These Thoughts of You by T.C. Geralds

Rating: PG13
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 13/10/2003
Last Updated: 30/10/2003
Status: Completed

Everything can become clear in a moment, as Harry and Hermione are about to discover the hard
way.




1. HER
------

Disclaimer: Oh how I wish I was brilliant enough to have come up with Harry

Potter. I didn’t though – it belongs to the insanely talented J.K. Rowling and her

Publishers. This is being written merely for love of the characters.

Part 1: HER

Its funny, the clarity that comes with knowing you’re about to die. You can look back on your
life and see, in an instant, all the things you should have done differently. Paths not taken,
roads not traveled, decisions bungled, all of it. A strange peace fills me even now, amidst a
lingering pain and sense of self-satisfaction. My life seems so clear to me now, at the end.

I have lived a full life; I know it. I may be young, but in my seventeen years I have lived a
lifetime. I’ve known joy, sadness, pain, and passion. There are few witches or wizards who could
claim to have accomplished what I have. How many have stood at the side of the Boy Who Lived and
faced the Dark Lord time after time? How many would have been able to help in the fight against
Voldemort as I have? How many have had the amazing friends I have, and seen the wondrous sights I
have?

The crowning achievement of my life would have been two days from now, when I graduated at the
top of my class at Hogwarts and received a full scholarship to the most prestigious college for the
study of magic in all of England. It won’t happen now, of course, as I won’t be around. I am, after
all, a very smart witch, and I know how serious my injuries are.

If you were to ask most people at the end of their lives what regrets they had, I imagine you’d
get a long list of things that they would have liked to do differently. Not so for me. There are
few things in my life I would change, except for one. It is my only real regret – ah, but what a
regret it is! You see, I never told my best friend that I love him. No, I don’t mean a platonic
love. I mean a soul-destroying, can’t stand being apart from you, and want to share the rest of my
life with you kind of love. He’ll never know now, and my regret for that is hard to put into words.
I am sure there are those that would find that funny, Hermione Granger not being able to articulate
a feeling. It is true though – my unspoken love for Harry Potter is something I find difficult to
properly express.

I think I knew for sure how I felt during our third year, when we were riding on the back of a
hippogriff together, desperate to save Harry’s godfather. I had always felt comfortable with Harry;
always enjoyed his company. While we were flying through the air, the wind cold on my face and my
heart hammering in my chest, I felt it. It struck home in me with so much force I gasped. There was
a *rightness* to it all that I couldn’t ignore. I belonged with him, and he with me. I had
been by his side since the beginning, and together we had overcome the worst that life had thrown
at us. The realization that rushed through me in that one moment was clear – I loved him. And I’ve
lived secretly with that love in my heart for more than two years.

Harry is one of those special people that is so full of life he influences all those around him.
You can’t help but get caught up in his enthusiasm and passion for living. It makes sense, really –
most of his life growing up he was not *allowed* to live. When he finally made it to Hogwarts
and was able to experience life, he grabbed it with both hands. That kind of joy for life is
contagious. You want to know it. You want to know **him.**

There is an innocence about him. He’s been through so much, and yet he can still look at life
and smile. There has been so much pain in his life, and yet he still shares the best parts of
himself with everyone he cares for. He doesn’t care that he could be hurt by someone. I’ve never
met anyone so emotionally honest in my life. Harry doesn’t try to put his best foot forward,
doesn’t try to impress anyone. He’s just…..Harry. And I love him for it.

It’s getting quite cold. I imagine that means my time is getting short. I can hear sounds around
me; someone is getting close to where I am lying. Is it him? I hope not. I’d hate for him to have
to see me before I am gone – I would spare him that pain if I could. There has been too much pain
for him already. If only there had been some other way to save him! I don’t regret my decision. He
is too important to too many people. I had to save him. He’ll hate me a little for it, I know.
That’s ok. I smile as I imagine happier times with him, seeing that famous smile. And those
eyes…..I always loved his eyes. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, and if he is any
indication it’s true. When I look into those eyes I see the most beautiful person. And I never told
him. I’m such a coward.

