A while back I read 'Survivor ' by atruwriter and was left sitting in a pool of my own tears and deeply depressed. It's an amazingly beautiful but tragic story. coming up with this story was the only way I got out of the depression. It's based on the world created in that story but goes a different direction. If you haven't read it, I highly recommend it. In fact, you should probably read at least the first chapter before reading this story yoiu can find it on my favorite stroy list. If you do, I recommend sitting in a kiddy pool to avoid flooding your home (It's that sad). I'm a man and I was bawling like a baby!
I don't normally put disclaimers on my stories because I think that goes with out saying but I think it's appropriate in this case so her goes.
Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. This version of the Harry Potter universe belongs to atruwriter. I'm just playing in their creations.
As always, Reviews are welcome and appreciated.
Premonition
'Bellatrix Lestrange was approaching Hermione from behind, a maniacally gleeful expression on her gaunt face. Hermione was too distracted by Lucius and the curses and hexes he kept throwing at her to pay any heed to her back or outside surroundings. Ron shouted at her, trying to gain her attention so she'd turn, but the yell died out against the sudden explosion of green coming from the right. It swallowed up a huge part of the field, lighting up the sky and catching everyone's attention. For one stark moment, Ron was terrified that when the light died away, Harry would be the one dead on the ground. He was stuck between seeing if Hermione was okay and making sure Harry had won. As the light faded away, his eyes happened to be on Harry, who was standing up, alive, his wand trained on a black mass on the ground, limp and dead. Ron's chest leaped then and he gave a loud shout of victory. His arm pumped in the air, a swell of happiness exploding inside of him. It was over. Finally! It was really over!
He turned, sure he would see Hermione smiling and possibly even running to Harry, to hug him, to congratulate him, anything. But she wasn't moving toward Harry, she was arched up, her arms pointed out from her sides as Bellatrix shot a vicious Crucio to her back. Hermione shook and quivered in the air, suspended and cursed into pain. Ron raised his wand, intending to hurl Bellatrix away, but she dropped the Cruciatus curse and turned, grinning. She wasn't looking at Ron though, she was staring at where Voldemort used to be. Her expression changed to one of sorrow and she let out a piecing cry of defeat and agony before she glared darkly at Harry and then turned swiftly back to Hermione, who was now left kneeling on the ground, panting with exhaustion and pain. Simultaneously, with equally disturbing grins, Lucius and Bellatrix shot off green curses at the girl between them.
Harry had begun running toward Hermione as soon as he saw her position, but he wasn't quick enough to stop Lucius or Bellatrix. The Killing curses met their target and sucked the life from Hermione immediately, leaving her drained and dead, slumping to the grassy ground beneath her. Harry came over to kneel beside her ignoring the fleeing death eaters.
Harry reached out with a shaking hand, moving the soft tendrils of Hermione's hair from off her cheek. His fingers softly stroked her face as his green eyes took in all of her, searching for some falsity in her death. He turned her so she was facing him, before drawing her up into his lap, cradling her limp body against his chest and burying his face against her neck. Ron could hear his shaking sobs as he cried against her, mumbling, "No, no, not her, please, no."
And Harry was shaking her, going back and forth between holding her close to him and shaking her in front of him. "I told you, I told you they'd be after you," he shouted at her, his voice anguished. "Oh God, come back, come back," he pleaded with her, hugging her tight against his chest, his chin on top of her head, his eyes closed, and Ron noticed his glasses were broken. But he had no one to fix them. Hermione always did that. Would he never get them fixed then? "I don't know what to do without you. I don't know. I don't know," he murmured, sounding rather insane with his grief. He pulled her up closer, dragging her until he had all of her in his arms, his hand buried in her thick curls, his face pressed against hers, cheek to cheek. "I love you. I love you. You're supposed to live! You were the only one... You were the only one I couldn't lose." He shook his head, crying against her, his arm tightening around her to be almost crushing.
"I can't do it without you, I can't do it," Harry told her, shaking his head and exhaling a big whoosh of shaky air. "You promised, you promised, you said... Hermione," he pleaded, pulling her close again, his face pressed down into her shoulder.'
"HERMIONE!"
