Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. Have you noticed that yet? How in every single thing I write, I put a disclaimer. Now, if I were JKR, would I be putting a disclaimer on these fics? No, because I would be writing all over them that I was JKR. Actually, I wouldn't even HAVE these fics, because I would be too busy writing OotP! And the song in the end isn't mine either. It's Little Did She Know by Kristy Jackson. And I stole a couple of quotes. They aren't mine either.
A/N: Please R&R. Do you like my fic? Is this a good style of writing? Is this the absolute worst thing you have ever read? Please tell me! This fic is in Hermione's POV.
Kissing My Hero
When did I fall in love with Harry Potter? I cannot tell you. It is almost as if I loved him before I met him. I wished for him, with all my heart. I wished for someone to love me, to care for me, to want to spend the rest of their life with me.
Then I read about him in all of the Dark Arts books. I read about him, and wished to meet him. Every book told his birthday, his age, every slightest thing I could wish to know about him. I knew he was my age. I knew he would be going to Hogwarts with me. I couldn't wait.
Then, it was September first. I was watching all over for him. I had seen numerous pictures about him, so my eyes only looked for him, they only saw him. I didn't see my Harry, so you could say I was blind.
I barely listened to my parents' goodbyes and farewells. I can honestly say I didn't care. Sure, they were my best friends (I didn't have any others, but that's a different story), and the only people who actually talked to me without a repulsed look on their face. But I needed to see Harry. I had never met him, yet I loved him.
Isn't there something holy, or sacred, or important about that kind of true love? The kind where you love a person before you met them, where you know where they are, what they are feeling, even if you can't see them? If there isn't, there shouldn't be. Then I wouldn't feel so guilty right now.
I got on the Hogwarts Express on September first, my palms sweaty. I found an empty compartment, sitting down and starting to read, trying to work up the courage to go and find Harry.
Instead another boy came in. He introduced himself as Neville Longbottom and asked if he could sit down.
When he announced that someone had said that Harry Potter was on the train, my heart pounded erratically. Harry Potter, the name was perfect.
But I stayed still, not wanting to let Neville know I was eager to see Harry, to meet him, to fall even deeper in love with him.
Presently Neville cried out that his toad was missing. This was my chance! I would find Harry, under the pretense that I was looking for Neville's toad.
I started searching, looking in the window of every compartment, looking for Harry…er, Neville's toad.
And I found him. He was sitting with a redhead, who would become in the future my other best friend.
Then I left, feeling numb. They hated me. Everyone hated me. My parents were my best friends, for God's sake! I didn't have anyone, no one at all to talk to, to laugh with, to cry with. My life was hell.
Until Halloween. Then Harry…oh, all right, and Ron, saved me from the mountain troll. I got them out of trouble, trying to show my thanks. But it wasn't enough. They had saved my life; I could do nothing to repay them.
We became friends, Harry, Ron and I. You rarely saw one without the other two. People thought we were one person, in the form of three. We were known as the Dream Team, the Terrible Trio, the Three Musketeers, countless others. We got in and out of trouble with Snape together. We rescued precious stones, saved Harry's godfather, figured out the secret from an unknown chamber. We fought, worked, cried, laughed together. I was finally living life as I wanted to.
But I was still in love with Harry, and no one knew, except my diary. I loved him so much, that I cried myself to sleep, silently, each night when he had a crush on Cho Chang. I hated her so much! And what was awful was that I had no reason to hate her. I felt terrible.
But after Cedric's death (it took full year to convince Harry that Cedric's death hadn't been his fault), Cho changed. Harry no longer liked her (well, that's a lie, he liked everyone. He didn't like her in the same way). She was different. He probably also felt extremely guilty.
Ron had no experience with comforting people. He had no idea how to handle being with Harry, when he was so depressed in fifth year. But I knew how to act. We just needed to be there with him. He might have been torn up inside, but we were his remedy. Friends, when they are true, will cure you of anything.
