My Harry

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and any of the characters mentioned hereafter. They belong to the incredible JK Rowling. I am not making a single cent out of this. I wish I did, and was.

[A/N: This piece was inspired after watching My Girl again. Since I was miserable when *he* died, and since misery loves company…

This is quite short, but I'm very satisfied with how it came out. It would be nice to get reviewed, and I really hope you find this angsty. Though I would hate for this to happen, I do enjoy the occasional tug at the heart… *smiles warmly* ]

My Harry

Hermione sat on the near the lake, her shoes barely touching the water. It was cold tonight, and she tightened her grip on her sweater. The moon was out, but was covered by dense clouds. She inhaled sharply, and she heard his voice once more.

`When all this is over, Hermione, I'm going to buy my own house.'

He told her that, one night very similar to this, not too long ago. They were both sitting in this very same spot.

His own house. He certainly deserved it. And maybe a nice new broom. She had told him that that night. He chuckled.

`My Firebolt is working perfectly fine… and I'm going to become an Auror, too.'

`It'll be hard work, Harry, but if anyone can do it, you can. You just have to put-'

`My mind to it, I know.'

A week. It hasn't even been a week since they talked. God, she missed him. She remembered how he had continued after a moment's silence.

`You don't have to go with me, you know… I don't want you to… get hurt. You can't get hurt…'

She had protested, of course. And as a result, she had seen the smile on his face, and the fear in his eyes.

`But it's between him and me, Hermione. Even Ron knows that.'

`Ron! You can't compare me to Ron, Harry. He doesn't love you like… '

She never got the chance to finish her sentence, for Harry had leaned in and pressed his lips unto hers. Their first kiss. Their last kiss.

Not to long after that did the nightmare begin. Harry had sought Voldemort out; he had had enough. Everyone had come for the Final Battle: Harry, Ron, Luna, Ginny, the Order, and herself, among others. In the end, Harry and the Dark Lord had been the only ones left standing…

The wind was howling, and Hermione covered her head with the sweater's hood. And all of a sudden, tears of pain, frustration, and anger escaped her light brown eyes as she remembered how her best friend and the man she loved died, ridding the world of Lord Voldemort.

`Harry! No! Harry, please wake up!' she said, trying to run to his side, but Ron was not letting go.

`Hermione - stop. You can't do anything…'

`Ron, let go, NOW!'

`He's gone, Hermione'

`No, you shut up! He still needs to buy a house, Ron, and become an Auro! Right, Harry? Tell him, Harry! Make Ron let go of me,' she said, sliding to the floor, tears running down her bruised cheeks. Ron finally let her go, and she immediately crawled to his lifeless body, hoping against hope he had only passed out.

But when her shaking hand touched his cheek, his skin was cold.

`… Harry,' she whimpered. `Don't be like this…'

She shook him gently.

`Wake up, Harry,' she said weakly. `You're not dead… you can't die… I love you, Harry.'

`I love you, Harry…' she repeated quietly into space.

Hermione let the tears fall. She couldn't be bothered to wipe them away. Why should she? She had lost Harry. Her Harry.

He didn't deserve this fate. He deserved to be happy… with her.

She took a small piece of parchment from her jeans pocket, and kissed it. She then stood up, and walked slowly towards the lake, making her shoes fill with ice cold water.

Hermione took one last look at the parchment, then carefully laid it on the water's surface, and watched it float away from her.

For a moment, she stood still.

`I love you, Harry,' she said again. Then, finally, she turned around and left for the castle.

Floating gracefully on the surface of the Lake, the parchment read:

Dear Harry,

As this unwelcomed and unfamiliar emptiness fills my heart and soul, I have convinced myself the only way I could make myself feel a little better was to write to you, knowing full well you may not even receive this… wherever you are.

I love you. Know that I will never love another man as much as I love you.

Thank you for supporting me, and being my best friend. I love you. I cannot tell you how wounded I feel that you were taken from me unfairly. There is a chance that I will get over you, but right now I cannot see it happening. I love you.

You're a great wizard, Harry. You really are. So much better than me… Books, and cleverness? There are more important things… like friendship, and bravery, and…. and love, Harry. Love.

I love you. I can never say it enough, because it will never be enough…

I love you, my Harry.

Find this, and keep it. Please.

Love,

Hermione

As Hermione sadly walked back to the castle, she suddenly felt the urge to look back at her letter. She did. A cold breeze swept across the grounds. What Hermione saw made her smile painfully. Her letter…

… wasn't there.

---- the end…

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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and any of the characters mentioned hereafter. They belong to the incredible JK Rowling. I am not making a single cent out of this. I wish I did, and was.