Harry sat up in bed unsure if he had actually screamed her name or if it was just the last vestige of the nightmare he'd just escaped. He wasn't even sure if it was just a dream or if he was reliving the most horrible memory he could imagine. He didn't register that he was in bed nor was he sure where he was at that moment. The only light in the room was from moonlight that filtered in through a window. It didn't reach the wall he was looking at so he couldn't make out any details. He didn't see it anyway. The only thing he could see was the image of her dead body in his arms. It overwhelmed his mind and broke his heart. Grief such as he'd never known, and for Harry Potter that was saying something, welled up inside him and threatened to break whatever hold he still had on his sanity. There was only so much loss even the boy who lived could handle and this wasn't just any loss, this was Hermione. He couldn't take it, he wouldn't. If she was gone, he soon would be as well. He couldn't live without her. If she couldn't be here, he would go be with her wherever she was.
He hadn't noticed the bed move beside him until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Still dazed from the nightmare, he didn't respond. He heard a voice but didn't register what it said. Finally two hands softly touched both sides of his face and turned it to face the owner of the voice. Relief flooded into him when he saw her. 'Hermione' he thought as he looked into her eyes and saw worry and concern. Again she spoke but he didn't comprehend what she said. He was still too overwhelmed to speak as his eyes filled with tears. He reached up and lightly touched her face; his thumb caressed her cheek while his fingers tangled themselves in her thick brown curls to confirm she was really there.
"D-Dream … just a dream," he said more to himself than to her then lost what little control he had over his emotions and began weeping openly.
He saw a flash of understanding her eyes before tears blurred his vision and almost immediately felt her pull him into a tight embrace. Soon she started gently rocking him back and forth while whispering soft words of comfort in his ear. He held on to her for dear life as the emotional storm that was raging inside him ran its course, each word she spoke soothing him and making him feel safe. Until, at last, he was himself again.
It wasn't the first time she'd comforted him after a nightmare. She'd been there many times before. It started after he'd fought Voldemort in the graveyard and managed to escape with Cedric Diggory's body. He spent the first two nights in the hospital wing. He'd slept peacefully in Madam Pomfry's care with the help of a dreamless draught but the next night he was back in his dorm room without its protection and the nightmares came. He'd woke up screaming and was shocked when he felt a soft hand on his shoulder followed by a second one cupping his face. A face then came into view in the semidarkness and a figure sat on the bed facing him. It took him a moment to register that it was Hermione and that she was speaking softly to him. She quickly pulled him into an embrace and whispered comforting words until he'd calmed down.
It was the first time he'd ever been held after a nightmare. His aunt and uncle had never shown him compassion while he was growing up. Instead they'd come storming into the cupboard yelling at him to shut up then go back to bed leaving him alone in the darkness. He'd gotten used to having to get over bad dreams on his own but now he finally knew what it felt like to be cared for and held while recovering from a nightmare and realized how desperately he'd needed it all his life.
Once he was fully awake, he'd asked her how she'd come to be there and she'd told him that she'd been up late studying and decided to check on him before she went to bed. She'd found him having a nightmare and started to wake him up but he'd sat up before she had the chance. She then proceeded to take care of him. When he realized that none of the other boys in the room were awake, he'd asked if he'd only imagined himself screaming. She told him he'd screamed quite loudly but that she'd put a silencing charm around his bed so he wouldn't wake up his dorm mates. After a few minutes she got him to lie back down. She repositioned herself until she was sitting at the head of the bed with her back against the headboard.
She then softly caressing his head and face with her hand while speaking softly. He smiled up at her in gratitude and saw her smile back before closing his eyes again. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer nuzzling his face into her hip and thigh. She didn't resist or stiffen up but just kept speaking as he clung to her. Her words invoked happy, pleasant images in his mind that lulled him into a peaceful sleep. The last he thing remembered before sleep took him was the sound of her voice and the touch of her hand.
After that first night, she was there every time he had a nightmare except when he was back on Privet Dr. She seemed to always know when he'd need her and was waiting to comfort him and help him get back to sleep. Whether he was in his dorm room or the hospital wing at Hogwarts, sharing a room with Ron at the Burrow or in his own bed in Grimmauld Pl., she'd never let him deal with a nightmare alone again. She knew what he needed in those moments and made sure he got it. She held him as he woke up, let him cling to her as he cried while recovering from the dream and cuddle into her as he fell back asleep. It was in those moments that she became the most important person in his life.
