A/N: I'm debating doing a companion fic from Harry's point of view. I've started a bit of it but it doesn't seem to be going along very well. It's hard to recreate the feeling in this story for some reason. Please tell me what you think!
Until Her Heart Stops
Today I saw my hero fall apart,
The one who taught me to be strong,
On the outside I look fine,
But on the inside I am dying,
Do or Die – Papa Roach
She laid there in the ashes for so long, she almost forgot how to walk. Her legs felt leaden and heavy, as did her heart. Her face shone with tears that left burning trails against her cheeks. She was so lost in the dark tunnel of her mind and her thoughts were moving painfully slow. A weight on her chest was heavy and constricting her breath every time she inhaled. Her hand wrapped tighter around the piece of dead weight that was his hand, the last piece of her sanity.
Turning her head slowly, she looked at him. His eyes were blessedly closed and he was facing her. Small cuts and gashes splattered across his pale face and gave him an eerie look. Usually, when she would watch him sleeping, he looked so peaceful, untroubled by his usual nightmares that plagued his already troubled mind. This was different, so very different. His face was solemn, almost stony, as if determined to die with dignity.
She couldn't bring herself to look lower than his face for she knew what she would see. She closed her eyes against the memory, but it flooded her senses against her will.
The strong, stale smell of rust filled her nose, almost making her choke. Beyond her in caverns unexplored raged the sounds of ongoing battles, loud shouts and flashes of light. Occasionally screams would shatter the din, making her shiver under her warm wool cloak.
Where is he? she thought frantically, looking around. To her right was a tunnel filled with darkness and an unnatural silence compared to the roars of battle emitting from the other paths. Breathing heavily, she walked slowly into the darkness, following her gut feeling. She had never been very good at interpreting her instincts as he had, but the feeling was so overwhelming she couldn't help but follow.
Her footsteps echoed along the hollow tunnel filled with humidity. She walked for what seemed like hours, her only company being the beat of her own heart. She began to doubt her own instincts and wondered if she should truly be going this way. She was about to abandon the path when she found that she wasn't alone. From far away she could hear two voices but she could neither distinguish one from the other nor make out what they were saying. Walking more quietly now, knowing there were others along the tunnel that were probably better left undisturbed, she traveled a little more along. Soon she could hear the voices more clearly, quiet yet strong and she stood to listen.
Her heart skipped a beat when she heard his voice talking strong and clear. He was alright. This happiness was violently ripped from her, however, when she heard the second person speak. Low and cold, it was an evil hiss of voice that seemed to bleed from the walls and surround her in darkness. This sure had to be the voice of Lord Voldemort.
Moving a little closer she could hear the whispers of they're conversation. She longed to be closer but the memory of Voldemort's voice kept her in her place.
"…must be scared. But you have good reason." said the hiss.
"I'm not afraid of you. Not anymore." he replied, hate clearly evident in each word.
Voldemort laughed. "You forget, I know how to tell when you're lying. You are in fact, very afraid but not for your own safety."
Silence consumed the air. She feared to even breathe lest she be found. Her ears started to ring as the silence stretched on forever, as never-ending and unnerving as the darkness surrounding her. Frantically she felt her way along the crumbled rock wall of the tunnel, trying to get closer.
She nearly jumped out of her skin as a long blood-curdling scream broke through the deadly silence. His scream. Suddenly she forgot how to breathe. A million thoughts crossed her mind, but the most prominent was that she had to get to him. Fueled by panic and fear, she ran to him and towards the awful sound of his scream. Flashes of bright light illuminated her way puncturing, at least for a second, the deeply cold darkness. She ran like her life depended on it, and in a strange way it did but she didn't know it. Sprinting numbly towards a destination she didn't know, she barely noticed when she stumbled, blood falling thickly from her legs.
She was now close enough to hear the incantations they shouted at each other through the occasional crumbling of rock as a misplaced curse hit the walls instead. Her heart raced and she silently prayed he was alright. With a shatteringly blood red light and a thump there was a devastating silence.
Oh God…she thought. No, please no…
A green light flashed just as she saw an opening from the tunnel into a deep cave. Running along the wall, she skidded to a stop and stared into the dark cavern. A wand with its tip still lit rolled gently across the stone. She bent down to pick it up and straightened, holding the wand high above her head. The first thing she saw was a heap of black robes in the corner. Without thinking, she ran toward the unmoving form and shined the light across its face. She screamed and the wand flew from her grasp.
