"You'll fight. Well, then. You may as well fight here. I shall leave, he will come then. Go somewhere in the castle. He will find you," Professor Dumbledore said, looking shaken himself, and he left. Professor McGonagall left, also.
Where in the castle did he want to go? He wandered the halls of the castle slowly, as if looking for an answer. He heard a single pair of footsteps rushing toward him. Harry looked up.
"Hermione?? Why haven't you left with the rest of the kids?" He asked protectively.
"I couldn't, I cant let you do this by yourself. You can't possibly hope to fight him alone," she said, a deep look of concern on her face. She'd worn that expression many times for him. He wore it back for her.
"If you insist. Let's just go in here and wait," he said and opened a door to his left. They found themselves in the library. He remembered his dream, piles of old, worn books littered the floor. "No, we can't fight in here," he said hurriedly.
"Why not?" Hermione asked. How could he explain for not telling her about the dream??
"Yes, indeed. Why not?" A voice full of deep evil flooded the room. They turned around. The pain in Harry's scar worsened with every second. "Expelliarmus," Voldemort said. Their wands flew out of their hands.
"What now?" Harry asked. Voldemort watched with interest.
"What now, mudblood?" the Dark Lord asked. Hermione felt like spitting. Instead, she reached inside one of her pockets and pulled out a pocket knife.
"What good will that do?" Harry asked dryly.
"Well," she looked nervous about this. She cut a slash through the palm of her hand. She then grabbed Harry's hand and did the same.
"Ouch, what's the deal?" He asked.
"Foolish girl," Voldemort muttered.
"Well, your mothers love for you saved you at first. She was already in your blood. Then maybe," she clasped her bleeding hand to his, "My love for you can save you, now." She was hesitant on this last part.
"Oh, that's so sweet," Voldemort said sardonically.
"Maybe it'll work both ways," Harry said quietly. Voldemort coughed in disgust. Hermione's eyes glittered, filling with tears.
"This is getting boring. I thought there would at least be some good entertainment, watching you squirm. Avada Kedavra."
Hermione's hand went limp in Harry's. Reluctantly, he gently place her limp body on the floor of the library. The curse had caused most of the bookshelves to fall over.
"Escape, Harry. It's not worth the risk," Hermione said, her voice was weak.
"Don't die on me, Herm. Please don't die!" he said, his voice becoming unstable.
"It's too late, she's already dead, as you will be soon. You can't escape me this time!" The evil, power-hungry voice if Voldemort filled the room.
He looked up from Hermione's lifeless body. Piles of old, worn books littered the floor. There was blood all over.
"Your turn. Avada Kedavra."
There was nothing Harry could do but stand there. He squinted at the flash of green light. When he fully opened his eyes, he found himself . . .
Still in the library.
The pain in his scar was gone. He saw Voldemort fall, his spirit trying to escape his body.
'Why am I still here?? Why is she dead, and I'm not?? Did I not love her enough?' Harry wondered. He leaned over her. The one person he had truly loved. He blamed himself. "Oh, Hermione. Why?? Why aren't you alive?? And now Voldemort's spirit is going to find another body. Why??"
Hermione's eyes flickered open. She took a jar out of her pocket and said, "Put him in this," and she fell unconscious again. Harry did as she said. The jar appeared to be spirit-proof.
"Well, now you won't cause any more trouble in there," he said as he put the jar in his pocket. It was kind of a weird feeling, having the person who'd wanted him dead for so long in a little jar in his pocket. It was one of the better places he could be, though.
Harry turned around and looked at Hermione. Her face was still masked by her hair, she was lying very still, but she was still breathing. He walked past her and pocketed both of their wands before picking her up and carrying her to the hospital wing.
There was no one there, so he laid her down on one of the beds and brushed back her hair. He almost fainted when he saw what was there . . .
A lightning shaped scar in the middle of her forehead.
Why shouldn't she have one?? She had escaped the curse, too. He just hadn't expected it. Harry still stood, gaping at her scar for a while. He was still there when Madame Pomfrey came in. She looked like she was going to have a heart attack at the sight of her scar.
"At least she's still alive. Professor Dumbledore wants to see you. I imagine I should wash your hand up first," she said, washing his left hand. She made a weird expression when she saw the gash, but she didn't speak.
Harry rushed to Professor Dumbledore's office, where the headmaster himself was waiting out the door. He lead Harry into the room.
"Let me see him," Professor Dumbledore said. Harry handed him the spirit-proof jar. "He was a lot of trouble, wasn't he?? He won't be, now that he's stuck in a jar." Harry smiled and nodded. "Hermione is a smart girl. Very clever of her to think of that. I'm glad it worked for her, too. I don't know what we'd all do without her."
"Neville would be a mess," Harry said. Dumbledore chuckled.
"Let me see your left hand," he said. Harry held out his left hand. Professor Dumbledore looked at the gash in his hand. "You're going to keep this scar."
"Just what I need, another famous scar," Harry said sarcastically.
"You'll know why you want to keep it. Hermione will be awake soon. Go see her. Good work, Harry."
A/N: Sorry for all you anti-H/Hr people. You shouldn't have expected anything better from me. This chapter was kind of corny, huh?? I'm corny. It's midnight. Sorry it took me so long, I went camping. Anyway, review it please.