Those eyes...p
Gods, those eyes. They had always been so full of life, so full of love that I would just melt whenever they were turned on me. If Christians didn't think that witches and wizards were satanic, I would have sworn a million times that God meant Harry Potter to live, just because of his eyes.p
But they did.p
And now you couldn't even see them, for they were closed, even though the look of fright still remained on his ice-cold features. He had sacrificed himself for me, for some bookworm of a mudblood who hadn't been Gryffindor enough to stay with him. Someone who ought to have been in Slytherin, because I couldn't even remember all of what he'd done for me, until it was too late. Until I started running...pbrbr
iThe dementors were closing in about us. I could feel them, their breath cold down the back of my neck, ratting in their throats. And I could only think of the worst things that had ever happened to me.p
Storming out on Harry in the great hall just because of some stupid remark that Ron had made about how you never got over first loves, and I would always be second best to Cho. But worse than that, the look of despair in his eyes as I stood up from the table, how you could tell he was trying not to cry. And I had done that to him.p
I could hear his yells as the dark capes swirled around him, the dementors focusing on me. "Hermione, run!" And a dazzling stag errupting from his wand, circling around me, driving the dementors away from me. Their attention turned towards him, and I could see him holding up the wand, trying another Patronus. But the dementors, they were too close to him, and he couldn't produce more than a silvery mist that hung about him for a few moments before disappearing.p
"Hermione, RUN!"p
So I took off across the muddy grounds as fast as I could, towards Hogwarts. But Dumbledore was already there, blasting Patronus after Patronus out of his wand, the dementors circling away slowly. "Professor, see to Miss Granger," he breathed, and I could feel cool, comforting hands, unable to make out the professor's face.p
"Harry," I cried, sobbing into my hands. "Harry!"p
More voices. "He's gone, Professor." That was Dumbledore. "The kiss wasn't administered, from what I can tell, but he's dead... Tried to save Miss Granger, I'm sure."/ipbrbr
So now he's lying there before me, his hands folded across his chest. Harry wouldn't want to look this way at his own funeral, I knew. So somber, so very unlike him. I'd never seen him look like this before. I'd seen him cry, seen him angry at himself, but never so afraid. No, Harry was never afraid, never denied anything to himself.pbrbr
i"Harry!" The figure seated at the edge of the lake didn't even turn his head, but I knew that it was him. How could I have been so stupid, yelling at him like that? And with the whole of Hogwarts watching, right there in the Great Hall.p
He turned and looked at me through the heavy rain, rain running down his cheeks.... No, that wasn't rain, those were tears. "What?" His voice was so listless, so crushed, that it made me want to cry with him.p
I ran to him, throwing my arms about his neck. "Harry, I'm so sorry," I whispered into the sodden black of his robes. "I shouldn't have let Ron get to me, I'm so sorry..."p
His fingers touched my chin, lifting my face up to his, my gaze to his. I let myself melt in those emerald eyes, overflowing with tears and love. "Want to dance?" he asked me quietly, his arms wrapping around me.p
I looked at him like he was insane. "What?"p
"I asked if you wanted to dance," he repeated, looking at me hopefully.p
"You've got to be insane. It's cold, it's windy, and it's pouring down rain. There's no music, and..." I looked up at him. "Yeah, I'd love to."p
It felt so comforting to have his arms wrapped around my waist, and I leaned my head up against his chest. We'd been 'together' for a few months now, and I'd always known that I'd loved him, but never if he loved me... But now I felt that he did.p
"Love you," he whispered softly into my hair, kissing the top of my head.p
I smiled, wrapping my arms tighter around his neck, lifting my face to his, and kissing him gently. "Love you, too," I murmured back, and was greeted by his warm smile./ipbrbr
Rain had begun to fall on his features, and I knew that I had stared at them long enough, inside the coffin. Harry Potter, inside of a coffin, at the age of seventeen... It was our seventh year. Had it only been our sixth whenever we'd danced?p
I stepped back, letting the rain mingle with the salty tears on my face. A small grin spread on my face, and I thought about what Harry would have been doing if he were here now. Not crying, not wanting me to cry. He'd want to dance...p
While the coffin closed and everyone stepped back inside, I stood in the rain, lifting my face skyward. It felt so good... "Love you," I whispered softly into the air.p
Maybe it was just my imagination, but somewhere in the pattering of the rain, I thought I heard his voice, so reassuring. "Love you, too."