The face she saw was definitely not his. The unnatural pallor of this face was deadly white with thick trails of blood still streaming from his open eyes, filled with anger. Its mouth was distorted into a disturbingly unnatural silent scream.
Looking away quickly, she saw the deserted wand on the floor. As is rolled it illuminated another figured, hunched over and breathing irregularly, but still very much alive. She crawled on her hands and knees to him, seating herself directly in front of him on her knees.
She knew she needed to be strong for him, that he needed it more than she, but she couldn't restrain the tears that started to fall. "Oh Harry…" she whimpered.
He looked into her eyes and she saw so much, he hid nothing. She saw the agonizing pain, grief, and sadness that filled him. She reached for his hands, trying in the only way she could think of to comfort him, but as she looked down she saw they were covered in fresh blood. He had been holding his abdomen with both hands where she now saw was a deep, gushing wound right below his ribcage.
Scrambling for the fallen wand, she attempted to heal him but found it was no use. Voldemort had done an excellent job at making sure that Harry would die along with him. More tears slipped from her eyes and made their way silently down her cheeks.
He gently cupped one side of her face with a bleeding hand and turned her to face him. She let a sob escape her. He couldn't die, he just couldn't. Not here, not now. She wasn't ready, but then again, would she ever be ready?
"I love you." she said. It slipped out of her lips so easily and she knew, without a doubt in her mind, that it was true. She so badly at that moment to kiss him, to love him, to take away all the pain he'd ever known. She looked into his eyes, willing him to understand.
He did. Before she knew it, his lips were upon hers and she felt sparks going off in her head. She could no longer think clearly, but she knew she wanted more, need more of him, of this. She threaded her fingers through his dark locks of hair and pulled herself closer. His hands left her face and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her even closer so that every part of them were touching. He drove her crazy. It just wasn't enough. She ran her tongue along his bottom lip, begging for entry. He immediately opened his mouth for her.
It was so horribly beautiful. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth but she didn't care, this first time of being with him like this would soon be her last and she couldn't let it end. Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks, bleeding into their kiss, as colors bleed together to become another. That was how she felt, completely whole in his arms as he filled a piece of her heart that she never knew she was missing. Neither wanted the moment to end. She cried freely now, her tears tasting salty against his mouth. She realized lethargically that the tears were not only hers but his as well. Her heart broke. She had never seen him cry before and yet, here he was, kissing her passionately and bearing his soul to her. He was an open book, dying to be read and she wanted him to know just how much she loved him for it.
She let all her love and passion for him out, fueling the already out of control kiss. She couldn't breathe but she didn't care, her light-headedness only made his skin feel better against hers.
When he finally pulled away from her, she felt oddly lost. She gripped his hair tightly, keeping him in her grip and not wanting to let go. Her breathing was heavy and she didn't open her eyes for fear it would only be a dream or, even worse, he would be dead. Her chest tightened as that thought brought her crashing back to reality. Harry was going to die, and there was nothing she could do. She felt so hopeless.
His hand reached up and stroked her cheek, coaxing her to open her eyes. Reluctantly, she did and found herself still close enough to feel the warmth of his body against hers. His emerald eyes sparkled and her heart couldn't help but skip a beat. For the first time she realized she was soaked in his warm, fresh blood but there was no way she was going to break their contact. He lowered his head next to hers, his breath tickling the hairs on her temple.
"I love you too, Hermione." he whispered gently.
Her breath hitched and she felt like she was on the verge of tears again but they remained unshed at the corner of her eyes. She whispered quietly, "Does it hurt?"
"Not anymore." he replied.
And that was how she found herself here, lying beside his lifeless body and gripping his hand. The weight on her chest being her own grief, killing her from the inside out. She still couldn't wrap her mind around the thought that she would never again see his startling green eyes shine, hear his voice whispering in her ear. She would live, this she knew, but she would only exist. Her heart was lost and she felt horribly alone.
She can hear her rescuers somewhere within the dark tunnel, roaring with victory of the Death Eaters, unaware of the tremendous spiral of fear, love, and grief that echoed among the cavern. If only walls could talk.
Her eyes slip closed and she takes a deep ragged breath. Someone once said that we are all dying since the day we are born.
But for Hermione Granger, she will never be dying fast enough.