Chapter Nine: Live like you were dying
As promised, here is the next chapter. And it is the biggest cliffhanger I have done to date. Fortunately, you won't have to wait longer than tomorrow afternoon for the next one.
Disclaimer: The song does not belong to me, if it did, I'd be filthy rich, and that is definitely NOT the case.
"Okay, so what's next?"
Harry turned to face Hermione, a look of mild surprise on his face.
"Don't you think we've earned a break?" He asked seriously.
Hermione laughed. "But we're on a roll! We've already finished three! And I want to know what L.L.I.W.D. means too." She added.
Harry smiled. "I'll tell you what it means, but we'll have to wait until the next Hogsmeade visit to do it."
He took a breath. "L.L.I.W.D. means Live Like I Was Dying."
Hermione was confused. "But isn't that what this whole list was supposed to be about? Do all the things that you've always wanted to do, but never done before?"
Harry explained. "In a sense, you're right. All the things we've done so far have been things I've wanted to do. But there are some things that, well…" he trailed off, trying to find the words. "Have you ever been asked to do something, or thought about doing something, then said to yourself, `I'd rather die than do that'? Well, there are a few things that I thought I'd rather die than do, that, now that I really think about them, I'd like to do before I die. Does that make sense?"
"What sort of things?" Hermione asked warily.
Harry smiled.
"Come to Hogsmeade with me at Christmas, and you'll see."
*
December arrived, and with it the Hogsmeade visit. Ron and Luna Lovegood had a date together, so Ron had no problem with Hermione and Harry pairing off for the day.
Though `pairing off' does seem a bit off the mark, doesn't it? Hermione thought to herself. It wasn't like she was going on a date or anything. It would just be her and Harry, going for a nice trip through Hogsmeade, Harry would do what he wanted to, and she would be there to support him, just like a friend should do.
Right. Friend.
She couldn't explain why, but she felt suddenly sad.
*
She met Harry in the Entrance Hall; he came running up to meet her, slightly out of breath, carrying a backpack.
"What's in there?"
Harry followed her gaze toward the pack slung over his shoulder and grinned at her. "Just in case," he said mysteriously.
*
It was very cold.
That was all Hermione could think of as she walked down the High Street with Harry. He had worn his black trench coat again, but all she had was a sweater. She folded her arms across her chest and shivered. A gust of wind blew in her face and she closed her eyes against the snow. She felt thoroughly miserable. Why did Harry have to go waltzing down the roads of Hogsmeade, effectively freezing her to death, when there were plenty of pubs right on this street, full of fireplaces and mugs of steaming hot cocoa and butterbeer…
Her train of thought was interrupted by a warm weight settling over her shoulders. Harry was standing behind her, and had wrapped his arms around her, pulling her partway inside his coat. She turned to face him and put her arms around his neck, hugging him and shivering. He tensed, though she wasn't sure why. She couldn't have been more relaxed here, with their arms around each other, her head tucked below his chin, his coat covering both of them and warming her inside and out.
"Would you like to get something to drink?"
She looked up at him.
"Mm-hmm." She mumbled.
Harry smiled and kissed the top of her head. "I'll take that as a yes."
He stepped away from her and removed his coat, handing it to her. She gratefully accepted it. It was made for someone with broader shoulders than she had, but she liked the way it fit. And it smelled…like Harry, she thought.
Harry took her arm and led her across the street, to a pub that had karaoke music pounding through the door. Hermione was so happy to get out of the cold that she didn't question Harry's decision.
They were the only people in the pub, apart from the bartender, a cheery-faced, red-haired lady that reminded Hermione strongly of Mrs. Weasley.
They took a seat at the table near the window, and the bartender came over and introduced herself.
"Hello, dears, I'm Josephine. Can I get you anything?"
"A butterbeer for me, and whatever she wants, too." Harry answered.
"Ditto on the butterbeer." Hermione said, smiling at Josephine.
Josephine ambled off towards the counter.
Hermione looked around the room, noting the stage, atop which there was a piano and several microphone stands, and what looked like a jukebox. Hermione hadn't seen one of those since she was a kid, and her parent's had taken her to an older restaurant. She had begged her father for coins to put in it, making it play her favorite songs.
When Josephine returned, Hermione asked her why she had a jukebox here, in a wizard pub.
"It's bewitched so that magic doesn't affect it," Josephine explained. "It also doesn't include the lyrics. This is a bit of a karaoke bar, so if you put a coin in it, you're expected to sing the selection yourself."
"Oh." Hermione was disappointed. She had been hoping to play some songs on it, but not if that included singing.
She turned to talk to Harry, but he was gone. On the table in front of his chair, was a folded piece of paper. She picked it up and read it.
Hermione,
I've been thinking of all the things that I thought I'd never do, and out of all the ones I could have chosen to do, I never thought singing would be it.
I intended to go skydiving, from a plane, several thousand feet up, - but I knew you'd probably have a heart attack if I did that.
You're probably wondering why I chose to sing, instead of go skydiving. I can only hope that your relief that I'm NOT going skydiving outweighs your desire to know why I'm singing in a karaoke bar, but seeing as how it's you, there's probably not much hope for that.
