The World Ends
Rating: PG-13
Summary: I close my eyes. I can't have this conversation again. It hurt enough this first time. I can't even turn around and look at him. I can't loose myself like that again. Hermione leaves Hogwarts when she finds out she is a slayer.
Author's Note: This fic was originally written for the Gumboot Mafia AU fic competition. I entered to help out my friend who is the webmistress and they needed more fics for the comp so I wrote this in about half an hour. Voting was just completed and I didn't win anything but I'm not surprised. It's complete cheese. That said… enjoy.
I'm not sure how we got here. Things weren't supposed to turn out like this. I've been concentrating so much on what everyone else needs. The big picture, the grand scale. Sometimes I forgot I was just a teenage girl.
"Do you think this is fucking funny?" I yelled into the empty night sky. There was no need to be quiet. Nothing was going to show tonight. "Are we one big fucking cosmic joke to you?"
Sighing, I look down at the wood in my hand. Thicker than I was used to, it lacked the warm tingling of power my wand usually sent up my arm.
"The stake is power," I mumbled.
No matter how many times I told myself that I never believed it. It was just a carefully whittled piece of wood. If I broke a branch off a tree it would do exactly the same job.
No, the stake wasn't power. The stake was a mere symbol. A symbol of power. Just the same as the jagged scared that rested above those sparkling green eyes.
I couldn't think about that. It wasn't part of my world now.
How the hell had things gotten so complicated?
How the hell was I straddling three worlds at the same time, knowing two of them could blow up any second? And the third, well, the governments were about to destroy that. Bloody, fucking day off for the forces of evil with that one.
Tonight was pointless. I knew that before I snuck out my bedroom window, leaving my parents happily snoring in their own beds, oblivious to the fact that their only child may have an off day which might just end her life.
Nothing was going to turn up tonight. They were too close. Apocalypse too impending.
No wonder I couldn't sleep.
That was when I felt it. The familiar tingle down my spine. Like someone dancing their nails across my flesh. Teasing me.
I didn't have to turn to know who it was.
"You shouldn't be here," I tell him tiredly.
"Singing my tune now?"
I'm almost ashamed at how his voice affected me. Memories surfaced before I could suppress them. Late nights in the common room, curled up on the couches staring into the fire as the three of us figured out how to save the world.
How they ended up the simple days is beyond me.
"You really can't be here."
I fight back the desperation his mere presence is causing me. I just want to loose myself in him, pull him close and smother him in a hug like in fifth year.
"Why not?"
I close my eyes. I can't have this conversation again. It hurt enough this first time. I can't even turn around and look at him. I can't loose myself like that again.
"You know why," I answer in a whisper.
"No I don't. You told me but I don't understand. I don't accept it."
Please. No. I can't do this not again.
"You have to. I did."
I walk, my feet knowing I had to put as much distance between us. I'm barely two steps before I feel his hand on my arm, pulling me around. Stubbornly I stare at my feet refusing to look up at him. I can't. I'd lose myself. I can't afford to do that. Too many people are depending on me.
"Harry, please," I plead, wishing that he would stop touching me, wishing that he would remove himself from my personal bubble. Wishing that his hand wasn't burning a brand into my skin, that his breath on the back on my neck wasn't sending shock waves through my entire body.
"Stop denying it, Hermione. You're a witch. I can feel the power radiating off you."
"Feel harder," I whisper.
"What?" the question is gentle, probing, he really is confused.
"Just feel harder," I yell exasperatedly, all my frustrations boiling to the surface. Flicking my hair out of my eyes I look up at him in defiance.
It's a mistake.
Harry's eyes flash as he sees me properly for the first time. I'd almost forgotten how intense his gaze could be.
"Just feel harder," I whisper, amazed that I can find my voice. "I'm not just a witch anymore."
"Were you ever?"
"Harry," I start pre-empting where the conversation may lead.
"It's okay. I know," he assures me an unreadable expression crossing his face. Harry closes his eyes, taking a step closer to me.