So finally, after many coaxed words, it dawned on Harry that he could have done nothing to stop the death of Cedric. And that year he asked me to the Christmas Ball.
It was nothing like the Yule Ball. It was just a small, only Hogwarts, dance. But he asked me.
I was floating on air for days. By that time Ron had figured out how in love I was with him, and he knew Harry loved me. But, for his own amusement (and his curious love for soap operas), he never told.
It was the night of the ball, and I was in Utopia. My life was heaven. Harry danced with me; he talked to me, talked like he hadn't talked in months. And at the end, right before we went to bed, he kissed me. I fell in love with him all over again that night.
We became a couple. We were still best friends with Ron, but now we became of quartet, as Ron was dating Lavender. We were the Quirky Quartet for our last three years of Hogwarts.
Then, at graduation, we all cried, even knowing we would see each other for the rest of our lives. We rented a house near the Burrow, Lavender, Harry, Ron and me, and we lived in that, best friends forever.
Then, Harry proposed. That night, Ron and Lavender had gone out (Ron proposed to Lav too. It was planned). I was never happier. It was the best moment of my life.
I stood at the altar, Harry's hands in mine, each of us saying our vows. Our dreams had come true, we were married.
But, a couple months later, my life was destroyed. Lord Voldemort, who had been silent for years, ever since the end of our fifth year, was attacking again. And he had an army of people…no, animals that we had never seen. The Light side was no match for him.
Harry knew he was the only hope. I persuaded, with the help of Ron and Lavender, that he shouldn't go, that Dumbledore was more than enough. But we all knew we were wrong. Dumbledore was old, weak, frail. Harry had to go.
I found the letter the night I got the news. Harry, my love, was dead. Under my pillow, was a letter Harry had written the night before he left to find Voldemort.
Hermione, my love,
Please don't worry about me. I have and will love you all my life. That love will keep us together. Nothing can separate me from you, as we are one person. I cannot survive without you; therefore, you have always been with me.
You are asleep now, your face pale in the moonlight. You are beautiful, and rest assured that my dying breath, whenever that may be, will contain the words, "Hermione, I love you."
I leave tomorrow. I told you, you do not need to wake up to see me off, but I know you will. You will wake up when I do, and stubbornly refuse to go back to sleep. You will wish me luck, tell me you love me and kiss me. Then I will leave, riding the train to Hogwarts, leaning out the window and blowing kisses to you all the way.
Sleep well, Hermione, I will see you in the morning.
And remember, as life is eternal, love is immortal. Death is only a horizon, and the horizon only the limit of our sight. And, last of all, Death cannot sever the link of True Love between us. It can only delay it.
All my love,
Harry
When I heard he was dead, part of me died too. It never came back. What scared me was that the day he left, everything was the same as he had written in his letter. It was as if he knew, somehow, that he would die.
Harry used to tell me that Fate controlled when we entered and left this world. He believed thoroughly that he would die when Fate told him. So I suppose that Fate told him he would die at the hands of Lord Voldemort.
That morning, just as Harry had said, he woke up, I woke up. He urged me to go back to bed, it was early. I stubbornly refused. I led him to the train station, where he was leaving for Hogwarts. I wished him luck, told him I would always love him, and kissed him. That was our last kiss. His last words to me were "I love you too, Hermione. I always will."
Harry, wait for me, up there in heaven, stand right by those pearly gates. I will never meet another like you, but I will live my life to the fullest, because you would have wanted it. I will never again marry, for only you I can love. I will never love this way again. Harry I miss you. I cherish our last words, our last laugh together, our last embrace, our last tears, our last moments, our last kiss.
Little did she know she kissed a hero.
Though he'd always been one in her eyes.
When faced with certain death,
He said a prayer and took a breath,
And led an army of true angels in the sky.
Little did she know she kissed a hero.
Though he'd always been an angel in her eyes.
Putting others first it's true,
That's what heroes always do,
Now he doesn't need a pair of wings to fly.