There have been many times I almost told him. There was the end of fourth year, after Cedric was
killed, at the platform. I’ve never seen him so lost. I wanted to take him in my arms and make all
the pain go away. I kissed him that day, on the cheek. How he didn’t see in my eyes that I loved
him then I’ll never know. He is a man I suppose, and men never see what’s right in front of their
faces when it comes to women. It would be endearing if it weren’t so damn frustrating. Listen to me
– my thoughts are a mess.

We would have been so good together. There had been Cho, but she wasn’t for him and thankfully
he realized it. Who knows him better than I? I know when he is hurting. When he needs someone to
talk to, I am there. When I need someone, he somehow knows and comes to me without being asked.
Maybe I should be scared at the connection that has grown between us, but I’m not. When I am with
him, the rest of the world goes away, and it is just us. Why didn’t I ever say anything? What we
have is special. What we have happens once in a lifetime, if at all. It could have been so much
more. And I wasted it.

Oh God, he’s here. I can’t see him, but I know it’s him. I’d know him anywhere, just from his
scent. He’s crying. I can feel his tears on my face. He must be holding me, but I can’t feel it.
Why did he have to get to me so soon? I don’t want him to see me die. At least he **is** here,
which means I succeeded. He is still alive. Thank God.

Maybe I will tell him now. Would that make things harder? I don’t think I can keep it from him
any longer. Can I even make my lips move, my mouth work? I barely feel anything. Yes, I will tell
him. I have to say it once, and he has to hear it. I won’t leave without telling him. He needs to
know.

“I love you, Harry Potter” I whisper. It feels good saying it. I can’t see his reaction, but
that’s ok. He knows. I know he knows. In the growing light, I smile. I love you, Harry. I always
will.

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Author’s Note: This is a bit of an experiment. I wrote it over the span of two hours in one
sitting, and won’t have it beta read.

Coming next: Part 2 - HIM



2. HIM
------

‘If I should lose you
The stars would fall from the skies
If I should lose you
The leaves would wither and die

The birds in May time
Would sing a lonely refrain
And I would wander around
Hating the sound of rain

With you beside me
No wind in winter would blow
With you beside me
A rose would bloom in the snow

I gave you my love
But I was living a dream
And living would seem in vain
If I lost you’

-Nina Simone

Part 2 – HIM

I’ve heard people say that there are a few select moments in your life when everything makes
sense – when all the fractured, myriad pieces come together to form an understandable whole. Time
seems to slow down. Everything comes into sharp focus. Almost anything is possible. I know now that
it’s all true.

My mind is still reeling from everything I’ve seen in the past hour. It is hard to make sense of
it all; I don’t even think I can try yet. The only thing that I can seem to focus on is the body I
am standing over. **Her** body. I can see her chest rise and fall, but her breathing is so weak.
So weak! This can’t be happening. It isn’t meant to be this way. I’ve *won.* The victory is
supposed to be ours; all of ours! The fabulous trio, able to take on the world! God knows in the
past, with Ron and Hermione at my side, I have felt like I was able to do anything. So why is she
here dying when I have succeeded?

There are sounds all around me, but they seem distant. Somewhere nearby, I know the Order is
mopping up what remains of the Dark Lord’s followers. Tom Riddle’s body, or what remains of it, is
back where I left it. He won’t be coming back from where I have sent him this time. I am still
amazed at the rage that had welled up within me when he hit her with the spell. The spell that had
been meant for me. The spell that she had stepped in front of. She had done it to give me time to
finish him. She sacrificed herself for me. Why did she do that? Oh God, Hermione. Why?

She is as light as a feather in my arms. There’s so much blood! It is all over my robes now, but
I don’t care. The only thing that matters now is to make her comfortable and stop the bleeding.
There are excellent healers in the Order, and if I can keep her alive a little longer she will be
ok. If I keep telling myself that maybe I will believe it.

Her lips move, and I am stunned. I can’t believe she’s still conscious. She is straining to say
something, and I can tell the effort is costing her. I lean my head down to listen. If she is
trying this hard, it must be important. I feel the slight air of her breath as she whispers five
words. And with those five words, my world shatters.

