A/N - Written for the Writers30days Challenge and Show me the Angst Challenge

Prompt: "No matter how careful you are, there's going to be the sense you missed something, the collapsed feeling under your skin that you didn't experience it all. There's that fallen heart feeling that you rushed right through the moments where you should've been paying attention."- Chuck Palahniuk.

"Over the horizon"

Title: The Sting of Regret

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,172

Warnings/Notes: None

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Hermione shivered slightly as she kept walking; her arms circled around her body to keep herself warm, her feet dipping slightly with every snow covered step, and her exhaling breath coming out with short, smoky puffs. It was a cold December night. One where she fully planned to sit around a fireplace all warm and toasty while drinking the cliché eggnog and singing carols. Instead, she found herself on a mission to retrieve back her best friend.

When everyone had noticed that Harry hadn't bothered to come celebrate Christmas with the Weasley clan, a few of them immediately dispatched themselves to go search for him. They all went to his home, his work place and his favourite haunts. But only she knew where he was. From the moment they decided that it was uncharacteristic of him to not show up and how silent he had been previously, Hermione had a niggling feeling that she might know where he was. Which is how she found herself in Godric's Hollow on Christmas Eve making her way through the maze of stone slabs dotted around the cemetery.

She found him where she knew he would be, standing before the graves of his parents with his shoulders hunched and his eyes intensely fixed on their names. The scene was so familiar that her chest tightened instantly at the sight. It seemed almost normal and fitting that he would visit his parent's grave on the same night that he first discovered them over a year ago.

She took cautious steps as she made her way towards him, rightly expecting him not to look up at her while she finally stopped and stood beside him, looking at the graves of his parents.

"Thought you might find me."

Her first impulse was to drag him by the arm and lead him out of the cemetery. Instead, she stepped closer to him and made her tone casual to match his. "I thought you were coming to the Burrow for Christmas."

"I changed my mind."

She hadn't expected that as an answer. "You shouldn't be alone on Christmas, Harry. No one should."

From the corner of her eye, she saw his lips twist in a small smirk. "That's the thing, isn't it? I'm alone anyway," he mumbled bitterly.

"Harry, no-" She gave up all pretence of looking at the graves in front of them, and turned to face him fully. "Why would you think that?"

He shrugged lightly before lifting his gaze to meet hers. His eyes looked back at her hauntingly, his green irises darkened considerably by what she could easily recognize as pain. Hermione felt the need to embrace him immediately; to whisper soft words of comfort as she held him. But like all other instances when they were alone, she checked herself; keeping her hands limply by her sides on purpose.

"You're not alone."

A beat passed before he said softly, "I will be." He dropped his gaze to her left hand, and Hermione flexed her gloved fingers consciously.

Taking in a shaky breath she said quickly, "You have Ginny." She ducked her head immediately, knowing that her voice had broken the moment she had spoken her future sister-in-law's name. "And Ron, Molly, Arthur, George. You have too many people to think you're alone." She waited for him to look at her. When he didn't, she continued softy. "You have me."

Harry's gaze stayed on the graves in front of him in intense contemplation. "I feel like I missed it."

"Missed what?" was her automatic response. She knew what he was talking about. How couldn't she? But the topic was a dangerous one, and she wanted him to leave with her so they could go back to the Burrow and celebrate just like she had planned.

"My chance."

Hermione bit her bottom lip so hard it hurt. Taking another shaky breath, she stepped away from him; the topic he wanted to talk about making her chest feel like it was collapsing in panic. His eyes immediately flickered up at her movement, his eyebrows knitting together in a frown.

"Hermione-"

"We should go." She circled her arms around her body in an effort to stop her voice from shaking. "We should go now." She couldn't talk about this. Not now. Not while she was wearing someone else's ring.

He watched her silently for a moment before he nodded, his gaze dropping back to the graves of his parents. "I'm sorry."

She knew she shouldn't ask him why. She just knew it. But that inherent quality in her that wanted answers reared its curious head and she asked him, "For what?"

He hesitated a beat before whispering, "For not fighting for you."

She didn't want to have this conversation. She knew that if they did, she would be the one to break the promise made by that silver piece of jewellery she wore. "I'll wait outside," she said shakily as she started taking cautious steps away from him. She waited for him to nod his assent before she turned on her heel and made her way to the exit of the cemetery, fighting back the tears that burned their way to the surface.

Once she was a fair distance away, she finally turned around and watched him, noticing that he hadn't shifted much since she had arrived. She had never really been the type of person who believed in 'Charming Princes' and 'Happily Ever Afters', being forced to believe in magic only after she turned eleven and had received a thick parchment envelope that stated blatantly that she should. But she had, in her naivety, believed in having that one moment of contentment when she was at her old age, looking over the horizon and knowing she had no regrets in her life.

She wasn't sure if she could have that moment now.

When Harry finally looked up, his eyes searching hers until their gazes met, she felt her breath hitch in fear. There was a certain determination in his eyes, a sharp edge to his jaw which made her think that he had made up his mind about something.

Hermione stayed frigidly still as he made his way over to her; his steps slow, deliberate and making her more uncomfortable with each step. When he finally reached her, Hermione found herself shivering uncontrollably, something that she was sure wasn't caused by the weather, but by her own nerves grating nervously against one another.

"Let's go," he mumbled softly, his gaze barely meeting hers.

Hermione nodded, quickly hiding her disappointment - for what, she wasn't sure. She let her fingers be held lightly by his while he took a moment to look around the cemetery, that same serious glint in his eye. It didn't take all that long before she felt that familiar pull and let herself be taken, determined to put this moment they had experienced together behind her.

The truth was, she need not have worried. That night, Harry Potter proposed to Ginny Weasley; and she said yes.

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