Chapter 2

Ron never came back to them. She had been upset for a long time, but she knew that there were things to be done. She was all he had left.

On the rare night that they were able to relax, they had shared secrets of their childhoods they had never told one another before. Some were solemn, but some made them laugh for what felt like hours. A rare commodity these days.

"You turned your teacher's wig blue!" laughed Hermione, wiping away the tears forming in her eyes.

"C'mon, I didn't know I was a wizard at the time. I didn't even know it was me doing it until I got my letter." Harry joined in the laughter. "Like you haven't done anything similar."

"Well, once I was being picked on by this really mean girl in my class. She had always hated me for some reason. But one day I had gotten so angry with her that all of a sudden it began raining spiders." admitted Hermione. "Of course, it was weird but I never thought of it being magic."

"Wow," said Harry, thunderstruck. "And I thought I was bad."

She swatted his arm. "Oh shush."

His thoughts turned somber. "So, you were picked on, too?" He could not help the urge to find those who had hurt her and beat the living daylights out of them.

"Is it that surprising?" asked Hermione. She shrugged. "I was, still am, I suppose, an annoying, know-it-all bookworm."
"No, you aren't." said Harry sternly. "You're brilliant." Hermione smiled at him weakly and for some reason, for the first time ever, Harry felt a shock to his heart. "Hermione, I'm sorry you were teased and picked on when you were little. You don't deserve it."

"Nor did you." Hermione said sympathetically.

It was Harry's turn to shrug. "I didn't let it bother me."

"But it did bother you, didn't it?" asked Hermione, scooting over on the couch toward him. "You tried to put on a brave face, but inside you were miserable. You longed for something to take you away from it all. You wanted nothing more in your life than to have love." At the last word, Harry's breath hitched. "I wish I had been there to help you. I hate the stories you tell about the Dursley's. No child should have to live like that." She took his hand in hers and Harry felt electricity flowing from her touch. What was happening to him? He'd never felt like this before. Was this… "Harry, I need to you know something." Her voice was becoming more frantic. "If I die tomorrow, I don't want you to go in life not knowing." Harry's heart began to hammer against his chest. He could not bare to hear it. The word that people had tried to say to him always ended up twisting itself into a bullseye and pasted itself on their backs.

He had to say something. "Please, Hermione, I can't." He pulled his hand out of her grasp. "I think I know what you are about to say, and I can't hear it."

"But, Harry." she said, surprised as he got to his feet suddenly. She needed to tell him. She had a bad feeling that if she did not tell him now, she would never get another chance. "Please…"

Harry had his back to her and the last word felt like the sword of Gryffindor had plunged into his heart. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes but what he had no choice to say had to come out defiantly, without hesitation, even though he was sure it was going to kill him. He knew what his feelings to her had been all night. But he could not give in. She was all he had. So, he did the only thing he could think to do. The only thing that would keep her from saying it. He had to break her heart. He turned towards her again, his shoulders squared as he said the words that were completely untrue. "Hermione, I don't love you." he said, more forcefully than he had meant it to be.

Hermione stood up. Tears falling down her face. "Oh. I see." She quickly brushed the tears from her eyes. "I just thought…"

"Your my best friend…" Harry started but Hermione put up a hand to stop him.

"Let's just destroy the final Horcrux." Hermione said, returning to her usual voice that told him it was time to work. But he could tell that this time, there was a certain hopelessness in her voice.

They had retrieved the locket the night before but had waited to destroy it until they found somewhere safe to camp.

Harry spoke with sadness dripping from his voice. "I'll do it. You stay warm." He needed something to do. Anything. He grabbed the sword of Gryffindor and made his way to the tent flap.

"Are you sure?" asked Hermione. "I don't think you should do this alone."

"I'm sure." And he walked out into the clearing that they had cast enchantments on to seal them from others.

Harry did not know what to do. All he knew is that he needed to keep Hermione safe. Her coming with him had been a terrible mistake but what was he supposed to do now? He placed the locket on the ground and took the sword firmly in his hand. With the other, he held his wand. He took a deep breath before casting the charm on the locket for it to open.

At once, dark smoke billowed from the inside of the locket and an eerie voice shattered the silence around him.

"You are nothing, Potter! No one loves you. The girl could never truly show you love." The voice began to laugh in a high pitched tone. "But I know what the deepest desires of your heart." Another curtain of smoke came out of the locket but this time, it took shape. Twisting and turning, the smoke made itself into the shape of Hermione.

Harry longed for her, wanted her to tell him everything was going to be ok, but instead, what she said, broke his heart. "You really thought I loved you? No one loves you. They only pretend to love you because you are the famous Harry Potter."

Harry dropped the sword. This was not real, he told himself. This is just a trap. But, then, why did his heart feel like this? He clutched his head. Wrestling his feelings for Hermione. It was only when the voice inside the locket said, "You will die alone," that Harry acted. He grabbed the sword from the ground and plunged it into the center of the locket. It gave a painful shriek and then after convulsing for several seconds, fell silent and still.

Shaking, Harry gathered the pieces of the locket and the sword and put them into the bottomless sack that Hermione normally carried with her. He sat in the snow for what seemed like hours, trying to collect his thoughts. He knew, Harry thought. He knew how I felt about Hermione. How could he have let this happen. How was he supposed to protect her now?

Fear racing in his heart, he thought of a plan. It was the only way.