He was crying, at last the end has come. He was confused on how to face the end. He wanted to be strong and tell her that they'll be okay, he was almost let it go, let his sorrow be seen, but he was confused so he look her in the eyes and gave a small smile.

He could see that she was more confused than he was, she asked question with her stares, he couldn't answer it for he won't be able to hold his desperation if he open his lips. So he smiled.

She could see the sorrow still, but the smile stopped her to ask no more. So she nodded her beautiful head and left him alone.

And then he cried. The unshed tears streaming down his cheeks like a waterfall. He didn't utter a sound, just silent painful tear. Each drop stung his cheek like a needle.

He was in tremendous pain and Hermione could see it clear.

"Harry…" She called for her pitiful brother whose face was flushed with tears. He didn't answer her and refused to look at Hermione who stood at the door still. "Harry…" She called again as softly as the first one, this time he responded.

He closed his eyes and sighed heavily. "This is the end, Hermione," he opened his tear dimmed eyes, "Nothing I nor Morgan can do against this."

He moved his head toward his sister's direction. Hermione looked as beautiful as she always be, her long thick wavy hair shine as the sunlight touch them, the warm brown color shimmered, her golden hair ornaments gleamed gloriously.

Her brown eyes looked heavy with the long lashes, full with worry and her rosy lips quivered a bit. Her clothes of king's wives showed most of her skin, a soft hue of tan that shimmer under the sun, her subtle curves, her narrow waist and small calves.

Harry always love to look at his beautiful sister, more than anything, he would paint her on a canvas in hope it would capture the beauty just a little, she was his muse, until he knew what love is. And now the sight of his sister only makes him weep even more for it reminds him of something dear to him.

"I should've known. How foolish I was to hope that all the signs won't lead to this. Father's trip to Gryffindor, the parties full of women and hashish that the King insisted me to go, all these works that I have to do, all these attempts to part me with her. Oh, Hermione, what should I do? The King has called me to be in his presence this evening. I can't face him right now, not when I'm full of hatred against him. Please come with me, Hermione… I can't face him alone."

She can't take it anymore. She rushed to the weeping mess that is her brother. Took him into her embrace and buried her face on the top of his head so he couldn't see the tears that marred her face.

"My dear, Harry… Of course I won't let you go alone. In fact, the King had ordered me to go with you; he knows how hard it is for you. He loves you, Harry. He loves us. He didn't want to hurt you, he sent me to comfort you when he knew I was so worried of you. You see, dear, His Majesty has his plans, he won't neglect you."

Hermione whispered all these words softly to his ear, just like when they were small, when he was sad and she would whisper soothing words softly to his ear. It comforted him greatly, but he still freed himself from the safe embrace.

"But why? Am I not good enough? We never need anything from Gryffindor, why bother? We own Gryffindor; offering Morgan's hand to the Malfoy is the same with handing the Slytherin throne to a lesser! If it were me that's betrothed to her, I'll give up my name and stand by her side. She'll be the ruler, a queen for Slytherin and I'll be her consort, I won't, I never desired the throne! The royal bloodline will be hers! Why the King chose Malfoy over me? They will want the throne; they want their name to rule Slytherin! Why didn't he choose me? I… I love her!"

His voice rose, he almost roared, but the last sentence was said softly, merely a sigh. Hermione cupped his face with her long fine fingers and smiled. "You are foolish, Harry. You're screaming like a girl," she chuckled, receiving a glare from the younger boy. "It's not love that runs a kingdom, it is power. And why do you think that our King will hand over the throne to Malfoy?"

Harry was going to protest, but a servant came rushing in. "What is it? Did you not see we're in the middle of a conversation?" Hermione was annoyed; she frowned at the girl with a muslin dress, a matching uniform that all the servants wore. Cho was still out of breath, she tried her best to regain her composure. "The King called for Lord Black and you to come at once, Madam."