A Swan Song
By Harrynhermione4eva
A/N: Wow, when I started writing this story, I never imagined I'd generate as many readers and reviewers as I have. Thank you so much to anyone who has reviewed my story. I'm glad you like it. I hope you like chapter 2 just as much.
Disclaimer: I think I forgot this on chapter one, but let this disclaimer cover Ch 1 and 2: I don't own Harry Potter. JKR is the creator, and I just like using her characters.
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To most people, Hermione Granger only seemed like she was studying hard for her NEWTS. She would lock herself up in her room, or confine any free time she had in the library. What the others didn't see were the stray tears that fell down her cheek every once in a while. She had become rather good at hiding her face so no one could see the proof of her distress. Once when they were studying together, Ron put Hermione's book down from her face to uncover her red-puffy eyes that were streaming tears. When he inquired about the tears, she just brushed it off and said she had allergies. Ron went back to his book with an unconvincing look on his face, and Harry knew they both knew her better.
He had seen her face at the funeral: and event that made the last month finally seem real. It broke his heart to see her standing next to her mother's casket like a little girl after waking up from a nightmare, running to her sleeping mother and figuring how to wake her so her mother could comfort her and tell her the nightmare wasn't real so she could go back to sleep. Hermione stood at her father's casket and held his hand as if any moment his lips would curl into a smile and he would wake up and pull her into his arms; kiss her forehead and again say, "I'm so proud of you dear."
Harry had similar dreams of his parents in the past and he wondered if they had ever been true. Sometimes Harry would see his mother smile as she cleaned the dishes. She would sing to herself, not thinking anyone would hear her. Harry would crawl in and sit in the middle of the floor, watching her as she danced around herself. He loved the sound of her voice. She had the most elegant voice in the world that would make any veela turn read with jealousy.. It floated through the house like fresh honey in the spring that would be made from only the best flowers in their prime. She would see Harry crawling on the floor and laugh as she picked him up and spoke to him with a loving voice only a mother could for her child.
"Were you listening to my singing again, Harry?" she laughed as she tickled his tummy, making him giggle like any other happy baby would. Her eyes were alit with so much love every time he saw his father apparate from wherever he'd been. After giving his wife a kiss, James would pick Harry up and spin him around until little Harry was laughing so hard he began to hiccup.
"There's the little devil and future Marauder of Hogwarts," Sirius said as he walked through the doorway with a mischievous smile on his face. He gave Lily a friendly kiss on the cheek and James a friendly slap on the back and turned himself into the shaggy black dog they all knew too well.
"Snuffles!" Harry beamed as he reached for the dog on the ground, making his father laugh with a hearty richness that always made Harry smile in his sleep.
"Will you listen to that, Sirius?" James chuckled, "He's made the toughest man to graduate Hogwarts sound like a fluffy teddy bear." Lily put Harry down on the ground and the dog moved over to him, nuzzling his hand affectionately. His father's laughter echoed in his mind when Harry awoke with a startle, breathing heavily as one final sound entered his brain before he awoke.
His mother's plea for mercy.
Her anguished cries would never be something he could get used to, just like watching Cedric or Sirius die and he didn't want to go back to sleep, knowing what was coming next. If he fell asleep, he would hear his father's rich laughter turn into frantic yelling for Lily to take Harry to safety and his mother's melodious voice would forever echo in his mind as desperate cries to spare his life.
Harry ran blindly out of his room and headed to the bathroom he shared with Hermione, for a comforting glass of water that might wash away the aftertaste of the cries and screaming of the dream.
The water on his face did little to ease his aching heart, but did comfort the pounding headache that seemed to originate in his scar. Harry filled a glass with water and desperately gulped it down in an attempt to rinse away the taste of bile that had crept up his throat. He reached for a towel and dried his face, looking at himself in the mirror.
He sighed
Despite the fact that he was only 17 years old, he felt as though he were forty. All the pain and responsibilities, even at such a young age, made Harry look older than he really was. His eyes carried the wisdom of a man who lived a thousand years and Harry was surprised his hair hadn't turned grey already.
As Harry turned off the sink and spun around to leave the bathroom, another voice popped up in his head.
"It's not your fault, Harry."
Harry still didn't know how Hermione could say that. He was the reason she almost got killed their fifth year in the department of mysteries when he took Voldemort's bloody bait and went off to "save the day". He was the reason her parents were dead.
"Oh!" a soft voice came from behind him as Hermione realised he could see her crying. Her form was sort of fuzzy since he didn't have his glasses on, but it was unmistakably Hermione. Who else could it be?
