Aw hell, I've gone and forgetten the disclaimer again. Okay, once more... blah, blah, blah, their not mine. Blah, blah, blah their the brilliant J.K. Rowling's. Blah blah not a dime being made, just some fanciful entertainment whilst we wait for number 6. Ooo, number 6. Here come those flashbacks from 'The Prisoner'. But, I digress... on to the story.
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Together.
Ron and Hermione felt it immediately. One moment they were fending off a quartet of Death Eaters in the rapidly darkening forest surrounding Voldemort's stronghold - and then... then there was sudden warmth and brightness. Their bodies went rigid as a glow encompassed them, then blasted outward to level their four opponents.
'Ron?'
'Hermione?'
'My God Ron, it's Harry! Can't you feel it?!'
'Hi guys - glad to see you could join me!'
'Harry?'
'Hang on - I've got to concentrate for this bit...'
Whatever bond had forged the three of them - magic, friendship, love - it connected them now, as Harry used his abilities to draw upon the two people he cared for most in the world to finally face down Voldemort. He was nearby, of that they were certain. They couldn't see, so much as feel him, binding and drawing on the power that made them inseparable for so many years.
Hermione and Ron's heads began to swim as a dizzying array of emotions and memories swept through them. It was as if Harry were reliving every happy moment he had ever had with them, and they were swept up in the torrent of his memories and emotions. They could feel his strength gathering as the memories swelled, and, when they both felt as if they could contain no more happiness, they sensed Harry forcibly channel every bit of it into one tremendous blast aimed at their enemy.
Just as suddenly, they dropped to the ground as the connection was broken. Almost giddy, they faced each other.
"Did, did he really do it Hermione?" Ron's voice was soft and tremulous.
"I don't know - I, I think so," her voice trailed off as the giddiness began to subside.
"Harry!" She stood and began calling out. Ron tried to follow suit, but found he could barely stand on his injured leg.
"Ron? I can't sense him anymore. Can you?"
He furrowed his brow in concentration. "No. No, I can't..."
More frantically now, "HARRY!"
"Find him Hermione! Go! I'll bind this lot and send for help. Just find him!"
She quickly turned the ring on her hand until the emerald fleck faced up. "Show me," she commanded with a flourish of her wand, then touched it to the stone and concentrated.
Flashes... he ran through the forest... a broken trail... fog... then the brightness of the moon... a clearing... A CLEARING!
CRACK!
She apparated into the clearing, quickly surveying the scene before her. Harry was standing transfixed (ohthankGodhesalive) roughly 20 paces from the smoldering remains of what she could only assume was the former Lord Voldemort. She approached slowly, coming upon the defeated Dark Lord, confirming, in fact, that it was him. Stunned, she slowly began backing away towards Harry.
"Harry... you've, you've done it! You've actually done it!" Relief swept through her and she turned to Harry. "You've done it! You've done it!" She shouted, ecstatic, and threw her arms around Harry. In the distance she caught the glimmer of Ron's flare - they'd only been, at the most, a quarter mile away.
She was crushing him, happier than she could ever remember, before she realized something was terribly wrong.
"Harry?" She stepped back, a tentative smile still on her face, and gripped his shoulders as she stared at him.
"Harry!"
His face held no emotion. He stared unblinking - his body still, his gaze locked on the remains of Voldemort.
"Harry, it's over. We've - we've won."
Nothing.
"Oh no... oh no, no, no. HARRY!" She shook him, tears streaming from her eyes. "You can't do this Harry! It's OVER! You DEFEATED HIM! WE NEVER HAVE TO BE AFRAID AGAIN.... HARRY PLEASE!"
She continued to shake him frantically, as panic consumed her.
"Harry! Harry please... don't do this! We've made it through! I can't lose you now, please!" She was near hysterics, trying to think of something, anything...
These last few years she had waited, convinced there would be time, after they had defeated Voldemort. A time and a place where she could finally tell him how much she loved him. She had come close so many times, but held back, her logic always winning out. She couldn't do that to him. Even if he loved her back, she would be a distraction during this perilous time of uncertainty. She could get him killed. And the worst case, if he didn't love her, then she would have caused irreparable damage to their friendship, possibly separating them, and that meant she couldn't stand with him when the time came for the final fight. If nothing else, she couldn't bear not to be with him in his hour of greatest need. She kept a tight rein on her emotions the past few years, letting it slip in moments of weakness - a stray touch whenever she could, a soft look when he wouldn't notice. It was all she ever allowed herself, until the time was right, and now...
