Goodbye To You

1. Chapter One

Rewritten slightly, because I always did want to continue this story, but some things needed to be changed…

Anyway, based off the song, “Goodbye to You,” by Michelle Branch. It's probably obvious where this story is headed, but then again, I do love my plot twists…lol.

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Neither of us knew how it happened.

We were simply lying on the ground, hidden by the grass, our backs soaked. We stared up at the night sky, side by side. We could hear laughter, music, conversations, and the pitter of feet dancing - all part of the celebration in honor of the marriage of Bill Weasley and Fleur Delaceur. We had just left the noise and the crowd, desperate for a place of solace, for a place to speak our minds.

I had expected that he'd want to discuss the horcruxes; maybe even talk about Godric's Hollow, about the hunt, about the war with Voldemort that drew closer each day. Perhaps even the prophecy. Yet not once did such a topic enter our conversation. Instead, he divulged to me his hopes for the future. Neither of us needed to add if he survived. We both knew very well that such a phrase was a necessary ending to each dream he revealed - each dream any of us revealed. But the phrase remain unspoken, as we knew that reminding ourselves, or rather bringing what we knew out into the open, would do neither of us good, especially during such a joyous occasion - one of the few we were sure to experience.

That was when it began. We turned to look at one another, and we were both laughing with happiness we hadn't felt since fifth year. He continued to tell me more about the future as the stars, the silver sparkle accentuated by the deep midnight blue of the sky, grew brighter and brighter, just like his dreams. That's when his eyes caught mine - green on brown, brown on green. It was as if some gravitational force unbeknownst to either one of us was pulling us closer.

“Hi,” I whispered gently, not blinking, trying to drink in all of his eyes.

“Hi,” Harry replied, just as softly. He lifted his hand and his thumb lightly caressed my cheek, leaving a tingling trail.

We leaned into one another, eyes closed, and kissed. He moved his hands from my face, placing them on my back, while my hands found their way into his hair, and pulled one another closer.

It was then that we realized what we were doing. As if embarrassed, we pushed away from one another, breathing heavily. He ran his fingers through his messy hair, while I tried to straighten out my light blue dress robe, which, with its numerous amounts of grass stains, was beyond repair anyway.

“I'm sorry,” I said immediately, now preoccupied with removing bits of dirt from my hair.

“No, it was my fault,” he replied. Suddenly, dirt became unimportant as we began to babble, our sentences cutting one another off.

“It was the atmosphere, I mean—”

“It must have been the music, that's what—”

“And emotions running high, what with—”

“And, really, it must be the wedding that caused—”

We finally stopped talking nonsense and locked eyes once more. We both knew what happened between us had nothing to do with how brightly the sky was shining, the music in the background, or the happiness that lasted from the wedding - they were all simply beautiful coincidences. That kiss had been no mistake, and for either of us to deny this fact would be not only stubborn, but also insane on both our parts.

“So,” I said hesitantly, threading my fingers through his. We lay back down on the grass, our fingers still entangled.

“Where do we go from here?” he asked me quietly.

“I'm not sure,” I replied, as I moved closer to him once more.

He cleared his throat. “Should we…should we forget it ever happened?”

Horror rushed through my body. “Well…I mean…” I trailed off, looking away, and letting my hand fall limply from his. Then I continued, still not looking at him, “Do you want to forget what happened?” I held my breath, hoping beyond hope that his answer wouldn't be one that charged a knife through my heart.

“No,” came his reply. I never thought such a simple word could give me so much joy. A smile all over my face, I'm sure, I turned back to him.

“Really?”

“Really.” He returned my smile with his own; his green eyes alight with joy.

Instead of kissing once more, as one would expect done, like in those pointless muggle romantic comedies, we spent the rest of the night talking. Except, instead of discussing future, we spoke about our worst year at Hogwarts, the one we had just left - sixth year.

“Being with Ginny made me feel as if I wasn't me,” Harry told me in a voice barely above a murmur. “Sure, it felt nice, but it was as if I was protecting myself from what was really out there. And then, whenever something went wrong, there was this voice inside my head, always reprimanding me, always guiding me. The voice was yours. It's been yours for as long as I can remember.” He gave a little laugh, and then became serious once more. “I think I've always felt something more than friendship towards you,” he continued.