[A/N: This piece was inspired after watching My Girl again. Since I was miserable when *he* died, and since misery loves company…

This is quite short, but I'm very satisfied with how it came out. It would be nice to get reviewed, and I really hope you find this angsty. Though I would hate for this to happen, I do enjoy the occasional tug at the heart… *smiles warmly*

A/N 2: I realized I did a lousy job at proof-reading the story. Since I am lazy, and I can't be bothered to fix the mistake, I've uploaded version 2 of My Harry, which I think deals with the mistake. I also made a few adjustments/additions. They're not much, probably not even noticeable.]

My Harry

Hermione sat near the edge of the lake, her shoes barely touching the water. It was cold tonight, and she tightened her grip on her sweater. The moon was out, but was covered by dense clouds. She inhaled sharply, as she heard his voice once more.

`When all this is over, Hermione, I'm going to buy my own house.'

He had told her that, one night very similar to this, not too long ago. They were both sitting on this very same spot.

His own house. He certainly deserved it. And maybe a nice new broom, too. She had told him that that night. He chuckled.

`My Firebolt is working perfectly fine…anyway, I plan to become an Auror, too.'

`It'll be hard work, Harry, but if anyone can do it, you can. You just have to put-'

`My mind to it, I know.'

A week. It hasn't even been a week since they talked. God, she missed him. She remembered how he had continued after a moment's silence.

`You don't have to go with me, you know… I don't want you to… get hurt. You can't get hurt…'

She had protested, of course. And as a result, she had seen the smile on his face, and the fear in his eyes.

`But it's between him and me, Hermione. Even Ron knows that.'

`Ron! You can't compare me to Ron, Harry. He doesn't love you like… '

She never got the chance to finish her sentence, for Harry had leaned in and pressed his lips unto hers. Their first kiss. Their last kiss.

Not to long after that did the nightmare begin. Harry had sought Voldemort out; he had had enough. Everyone had come for the Final Battle: Harry, Ron, Luna, Ginny, the Order, and herself, among others. In the end, Harry and the Dark Lord had been the only ones left standing…

The wind was howling, and Hermione covered her head with the sweater's hood. And all of a sudden, tears of pain, frustration, and anger escaped her light brown eyes as she remembered how her best friend and the man she loved died, ridding the world of Lord Voldemort.

`Harry! No! Harry, please wake up!' she said, trying to run to his side, but Ron was not letting go.

`Hermione - stop. You can't do anything…'

`Ron, let go, NOW!'

`He's gone, Hermione'

`No, you shut up! He still needs to buy a house, Ron, and become an Auro! Right, Harry? Tell him, Harry! Make Ron let go of me,' she said, sliding to the floor, tears running down her bruised cheeks. Ron finally let her go, and she immediately crawled to his lifeless body, hoping against hope he had only passed out.

But when her shaking hand touched his cheek, his skin was cold.

`… Harry,' she whimpered. `Don't be like this…'

She shook him gently.

`Wake up, Harry,' she said weakly. `You're not dead… you can't die… I love you, Harry.'

`I love you, Harry…' she repeated quietly into space.

Hermione let the tears fall. She couldn't be bothered to wipe them away. Why should she? She had lost Harry. Her Harry.

He didn't deserve this fate. He deserved to be happy… with her.

She took a small piece of parchment from her jeans pocket, and kissed it. She then stood up, and walked slowly towards the lake, making her shoes fill with ice cold water.

Hermione took one last look at the parchment, then carefully laid it on the water's surface, and watched it float away from her.

For a moment, she stood still.

`I love you, Harry,' she said again. Then, finally, she turned around and left for the castle.

Floating gracefully on the surface of the Lake, the parchment read:

Dear Harry,

As this unwelcomed and unfamiliar emptiness fills my heart and soul, I have convinced myself the only way I could make myself feel a little better was to write to you, knowing full well you may not even receive this… wherever you are.

I love you. Know that I will never love another man as much as I love you.

Thank you for supporting me, and being my best friend. I love you. I cannot tell you how wounded I feel that you were taken from me unfairly. There is a chance that I will get over you, but right now I cannot see it happening. I love you.

You're a great wizard, Harry. You really are. So much better than me… Books, and cleverness? There are more important things… like friendship, and bravery, and…. and love, Harry. Love.

I love you. I can never say it enough, because it will never be enough…

I love you, my Harry.

Find this, and keep it. Please.

Love,

Hermione

As Hermione sadly walked back to the castle, she suddenly felt the urge to look back at her letter. She did. A cold breeze swept across the grounds. What Hermione saw made her smile painfully. Her letter…

… wasn't there.

---- the end…

[A/N 3: In case you guys were wondering, the letter wasn't blown away. It didn't sink, either. Somehow Harry, wherever he is, did what Hermione had asked of him. He found it, and he's kept it. Hermione knows this. Tis the reason she smiles painfully…]

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