Author's Note: Well, I lied. From popular demand, I wrote this, a companion fic/sequel to "Time to Say I Love You." Fluff.
A Moment in Time
It began with her saying his name.
"Harry."
How many times had she said his name over the past 7 years? Millions, he thought idly in the portion of mind that was irrationally clear and thinking of other, inconsequential things-like remembering Dumbledore's saying nonsense words like "nitwit, blubber, oddment and squeak" in place of a welcoming speech-the small portion of his mind not focused on strategy and planning for this, the final attack.
He'd heard her say his name so many times in so many different tones. He knew them all, too. The way she said his name when she was sad or worried or afraid. The way she said his name when something he'd done or said touched her for some reason. The way she said his name in exasperation and annoyance and sometimes anger. The way she said his name when she was amused.
But he'd never heard her say his name like she did now. There was so much emotion in it, all those things he knew she must be feeling at that moment. Fear and hope, dread and an odd excitement at the end finally being near-and more than anything else, love. Love and loyalty and friendship and trust-all those things which she'd given to him over the years, all those things which he felt for her as well… Love.
And just hearing the way she said his name in that moment put an end to the doubts which he still occasionally felt as to how she felt about him-did she, could she, care as much about him as he cared about her? Sometimes, in his worst moments, he couldn't quite believe that she might. He needed her so much, needed her in a way that scared him with its intensity and its single-mindedness. He couldn't quite believe that she-who was so strong, who made him stronger in his moments of weakness-could possibly need him, love him, as much as he loved her.
But now, hearing the way she said his name, he knew. She did.
He stopped talking, breaking off mid-sentence-and while a moment ago, he'd thought that strategizing and planning with Professor McGonagall and Remus was the most important thing and the biggest priority at this moment, he suddenly knew that it wasn't. Planning and strategy could wait.
He knew it even as Professor McGonagall and Remus gave him understanding looks and quietly stepped away, leaving him alone.
And slowly he turned to face her, his eyes searching for and finding hers as she moved closer.
Her gaze didn't waver, never left his face and for the first time, all her feelings were clear to be seen on her face. There were no barriers, no masks; everything had been stripped away in this moment.
This moment which was one of those defining moments of life, and he knew that nothing would ever be the same again.
I love you, I love you, I love you… I need you…
His thoughts were repeating themselves in a litany and he could see the same confession in her eyes and felt a surge of happiness that drowned out everything else, the worry, the uncertainty, the doubts…
None of it mattered anymore. It didn't matter that she might be in danger-it was too late for that. It didn't matter about Ron or that he wasn't entirely sure whether Ron would be okay with him and Hermione getting together. Nothing mattered at that moment except that she loved him and he loved her-and they were finally going to put an end to all the evasions and the avoidance and the denial.
Her steps slowed, almost paused, and then she closed the rest of the distance between them at a run and before he could think, she was in his arms, knocking him back a step with the force of her embrace.
He closed his arms around her, tightly, holding her to him, his eyes closing, his face pressed against her hair. And he just held her, savored the familiar-and yet new-sensation of her in his arms, her body pressed against his, the warmth of her, the familiar smell of her, the comfort of her… And he had the sudden thought that he could stay like this forever, just holding her in his arms; he never wanted to let her go…
He wondered if he should say something but after all, there was no need to talk. He knew she understood and any words would ruin the moment.
He only let her go so he could look at her face, his eyes roaming over the familiar features as if he wanted to memorize them, with the vague, unacknowledged fear in his heart that maybe this would be the last time he'd get to really look at her…
Hermione…
And he forgot that there were more than a hundred other people in the Great Hall, probably all watching them. His entire world narrowed down to just the two of them, together.
And he lifted his hands to cup her face, tenderly, and did what he'd thought of doing, wanted to do, for months now but never had before. He kissed her, his lips caressing hers, learning the feel of her lips, the softness of them, the taste of her. Kissed her as he'd never kissed anyone before because, after all, this was different. Different because it was her and him and he somehow knew that he'd been wanting to do this for a lot longer than he'd known, that this was something he could almost swear he'd been waiting his whole life for…
He kissed her so that even if this were the end, she would know he loved her. Kissed her deeply, thoroughly, so he'd have one less regret if- if things didn't go well…
He should have kissed her like this months ago. He knew a sudden sick regret at all the days and weeks and months he'd wasted, wasted by not really seeing Hermione as she really was, wasted by not understanding just how much he needed her and how much he cared about her-as so much more than just his best friend-wasted by not giving in and kissing her every time he'd found himself staring at her lips before. They could have had so much more time... He'd said it before to Ginny but only now did he truly mean them, now when he knew that this thing with Hermione, his feelings for her, were real and strong and maybe, just maybe, had always been there.