“I feel the same,” I confessed. “Honestly, I can't believe how…how mental I went this year.” I closed my eyes, ashamed of how I behaved. “First there was that thing with Ron…oh, what an experience that was,” I sighed. “Never had I known someone to have a crush on me like he did. I wasn't sure if I returned the feelings, but I knew that no one had ever felt so…so desperately about me. I just expected that he'd treat me better after Ginny told me last summer, I guess.” I closed my eyes again, thinking painfully of that day when Ginny revealed to me that Ron's feelings towards me were more than platonic. I should have realized his true intentions by, at the very least, fourth year. Really, I should have. But I was too preoccupied with making sure Harry was safe the entirety of fourth and fifth year to notice Ron or the way he acted towards me. “And then he went off and tried to make me jealous with Lavender, and he was constantly insulting me…I went insane,” I continued in a hoarse whisper. “It's not that I wanted him as a boyfriend. He'd always been…more of a brother to me. I guess…I guess I thought that, somehow, he'd treat me better. I was convinced he would. But he didn't.”

I took a moment to breathe in deeply, calming myself down. I never realized how much Ron's cruelty at times affected me. Finally, I said what I had wanted to reveal for a while.

“Do you know the first time I realized how I felt about you?” I asked Harry.

“When?” Harry asked curiously, brushing a piece of bushy hair from my face.

I grinned at the gesture, then continued, staring up at the patterns the stars created: “That day in Transfiguration, when Ron did that impression of me, and I left the room and my books in tears. You came after me.” I turned away from the sky to look at him and repeated, “You came after me. If I got into an argument with you, Ron would never have found me. But you did. And that's when I knew that there doesn't need to be jealousy, or tension, or anger for someone to turn from a friend to…this. ” I gave a little laugh as I remembered the aforementioned day, and added the memory to my explanation. “It also helped when Neville told me that you told off Ron for making fun of me. Apparently, when you asked him why he imitated me and he replied I shouldn't have laughed at his mustache, you told him, `So did I, it was the stupidest thing I've ever seen'?”

“I did,” Harry grinned. “It was, really. And I couldn't stand how upset you were.”

“That's how I knew,” I smiled. “But, I also knew that Ginny still had a crush on you, and you were growing feelings for her…” My smile slowly turned into a frown as I thought back to the day I discovered that their relationship was bound to occur. “So, I preoccupied myself with Ron,” I continued. “It was the only way I could…I could stop myself from attacking Ginny.” Harry didn't frown, as I had expected, but smiled even wider.

“You wanted to attack Ginny?”

“Yes,” I said, and couldn't help a small laugh. “It was just so obvious that she didn't care about you in the same way as I did. That she was still caught up in the school girl crush - still obsessed with her fangirl dream.” I closed my eyes and shuddered. “I wanted to tell you that she still saw you as the `Boy-Who-Lived,' but you were so angry with me this school year. I didn't think you would believe me.” My voice grew so soft that I feared he could no longer hear me.

Harry listened to me, not once interrupting. When I finished my last sentence, he said, uncertainty flickering throughout his face, “Hermione, I'm so sorry. I really am. I was horrible to you.”

“I was just as horrid,” I replied shakily. “I truly was. I put all my frustrations on you…my frustrations with Ron, with Ginny, with the prophecy…and then, finally, my frustration with the fact that your intentions with Ginny bothered me. It was so hard to smile that day,” I told Harry. “The day you two kissed.” Harry remained silent, until he responded with something absolutely unexpected.

“That's why you looked at me that way,” he said, understanding dawning on his face.

“Looked at you…what?” came my confused reply.

“The night I left, when I gave you two the potion…” Harry ran his fingers through his hair, thinking. “You looked at me strangely. I thought it was because you were scared.”

“I was!” I insisted immediately. I really had been.

“Yeah,” Harry said, frowning. “But that wasn't it. It wasn't that you were just scared that I could have died; you had that look in you that told me that you were scared you wouldn't be able to tell me something. That one of us would die before I knew.”

I blushed, something I never thought I would ever do in my entire left. I always assumed blushing was something reserved for girls such as Lavender and Parvati. I guess I had to be wrong sometimes. “You're right,” I said steadily. “I was afraid I'd never be able to tell you what you mean to me. That you'd die thinking that Ginny was the only one who cared for you.”

“We were stupid, weren't we?” Harry said with a bitter laugh.

“Very,” I nodded in agreement.

“I guess we should make up for lost time then.”

“We should.”

And so we did, in the most romantic way imaginable. My head lay on his chest as he ran his fingers through my hair. We remained there, under the stars, the moon shining on us, until we heard the guests begin to leave, and recognized that we needed to return to our friends, and also face the two people we feared more above anything concerning our new relationship: the two youngest Weasleys.

