Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Author's Note: See, I told you this wasn't over…
For the ever-so-brilliant Libbie, aka QuidditchMom, with thanks for all the wonderful writing, the inspiration, and the encouraging and flattering reviews. Happy birthday, again.
No Greater Love
Chapter 2: The Truth
"Nooooooooooo!!"
Harry jerked awake from troubled sleep at his cry, his heart beating rapidly as if he'd just run a marathon, his face still wet with tears and his chest heaving from the sobs. He had twisted his blanket nearly into shreds from the force of his grip.
Forcibly, he tried to calm himself, relax his fists. It had only been a dream. Just a dream, a nightmare…
He shuddered convulsively. It had been so real. He could smell the brimstone from all the curses, hear the shouts, feel the despair knifing through him…
And Hermione… He suppressed another shudder and a half-sob at the very thought of what had happened to her, what she'd done for him…
He glanced at the clock by his bed where the time read, "Time for every sane person to be sleeping" and grimaced, the odd quirky sarcasm of the Wizarding clock he usually enjoyed irritating him now.
He wiped the remaining tears from his face, grabbing his glasses and putting them on with fingers that still trembled a little. He didn't care what time it was or that he, of all people, shouldn't wander around the castle at night. He needed to see Hermione, make sure that she was all right. Needed to reassure the part of his soul that was still cold with horror and grief, that it really had only been a nightmare…
Never had he been so grateful that Hermione had told him the password to her room, just in case, she'd said, if he ever needed anything. He hadn't used it before, had felt uncomfortable about doing so, but tonight, any qualms were easily drowned out by the depth of his fear, the intensity of his need for reassurance.
He entered her room quietly, trying not to make a sound, slipping off his Invisibility Cloak once inside the room. He moved silently across her room to her bed until he could see her.
She had fallen asleep while studying, as she usually did. The Last, Best Line of Defense: An Index to Defensive Spells was lying open on the bed, by her hand. She was lying on her side, one hand tucked under her pillow, a slight frown of concentration on her face even in sleep.
But her breathing was deep and regular, her blankets rising and falling with reassuring steadiness.
The sight and the sound of Hermione, sleeping soundly, sent a wave of relief coursing through him, so strong he felt his knees weaken and he sat down heavily in the chair beside her bed.
He'd known it was only a nightmare but it had been so vivid, so real, it had taken the sight of Hermione alive and well to fully dispel the hard knot of fear in his belly.
Even now his heart was still pounding from reaction to the nightmare, his mind haunted by visions of Hermione lying so pale and still on the ground.
Harry sighed softly, trying to relax back into the chair. He didn't think there was much chance of him getting more sleep that night and for now, he wanted to watch Hermione sleep, the rhythm of her even breathing like music to his ears.
He felt a surge of gratitude that it really had only been a dream; his Hermione was alive… Gratitude and protectiveness. He couldn't let anything happen to Hermione… He knew, now, just how much he needed her, how empty he would feel without her. Knew, with a certainty that not even his terrified reaction to her lying unconscious in the Department of Mysteries in 5th year had given him. It had taken this nightmare to fully impress on him that Hermione was now the person he would miss the most, was the person he needed more than anyone else. Because he loved her…
He loved her… with a depth and intensity he'd never imagined he could feel for anyone… He loved her and he was suddenly immeasurably thankful for the nightmare that had made him aware of the truth of his feelings for her. Thankful that he knew and thankful that he would now be able to tell her.
Maybe he couldn't guarantee her safety, much as every instinct in him rebelled at the mere idea of Hermione in danger, but he could at least make sure that whatever happened, Hermione knew he loved her…
No matter what happened, a repetition of tonight's dream would not happen. If anything happened to Hermione, and his heart clenched at the very thought of it, she would go knowing he loved her…
As much as he knew she loved him… She'd never said it in so many words but he knew she did, knew she would give her life for him without a second's thought. It was there in everything she did: the way she smiled at him, the way she worried about him, the way she tried in so many ways, both small and large, to comfort him when he was troubled.
He didn't know how long it had been when he opened his eyes, surprised to find that he must have dozed off after all. The sun had risen and rays of sunlight were creeping across the floor of Hermione's room, gradually illuminating Hermione's still sleeping face.
A slight frown gathered her brows together as she moved one hand restlessly as if to block the light. Then slowly, her eyes opened and she moved to sit up.
"Harry! What are you doing here?" she started, finally seeing him. Just as quickly, a shadow darkened her eyes. "Is something wrong?" She studied his face in the revealing morning light, frowning at the dark circles under his eyes. He looked as if he hadn't slept much at all but more than that, there was a bleakness lingering in his eyes, as if he'd seen or experienced hell, and the sight made her grow cold with apprehension.