Gods, those eyes. They had always been so full of life, so full of love that I would just melt whenever they were turned on me. If Christians didn't think that witches and wizards were satanic, I would have sworn a million times that God meant Harry Potter to live, just because of his eyes.p
But they did.p
And now you couldn't even see them, for they were closed, even though the look of fright still remained on his ice-cold features. He had sacrificed himself for me, for some bookworm of a mudblood who hadn't been Gryffindor enough to stay with him. Someone who ought to have been in Slytherin, because I couldn't even remember all of what he'd done for me, until it was too late. Until I started running...pbrbr
iThe dementors were closing in about us. I could feel them, their breath cold down the back of my neck, ratting in their throats. And I could only think of the worst things that had ever happened to me.p
Storming out on Harry in the great hall just because of some stupid remark that Ron had made about how you never got over first loves, and I would always be second best to Cho. But worse than that, the look of despair in his eyes as I stood up from the table, how you could tell he was trying not to cry. And I had done that to him.p
I could hear his yells as the dark capes swirled around him, the dementors focusing on me. "Hermione, run!" And a dazzling stag errupting from his wand, circling around me, driving the dementors away from me. Their attention turned towards him, and I could see him holding up the wand, trying another Patronus. But the dementors, they were too close to him, and he couldn't produce more than a silvery mist that hung about him for a few moments before disappearing.p
"Hermione, RUN!"p
So I took off across the muddy grounds as fast as I could, towards Hogwarts. But Dumbledore was already there, blasting Patronus after Patronus out of his wand, the dementors circling away slowly. "Professor, see to Miss Granger," he breathed, and I could feel cool, comforting hands, unable to make out the professor's face.p
"Harry," I cried, sobbing into my hands. "Harry!"p
More voices. "He's gone, Professor." That was Dumbledore. "The kiss wasn't administered, from what I can tell, but he's dead... Tried to save Miss Granger, I'm sure."/ipbrbr
So now he's lying there before me, his hands folded across his chest. Harry wouldn't want to look this way at his own funeral, I knew. So somber, so very unlike him. I'd never seen him look like this before. I'd seen him cry, seen him angry at himself, but never so afraid. No, Harry was never afraid, never denied anything to himself.pbrbr
i"Harry!" The figure seated at the edge of the lake didn't even turn his head, but I knew that it was him. How could I have been so stupid, yelling at him like that? And with the whole of Hogwarts watching, right there in the Great Hall.p
He turned and looked at me through the heavy rain, rain running down his cheeks.... No, that wasn't rain, those were tears. "What?" His voice was so listless, so crushed, that it made me want to cry with him.p
I ran to him, throwing my arms about his neck. "Harry, I'm so sorry," I whispered into the sodden black of his robes. "I shouldn't have let Ron get to me, I'm so sorry..."p
His fingers touched my chin, lifting my face up to his, my gaze to his. I let myself melt in those emerald eyes, overflowing with tears and love. "Want to dance?" he asked me quietly, his arms wrapping around me.p
I looked at him like he was insane. "What?"p
"I asked if you wanted to dance," he repeated, looking at me hopefully.p
"You've got to be insane. It's cold, it's windy, and it's pouring down rain. There's no music, and..." I looked up at him. "Yeah, I'd love to."p
It felt so comforting to have his arms wrapped around my waist, and I leaned my head up against his chest. We'd been 'together' for a few months now, and I'd always known that I'd loved him, but never if he loved me... But now I felt that he did.p
"Love you," he whispered softly into my hair, kissing the top of my head.p
I smiled, wrapping my arms tighter around his neck, lifting my face to his, and kissing him gently. "Love you, too," I murmured back, and was greeted by his warm smile./ipbrbr
Rain had begun to fall on his features, and I knew that I had stared at them long enough, inside the coffin. Harry Potter, inside of a coffin, at the age of seventeen... It was our seventh year. Had it only been our sixth whenever we'd danced?p
I stepped back, letting the rain mingle with the salty tears on my face. A small grin spread on my face, and I thought about what Harry would have been doing if he were here now. Not crying, not wanting me to cry. He'd want to dance...p
While the coffin closed and everyone stepped back inside, I stood in the rain, lifting my face skyward. It felt so good... "Love you," I whispered softly into the air.p
Maybe it was just my imagination, but somewhere in the pattering of the rain, I thought I heard his voice, so reassuring. "Love you, too."