From what he could make out, she was sitting on the couch in their common room, eyes all puffy from crying which wasn't an uncommon thing these days. She was in a modest night-gown that covered her knees and looked like a little girl getting ready to go to bed. Next to her state of dress, Harry felt almost naked. All he had on, due to the sweltering heat, was an old pair of boxer shorts that had once been Dudley's. Of course, Harry wasn't as skinny as he used to be, and he had more of a muscular build now, but somehow the boxers were still a little big for him.
"What are you doing up?" He asked her.
"I couldn't sleep."
"Are you all right?" He moved to sit next to her on the couch. She sighed and sunk deeper into the velvet cushions. He knew she wasn't really all right, and knew exactly what had been haunting her dreams for the past month. A foreign thought sprung up in his head; despite her grief, she still looked beautiful.
She sighed again. "Harry, what do you think about life?"
Now he was confused. "What do you mean?" For a third time, Hermione sighed.
"Do you ever wonder why you didn't die instead of living all those times you've met Voldemort, or what your parents would be like if you had been born a year later and the prophecy didn't pertain to you? Do you ever wonder what they may be thinking now if they were alive?" Harry couldn't really see without his glasses, but he was almost certain he saw a glint from her cheek; the light from the fire momentarily catching that tear in a spectacular prism before it rolled out of sight.
He didn't really know what to say. "I suppose so...I mean...I think about my parents all the time. I wonder what my mum would look like now, or how she might have comforted me when I was little after scraping my knee or banging my head or something. I'm sure I did that a lot." Hermione laughed a little and Harry smiled as memories that could only be dreams flew through his mind.
"I wonder if my dad would have taught me how to play quidditch before I came to Hogwarts, or if he would tell me stories of his Marauder days at Hogwarts." Harry could feel tears begin to sting his eyes as a fresh pain stabbed at his heart. "I wonder if my mum used to kiss my dad everytime he came home, or if she would sing as she did the dishes." It was hard for him to continue with these thoughts and memories so fresh in his mind, and his mother's screams still ringing in his head.
"Sometimes I get so tired of it all-Voldemort, the prophecy, death-that I wonder: maybe the world would be better off without me, but then..." Harry was choking on sobs now, "...but then, I remember all those who died, or almost died trying to keep me alive, a-and I know I c-can't let them down. They d-died trying to save me a-and I can't just throw that away. I c-could never look at t-their faces when I meet t-them in death. I would be throwing away t-the only thing I have to l-live for: a-avenging their deaths and seeing V-Voldemort fall and suffer...s-suffer for all the horrible t-things he has done to me and so many p-people. I...I stay alive to try protect the p-people I love that are s-still here: Ron, the Weasleys, the Order....y-you..."
Harry fell forward and buried his face in the crook of Hermione's neck and just wept. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you, Hermione," he whispered and Hermione hugged him close, joining in with his tears and they cried like two people who had lost everything in the world.
"Oh, Harry," Hermione cried, "I-I can't do it anymore, not without my parents."
Harry was confused. "What do you mean?" He asked her sharply, his tears stopping suddenly in fear of what her words were implying. He could see it was hard for Hermione to admit what she wanted to say because she kept taking deep breaths as if she was going to say it, but then some rational thought would cut her off from saying it.
"I...I don't know...If I can...well, deal with everything anymore...without my parents there for me." Even though Harry knew what she was saying, the vague look on his face (partially from shock that Hermione would even fathom the thoughts) told her that she needed to be a little more specific. "I mean, I can never go home to them to tell them about a good test, or to tell them about how you and Ron won the Quidditch Cup, or tell them how excited I am to graduate...They won't be there to see me graduate, or walk me down the aisle when I get married, or...or h-hold my first child when they become grandparents...I just...I just...can't live anymore knowing my future is so different without them."
Harry looked deeply into Hermione's eyes and they were no longer teary. Her eyes had changed from their usual sparkling chestnut colour, to an empty greyish-brown that almost scared him. He had never seen someone with a more pained look in their eyes than he saw in Hermione's, and her words finally sank in...
"No!" he yelled gruffly at her, grabbing her shoulders and making her look him directly in the eye. "You have no clue what a waste it would be if you even tried, Hermione, so don't you dare."
"But I..."
"No, don't even say that," he interrupted. "You have so many people who love you-I love you, damnit!" he growled in such a low voice it made her tremble, before he pressed his lips to hers roughly.
Harry was afraid Hermione might slap him any moment and then run to her room in tears, but she didn't. The shock quickly passed through her system and she slid her delicate hands around his neck, pulling him closer to her. She kissed him back with an urgency neither of them knew she possessed and slowly she let him deepen the kiss. The first contact of his tongue against hers sent shivers racing through his entire body, mixing with the wonderful tender touches he was receiving.
