Hermione had been the mastermind, she had set up their plans and positions and strategies. Other than Dumbledore, she had been one of the main contributors to the war… to Lucius' death. Harry somehow knew before the war he would end up resenting and hating her, but he had never imagined actually harming her physically.
Harry lay with his head on Hermione's shoulder as they sat on the deep red sofa in the Gryffindor common room. She let her fingers run through his hair mindlessly, maybe trying to comfort him, but Harry remained tense and uneasy.
"Harry, you've been uptight all day. What's wrong?" She sounded genuinely concerned and for a brief – very brief – moment, Harry felt somewhat guilty for what he was about to do. His thoughts shifted towards that last kiss and embrace he shared with his deceased lover, and soon all thoughts of guilt or doubt left.
"I loved him…" Harry whispered against her hair, almost feeling the confusion radiating off of her.
"Who?"
"Honestly Hermione, you never figured it out?" Hermione looked down at him, and Harry watched as realization flooded in her eyes.
"You… holding him… I saw you crying…" Her voice was quiet and she was shocked beyond belief. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry…" Harry smiled up at her grimly, and reached into the pocket of his robes. He withdrew a sharp, elegant dagger with jewels of green and silver embedded in a precise pattern. Engraved in between the stones were initials; 'L.M.' They were ornate and beautiful letters, and which could only stand for 'Lucius Malfoy'.
"I loved you, too, you know…" Harry whispered as he sat up, twirling the dagger with his slender fingers.
It was amazing no one heard her screams.