Cradling her in my arms, I weep. I’ve never cried in her presence before – I imagine she would
be surprised to see it. Together we have faced some of the worst things the world can throw at you,
and not once have I shed a tear. One of those moments is upon me. Everything is so clear. I’ve been
a fool. She loves me. She loves me too.

I’m not sure when I knew for certain that I loved Hermione Granger. I bet if you asked any woman
when they knew about their man, they could tell you. Women notice those things. Sometimes I am
amazed at how much more they see about certain things than men. For me, there was no lightning
bolt. For me, it came in stages.

The first time I really thought about it was when Ron and I were in the hospital wing together
with her during second year. Seeing her lying on that bed petrified was worse than being locked in
the cupboard. I *missed* her. It wasn’t like missing a friend I hadn’t seen in a while. It was
more like feeling part of me was gone.

After that I was a little scared. Growing up, the only strong emotions I felt were all negative.
I wasn’t used to caring for anyone so much. For awhile I fooled myself into thinking that is all my
feelings were – the caring of a friend for a friend. Then the end of third year came.

Riding that Hippogriff, I felt it again. I was *supposed* to be there with her. It was
right. Things happened so quickly that night, I never really had a chance to dwell on how I felt.
Another of those moments……and one I didn’t see for what it was. I think the final step, however,
came in our fourth year.

When I saw her on the arm of Victor Krum, I discovered a new feeling – jealousy. I couldn’t fool
myself after that. I wanted her with me, but I knew that it was too late. I’d lost my chance. The
food that night tasted like ashes. I loved Hermione, and she’d never know. There was Victor. After
that night, I was pretty sure Ron had feelings for her as well. I stayed silent. Why do we see
these things when it is too late?

For over two years now, I have been the best actor in the world. I’ve pretended she is still
only a very good friend. Anyone who knows how intelligent Hermione is can tell you that is no small
accomplishment. It is incredible that she hasn’t seen right through me. There have been moments
when I thought for sure she had. All the times when my eyes lingered a bit too long or my hands
held on a bit too tightly. How I’ve tortured myself. How long has she felt the same way?

Being around her makes me happy. She *knows* me, and I know her. Sometimes Ron jokes that
we talk more with our eyes than with our mouths, and it is true. Little things really – I’ll pass
her the salt before she asks, or she will quietly hug me after a particularly grueling potions
test. Being near her makes me feel alive. It’s so easy to feel love. If only it were as easy to
tell the person you love how you feel.

I can feel her trembling in my arms. She’s so cold. My arms hold her tightly, and my tears fall
softly on her face. I trace the path of her cheek with my finger. So beautiful. She could have been
mine. Please open your eyes. I want to look into those eyes I love so much. Please hear me. I want
to tell you how you’re everything I never knew I wanted. You can’t leave me. Not now. Life can’t be
this cruel. You have to know how I feel.

She doesn’t have much time left. Help isn’t coming. Can you actually feel it when your heart
breaks? Something inside me is dying, as surely as the woman I love is dying in my arms. It can’t
happen. It *won’t*. I won’t let it. She’s been there for me for all of my life that has been
worth living. She’s been my anchor, my conscience, my emotional compass. She’s given me all of
herself. It is time I did the same for her. She **will not die.**

I’m not sure what I’m doing. My wand is in my hand, and I am holding it over her. I know little
of healing, but I must do this. It can’t end this way. One of those moments is here. Everything is
clear. Performing magic is like reaching down deep inside and tapping a piece of your own spirit.
This time I need to reach deeper. Its there, a brightly burning flame too long suppressed inside
me. It is where she lives inside me. I surrender to it, and let it claim me for its own.

*Live.*

*I’m nothing without you.*

*I love you.*

*Live.*

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Author’s Note: Coming next: Reaching For the Light



3. Reaching For the Light
-------------------------

Author’s Note and Disclaimer: Thanks to everyone that reviewed the first two parts of the story.
It always makes an author’s day to get feedback! No, I still don’t own Harry Potter unfortunately.
No profit is being made from this, I just write in JK’s world because I love it.