Hermione moved so that she sat comfortably in his lap, and he held her in place by resting his hands on her hips, occasionally rubbing her back with small ministrations that elicited delicious moans from her.
"I could never live without you..." he whispered as he kissed and suckled along her milky throat, "or Ron. I would die before I let anything happen to either of you."
"Harry, please," she pleaded as she brought his lips to meet hers again, "Don't say that."
He kissed her face again and again and whispered three words that he had uttered millions of times, but seemed more platonic then. Hermione knew for sure this time the words went way beyond any platonic friendship, and she was happy for that.
"Harry," he kissed her nose and looked at her , suddenly making her feel nervous as If she were the one only wearing boxers. She had a sudden impulse to feel his bare skin against her own. "I love you too."
Hermione stood up and reached for his hands, pulling Harry to his feet and leading him toward his bedroom with a sultry smile playing on her lips. That look erased any signs of earlier pains. Harry finally caught on to what she was implying and almost died of fear. He knew she was a virgin, and so was he-Ron hadn't been so innocent-and he was suddenly afraid of what this might do to their friendship.
As if sensing his fear, Hermione silenced his unasked question with a kiss. "I know what you're thinking and I thought about that too, but I love you too much to say no." She kissed him again. "Please, Harry, I need you. I need you, because I love you."
No more words were said as Harry helped Hermione pull her night-gown over her head as he pulled her bare chest against his own and buried his lips in her neck, letting the scent of her hair surround him as a reminder that he had everything to live for. Hermione tugged at his hair and he kissed her deeply, letting every thought and feeling for her pour into her mouth. She pulled him backwards so they fell onto the bed and her velvety hair tumbled around them, framing their faces together.
He kissed her neck as she fumbled to pull his boxers down so he could kick them off before he pulled her knickers off, leaving them both naked and glowing with a passion that was so far beyond desire.
They explored new territories that had been until now uncharted, and when they were both ready, he slid into her, and it was almost perfect. A few tears fell from Hermione's eyes as he broke through her wall, but the pain was soon erased by a much stronger feeling: pleasure.
"Oh, god, I love you so much," Harry groaned into her ear as he waited for her to adjust to him. When she kissed his parted lips tenderly, he took it as a sign that she was all right and he began a slow rocking pace, dragging out slowly and then pushing back in, impossibly deep as he let his lips roam along her soft throat. No coherent words could be formed in Hermione's brain (a definite first) as she let emotions she never knew existed, fill her body and leave her with one word to describe it: completely blissful pleasure. Okay, so maybe three words.
Harry could feel a sensation growing rapidly now in the pit of his stomach as his thrusts became more frantic, producing throaty moans from Hermione. Harry looked up to meet her eyes, and that was his undoing as the world came crashing down around him. Before he could lose all muscle control, Hermione pulled his lips to hers and forced him to kiss her as he came. Halfway through, he felt her fall too and she pulled away from the kiss, letting her back arch off the bed as her head rolled back and a pleasurable sound escaped her lips. Now it was perfect.
Afterwards they climbed under the covers and Hermione rolled o top of him, sending little shockwaves through his already tingling body.
"I love you so much, Harry," she whispered from the crook of his neck and moved to brush aside his bangs, uncovering the scar he liked to keep hidden from the world. Harry brushed his bangs back to cover it.
"Please, don't remind me," he said (sadly), beginning to see Sirius as he stopped falling for that instant, but was then sucked into the veil.
Hermione brushed them back to the side and kissed his forehead like a mother would. "You don't need to keep secrets from me, Harry. You know you can be yourself around me and not have to worry how I care. You can tell me anything," she said with a yawn that brought out the little girl he saw in her earlier that night.
"I know," he said, kissing her forehead as she drifted peacefully off to sleep. "I know," he almost whispered to no one, but he couldn't ignore the dull ache he felt in his forehead that was Solway getting worse. He put the pain aside and fell asleep to match Hermione's rhythmic pattern of breathing, with no clue of what fate had in store for him.
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Okay. This chapter was more to show Harry's feelings about his parents and his deep feelings for Hermione, plus it sets up chapter three perfectly. I'm almost done writing chapter three, but bear with me. I have 3/4 AP classes this semester, and my fourth class (since we go on a block schedule) is honour band/choir so I'm going to be really busy this year. Don't worry, though. It'll come.:D Thanks for reading and please drop a review. Your reviews for my first chapter were AWESOME!:D Thanks.
Harrynhermione4eva
PS The line where Hermione said: I need you. I need you, because I love you, is not mine. That comes from some French guy that I can't remember.
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