"This can't have been for nothing... please!"
Too many years of quelling her emotions. Too many years of channeling all that love into friendship - fighting beside him, cheering him on, searching every last tome ever written to conjure spells and charms that would keep him safe. Whatever it would take to get him here, to this point in time, where they'd finally, finally be safe.
She clutched him tightly, then let out an anguished sob.
"NO!"
She felt her hope slipping away as she held him, while the last rational part of her resolve cried out to her. She did her best to calm herself and let her analytical side take over. It had rarely failed her - she hoped it still held the ability to pull her through.
She released Harry, then placed both hands determinedly on either side of his face.
"Listen to me Harry! Please! You cannot do this! You cannot leave me like this! There's so much I've left to tell you, so many things we're still meant to do."
No response.
"Please," she pleaded, her sobs threatening to engulf her again. "Harry, I've meant to tell you. So many times I wanted to tell you. I'm in love with you Harry! I have been for ages - so YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME NOW!!!" She clutched his robes, shaking him. "DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE ME!"
His gaze remained fixed.
Losing all hope, Hermione gently placed her hands on his face one last time.
"Please Harry," she whispered. "I love you," she kissed him. "I love you," she kissed him again. "Please..." She held his face and kissed him again as her expression set into a painful grimace. "I love you Harry...," and then she clutched him and dissolved into tears.
She failed to notice the tears that were pouring freely from Harry's unblinking stare. She continued to hold him and cry, not realizing that the shuddering of her body was now joined by his. Almost an entire minute had passed before she recognized that the loud and anguished sobs she heard weren't hers, but his.
Softly, with unimaginable hope, she spoke his name.
"...Harry?"
He cried out with a tortured scream that nearly made her jump out of her skin. He pushed her out of the way as he stalked towards Voldemort's remains, releasing screams of anguish and rage that shattered her soul. He aimed his wand and continued screaming, each time shooting forth violent currents of energy that laid the ground to waste.
Hermione sat, stunned. Her hands clutched over her mouth as she watched him vent all his years of anger, his rage, his pain for the loss of his parents, Sirius, Cedric and everyone else who had ever suffered at the hands or minions of Voldemort. He continued to rage. She was certain at one point he had even dropped his wand and the powerful waves of destructive magic were emanating directly from him. It took her a moment to realize the pain she was feeling was caused by her heart breaking for him over and over again.
Finally he began to subside, his energy spent, as he fell to his knees and cried as she had never seen him before. Gone was the terrifying wizard of moments ago, and, as she approached him and cradled him in her arms, she realized who this was. Sobbing as she gently held him wasn't the Boy Who Lived or the Boy Who Finally Defeated You-Know-Who, but the Boy Who Lived in the Cupboard Under the Stairs.
She held onto him, fiercely protective, yet crying freely with him. They sat beside the smoldering crater of earth, for how long she couldn't say, until they heard the approach of others towards the clearing. She looked around, trying to gauge how much time they had until they were discovered. Gently lifting Harry up, she whispered an incantation and soft blue light bathed his face.
"I'll not let them see you like this Harry. Ever."
He looked at her, his expression somewhat vacant, but she could tell he was still with her. His face suddenly felt cool as all traces of his outburst vanished.
Hermione glanced once more over her shoulder, readying herself to let him go and share him with the world once more. The familiar ache of years seized her chest once more as she hugged him tightly, then released him and called out to their approaching allies.
"We're over here!"
***
Everything after that moment became a rapid blur.
There were shouts of joy and surprise. Years of living under the terrible threat of Voldemort were finally over and everyone rushed to congratulate the hero of the hour. However, the celebration was short lived as the Trio and many others were rushed to St. Mungo's to be thoroughly checked over.
Apparently they were all in worse shape than anyone originally thought. They had spent the last few hours impelled completely on adrenaline, which helped to mask the true fatigue and evidence of damage they'd sustained.