Before we stood up, Harry whispered in my ear, “Promise me something, Hermione.”

“I'm not going to stay back, if that's what you're asking of me!” I told him immediately, indignant, thinking back to fifth year and what he had told Ginny. But, then again, I wasn't Ginny, nor were we 15 and 16. Still, I sat up, my temper getting the better of me.

Harry sat up as well. “I don't think I could ever convince you of that,” he told me. “Not that I don't want you to…” He trailed off and sighed. “If I was granted tree wishes, the first one off my list would be that you and Ron would stay here, safe and sound.”

“Harry,” I told him impatiently, “Neither of us are one to—”

“I know!” Harry interrupted. “I know! That's why it would conflict with my second wish - for you to be happy. I know that you'd never be content sitting here while we fought the battle. That's not you. You're too loyal, too intelligent, too brave.”

“What is it that you want then?” I asked Harry quietly, my heart beating at a pace that, until now, I believed didn't exist. I honestly had no clue what he wanted from me, yet I felt as if I could hardly breathe.

“If I die,” Harry said slowly, yet deliberately, “If I die, I want you to be strong.”

“What?” I asked him, utterly taken aback.

“I don't want you to throw away your life if I die,” Harry insisted. “I want you to live life as you would if nothing went wrong. I don't want you to mourn for me, or dress in black for your entire life.”

“Harry, let's not talk about this,” I said in a rushed voice, fear catching at it, causing it to rise in pitch.

“It may be inevitable, Hermione,” Harry's voice said, as if from afar. I felt as if we were in different worlds, though I had no clue why. “And if we're going to do this…if we're going to start this relationship, I need to know that if I do die, your life won't be ruined because of me.”

“Harry, please,” I begged him, trying to get through to him, although we remained worlds apart.

Harry wasn't listening. “You deserve to live your life, Hermione,” he continued. “I don't want to be the cause of the destruction of more lives than need be. Promise me?” He turned to me and grabbed my hands, placing them in his tight grip.

I stared at him, not knowing what to say. My mind was conflicted. On one hand, I knew it would be impossible for me to continue living life regularly if he died as a friend, let alone as someone I loved. On the other, I always strived to be the loyal friend Harry needed, the one whom he could trust. Who was I to let him down now?

And so I replied, although hoping with all my heart it would never come down to this, “I promise.”

Harry gave me a relieved smile, and so we stood up, arms around one another, and made our way back to the party.

2. Chapter Two

“You're…what?” came two shocked voices. Harry and I exchanged looks. This was what we had feared…the two not accepting our new relationship.

Ron was glaring at Harry while Ginny glared at me. Our best friends were suddenly our worst enemies, and so we went to face them.

“How dare you!” Ginny exclaimed, once I had dragged her away from the party, stamping a foot. “How dare you just go in there and steel him away from me. You destroyed us!”

“Ginny!” I cried out in despair. “There was no `us' between you two! He broke up with you, Gin!”

“He would have gotten back together with me after Voldemort was dead.” Ginny's eyes were ablaze.

“You know bloody well that's not true,” I hissed, surprised by my own daring to curse.

Ginny looked taken aback. Finally, she mustered, “That's why you told me to get over him in my fourth year! So you could have him all to yourself.”

“Don't be thick,” I said, looking disgusted. “Of course not.”

“Well, it certainly wasn't to get me together with him, was it?” Ginny asked me, her voice getting louder each second.

“Don't cause a scene!” I whispered. “Look, you're right. I…I wanted you to leave him alone, all right? It was clear that you were only in love with the idea of him, Ginny. Of being with the most famous man in the wizarding world.”

Ginny looked absolutely furious. “That is not—”

“Look,” I interrupted, in what I was sure was an annoyingly patient air. “You didn't love Harry, Ginny. You never loved him. You mistook admiration for love. I loved him, Ginny! I love him now!”

“How dare you insist that you love him more than I did - more than I do? Ginny explained in an insulted tone.

“What have you ever done for him, Ginny?” I asked suddenly.

“What are you talking about?” Ginny said, looking as if my question makes no sense.

“What have you done for Harry, Ginerva? In our first year, you goggled at him as the train left the station, according to Ron.”

“That's not fair!” cried Ginny. “I didn't go to Hogwarts then!”

