Harry lay in his bed, thinking about Hermione as usual. He couldn't sleep. He was exhausted, he had lain in bed for hours tossing and turning, but his mind refused to rest. So instead, he thought… mostly about Hermione. She had been acting strange lately. Almost as if she was on pot. Harry quickly dismissed that thought from his mind. It wasn't possible. Hermione on pot? Never. Hermione would never do that to herself. She was too smart. But then again, she had smelled like it lately, oddly enough, although she dismissed it as fireplace smoke.

Harry got up and walked to the window. The cool stone floor felt good on his sweaty feet. He pulled back the long scarlet curtain letting it gently brush the tips of his toes, tickling them. He rubbed his thumb in circles on the soft velvet of the curtains, and then tied the curtain into place with the gold tasseled ropes. Harry stared out into the light of the full moon. It was bright, like someone was out there behind the dark sheet of night poking a giant wand through and doing a lumos charm. He gazed down at the grounds. Suddenly, he noticed a figure down near a tree. The figure crouched down beneath the low, strong branches. Harry noticed an object in the figure's hand. He rushed to his trunk and grabbed his fifth year omnioculars from under his boxers that he had bought at the world cup. He tiptoed back to the window, so he wouldn't wake anyone up. The figure's back was facing him now. It had long puffy hair, and a slender body. Harry adjusted the left knob on his omnioculars to zoom in on whatever was in the figure's hand. A rope! It was a coil of rope. The figure unrolled it, and began to tie it in a knot. Suddenly, something clicked in Harry's mind. He knew that puffy hair! It was Hermione! But what was she doing, and why? And what did the rope have to do with it? Harry was puzzled.

He sat down on his bed and rested his chin on his fist. He let his eyes wander over to the picture of the three of them, Ron, Hermione and him over at the Weasleys house. His mind drifted back to that time, when they were staying there for the summer, so happy and untroubled, except for that one night, where he and Hermione were huddled together to keep warm when it had gotten so cold.

They had a moment of intimacy, and Hermione said to Harry, "Sometimes, I wish I could just die."

Then something clicked in Harry's mind. The rope, the tree, the odd behavior, it all fit! Hermione was going to commit suicide. And Harry was the only one awake; the only one who could save her.

Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak, his wand, and his marauder's map, and ran down the curving stone steps to the common room. Luckily it was empty. Harry threw the invisibility cloak around him, and burst through the portrait hole. He raced down the moving stair cases until he reached the ground floor. He tore through the doors and sprinted through the wet grass. The blades tickled his feet as he ran, but he didn't notice. He could think of nothing else but Hermione's safety. He didn't know what he'd do if anything were to happen to her. His chest became unbearably tight, but time was running out. He had no time to stop and rest, Hermione was slipping the rope over her head. He yelled out to her,

"Stop! Hermione, no!"

He got to her just in time to see her tighten the rope.

"Incidere!"

He shouted, and immediately Hermione was cut free. She collapsed and Harry leaned in to catch her. She hung limp in his arms.

Harry lay her down on the soft earth, and put his arms around her. He hung his head low over her chest, and sobbed. He cried for himself, having to go on without her, he cried for Ron, who was in love with her, he cried for her parents, their only daughter dead, but mostly he cried for her, she hadn't had enough time in the world. There were so many things she had never experienced, she many things she had wanted to do, but didn't have enough time to do them.

Harry didn't know how long he cried for, but after a while he dried his eyes. He pulled her body closer, as if some of his life could be squeezed into her. Harry breathed in her scent. It was like lilac buds, just bursting forth from the earth, and books, and the creature they had helped Hagrid deal with that afternoon, and tears and happiness and sadness, and despair… And it was beautiful. He pressed her body to his chest and put his head on her shoulder.

Suddenly, he felt something. In her chest, like a small butterfly beneath her skin, a slight movement! Could it be? Could it possibly be? Could she be alive after all? He daren't hope. He would just be crushed once again. No, it couldn't be. It was just Harry's imagination. But wait! There it was again! That small fluttering beneath her breast! Harry pressed his hand to her chest and sure enough, there was a heartbeat! It was very slow and weak, but it was there alright! Harry was so joyful, he pressed his lips to hers in a moment of oblivion, and kissed her for all he was worth.

Hermione's eyes fluttered open, as she awoke from her almost fatal sleep. Harry drew back from the kiss, realizing what he had just done. As Hermione's eyes came into focus, she saw Harry. He was so close there noses were almost touching. She could taste his sweetness still upon her lips. She darted her tongue out to taste him on her lips. He was sweet but bitter at the same time, almost like one of those really dark chocolates that you could get for three sickles at the candy shop in Hogsmead. Abruptly, Hermione realized the position they were in. Harry being almost on top of her, sweaty, and wet from tears, and his arms wrapped around her. His legs in between hers, her legs splayed out in a V. Her chest was pressing into his, and Harry looking deep into her eyes.

She didn't know why, but Hermione suddenly had a strong urge to kiss him. She tilted her head to the side a little bit, and captured his lips, forgetting all about the awkward position they were in. Harry soon lusted for more, and thrust his tongue between her soft, heated lips. His tongue explored her mouth, and caressed its velvety softness. Harry's entire body felt as if it was on fire, his hands franticly exploring her chest. He finally found her shirt buttons and began ripping them open. Then Harry's shirt was off. Needing to press her bare flesh to his, Hermione pushed Harry's clumsy hands away from her bra buckle, and undid it herself. Tossing her bra a few feet away on the grass, Hermione pressed her bare chest to Harry's.

Hermione suddenly came to her senses. She could not do this! He couldn't do this! This had to stop! Hermione pulled her lips from his and pushing him off her she sat up and looked into his eyes.

"Harry, we can't do this."

Without another word, Hermione ran off into the darkness of the night, leaving Harry alone and yearning for her touch.

Up in the Gryffindor tower, Ronald Weasley moved away from the window, His skin crawling, and his eyes fiery red with rage. All was definitely not well.