Part 3: Reaching for the Light

*Live.*

The voice startles me. All has been quiet in this place – I can only describe it as a tranquil
silver sea. I’ve been floating on the current, letting the waves carry me where they will. In the
distance, a pure and blinding light grows steadily closer. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more at
peace. The sound of the water is soothing, and the promise of…..*something*…..is whispered in
the air. It is hard to describe the softly voiced thoughts being played through my mind. The
closest I can come is love. This feeling is like being surrounded by pure, unadulterated love. No
wonder the voice seems so harsh amidst all the calmness.

*Live.*

When I first heard it, it sounded incredibly far away. It was almost an echo. After the third
time, however, it seemed closer. The voice shatters the tranquility; imperious, demanding. I am
reminded of something as I hear it more loudly in my head: A pair of green eyes, a shock of unruly
black hair, and a mischievous grin. I know this voice. It is important to me. Realization hits like
a thunderbolt.

*Harry.*

I remember now. I am dead. Voldemort killed me, and Harry killed him. It is Harry’s voice I hear
coming to me over the waves. How can this be? No….could he be dead too? All sense of peace vanishes
as this horrible thought strikes home. He couldn’t have died. I felt him holding me in his arms. I
remember his tears on my face. That was the last thing I remember before waking up in this
place.

It is strange, this feeling of disembodiment. There are no limbs to move, and so I continue to
float. Harry’s voice is getting louder in my head; more insistent. Something else seems mixed in
with the words – tears? Is he crying? He couldn’t be crying. Harry Potter doesn’t cry. Everything
lurches around me suddenly, and I find myself elsewhere.

I’m flying. At least I think I am. There is nothing but open air all around me, and I am not
falling. There is no sense of movement, just a sense that something is moving towards me. Suddenly
I see it – a figure slowly growing closer. I realize with a start that I must be moving, and
quickly too, for the pursuing figure is a blur of motion and it is only gaining ground gradually.
It will be a few more minutes before it catches me at this rate. Do I want it to? As it comes into
perspective, I can see it is….but it can’t be…..it is. Harry. How can he be here?

He reaches his hand out to me, and I try and grasp it. Although we’re so close, it feels as if
we are reaching across a vast chasm to take each other’s hand. I can feel resistance as my fingers
stretch, reaching desperately. A distant protest arises in my mind – why would I want to give up
this peace, this perfect love? Wouldn’t I rather stay? No, I feel myself answer with all of my
being. I love Harry. I want this.

*Touch.*

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I’m not sure what happened when I activated the healing spell. Her wounds started to close. It
was working. Part of me could feel her pain; feel the weak beating of her heart. I was desperate,
and I didn’t know what to do. The last thing I remember before waking up here is willing her pain
to stop, trying to join myself with her and share the burden of her suffering.

Describing where I am now is difficult. An ocean of silver light rolls beneath me, and the air
around me is full of whispered promises of everlasting peace and love. I am dimly aware of my body
lying somewhere far removed from here. There is pain. What is happening to me?

Air rushes past me as I fly. The only thought in my head is to find her. I know she is here, I
can feel it. Hermione is all around me, and yet I cannot see her. I must find her. This place can’t
keep her. She is mine.

She’s here. I can see her, moving away from me. I won’t be stopped. It doesn’t take long for me
to catch up with her. My hand reaches for hers, and she reaches back. So close! Let her go, I
think. It isn’t her time. Something is fighting me, trying to deny me. I’m not sure what it is;
only that it feels…..sad. Don’t take her, I plead. Let her live. It isn’t right that she die. I
love her. The resistance increases, and I know I will not reach her. There’s only one thing left to
do.

*Take me. Take me instead. Only let her live.*

Time slows to a crawl. I can sense a terrible *awareness,* an awesome consciousness
contemplating my thoughts. The resistance crumbles. With a final surge, I stretch out my fingers to
her.

*Touch.*

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Oh God, I hurt. It takes all my energy just to open my eyes, and the stabbing pain in my head
when I do makes me regret it. Some of the pain in my body is going away. Someone is squatting over
me, and I can see their wand making circles in the air. Whoever it is, they are wearing Order
robes. It must be a healer. Something doesn’t seem right about all of this.