Quite against their will they were given sleeping draughts that would compel them to rest and heal. Hermione dimly recalled Ron joking with a frantic Luna, who sat beside his bed with a bandaged arm as she gently stroked his forehead. A small flare of jealousy rose up in her, caused by the momentary envy of what they had and what she feared she never would. Before she finally lost consciousness she searched the room for Harry's bed, but realized that one of the healers had already drawn privacy curtains around him.
She willed herself to give into the draught, safe in the knowledge that all of her friends had survived, that those she cared most about were nearby.
'It's over... it's finally over...,' she thought as she closed her eyes.
A momentary frown came over Hermione's face as she drifted off to sleep.
'Yes dear, it's finally over...'
***
When she awoke, the first thing that hit her was an unassailable thirst. She tried to sit up, then stopped abruptly as a fierce pounding in her head assaulted her. She tried to call out for someone, but the best she could manage was a weak croak, followed by a series of dry coughs. Immediately a healer appeared at her bedside, and helped her roll onto her side as she offered her a sip through a straw. Hermione drank tentatively, then tried her best to thank the nurse while she struggled into a sitting position.
"Hold on dear, I'll go fetch the senior Healer."
She watched the nurse stroll from the room before she noticed her surroundings. The beds that her friends had all occupied were empty now, neatly dressed and devoid of life. She turned her head to look where Harry's bed had been, but that was vacant too. On her bedside table were a myriad number of cards and flowers from a variety of well wishers, but they did nothing to quell her growing anxiety.
The nurse strolled back in with the senior Healer, an older wizard with a well lined and caring face. "Well Miss Granger, it's good to see you're back among the living. How are you feeling?"
She couldn't tell if the tightness in her chest was an injury, or part of her anxiousness.
"How..." She coughed again, but managed to keep it from turning into a hacking fit. "How long have I been...?"
"Oh, only about a week or so dear." He noticed the shocked expression on her face. "Not to worry, you simply needed undisturbed rest. It seems the, um, well..., the monumental battle you took part in exacerbated some previous injuries you sustained."
That explained why her chest ached. It seemed like Dolohov's unsuccessful hex was destined to follow her about like a footballer's trick knee the rest of her life.
"But not to worry. After thoroughly checking you over, we decided it best that we induce coma, to allow you to heal properly. It seems you, along with your friends, seem to have a habit of getting into nasty scrapes. Let's hope this is the last."
"My friends... are they...?"
"Oh, they're all fine. Most of them left three days ago. Some," he glanced over at Harry's bed, "against my best advice. But they're all fine now, I assure you."
"When may I leave?"
"We've already contacted your parents. They'll be by shortly to collect you. The draught we gave you would only allow you to wake once you were fully healed, so, we'll give you another quick once over, but after that, you're free to leave. However, I think it best you take it easy for awhile yet. The last thing you'd want to do is aggravate your injuries."
"Thank you."
The nurse did a cursory exam of Hermione while she tried to absorb the fact she'd been asleep for the better part of June.
'I wonder where Harry and Ron are?'
'No, you wonder why they aren't here.'
That voice she'd heard before falling asleep rose up in her again. She frowned, wondering where it had come from. When the nurse was done with her examination, Hermione cleaned herself up in the lavatory, got dressed, then began to collect her cards and flowers. As she sat on the bed waiting for her parents, she began reading through the assortment.
Some were sweet, like the one from a group of Gryffindor first years she had managed to direct out of harm's way just before the battle had begun in earnest. Others were short and cursory words of thanks from Ministry officials, including various job offers. She remembered she was due to start her first year of Spellcrafting Academy in the fall, regardless of how enticing the offers were.
Oddly there was nothing from Ron or Harry. She imagined Ron must be basking in the limelight of celebrity - no doubt enjoying every minute of hero worship. And Harry? Well, Ron probably dragged him along too... but wherever they were, the weren't here.
And so she sat on her bed, waiting for her parents to arrive.
Alone.
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A/N - Well, after my first foray into fanfic, I decided to give this a whirl. It's one I've been working on for awhile, and, hopefully, posting the first few chaps that are actually done will compel me to finish the ding dang thing. And for those of you who caught it, that nifty ring that Hermione uses to find Harry has a story all it's own. It'll be thoroughly explained later on, promise.
Hope you like it.