1. Burning Bright

Burning Bright

Harry, Hermione, Ron and Voldemort belong to JK Rowling…Im just letting off some steam, hopefully ya all like it. Peace.

“There is a room in the Department of Mysteries that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible then death, than human intelligence, than forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there. It is the power held within that room that you posses in such quantities and which Voldemort has none at all.” - Albus Dumbledore

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I feel like there is no need for conversation
Some questions are better left without a reason
And I would rather reveal myself than my situation
Now and then I consider, my hesitation

Harry wasn't fast enough, he knew it; Voldemort knew it and most importantly - Hermione knew it. He watched, frozen and helpless as the sickly green curse left Tom Riddle's wand, the eerie light illuminating the Dark Lord's snake-like appearance. Its intended target just a few paces from where he stood now, and still he could nothing but watch as the most precious thing in his life was taken from him.

He heard Ron scream, a horrible gut wrenching sound that should have turned his stomach-but he felt nothing, nothing except the cold. It was bitter and it engulfed him completely. Never again would he hear her voice, see her radiant smile, feel the warmth of her touch…never again.

The more the light shines through me
I pretend to close my eyes
The more the dark consumes me
I pretend I'm burning, burning bright

Neither Can Live While The Other Survives…

He paid no attention to Voldemort or to Ron as he cradled Hermione's lifeless body in his arms, his best friends heartbreaking sobs were mercilessly devoured by the thick fog that surrounded Godric's Hollow that cold night. He only had eyes for Hermione; slowly and on legs that seemed to be incased in stone he staggered to her and dropped to his knees. Yet no tears fell, as if by his denial of them he could make her death a dream. He didn't watch her get struck with the Killing Curse. He didn't witness that fragile and beautiful life fade from her eyes, didn't see the amazing, stunning young woman who over the course of seven long years had slowly captured his heart- the same young woman who he had only recently realized he loved more than anything or anyone…she did not just leave his life completely.

I wonder if the things I did were just to be different
To spare myself of the constant shame of my existence
And I would surely redeem myself in my desperation
Here and now I'll express, my situation

Harry didn't notice Ron's surprised expression or the blue light that was reflecting in his friends' eyes, he couldn't- nothing mattered anymore, not without her. Even though her heart belonged to Ron, it didn't make him love her any less. He didn't hear Voldemort's gasp, he couldn't…all he could hear, feel and see was the cold, as it settled over his heart. The guilt and remorse and a sense of loss that he had never felt before, it was something that he couldn't explain or put into words.

He would never know what it would be like to taste her lips with his own, to hear her say that she loved him, to grow old with her, to laugh with her and cry with her, to hold her and make love to her…never.

The darkness was closing in around him, suffocating and yet welcoming at the same time. He wanted to embrace it, let it take him away from this horrible, unspeakable pain. For one brief moment he stared into the abyss…

“Harry…?” Ron's rough voice followed in after him, and for some reason, Harry clung to it.

It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible then death…

Suddenly the cold faded, almost as if it was never there. Now only a burning heat remained, and he felt it scorch him to his soul. For reasons unknown to him, he placed his right hand on Hermione's chest. He felt it surge through him, something wonderful, something terrible- but it was something that he could control. It came from him, he was made from it. It ran through his veins, his skin, it was a part of him.

The more the light shines through me
I pretend to close my eyes
The more the dark consumes me
I pretend I'm burning bright

The more the light shines through me
I pretend to close my eyes
The more the dark consumes me
I pretend I'm burning

Neither Can Live While The Other Survives…

He understood everything now; what he was, why he was here. There were no longer any mysteries, he was here for a reason, and that reason was now. Tom Riddle was the mission, Harry Potter was the weapon…and Hermione Granger was the catalyst.

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Ron gasped as the blue light shot from Harry's hand and covered Hermione's body in its warm glow. He watched in amazement has her skin regained its natural color, as her lungs once again filled with air. He sat shocked beyond all reason as her eyes snapped open and locked with Harry's, and a feeling of dread rocked him to the core, because now he understood as well, and by the look in Hermione's eyes, she knew it as well.

He could hear her whispering Harry's name, and slowly shaking her head, willing it to not be true.

“Now you know, Hermione.” Harry's voice sounded distant and ominous.

Tears fell from her eyes freely, “No Harry! No!”

She tried to sit up, but Ron held her down as Harry turned away from them to face the Dark Lord who had so nearly taken the young woman from them.

There's nothing ever wrong but nothing's ever right
Such a cruel contradiction
I know I cross the lines its not easy to define
I'm born to indecision
There's always something new some path I'm supposed to choose
With no particular rhyme or reason

*****************

Hermione watched in horror as Harry walked slowly towards a confused Voldemort- her body still weak from the shock of death…and resurrection. She knew now, what it was…what tied her to Harry, what drew her to him from the very beginning. How could fate lead her this far only to let her realize what was there all along, and then take it away from her?

She shoved at Ron with all her strength, trying to get up, to prevent what she knew was about to happen, to not let this be the end, but Ron was not moving, his arms wrapped tightly around her as a thunder and lightning danced with each other in the night sky.

She whimpered as Harry stopped in front of Voldemort, his arms hanging loosely at his sides- his tall form surrounded by that wonderful light, so blue. To Hermione, she had never seen anything so bright, or wonderful or as terrible as what she was seeing at that moment.

Then Harry looked back at her with a sad smile, an apology…for never telling her, for never showing her how much he loved her, for waiting until the very end. Then his hands were on Voldemort and a bright light engulfed both of them, so bright that Hermione had to avert her eyes, because it was like staring directly into the sun. There were no screams, no laughing, no sounds of any kind… nothing expect the beautifully tragic phoenix song that came from the light.

Just as soon as it the light and phoenix song appeared they were gone.

The Dark Lord Voldemort and the Chosen One Harry Potter were gone, as if they were never there.

The cold struck her to the core. Never would she be able to tell him, that her heart truly belonged to him, and no one else. Never would she be able to hear him say that he loved her, to feel his touch, to taste his lips, to grow old with him and make love to him, to marry and have children with him. To give him everything in life that he was denied.

Never had she felt so cold….

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