Wait. Why aren’t I dead? I remember feeling….peace. I knew I was dying. Then something happened.
Harry. Harry had suddenly been with me. He had reached out his hand and then…..

“Where is Harry?” I hear myself ask. It comes out as barely a croak.

“Don’t try and talk yet dear,” a voice answers. “You nearly died. As it is, you’ll be some time
recovering from these injuries. I have done what I can to help the process along. Just lie still.”
Something about her voice is wrong. She’s hiding something. Where is Harry?

I turn my head to the side, desperate for some sign of him. There’s nothing on my left. On my
right…..oh God, no. He’s there, lying in a pool of blood. Three more healers are frantically
working on him, wands weaving an intricate dance over his body. His eyes are closed, and for one
terrible moment I think he is dead. Then I see his chest rise and fall slowly, and I start to
breathe again. How did he get so hurt?

Low voices are speaking from a short distance away. I recognize them. One is Professor
Dumbledore. The other is Remus Lupin.

“Have you ever seen anything like this?” That was Remus.

“No. What he has done….I wouldn’t have thought possible. Somehow he has taken most of her
injuries into himself. She should have died.”

“Will he live?”

“I don’t know. All we can do now is trust in our healers….and hope. I think Harry has a lot of
reasons to live – and I have never met a spirit as bright as his. He will come back if anyone
can.”

This can’t be happening. Harry….saved me? How? His face looks so peaceful. There is a small
smile on his lips. They are putting him on a makeshift gurney – now he is level with me. It hurts
to move my arm, but I do it anyway. The healer is scolding me not to move, but I don’t care. I take
his hand in mine.

“You’re going to make it through this Harry.” I smile through my tears. “No way am I going to
let you save me, take all the glory, and then die like some martyr. You hear me?” I release his
hand as they take him away. “Please come back to me,” I whisper. “There is still so much I have to
tell you…..”

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Coming next: Those Three Words I Never Said



4. Those Three Words I Never Said
---------------------------------

Author’s Note: Thanks to all the wonderful reviewers that have taken the time to give me
feedback on this story. A particular thanks to Gil – your review made my day, and convinced me that
maybe some people ARE enjoying my work.

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‘He needs me
He doesn't know it, but he needs me

So no matter where he goes

He knows that I'm here

My one ambition is
To wake him and make him discover
That he needs me
I've got to follow where he leads me
Or else he'll never know that I need him
Just as he needs me’

-Nina Simone

Part 4: Those Three Words I Never Said

Everything has gone horribly wrong. As I sit here by his bedside, all I can think is that is
should be me lying there. It should be **me!** How did he heal me? Why did he heal me? This
isn’t right! Why won’t he wake up?!

The doctors have told me that his physical injuries are completely healed – and that there is no
lasting damage. Miraculous, I heard one of them say when he thought I wasn’t close enough to hear
him. He should have died. No, *I* should have died. It had taken me a week to recover from my own
injuries. I had been released with instructions to go home and get plenty of rest.

Instead I sit here, as I have for the past four days, listening to the sound of the devices
keeping him alive. His body is fine. It’s his mind that isn’t. The finest magical doctors have
tried to bring him back from….wherever his mind has gone. And they can’t. They say he received an
enormous mental shock when he took my injuries into himself. It is why what he did is not normally
done. It’s far too risky. But he had done it. He had done it for me.

Each night is getting worse. I wonder if I am losing my mind. I’ve hardly slept; hardly ate. My
parents are worried about me. Ron is worried about me. None of them understand. How could they? The
nurses tried to chase me out after visiting hours were over the first two nights, but they know
better now. When he wakes up, I will be here. *Please* wake up Harry. I know you heard my
whispered words when I thought I was going to die. How did you feel when you heard about my
feelings for you? Were you happy? Shocked? I don’t know, and it is tearing me apart inside. You
have to wake up. I have to *know*. Don’t leave me alone. Not now.