I chose to ignore what she said, as my response would not have been diplomatic, and I wanted to remain in that stance, at least for now. I continued, as if I was telling a story and not accusing her of anything. “In second year, you were the reason why he went into the Chamber of Secrets - I was one of the reasons he survived. I was the one researching until the crack of dawn to find the creature. The muggleborn, who knew that while on her own she could well be the next victim.”

“I was possessed, Hermione,” Ginny spat at me, taking a step closer to me. “I couldn't do anything about that. That was all Lucius Malfoy's doing, and you know it.”

“You're right,” I acknowledge her. “But what about all the other years? How have you ever been there for him?”

“I took his place as seeker in your sixth year when he couldn't make the game, and won it for him!” Ginny told me haughtily.

I stared at her in disbelief. “That has nothing to do with this, Ginny!”

“What have you ever done that has made him grin ear to ear?” Ginny asked me haughtily.

“The DA,” I said firmly.

“DA?” Ginny laughed. “That wasn't—”

“It was my idea to start it,” I replied. “Of course, Harry objected immediately, but once we actually went through with it… Just looking at him in the meetings, it was clear how happy he was.”

“It was?” Ginny asked, doubt clearly crossing her mind.

“You never noticed?” I asked in surprised. I thought everyone had noticed how pleased Harry was.

Ginny, at first, kept her head still, until, finally, she shook it no.

I paused for a bit, unsure where to go from here. Did she understand now? Did she see that her devotion to him had been nothing short of, not to sound so cruel, a stalker?

“Would you die for him, Ginny?” I asked her finally.

“What?” Ginny looked confused.

“I asked you if you would die for him.”

“I…well…I mean…” Ginny rambled on.

I closed my eyes.

“Like you would!” Ginny retorted bitingly.

My eyes snapped open. “I've been putting my life on the line for Harry since first year!” I retorted immediately.

“What are you talking—”

“Sorcerer's Stone!” I told her angrily. “I was 12-years-old, Ginny, and I willingly went through chambers with obstacles unknown to me just to make sure he stayed safe! I already explained the Chamber of Secrets to you. The dementors almost killed Harry, Sirius, and me in third year. In fifth year, at the Department of Mysteries—”

“We were both—” Ginny began.

“But I was the one who stayed by him!” I told Ginny, controlling my voice, but all my patience disappearing. “I was the one who almost died that night, Ginny! Twice! And I would do it again in a heartbeat, as long as I knew he was safe!”

Ginny stared at me, unblinkingly. Suddenly, a tear slipped down her cheek.

“Oh, Ginny,” I said, all my anger slipping away. “Gin, I'm so sorry, I didn't…”

“You're right,” Ginny said, as if in a trance. She gave a bitter laugh. “I never cared for him like you did. I thought I did…but I guess I was just deceiving myself.” Ginny wiped away the tear that had crept down to her chin. “I should have known, though,” she sighed. “I should have known what I had with Harry could never compare to what you had with him, even if you were simply friends.”

“Oh, Gin,” I began again.

“Hermione, it's alright,” she told me, forcing a smile. “I'm sorry…I'm sorry for everything I said.”

“I apologize, as well,” I told her sincerely, taking her hand.

“We're still friends…right?” Ginny asked me uncertainly.

“Oh, Ginny!” I laughed, wiping away my own tears. “Of course. Who else will I talk to about normal things that go on in my life? Or about what a prat Ron is? Or how stubborn Harry is acting? Certainly not those two boys.” Ginny laughed as well, and we embraced tightly, as friends should.

Thrilled that Ginny understood, we walked back to the reception, which grew more and more empty each second. Harry was there with Ron, as well. I looked at Harry in search of any sign of reassurance that Ron approved. However, I didn't need any.

“I'm glad for you two,” Ron said immediately, as if nervous that I would hex him.

“Ron?” I asked in confusion. “I thought—”

Ron took a deep breath. “Yes, I had a thing for you Hermione,” Ron explained. “But after sixth year, I realized that thing had always been as a sister.”

“Truly?” I asked, brimming with happiness.

“Truly,” Ron replied earnestly. He hesitated, and then continued. “And, look, I'm so sorry for how I treated you… I was just really bad when it comes to dealing with girls I fancy…or rather thought I fancied.”

“I know,” I said with a grin. “It's fine.”

And it truly was. Ron's feelings for me were platonic, Ginny understood why Harry and I should be a couple, and I was in love.

Life wasn't just all right. It was wonderful.

But five months later, life was proving difficult.

“Get out of here, Hermione,” a voice warned me fiercely. I looked to my right and found Lupin pressing me back by means of his hand. “Join the others outside.”