I stare up at Harry nervously playing with my hair. "It's just -"
"Hermione, can we not?" Harry cuts across me.
"Sorry."
The next few seconds were excruciating as we both stared at our feet trying not to look at the other.
"Why are you here?" I finally ask. The question had been burning in the back of my head ever since I felt Harry's presence.
"I thought we weren't going to -" he answers shortly, making a sweeping gesture between us, unable to find the right words.
My blood boiled.
"Right, so you came all the way from the other side of Britain so we could not talk about our relationship?"
Anger flashed through Harry's eyes. "So we have a relationship now? Or only when it suits you?"
"That's not what I meant Harry and you know it."
"Then explain it to me Hermione. Or am I the only one too thick to understand?"
"I -"
"No, Hermione. You don't get to talk yourself out of this one."
My mouth snaps shut as I stare at Harry as he paced in front of me. I've never seen him this… hurt. It's almost like I've broken him.
"What did you expect me to think? I woke up expecting to find you next to me and instead I find a note. `I'm a slayer. I have to do this. I'm so sorry.' Did you really think that was going to cut it?"
I stare at my feet, ashamed as images from that night start to flash through me. Harry stoic and cold as he stared into space relating the details of the prophecy to me from memory. The tentative kiss of support I gave him rapidly turning into something far more passionate. The raw power of Harry's hands as they travelled expertly around my body. The hard alabaster of Harry's chest rising with each breath. The sheer ecstasy and completeness of being there, doing that with Harry.
"I really am sorry you know?"
"I know," Harry sighs. "I just -"
"Want an explanation."
Harry sighs again and nods. Tentatively I hold out my hand, hoping to god that he takes it. Slowly I feel his fingers entwine with my and I lead him over to a gravestone big enough for us both to sit on.
"I, ah, don't know where to start," I tell him, nervously chewing on my bottom lip.
"The beginning, that's usually a good place."
"Okay, right, the beginning." I close my eyes, letting the night air flow over me as my mind shifted back. "A few weeks before I left, Dumbledore called me into his office. There was this guy, Maitlan. That's when I found out, about the Slayer thing. One girl in all the world. I freaked, didn't believe him and then when finally I did he started to train me. Even since he told me a part of me knew that I would have to leave Hogwarts. Vampires don't really like to hang around so much magic. When I came to see you Maitlan had just told me. He didn't want to waste any time. I guess he didn't want to give me time to make excuses. He wanted to leave then but Dumbledore talked him into letting me have time to say goodbye to you and Ron. When I went to see you, you told me about the prophecy and I couldn't do it. I couldn't put that on you right then. When I woke the next morning and saw you sleeping there, I couldn't do it. I knew that if I woke you I would never leave. Screw how many people were going to die because of it, if I woke you I would never leave."
Finally I open my eyes to look up at Harry. He's staring at me, his gaze broken.
"It's never going to be us, is it?" he finally whispers.
Sighing, I shake my head. "Apparently they call this sacrifice. It's what we hero types do."
"Yeah, well, it sucks."
"And to think all this time Ron was jealous."
"Who knows, maybe this whole Voldemort thing will be over soon," Harry says hopefully.
"You might want to hurry up with that."
He turns to look at me quizzically.
I shrug. "World ends next week if I don't stop it."
Harry's mouth drops open as he stares incredulously at me. "Oh," he finally manages.
I don't know how long we sat there, each lost in our own thoughts, neither wanting the night to end. Finally I came to my decision.
"Come on," I tell Harry holding out my hand.
"Where are we going?"
I stare down at him, knowing that I'll never regret this. "To say goodbye."
******
I look back on that night now and know that it was the beginning of the end. I saved the world and Harry did stop Voldemort but at the cost of Ron. I blamed Harry because he couldn't protect him. Harry blamed me because I wasn't there to protect him. But most importantly we both blamed ourselves.
I only saw Harry once after the funeral. He told me he was getting married. I didn't know what to say so I asked him why. His answer -
"The world ends next week. You have to stop it."
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