My hand caresses his face. How many times have I wanted to do just this to him? Touch him. Hold
him. Kiss him. Look into his eyes and let him see how I feel; let my love envelop us both. I wonder
if he can hear me when I talk to him. The sound of my own voice is all that has kept me sane I
think. I’ve spoken about practically everything – small talk mostly. I am too scared to talk about
what I want to talk about with him. I, a Gryffindor, too scared to talk to an unconscious man about
my love for him. The sorting hat must have made a mistake. It should have been Ravenclaw for me. An
involuntary snort of laughter escapes my lips, and I start to wonder how far away I am from a
breakdown.

It is quiet in his room. I’m not sure how late it is; it must be after one in the morning. The
silence is broken only by the sound of his heart monitor. He looks so fragile lying motionless in
the bed. All my memories of him run together in my head, and love –horrible, hopeless love, floods
my veins until I can hardly breathe. From somewhere I didn’t even know existed, resolve stops the
tears before they come. No more small talk. The time for that is past.

My hand reaches out and takes his. He can’t see me, but I pray he can feel me. I pray with all
that I am that he can *hear* me. He has to hear me.

“I wasn’t ready for you. Everything in my life made sense. I may have been alone, but I knew who
and what I was. Smart. Ambitious. A loner. I didn’t care that all the other children disliked me;
were jealous of me. I didn’t let myself care. All that mattered was learning. Absorb everything I
could, that was my one passion – before I knew what passion really was! My little world was so in
order. Everything was in its place. I wasn’t happy, not really. But I thought I could live that
way.”

“Then you ruined everything. From the very beginning you intrigued me. For the first time, I
wanted someone to *know* me – to take the time and get to see the girl behind the mind. It
scared me. I’d been hurt before when I tried to open up to other people. With you, I didn’t care.
Around you, I didn’t feel alone; I didn’t feel different. I wanted a friend. Then you saved me from
the troll. I think I may have starting loving you, just a little, even then.”

“Sharing my life with you the past seven years, I have learned what it means to be alive. Life
is more than books, and cleverness. You showed me how to love life. For that alone, I owe you more
than I can ever repay. But you have shared more than that with me – you’ve shared **you**. Never
asking anything in return, you have been there for me when I thought no one cared. You’ve given me
the best of yourself, and you haven’t been afraid to let me see the worst. That was terrible of
you, you know that don’t you? I couldn’t help what happened. I didn’t want to stop it. It is a
funny feeling for someone like me, when your emotions tell your intellect to shove it.”

“I love you. Somehow the words don’t seem to be enough. I wish…..I wish you could feel what is
in my heart. What you have caused to live inside me. Please come back to me. Oh God, if you come
back I swear I will tell you everything. Come back Harry. Come back……”

I can’t keep the tears in anymore. You always hear how amazing love is. Why doesn’t anyone ever
tell you it can hurt so much? I’m so tired. I lay my head down on his chest. I can hear his heart
beating. His heart. Harry’s heart. Closing my eyes, I sigh. I welcome the oblivion of sleep.

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I am alone.

After being alone for so long, you’d think I would be used to the feeling. I’m not sure when it
changed; when tolerance became hate, when acceptance became despair. I only know now that I don’t
want to be alone anymore. Once you’ve experienced friendships like mine, shared a life with amazing
people like I have for the past seven years, you don’t want to return to solitude. Yet here I am,
alone in this place.

I remember touching her hand, and blinding light. Since then, I have been alone in this prison
without walls. Alone with my memories. The best have been sweet torture. The worst have made
nightmares seem pleasant. Everything seems…..clearer here. I feel like I’m stuck – I can’t leave,
can’t move forward, and yet I can’t move back either. The solitude is maddening.

Thoughts of her are all that have kept me sane. I’ve replayed how she looked at the Yule Ball a
hundred times in my head. I’ve been forced to see her lying lifeless in the ministry a hundred
times. Her smile has soothed me to sleep night after night as the silver sea grows dark, and the
memory of her petrified body has made me scream myself awake every morning. Hermione. I miss her.
She’s become so much a part of my life that with her gone there is no joy. My being here now is the
price I paid to save her life I imagine. I smile. It was more than a fair trade.