"I had a nightmare," Harry began, unsure how to tell Hermione what had happened in his dream. "It- you- I mean…" He broke off, looking uncertain of himself.
"What happened in the nightmare, Harry?" Hermione's voice was gentle, even as she straightened up and her gaze sharpened.
"I- you died," Harry said, just above a whisper, a pained expression crossing his face as he studied the Hogwarts crest on the blanket as if he expected the House animals to suddenly begin moving.
Hermione sucked in a sharp breath. "I… see…" she breathed unsteadily.
Harry looked up then and met her eyes, his gaze intense. His voice was low, tense. "No, you don't. Hermione, you died to save me… You- you pushed me out of the way of Voldemort's Avada Kedavra. I- I felt like I'd died too." The last sentence was spoken so softly Hermione could barely hear it.
"Oh Harry…" she breathed, compassion and understanding in her voice.
"Hermione, I- would you really do that for me?" He asked the question as if against his better judgment, a note of vulnerability in his tone.
It was, she thought with a surprising sense of calm, not a question one normally asked anyone or even thought of asking. Nor was it something one normally had thought about to be able to answer it.
But then, there never had been anything normal about Harry.
And so she didn't hesitate. She didn't have to think; she knew. "Yes, in a heartbeat." Her voice was quiet but there was conviction in it nevertheless.
Harry blinked back sudden tears, annoyed at his emotionalism but unable to help it. "I don't know what to say," he managed lamely. "Just 'thank you' doesn't seem like enough," he said, with an attempt at lightness that failed rather dismally.
"You don't have to say anything. Just-" Hermione stopped then began again. "Just remember…"
"How could I forget?" Harry's voice was quiet.
He was silent for a moment, his fingers fiddling with the edges of the blanket, before he looked up at Hermione, reaching over to take her hand. "There's something else I need to tell you. The nightmare- what made it even worse was thinking that I'd never said, never told you…" He paused, seemed to take a breath before continuing, "I love you, Hermione. I- I didn't even realize how much until I thought you were gone and I hadn't told you. I love you," he repeated softly.
Tears were glistening in her eyes as she looked at him. "Somehow, deep inside, I think I knew… Even when I thought I'd never hear you say it, part of me knew…" She shook her head slightly, trying to smile. "I guess that sounds silly."
"No, it doesn't. I needed you to know."
Another silence fell as Harry moved his thumb over her hand in an idle caress, feeling a sense of calm settle over him.
"Harry?" Hermione's voice was tentative as she remembered something else Harry had said. "You said it was Voldemort's Avada Kedavra. What happened to him?"
Harry's hand tightened a little convulsively. "I killed him," he said bleakly. "I've never felt that way- so angry and sad and, well, murderous. I used the Energy Draining Curse and then I- I strangled him. My touch burned him again; you gave me a new protection- not my mother's that Voldemort has…" He spoke jerkily, not looking at her, until Hermione suddenly stiffened, sucking in a sharp breath.
"Protection- burning- Harry, you're brilliant!" Her voice was suddenly excited, sure, and he looked at her sharply.
"What is it?"
"The protection that love gives you- it hurts Voldemort and it's his weakness; it always has been." Hermione went on, more to herself than to him, before kissing him quickly, exultantly, on the lips, as she continued. "Giving your life for someone you love gives them a protection, in their blood… how to do that, a spell maybe…"
Suddenly Hermione was all action, throwing her school robes on over her pajamas. "I'm sorry, Harry, I need to go talk to Professor McGonagall and maybe Professor Flitwick; he might be able to help."
Harry felt a real smile on his face for the first time in a while, seeing Hermione in full bookworm mode. This was the side of her he'd gotten to know first, the one he knew best perhaps.
She bent to kiss him again, quickly, on the lips, the gesture now almost habit between them whenever they were alone since that moment when she'd first kissed him and he'd realized the depth of her feelings for him. The kisses were never much more than pecks but they had become something of a reassuring symbol of comfort, of friendship, even as the line between friendship and something more than that was being blurred.
This time, though, his hands came up to frame her face, his lips lingering on hers as the kiss deepened. He felt her stiffen slightly in surprise before she relaxed into him.
The kiss ended slowly and they parted just enough to look at each other. Hermione's face was flushed and he thought he'd never seen anything more beautiful.
They didn't speak; in that moment no words were necessary.
She smiled, kissed him again, and left her room with a last backward glance and smile at him, and he knew that she'd thought, as surely as if she'd said the words aloud, I love you too.