"Harry?"
He was snapped out of his reverie when he heard his name. She was still holding him and rocking gently.
"Yeah," he answered.
She stopped rocking at his response.
"Are you ok?" she replied pulling back to look at him. Her expression was filled with concern and there were tears in her eyes.
"I'm fine," he responded. "I just had a bad dream. I'm sorry I woke you. You should go back to sleep."
He didn't really believe it was a dream. It had felt more like the visions he'd had in fifth year but he didn't want to alarm her until he had a better handle on it but she knew him too well to be fooled. She studied his face for a moment without speaking.
"It was more than just a dream Harry," she said finally. "You screamed out my name and looked like you'd seen a ghost when you first saw me. You were positively terrified. I've seen how you are after a nightmare but I've never seen you like this. What was it about?"
"I-," he started but was unable to continue as images from the dream went through his mind. "You need your rest. We can talk about it in the morning."
"I'm wide awake now," she responded reaching up to caress his face. "Tell me Harry, it'll help you feel better."
He hesitated and looked down for a moment then met her eyes again. They were the eyes that saw him more clearly than any others. They looked past the Boy-Who-Lived/Chosen One Image everyone else pictured when they looked at him and saw the little boy who wanted to be held when he had a nightmare or the emerging man who would soon willingly face his destiny while wishing he could just leave it all behind and live a normal life in anonymity. He felt a lump in his throat at the thought of not seeing those eyes again.
He cleared his throat in an attempt to get rid of the lump and began telling her about the dream. He told her every detail he could remember and felt his eyes water as he spoke. He pulled her tightly against him when he was finished to reassure himself that it hadn't been real. She seemed to hold onto him as well as she absorbed what he'd told her. Silence fell between them as they clung to each other neither one in any hurry to let go. The image of her lifeless body planted itself firmly in his mind and no matter what he did he couldn't get it out.
"I don't want you there," he murmured more to himself than her breaking the silence.
"You don't want me where?" she questioned pulling back far enough to meet his eyes.
"When I face Voldemort," he answered her. "I don't want you there. I want you somewhere I know you'll be safe."
She immediately pulled away from him and crossed her arms.
"I won't stay behind while the rest of you risk your lives!" she said angrily. "Especially not because of a stupid dream! We need every witch and wizard we can get Harry. I haven't been training day and night for weeks only to stand on the sidelines while you take on the biggest fight of your life. You need me Harry! Someone has to watch your back."
"I don't want to lose you Hermione!" He responded.
"I don't want to lose you either," she replied letting go of her anger. She reached up and took hold of his face with both hands as she continued. "The thought of you facing Voldemort by yourself scares me to death but it's what you have to do. He's got to be stopped and you're the only one who can do it. None of us know if we'll survive the final battle but we're all ready to fight and support you as you try to rid the world of that madman once and for all. I've been with you from the beginning Harry and I have no intention of being anywhere else at the end."
He wanted to argue further but knew it wouldn't do any good so he just nodded his head. She smiled gratefully and pulled him in for a hug. He held her never wanting to let her go wishing they could stay in this room forever and let someone else fight this battle. He was tired of being the one who has to risk everything. He'd lost enough. Let someone else take a turn.
"Harry?"
It was the second time she'd jolted him from his thoughts.
"Yeah," he answered.
"You need your rest," she replied. "You should try to go back to sleep. Do you feel up to it yet?"
He nodded his head and she laid down pulling him with her. He lay on his side and pulled her to him, his arm lying across her stomach his hand on her hip, his face nuzzled in her hair. Her hand that was closest to him rested on top of his arm while her upper torso turned toward him slightly so she could reach his face with her other hand. She began running her fingers through his hair and gently massaging his head. Soon she started whispering into his ear. She told him to imagine that he was on his firebolt high in the air, the wind blowing through his hair. There was no madman after him, no final battle just him and his broom flying anywhere he wanted to go. He smiled at the images her words caused to form in his mind. As he felt sleep overtaking him, he imagined that Hermione was on it with him and that they were flying as far away from here as they could get.