Something is different this morning. I feel like someone is here with me, but I see no one.
Suddenly, three figures fade into view. Three people that I know all too well. So, it is going to
be one of *those* mornings. Before me, Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Dudley sit gathered
around a Christmas tree. A small child, the boy I was, watches forlornly from his cupboard as
presents are opened and laughter shared.

I try and remain detached as I watch the events of ten years ago replayed before my eyes. This
is what life was. This is what life will be again. Loneliness. Exclusion.

*Love doesn’t last*, a voice whispers in my head. *It only leads to pain. The people that
love you hurt you. Learn from this. Remember what this feels like. It is all that awaits you, in
the end.*

That doesn’t seem right. There is more, I know it. I have felt it, when I held her hand. There
have been times I’ve looked into her eyes and seen my future. Love isn’t about fear and pain – for
me, it has been….completion.

A smile makes it way across my face as I recall one of my favorite memories. It is a chilly
December morning in our sixth year. I am sipping hot chocolate in the common room with her, and we
are snuggled together on one of the sofas for warmth. We aren’t talking. A wonderful peace settles
over me as she leans her head against my shoulder. All the troubles of my life seem
inconsequential. It’s just her and I, and I want the moment to last forever. I am….whole.

*Come back, Harry.*

Slender arms enfold me from behind. Warmth spreads through me. I am not alone. Somehow she is
with me, even here. Her voice echoes in the stillness.

*Come back to me, and I promise you’ll never feel alone again.*

Love may hurt, but not daring to love is death. I have learned to value life. I will not spend
one more second wasting mine. I will tell her what I should have told her long ago. Placing my
hands over hers, I close my eyes.

*I choose to live.*

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Harry Potter opened his eyes.

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Coming next: Tremble



5. Tremble
----------

Author’s Note: I’d like to thank everyone who has given me feedback on this piece. It has been
an emotional roller-coaster to write, and I am very grateful that apparently some of that emotion
is getting through to the readers. If I can make people feel Harry and Hermione’s love and
heartbreak, even just a little, I feel I have accomplished what I set out to do. I really
appreciate all the kind words. They help motivate me in ways you can’t imagine.

Part 5: Tremble

The first thing I see when I open my eyes is her. How fitting. How perfectly appropriate. The
hospital room lighting is not flattering, but right now she is the most beautiful thing I have ever
seen. How long has she been right in front of my eyes, only to be overlooked by me? I have been a
fool. Watching her now, sleeping fitfully with her head on my chest, I see everything clearly for
the first time. My life has not been about defeating the Dark Lord. My life has been about finding
this amazing woman that is here with me now, and through her, learning to love. Love. How easy it
is to say it now. How much pain could I have prevented, just by understanding my feelings sooner,
speaking sooner? We’ll never know now.

Smiling, I gently take a strand of her hair in my hand. How she hates her hair. Bushy, plain
brown-haired Hermione, I’ve heard her call herself. I love her hair. Seeing her fight a daily
battle with it never fails to bring a smile to my face. She wants so badly to be more than just the
smart girl. She thinks she is plain. If only she could see herself as I do. She is radiant. She
shines from within, and everyone that feels her warmth is drawn to it. I will spend the rest of my
life trying to make her see herself through my eyes, as she has helped me to see myself through
hers.

I’m so lost in my thoughts I don’t notice she is awake immediately. She is staring at me. Oh
God, her eyes. How many times have I stared into those eyes, wanting nothing more than to see her
looking at me like she is right now? Always before, when she noticed me staring, I have looked
away. Not this time. No more hiding. No more secrets. Let her look into me, and I’ll look back. I
can still feel her hair between my fingers. There’s something in her eyes….she is afraid. Can she
doubt, even now, how I feel? *How can she know how I feel, when I have never told her? I have to
SAY something.* Deep breath. This is Hermione. Just TALK.

