I Miss You

Chapter 13

Haven't been keeping a timeline; hope this is somewhat accurate. Also, check out chapter 12. I fixed it… it's just a bit of fluffy stuff but it's good.

Harry and Hermione were playing wizarding chess in the common room when Ron burst in through the portrait hole. "I totally forgot. There's a Hogsmeade weekend today and I told Luna that I would take her and we could eat lunch and WHY AREN'T YOU EVEN REACTING?"

Harry blinked. "I thought you knew. Anyways, I'm not going. How about you, Hermione?"

"Nope. It's too cold outside. Ever since that ski trip I've tried to stay out of the snow as much as humanly possible. I hate skiing… and snow," she said, shuddering.

"All right, then, cool," Ron said in a hurry. "Now help me get ready. Please."

Harry and Hermione abandoned their chess game temporarily and went to help Ron gather his things. He was ready in a record 5 minutes time.

"I'm off," Ron called back, but Hermione and Harry were already immersed in their chess game again. "Well, fine then," Ron muttered to himself, and walked out of the common room.

«.:.:.:.»

Harry and Hermione were battling it out on the chess board. It seemed that, although it may sound strange, chess was not Hermione's game. Harry was winning.

"Oh, I am so beating your butt!" Harry cried triumphantly as his bishop took control of her queen.

"Are not," she muttered at him. "Well, you are, but not THAT badly."

"You think what you want to think," Harry said joyfully. "Meanwhile, I am going to do a victory dance through the center of the common room."

He jumped up and started dancing very strangely- very strangely, considering that he couldn't dance to save his life.

Hermione was laughing hysterically. "Harry, stop, you're embarrassing yourself!" she said through her laughs.

"Nobody's… in… the… room!" Harry said, punctuating each word with a butt-wiggle.

Hermione realized with a start that they were, in fact, alone. 'Crap,' she thought to herself. 'And I was doing so well before he pointed that out.'

Harry was finally settling down. "All right," he said, thumping back down in his chair. "Saaay," he said, looking at the board. "Things have been a bit… rearranged."

Hermione gave him her best innocent look. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Harry," she said, glancing over the board. "Oh, look, I've got the advantage!"

«.:.:.:.»

They played well into the night, and it was 10 o'clock before either of them even glanced up at the clock.

"Wow," Harry said, looking up. "That's weird. It's 10 and nobody's even come in from Hogsmeade. We don't have to be in our common room for another half-hour. Let's go see if they're in the Great Hall or something."

They both got up and walked to the Great Hall, and nobody was there but Professor Dumbledore. "Harry… Hermione," he said, nodding to each of them in turn.

"Hello, Professor, where are all the people that went to Hogsmeade?"

"I'm afraid something has happened," Dumbledore responded. "Apparently, around 6 o'clock today there was a bomb that went off in The Three Broomsticks. There were a few lucky people who survived, including those who weren't in there, obviously, but-"

Hermione cut him off. "Where are the survivors? Who are the survivors? WHAT ABOUT RON?!?"

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "Never fear, Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley survived, along with Ms. Lovegood. They're both in the infirmary right now getting patched up. They each only had a few minor scratches. They were about a block away in a back alley near The Three Broomsticks… Merlin knows what they were doing," he finished, his eyes twinkling.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said hastily, before he was grabbed on the arm by Hermione, who was getting ready to sprint towards the infirmary.

«.:.:.:.»

"Honestly, Hermione, Madame Pomfrey, I'm FINE," Ron said for the sixth time. "Hermione, stop fussing. Madame Pomfrey, I don't need to stay the night."

"Nonsense!" she cried, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. "You're staying the night, just like everybody else."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Look, could I have a drink of water?"

Pomfrey nodded. She went into the back for a moment and returned with a goblet. "Come on, then, drink your silly water," she said, after handing him the goblet.

Ron nodded, tipped his head back, and chugged the contents of the goblet before making a face. "Ugh. This isn't water. It's bitter!"

Pomfrey nodded. "Yes, I'm aware of that. It's a dreamless sleep potion. And five… four… three… two…" she said, counting seconds off on her watch.

At "one," Ron's head hit the pillow and he fell asleep.

"Come on, Hermione, let's get back to the common room," Harry said, tugging on her arm. Hermione wrenched her arm out of his grasp.

"I'm just staying a minute longer, all right, Harry? I've got a question for Madame Pomfrey."

"Fine," Harry said. "I'll be in the common room."

«.:.:.:.»

Hermione walked into the portrait hole 20 minutes later to find Harry sitting in an armchair, leaning forward to stare into the fire.

"Harry? Are you okay?"

"Neville Longbottom," he responded.

"What?"

"Neville Longbottom, Pavarti and Padma Patil, Seamus Finnigan, Cho Chang," he said, ticking names off on his fingers.

"Oh, Jesus," she said, walking over to him and placing an arm on his shoulder.

"Michael Corner, Euan Abercrombie- he was a second year- Professor Trelawny, Hannah Abbot," he said, his voice raised.

"Harry, Harry, it's okay-"

His voice grew louder. "Stewart Ackerly, Madame Rosmerta- she let me use her phone to call you when you had to go home, you know-Eleanor Branstone, COLIN AND DENNIS CREEVY, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!" He placed his forehead in his hands and sobbed. "Every… single… one of them dead. EVERY ONE. And whose fault is it? The frickin' Boy-Who-Lived! That bomb was supposed to kill ME, and instead it killed a whole bunch of innocent people and it didn't even HIT ITS GODDAMN TARGET. Well, WHOOPDY-DOO, NOW I'VE GONE AND KILLED LOTS OF INNOCENT PEOPLE! BUT I DON'T WANT TO DO IT ANYMORE!" he raged. Feeling a need to do something, hurt something, he grabbed a vase off of the mantle of the fireplace and flung it. It shattered. He grabbed a picture and threw it. It shattered. He kept throwing things and throwing things until eventually, he ran out of strength.

"I'm so tired of it. I'm tired of being the Boy-Who-Lived," he said, flopping down on the couch. "I'm tired of people dying because of me. I don't want to do it anymore. I wouldn't do it anymore, were it not my destiny."

"Oh, blast it, Harry, you're sounding like Darth Vadar," Hermione sighed, sitting next to him. "Look. What you do and don't do with your life is totally, entirely, and completely up to you. These people did not die because of you, whatever you think. They died because of V-Voldemort. It's not your fault, nor will it ever be your fault. Now, look. You are obviously incredibly tired. Go up to bed, all right? I've got a little bit of homework to finish, but I'll be going to bed soon too."

Harry gave a half-hearted smile. "All right, then. Good night, Hermione," he said, turning and kissing her on the cheek. He walked up the stairs and flopped into bed without changing, too exhausted to care.

Hermione sat downstairs, waiting until she heard the boy's dorm room door close. Then she bowed her head and allowed the tears to fall for every person that was gone.

«.:.:.:.»

Author's Note: I would have killed Ron off here had he not been vital to upcoming plot. Anyways, just to let you know, this story is likely to end between chapters 15 and 20. But there will be a sequel- and I can pretty much guarantee you that the ending will not be what you expect.

P.S. Changed chapter 12. Gooo read it.

P.P.S. I FEED OFF OF REVIEWS. Hint. Hint.