They finally drew apart and he looked into her eyes, seeing the love in them and the happiness that they'd finally crossed the line between friendship and something more that they'd been skirting the edge of for months now.
The smallest of smiles curved her lips and looking at her, he felt the regret at the time they'd wasted fade. Because, after all, it hadn't been entirely wasted time. They had grown so much closer together; he'd realized just how much he needed her and she'd always been there for him. They had argued when tempers got short thanks to stress and lack of sleep; he'd snapped at both her and Ron when he'd gotten frustrated-and she'd put up with him and through it all, she'd been his friend. She'd been his friend, his strength, his sanity-and she'd shown him over and over again that she loved him.
I love you, Hermione…
He didn't say the words aloud, only thought them as he looked at her and knew that she understood. She knew.
He tightened his arms around her again in a last hug, brushing his lips against her hair.
And then it was over-it had been a little moment outside of time.
But there were things he needed to do, plans needed to be finalized and strength found from somewhere inside him to do what needed to be done.
He turned back to Professor McGonagall and Remus. "I think 10 minutes will be enough for me to find him and hold him off-and then the Order will need to come in, distract the rest of the Death Eaters, while I perform the spell."
Professor McGonagall nodded and Remus said quietly, "We'll be ready to follow you in whenever you need us, so if you get there before the 10 minutes are up, just send a signal-your Patronus should work-and we'll move in."
"Okay."
Remus put a hand on his arm, squeezing it lightly. "Good luck, Harry."
Professor McGonagall swallowed and also said, "Good luck, Mr. Potter-and be careful."
Harry managed a slight, serious smile. "I will."
He turned, found Ron watching him with an odd look on his face, the look that Ron occasionally got when he was feeling a lot more than he was comfortable expressing. Harry moved to hug Ron- a real hug- felt Ron hug him back.
"Be careful in there, mate."
"Yeah, I will." Harry smiled. "You too." He paused and then added soberly, "Take care of Hermione, will you?"
Their eyes met and held for a moment-and Harry knew that Ron understood he meant to watch out for Hermione during the battle-and also afterwards, in case-in case something happened.
Ron nodded. "Of course."
It was time; he needed to leave.
But he had one last thing to do…
He turned, his gaze immediately finding Hermione, their eyes meeting. He could see, even at a distance, the slight quiver pass over her face as she tried not to cry and even forced a smile.
I love you.
I love you too.
Be careful.
I will; you too.
And as he looked at her, he was suddenly sure that he would survive. For the first time, he felt no fear that he might not make it through the battle; he would; he had to. He had so much to live for…
He had so much to live for-so he would live, for her, for them…
His lips twitched in the ghost of a smile.
I'll come back to you, Hermione.
Her expression lightened almost imperceptibly and somehow he knew that she understood. Yes, he would come back; he would survive…
I know…
And with the image of her face in his mind, he turned and left the safety of the Great Hall to face his nemesis and his destiny.
~*~
She was the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes again. Her somewhat blurry face, and the smile that lit up her expression when she saw him open his eyes.
"Oh, Harry."
Just his name- again- but that was enough.
He blinked, to clear his vision, conscious now that her hand was gripping his and that there were tear stains on her cheeks.
He tried to remember what had happened-tried and failed. He remembered saying goodbye, remembered going to the deserted fortress which Voldemort had taken over, remembered feeling his scar explode with searing pain-and then nothing else.
He swallowed, opened his mouth. "Is- is it over?" he managed to croak.
And she smiled a smile brighter than any he'd ever seen, a smile that made him think of a sunrise.
"Yes, it's over. You did it, Harry. It's over now." Over-and with very few casualties, amazingly few. But the Death Eaters had rapidly given up the moment they realized that Voldemort was dead and gone, for good this time. And they were all alive with only a few serious injuries among them-all of them had survived, except for Snape. But she didn't mention that. There would be time later to tell Harry the details; for now, all he needed to know was that it was over. And all she needed to know was that Harry would be okay.
He smiled, his eyes closing again. "'s good," he mumbled. And then forced his eyes open again to look at her. "Stay with me," he said softly.
"Of course." She smiled softly. "I love you, Harry."
"Love you too," he half-mumbled, his hand tightening its grip on hers.
And she smiled and leaning over, gently brushed her lips over his scar.
The End
(for real, this time)