“I didn’t want to need you. I learned to survive by being strong on my own. When you have
nobody, you can only rely on yourself. I had been alone so long, so long locked in that cupboard,
that I didn’t know any other way to be. I wasn’t sure how to be anyone’s friend. I was scared to
depend on anyone too much. I couldn’t afford to be weak; couldn’t afford to need anyone. There is a
part of me I keep locked away, that I don’t let anyone see. It keeps me safe. I was secure there,
inside myself.”

“I’m not sure when or how it happened. You got in. I fought hard against it, tried to keep my
pain inside. It was all I knew how to do. But you wouldn’t let me. You were always there to talk,
always there knowing just what I needed to hear – and when I didn’t need to hear anything you were
simply there for me. Every time I wanted to give up, you wouldn’t let me. Every time I thought I
couldn’t take another minute of being the **Boy Who Lived**, you reminded me I am just Harry
Potter. You SEE me, even when I can’t see myself. You accept me. You have…loved me….even though I
have been too blind and too stupid to notice. We had to almost die for me to understand. But now I
do. I understand. I didn’t want to need you. But I do.”

“I need you Hermione. Not just because you know me better than anyone else. Not just because you
keep me sane. And not just because when I am with you, I feel like I can do anything. I need you
because being apart from you hurts. I need you because when you’re with me, nothing else matters.
You make me want to be a better person. I need you Hermione….and I can’t go one more day without
making sure you know just how much. I don’t want to be SAFE anymore. I only want you.” I cup her
chin in my hand and brush away her tears. I can feel her body trembling at my touch.

“Be mine.”

She smiles. I love her smile; the one she gives to no one but me. How could I not have known how
she felt before I heard her say the words? What did I do to deserve someone like her?

“I’m yours.”

I feel my heart racing in my chest as I pull her mouth to mine. Her lips are soft, and sweet,
and yielding. I wrap my arms around her and know that I am going to hold her this tight for the
rest of my life; that until this moment I have not truly been alive.

I don’t have to say the words. I know I don’t. But I want to. She said them to me, holding back
death itself so I could know her heart. I want to say them. And now it seems so easy…..

“I love you,” I breathe into her ear. “I’m sorry it took all of this for me to finally tell you.
Forgive me?”

She pulls away, a serious look on her face. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On how good you are at showing me you’re sorry.”

And until the nurse comes in and kicks her out, I show her just how sorry I am.

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They released me almost immediately after I woke up. My body had already been healed, so there
was no reason for them to keep me there. After a few tests to make sure there was no lasting mental
damage, I was able to leave. She is coming back with me now to collect my things at school, and to
be with me when I say goodbye to the only real home I’ve ever known.

It is a serene night on the Hogwarts grounds. Term ended a few days ago. The students have all
returned to their life away from school. For the past seven years this strange, wonderful place has
been my life. The biggest part of that life is walking right here beside me, with her hand in mine.
I know I don’t deserve her; don’t deserve her loyalty, her love. Being close to me almost cost her
everything. She saved me, in all the ways a person can be saved. She never gave up on me. Smiling,
I turn to find her looking at me. I’ll never understand what she could possibly see in me.

“Hermione?”

“Yes?”

“Why me?”

“Hold me, Harry.”

She puts her arms around me. It is quiet here near the lake. The light breeze barely moves the
trees. I hold her close, feeling her heart beating against me. Her breath is soft against my neck.
I’m not sure how to describe how I feel at this moment. We fit together so well. It feels
*right* to hold her. Natural. She fills my senses until nothing else exists. I softly press my
lips to the top of her head. The clouds move slowly across the sky, and we stand holding each
other. She tilts her head up to look at me, and I know she can feel everything I am feeling
too.

“That is why, Harry.”

Her lips meet mine.

Nothing more needs to be said.

*I love you, Hermione Granger. I always will.*

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End notes: This particular idea had been kicking around in my head for at least a month. I knew
I wanted to do a first person of Harry and Hermione that really showcases their feelings for each
other. Honestly, I didn’t think I could pull it off. Even more honestly, I still am not sure I
have. I needed to get my own thoughts on the two and how I see them together down in words, and
this is the result. Thanks for reading. I may do an epilogue piece for this, but honestly I don’t
know if it needs one. Until next time!