“Professor,” I interjected, but he cut me off.

“Hermione, you've helped by finding it,” he told me. “This last one…it's not like the others.”

“I'm not going to stand here and let Harry do it himself,” I growled, taking another insistent step forward.

Lupin, for the first time in my life, gave me a steely glare, and I realized that, to be of any more help, it was of great importance that I let Harry handle this - alone. Crossing my arms in anger at the idea that, in actuality, all I would be doing consisted of standing there as Harry put his life on the line, I followed the orders given to me by Lupin.

“I hate this,” Ginny moaned, sitting on the ground and plucking at the blades of grass. “Why do they always treat us as if we're of no help? We've done so much before!”

Ron sighed. “I guess they feel we're just interfering at the moment.”

“Interfering?” Ginny exclaimed. “Oh, well then, it was just interfering when we went to the Department of Mysteries or when we fought off the Death Eaters in sixth year, was it?”

“I'm not saying I agree,” Ron snapped at her impatiently. “I'm just saying that's probably what's going through their minds.”

“You don't have to be so rude to me,” Ginny hissed. “I mean—”

“Just stop it, the both of you!” I exclaimed, whipping my head around to interrupt this incessant arguing. “There's nothing we can do to change the fact that we're not needed right now, alright? I want to be there as much as any of you, but we don't have a choice in the matter!” Angry, I walked away from the shocked Weasleys and found my own spot, a solace from the bickering.

After about ten minutes, Lupin came out, followed by Harry, who looked simply horrible. His eyes were drooping from exhaustion, his hair was all over the place - hundreds of times messier than usual - and he looked as if he was about to drop dead, then and there. I rushed over to him.

“How'd it go?” I asked, rather timidly.

“It's done,” Harry said, closing his eyes. “The sixth horcrux is gone, which means there's only one left.”

“Voldemort,” I whispered, to which Harry nodded without much conviction.

“So my next step is to go after him,” Harry told me, yawning.

“You mean <i>our</i> next step,” I said quickly and firmly. “<i>Our</i>.”

Harry gave me a pleading look. “Hermione…”

“No,” I said, planting myself in front of him. “No. I told you already Harry. I'm not going to sit back. You said you knew I couldn't do that. Don't tell me you've forgotten who I am.”

Again, Harry closed his eyes, but this time he rubbed his temples with his fingers. “I know who you are, Hermione,” he said slowly. “I guess it was wishful thinking.”

“Everything will turn out fine,” I told him stubbornly, although I only half-believed it myself. “You'll see. And we'll all live happily ever after. Or, well, as close as one can get.”

“Meaning a miserable life?” Harry asked with a laugh.

I glared at him. “That's not funny,” I said. “That's not funny at all.”

Harry gave me a weak smile, and it hit me once more how tired he was.

“Come on, Harry,” I said gently, taking his arm, “let's get inside. You need some rest.” Harry, wordlessly, allowed me to lead him inside and upstairs. Ron and Ginny followed, and after arriving at Harry and Ron's room, Ginny and I left Harry in Ron's care.

I followed Ginny into our room and collapsed on the bed. I was emotionally drained, at this point, and wanted nothing more than to sleep for an eternity. However, Ginny's voice stopped me.

“Hermione?”

I closed my eyes for a second, and then, with all my will power, pushed myself up so I was facing my red headed friend.

“Yes, Gin?” I looked over at her and saw, to my great surprise, fear in her eyes. In fact, she looked almost terrified.

“Hermione,” she said again, and then trailed off.

“Gin, what is it?” I asked her worriedly, walking over to her.

“Are you…are you ever scared?” Ginny asked me finally. “Scared by all of this?”

“Of course I am,” I told her softly, sitting next to her. “I'm worrying constantly. How could I not be?”

Ginny sighed. “I don't know. I mean, it was a rather stupid question, honestly. I just…I've been so afraid lately. Afraid of what's going to happen to us, and to-to Harry.”

“We're going to be fine,” I said determinedly. “And Harry will come out of this perfectly well, and then Voldemort will be dead.” Ginny looked as if she doubted what I said, but I kept a resolute face. I knew perfectly well that, in fact, the exact opposite could happen of what I said, but I wasn't willing to believe it.

I needed to keep myself in the world where everyone is fine. Where Harry is fine. Where Harry will always be there.

Whether I would admit it or not, I was trapped in my own little world of pretense. And I wasn't getting out of there any time soon.