Once a Freak, Always a Freak

Summary: Hermione Granger is forced to choose between her best friend and the boy she is developing a crush on. In one world, she stuck with what she knew was right. In another, she stuck with the easy choice. And it made all the difference.

Harry blinked.

Hermione walked away, somewhat stiffly.

And for a moment, the world was still, as Harry could do nothing but watch her back as she disappeared, walking the corridors to the Gryffindor common room. And then, in an otherwise empty corridor, Harry Potter crumbled.

"I... I promised I would never cry again... didn't I?" he asked himself, as he wiped his own tears, hugging his knees with his back against a wall.

This was his fault. It couldn't be otherwise.

He had trusted them. He should have known better. He had trusted Ron to always stick by him. He had trusted Hermione to always stick by him. He had trusted them both with his life.

He wondered, for a minute, whether they had ever been his friends. Ron knew he was famous. Probably felt indebted to him for stopping Voldemort, and then, for saving his little sister. That must be why Ron humored him for so long.

Hermione probably felt indebted to him for saving her life from the troll. And the dementor bullshit, since she would've been kissed were it not for his Patronus. That must be why Hermione humored him for so long.

Was he truly that poor a friend that they eventually grew sick and tired of him? Had the Dursleys been right all along? Was he merely tolerated by the wizarding world? He knew that it wasn't truly him who had stopped Voldemort. More likely than not, it was something his mother or father had done. He was an useless freak that nobody liked.

Remus hadn't ever contacted him, had he? Had never sought him out. Remus must have felt obligated to tolerate and help him because he was the son of his best friend. That must be why Remus humored him for so long.

Sirius had chosen to chase the traitor instead of staying to take care of Harry. That meant that Sirius didn't really care about him, either. Sirius must feel indebted, because Harry saved his life, and obligated to Harry because he was the son of Sirius' Best Friend. That must be why Sirius humored him for so long.

He was poor family, he understood that. Harry? Was he worthy of the name? Freak. Yes. Freak was his name, always had been. It was what he was. Because it was all he was ever going to be. And he understood now. There was no need to pretend any longer. Even Dumbledore had known. Dumbledore had known he was Freak from the start. That was why he had sent him to the Dursleys. So Freak could understand.

That was why he waited until the last second to help Freak against whatever threat Freak was facing. That must be why he only sent the bare minimal of assistance. Why hadn't he come himself to deal with the basilisk? Why hadn't he been able to see Quirrel coming a mile away? Why was he always absent when something important was going on? Freak understood now. It had always been because Freak had never deserved such aid, but Dumbledore was too nice not to give him at least something.

Freak was born to die, after all. He was defective from the moment of his birth. That is why his parents had prepared to die. They had felt the shame that came with bringing Freak to life. His aunt Marge always said that. His uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia always said that Freak's parents were freaks like Freak, but Freak knew they were not. Not the same way. Freak was a freak even amongst freaks, and they couldn't understand because they didn't live in Freak's freaky world of freaks.

And even Freak himself had been fooled into thinking he wasn't a Freak. But today, he had seen, and finally understood. Only when he was finally left alone, wholly alone, did he finally understand.

It didn't make the pain in his chest hurt any less, though.

Freak faced the Hungarian Horntail. It was for the best. He had gotten the most dangerous and violent dragon. Everyone saw that Freak was a freak, even the little dragon figurines they'd used in the selection process, and he understood. That was why Freak walked out and when the stream of dragon fire came and enveloped him, Freak did not flinch. Freak did not look away. Freak faced his death with the sure certainty that this was all that he was good for.

Hermione Granger wasn't so much plagued by guilt as she was absolutely certain Harry's death was her fault.

She knew it without a shadow of doubt that the Boy Who Lived had met his demise by dragon because of her and her boundless stupidty. She had been developing a crush on Ron during third year, an irrational and stupid thing that just haunted her and would not go away. And she didn't know why. She didn't like Ron as a person. He was loud, obnoxious, had no table manners, lazy and a slob on top of that. But her heart was not as rational as her brain, and she hated it for that, because following her heart had led to the worst decision in her entire life.

And what for? For an imbecile that had broken off his friendship with Harry over something as stupid and trivial as he had? Hermione had cried for weeks after realizing the massive mistake she had made when she had walked away from Harry, but she had never been able to work up the courage to come crawling back to him. What would she say? what COULD she have said? "Sorry I was the worst friend and abandoned you when you were alone, let's be friends again?"

She had not been able to work up the courage to talk to him again, and this was the result. Harry Potter was dead because she had abandoned him in his time of need. He was dead because she had followed her heart instead of her brain.

Neither her crush on, nor her friendship with, Ron had survived one week after they had broken off their friendship with Harry. She understood, then, that Harry had always been a buffer, a middle ground, that stood between her and Ron, who were opposites in nearly every way. Harry had always been the one to make them reach a compromise, always been the one who stopped their verbal spats before they went too far. He had always been there for both of them. Even when either of them betrayed him.

Even when she had gone behind his back to tell McGonagall about the broom. Even when Ron had been badmouthing him about the gift of Parseltongue. He had always accepted them back and never held their betrayal over their heads.

He wasn't perfect, of course. He could be stubborn, he could be annoyingly lazy himself. But he hadn't deserved what he had gotten. He hadn't deserved to be shit on by the entire populace of the school for something that wasn't his fault. Oh, she had known Harry had not put his name in. She knew he hated his fame and would like nothing more than to be rid of it. Harry had never wanted to be the Boy Who Lived, much less the Triwizard Tournament champion he had been made. He was also pretty well off, so he hadn't needed the gold either.

But Ron had been jealous. He had been jealous about the 'glory'. About the gold. About everything. Ron was just jealous of Harry's life. It was ironic that Harry was jealous of Ron's.

But now Harry could never have the quiet family life he'd desired for. He could never have children to spoil, he could never have friends to call his children's honorary uncle and aunt.

And it was all Hermione's fault.

Nobody cared. Nobody cared about Hermione's guilt and shame. And nobody cared when Hermione Granger killed herself two months after the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, knowing that nothing she ever did would atone for the disservice she'd done to herself, to the world, and most importantly, to her best friend and brother, Harry Potter.

The world moved on. Voldemort found another method for his resurrection. Without Harry to stop him, Voldemort won the civil war and drove off the muggleborns through massacre after massacre. Eventually, he moved onto the muggles. The muggleborns that escaped his purges informed the government. Voldemort attempted an all out attack on the muggle side of Britain, but as they were prepared for him, every Witch and Wizard under his command except those who defected was killed in action. The purge would not stop there, as preemptive strikes all over the world finally wiped out the majority of the magical population that existed.

From then on, the magical population was very tightly regulated by the muggles, which caused them to lash out in protest of the chokehold on their culture and magic, which meant the muggles tightened their grip on magicals, which would cause a number of rebellions across the ages until the muggles finally tired of them and wiped them out for good.

And nothing of value was lost.

For want of a friend, Harry Potter was lost. For want of Harry Potter, a war was lost. For want of a war, reason was lost. For want of reason, another war came. For want of peace, Magic was lost.

For want of a friend, magic was lost.