A/N: I apologize for the last chapter. I know it was short but it was the same as the first really. As always, a round of applause for my beta reader, Hermione 2405. She is awesome. Now on with the fic.

Harry cradled her in his arms. She appeared to be sleeping. A grimace rested on her lovely porcelain features and tears still stained her cheeks. He knew she was unconscious, though. He swept her off her feet, and held her close to his chest. He never imagined that the first time he swept her off her feet, she would be unconscious. Harry carried her out of the bathroom and down the hall. He turned suddenly, remembering the silhouette sitting in the living room.

"Edward," he said spinning around, "If she doesn't live, you won't live. This is not a threat, but a promise" With that he apparated into his living room and laid her on his couch. 'What was she thinking? What could be so bad that she felt she had to kill herself?'

She looked so tranquil. He ran his hand across her face, caressing her velvety cheek. She was so soft. He couldn't tear his eyes away. But if he didn't she would surely die.

He ran into the pantry. It was almost always stocked with potions, courtesy of Hermione. Of course, he could make the potions on his own. He was a certified healer. Still, he was no Hermione Granger. He selected four small bottles from the shelf, a blue, purple and two black, and dashed back into the room. He settled the containers onto the end table. He rested on one knee beside Hermione on the couch. Hermione looked uncomfortable, almost like she couldn't breathe.

'Holy shit' he thought 'She COULDN'T breathe.' It was probably that bloody dress. He tussled with the laces but they wouldn't give. 'Oh fuck it.' He seized the dress by the bodice and ripped. At once, Hermione began to visibly breathe. Although she was breathing, she wasn't awake. He snatched the black vial from the table and emptied its contents into his hand. Gently and steadily, he smoothed salve across her bosom and wrist. In reply to the salve, her pale skin turned a feeble lilac color. Harry was reasonably comfortable touching Hermione in such an intimate manner. She was after all Hermione. Had Hermione been any other woman, he would have died of humiliation at the mere thought of putting ointment on any part of her body. She needed to wake, so he could apply life sustaining charms. He didn't bother to wake her; the smell of the creamy potion would handle that. He knew the salve was burning her chest and wrist. The color had changed from lilac to a violent shade of puce. It was only a matter of time. Minutes later, she still wasn't awake. She needed to wake soon to orally administer the remainder of the potions and administer charms. Otherwise, death would be the inevitable.

"Enervate" he spoke softly to no avail. "Enervate" This time her eyes fluttered slightly but didn't open. "Hermione, love, I need you to wake up. I need you to look at me. Could you do that for me, baby? Look at me, love." He said tenderly in a voice he reserved only for her and the Weasley offspring. She nodded slightly and shuttered. She fluttered her eyes a little more and looked at him. He could tell that her vision was blurry. She tried to focus her deep hazel eyes on his face but didn't succeed.

"Harry" she said in a raspy voice.

"No talking, lovey. Open up. You need to take these potions." He held her head up with one hand. He uncorked the blue vial with his free hand and held it to her lips. She wiggled around, forcing it away from her orifice.

"No." she moaned.

"You will drink it," He said gently. "You cut yourself and so you must deal with the consequences if you want to live."

"Maybe I don't want to live." She said as curtly as possible in her current condition. Another time, her retort would have astounded him. But he already figured she didn't want to live from her suicide attempt.

"I don't care what you want." He said. "For once I'm doing something for me. Now open wide." She opened her mouth in a gasp and he poured the retched liquid in. She coughed and spit it on his dress robes. "Now, now 'Mione let's not go through this. We both know there is a replenishing charm on this bottle and it will refill itself. At least, until you drink up. Now, we are going to try this again." Just as he had said, the bottle refilled itself and he poured it down her throat.

She winced as the hot, distasteful bile slid down her throat. It clung to her esophagus, pulling its lining and making it raw. She couldn't breathe. She tried to cough it up but it continued it's descent through the long tube, referred to as her throat. She needed air. It was clogging her throat. She tried to sit up more to allow the liquid remedy to slide down. She couldn't pull her body up. She couldn't move. She began to struggle. "Relax." Came Harry's voice. At one time, she would have found it soothing, but now she found his voice frustrating. How could she relax when the thing she wanted most was being snatched, Ripped away from her by the man who called himself her best friend? She couldn't relax. She started to cry. She was hurting, mentally and physically. She couldn't stop the tears. It hurt to cry each tear caused her so much pain. Her body was dry and it lacked so much blood.

"Hermione, baby, don't cry it will be alright. I promise. I need you to drink two more." This did nothing for her attitude. She started to bawl. "I know honey." He said tenderly as always. "It will be okay. But I need you to drink first." And without her consent, he poured the contents of the last two vials down her gullet. She moaned at the sensations. She squinted her eyes shut so she wouldn't have to look at Harry, instigator of her misery.

After the concoctions had made the full journey down her throat, she tried to sit up again. She couldn't move. "Stop 'Mione." She felt her body rising and settled on to something warm and familiar. She opened her eyes only to be faced with Harry's staring back at her. His eyes pierced through her soul with his kind and considerate gaze. She hated that look.

"Don't look at me, Harry. You ruined my life."

"I saved your life." He said pulling her closer.

"You didn't save a damn thing, Harry Potter." She said feeling her strength coming back.

"Correction Missy, I saved the fucking world." He said in righteous indignation. He had a point there, so she made no argument. "Hermione?" he asked his voice gentle as a lamb again. "Why'd you do it?" She snapped her eyes shut. "He...he...he said he hated me." She stammered. "He called me a nagging bitch." Harry was shocked and appalled.

"You are a nagger." Harry agreed. Her eyes shot open in horrified shock. "But it's what makes you loveable. I wouldn't have finished school or defeated Voldemort or cleaned Godric's Hollow, if it weren't for you. I need you to nag and push me or nothing gets done. Don't listen to him. You are wonderful and perfect and gorgeous and amazing and the greatest, most wonderful woman in the world." He finished. She could feel the tears fighting in the back of her eyes, threatening to overflow again. "You really think so?"

"Of course, besides you owe me that life of yours." She looked confused. "I saved that life. I fought for you. I ended the war so that you could live your life. Don't you get it 'Mi" he said getting riled up, "Your life is mine." She was shocked. He never spoke that way. He never asked for or claimed anything, never really said what was on his mind anymore. This was unexpected. Then she remembered that in school he was prone to mood swings. "Harry…I…You…Really?"

"I love you, Hermione and you're mine. I want you to be mine, need you to be mine. Completely."

"Maybe" she said.

"Ok" he replied. She closed her eyes and laid her head against his chest. "Sleep now." he whispered mostly to himself. He sweetly kissed her forehead and watched on as she fell asleep.

A/N: End? You tell me I have an idea if not. But I think this may be a nice place to stop this fic before I ruin it. If I don't get lazy, next chapter equals Edward's take on the whole caboodle. R/R