Seriously Hermione, I can't begin to express how grateful I am to you for what you've done for me these past weeks. That's why I didn't want to show you my list at first. I thought you'd turn me in to McGonagall for even thinking about pulling a prank in the Great Hall, or crashing a potions' class. I especially didn't think you'd go along with my wish to see Godric's Hollow, and I can't find the words to express to you how grateful I am that you stood by me through it, especially on my trip home. You've always been there for me, even helped me do these things that by rights should have been seen as crazy, so I can die happy. I want to thank you for that, and this is the best way I can think of to do it.
I know you're probably going to ask me where I learned to play the piano, so I'll tell you now. Mrs. Figg taught me a little bit when I was younger, and I've been practicing in the Room of Requirement all week so I don't screw this song up too horribly.
I can't express to you how grateful I am with just words.
But maybe words AND music would accomplish it better.
P.S. Look at the stage
Hermione raised her eyes from the letter, and saw Harry on the stage, sitting behind the piano, a microphone angled towards him. He nodded at Josephine, and she slipped a Galleon into the jukebox, smiling.
Harry looked at Hermione.
"This is for a very special lady, who I've never been able to thank properly for all that she's done for me."
The jukebox clicked.
"Hermione Granger, this one's for you."
He started playing. Hermione recognized the song as "Everything I do" by Brian Adams. Hermione was shocked. She had no idea Harry could play the piano, let alone sing.
And, boy, could he sing.
"Look into my eyes, you will see,
What… you mean to me.
Search your heart,
Search your soul,
When you find me there, you'll search no more."
Hermione sat there, entranced. The combination of the jukebox harmony, the piano, and Harry's rich voice washed over her, filling her with a strange emotion that she had only begun to connect to Harry within the past few weeks, ever since he asked her to help him complete his wish list.
Love.
She remembered the feeling of safety she had felt when he held her outside the gate to Potter Manor, the urge she had to protect him from the world when they first arrived at Godric's Hollow, the feeling of completeness that had come over her as he sat with his head in her lap, the promise she had made herself, that he would never have to face the world alone, if she could help it.
"Don't tell me, it's not worth trying for
You can't tell me, it's not worth dying for.
You know it's true, everything I do,
I do it for you."
Hermione felt tears pool in her eyes. Of course, she thought. How could I have been so stupid? How many times had Harry fought for her? Had risked death to keep her safe, had comforted her? How much had he done for her, over the years? How stupid was she to never think that maybe, just maybe, she could find more than friendship with him.
He wasn't looking at her, but rather at the keys, as if forcing himself to concentrate on his music, and not be distracted by anything else.
"Look into your heart, you will find,
There's nothing there to hide.
Take me as I am, take my life,
I would give it all, I would sacrifice."
He's embarrassed, she realized. Well he shouldn't be. I know a lot of guys who would kill to be able to sing like that.
Without realizing what she was doing, she got to her feet and started walking towards the stage, her mouth forming the words to the song.
"Don't tell me, it's not worth fighting for,
I can't help it, there's nothing I want more.
You know it's true, everything I do,
I do it for you.
Oh yeah."
It was only when Harry looked up at her that she realized she was standing in front of the piano. And what's more, she was singing with him.
"There's no love, like your love,
And no other, could give more love.
There's nowhere, unless you're there,
All the time, all the way, yeah."
They both stopped singing, but Harry continued playing, no longer looking at the keys, but at Hermione's eyes, watching, waiting for her to pass judgment.
Hermione stood stock still. What now? Here she was, singing a VERY romantic song with her best friend, who only a minute ago she realized she had feelings for, and he was watching her, waiting for her to do something, anything…
But what?
Harry sang softly,
"Look into your heart baby,"
So she did.
And she found him there.
"Oh yeah," she sang back, just as softly.
Harry smiled, a genuinely happy smile that she had not seen on his face for longer than she could remember, not when he took his bow in the Great Hall, not after seeing Draco Malfoy trying to get his wand out of a troll's stone nose, not when he had been surrounded by the people of Godric's Hollow. It was not borne of mischief, but joy, the sort of joy that could only be brought about by love.
He sang louder, barely managing to contain his ecstasy.
"Oh you can't tell me, it's not worth trying for."
She sang back, tears spilling over her eyelids.
"I can't help it, there's nothing I want more."
Harry's expression turned serious once more. He sang the last part of the song, looking directly into her eyes, piercing her soul.
And she remembered then, he might die.
"I would fight for you,
I'd lie for you,
Walk the wire for you,
Yeah, I'd die for you."
He stopped, reaching out over the lid of the piano, touching the fingers of his right hand to her face, while his left continued playing.
"You know it's true, everything I do,
Oh,
I do it for you."
She closed her eyes. He brought her face closer to his, and, ever so softly, their lips met.
A loud sniff broke them apart.
Josephine was standing behind the bar, holding a handkerchief to her face. When she realized they were staring at her, she stooped below the bar. "Don't mind me, you just carry on." She said, sniffling.
Hermione turned back to Harry. He was smiling.
"Shall we take her advice?"
Hermione bolted.
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