AN: Fine, if you want the conclusion that badly…
Some people have said that the karaoke was a little out of character, but that's exactly why it fit so well with the whole `wouldn't do if I was dying' reasoning. Some people really liked that though, and so this update is especially for them, especially because I didn't think I'd ever catch myself writing anything remotely song-fic- ish.
Chapter Ten : The Last Wish
Harry stood on the stage, dumbfounded.
What on earth had just happened?
Josephine cleared her throat.
"You know, just because she runs, doesn't mean she doesn't want you to follow her." She said pointedly.
Harry ran out the door as if Voldemort was on his tail.
*
Hermione dropped to her knees beside the iced-over lake.
"Why?" She shouted at the sky. "Why is this happening? Why does he have to die?"
She bent her head and cried, her tears melting the snow around her hands.
"I love him so much," she said. "I wish I had realized just how much before I knew about the prophecy, because then I might have had more time to tell him, to show him. But now, he could die, and I can't stop it. How do you do this to me, Harry?" She screamed. "How do you get me to break rules for you, when I won't do it for anyone else? How do you make me feel so important, so needed? How do you do this to me?"
She sat back on her heels, looking out over the lake.
"Why did you do this to me, Harry?"
"Do what?" a voice asked.
She turned.
There he was, standing not two feet behind her. She had not even heard him arrive. She thought he was still back in the pub. And, from the look on his face, it seemed he had been listening to her for quite some time.
"Why did you make me fall in love with you?" She asked, despair in her voice.
"I didn't mean to," he said, staring at the ground. "I didn't mean to fall in love with you, it just happened. Maybe if I had been expecting it, I would have been able to stop myself, before I hurt you. But I never expected anyone to love me, and maybe that's why I wanted you to so badly."
He turned away from her, looking out across the icy expanse of the lake.
"I've never had that before," he said softly, looking up at the sky. "You and Ron have, most people do, at some point or other, not me." He looked out across the grounds. "You've never had a day where you doubt that someone loves you. You always know, no matter how far away you are from your family, that you're never far from their thoughts, and they love you so much. You've always lived with the knowledge that people love you, care about you, who would risk everything to keep you safe. `What did it feel like?' I wondered." His voice was almost a whisper now. He turned to her, a deep and abiding sadness in his eyes, that, she realized with a pang, had always been there, unnoticed by her or anyone else. He took a step towards her, a longing, hungry look stealing over his face. "I wanted to know so badly, I wanted to know what it feels like to be loved. When you asked to see my diary, and you saw my Wish List, I expected you to try and dissuade me from doing it.
"But you didn't. And not only that, you promised to help me complete it. When I went to bed that night we got back from Godric's Hollow, I decided that if I ever did love someone, if I was ever asked who the one person I could ever love was, I would say it was you. You probably think I'm selfish, telling you all of this now when it seems like it's too late for it to possibly make a difference. But I tell you, Hermione, the entire reason I made a Wish List was so I could die without regrets, and if I died without telling you how much I loved you, I would always regret it."
He took a step closer to her. She could see the sincerity in his eyes as he told her this, she started to answer, but Harry raised a finger to her lips, a question in his eyes.
"What does it feel like Hermione? What does it mean to you to know that you are loved?" His voice dropped, he waited for her to answer.
She took his hand in hers. Stepping closer to him, she pulled him into an embrace. She inhaled deeply, concentrating on what she felt.
She raised her head and looked into his eyes.
"What do you feel?" she asked, softly.
"I don't know how to describe it. I only know that, if I had to die now, I couldn't think of anyplace I'd rather be, than here with you, your arms around me. I feel as if I could take on ten Voldemort's and win, if it meant I could be with you again afterwards."
He raised her hand to his face, pressing her palm to his cheek. His skin was warm under her fingers.
"I would die with your hand in mine, clasped tightly to make it clear that we will not be separated. But most of all, Hermione, I want to live. I want to live to see you every day of my life, in a world where I don't have to worry about dying unexpectedly, on the whim of madman. I wish I could say that I thought I was going to win, I wish I could tell you that I'll be returning to you when the fight is over. But I can't. I have no reason, really, to live. I've done everything I've wanted to do before I die, I've even told you how I felt about you, but even that is not enough. I though that if I confessed my feelings to you, it would give me the reason I need to survive, but it hasn't.
"I know it's probably hard to believe, but I can't remember anyone telling me they loved me, not as long as I've lived. I know my parents must have said it, but I can't remember that. My last wish was Find Love. Not necessarily romantic love, but I want someone to tell me they love me, so I can die knowing I was loved, in this life."
Hermione felt like crying. She couldn't imagine living without her parents telling her they loved her, at least once a day, at the end of every letter they sent, the last words they spoke to her at night. How could Harry have survived, never having heard someone tell him that?
Harry was still looking at her, a pleading look on his face. "Say it Hermione. Say it and mean it."
He pulled her closer, his breath tickling her face.
"So I can remember," he whispered.
"I love you," she said, tears coursing down her face. He closed his eyes, drawing back slightly, a smile spreading across his lips, as if he had never heard anything so wonderful in his life.
She raised her other hand to his face, pulling him closer. He opened his eyes to find hers inches from his own.
"I love you so much, Harry." She sobbed, closing the gap and kissing him tenderly.
Several minutes later, they broke apart, gasping for breath. Hermione laid her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he held her tightly, running his fingers through her hair.
Harry was first to break the silence.
"I'm not going to die," he said simply.
Hermione looked up at him. He smiled down at her and said,
"After that, how could I possibly lose?"
*
Later that evening, Harry and Hermione walked through Hogsmeade, Harry's trenchcoat draped over both of them. They had returned to Josephine's bar to retrieve Harry's backpack and pay the bill. Josephine had smiled and winked at them a lot, and they left the pub blushing as she called, "Let me know when the wedding is! I'll let you have your reception here for free!"
Hermione kissed Harry's cheek, and said, "So, what was in your backpack?"
Harry laughed. "Just something I'd need if I chickened out of singing."
"What is it?" She asked.
Harry removed the backpack and handed it to her. Grabbing her suddenly, he kissed her full on the mouth, and said, "See for yourself." before tearing off down the street as if You-Know-Who was hot on his tail.
Still dazed from the kiss, Hermione opened the backpack with fingers stiff from the cold. She looked inside, not realizing at first, but then she gave a shriek of laughter and tore off down the street after Harry.
Inside the backpack was a skydiving parachute.
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