Unselfish

Kaykos

Rating: R
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 15/06/2003
Last Updated: 15/06/2003
Status: completed

It's Harry's final day. He's starving for spare moments lent by time, and he gets them by running. He runs back to her for one goodbye, though she won't stand for being left behind. They march together out into the battlefield, what will happen?

Chapters

1. Unselfish

1. Unselfish

Unselfish

Harry ran. He was running as fast as he could, curses streaming over his head. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears, his blood rising. The hairs on his arms pricked up with fear, adrenaline pumping his body. She was the only thing that kept him running. He wouldn’t let himself die without saying goodbye first.

His breath became short and quick, his hair flying in his face. He refused to leave her. A cold chill zoomed up his spine as he jumped over rocks, flying down the hill on his feet. He felt cowardly running, but pushed it out of his head, thinking of her face, her smile. His heart dropped knowing he wouldn’t see her again after that night. Harry was determined to think he was being punished, but stopped abruptly upon reaching a tattered muggle baseball bat.

With a sigh he reached down, touching the bat. A hook seemed to attach itself to the inside of his nose, pulling his entire body backwards. He caught a glimpse of hooded men streaming down the hill after him, but saw no more. He was consumed into a state of between, zooming through blackness and cold. He held his breath, hands closing in on his glasses. He couldn’t stand to breathe while he was between; the cold air froze his throat, burning his insides from top to bottom. As soon as he had been drug in, he was propelled out.

Gasping for breath on all fours, Harry sat like a dog on the floor of the Gryffindor common room, his hands catching at his throat for breath. His hair, ringing of sweat, fell over his face. He felt two soothing hands wrapping themselves under his chest. Those hands were so familiar; hours of holding them day after day had made him acquainted with their fragile slenderness.

Harry bent his head down further, kissing the gentle fingers, holding them to his face. He sat up, looking into the eyes of the person who mattered most. Her chocolate eyes sparkled with tears, looking back into his own. She threw herself upon him, her weight knocking him to the floor. They sat tangled on the rug, clutching to each other desperately.

Tiny sobs radiated from her mouth; her chest shaking with every breath she took in. Pushing her bushy brown hair away from her face, she kissed his cheek lightly, feeling his tears mix into a pool with her own.

"I thought you weren’t ever coming back to me," she shuddered into his chest. He pulled her close, running his fingers soothingly through her hair.

"I would never leave you, Hermione," Harry whispered into the top of her head. She smiled into his chest, wrapping her arm around his back, pulling him closer to her.

"It’s good to hear your voice," she grinned closing her eyes, taking in his scent. He smelled of pine and rain. She let out a soft sigh, resting her head on the rug. She rolled away from him, standing up. He followed her, slowly getting to his bruised feet.

He stood up right, causing her to gasp. His shirt was torn in various places, blood running down his arm. Her hand went to his, feeling the calluses on his once smooth hands. She looked down, seeing that they were crusted over with a crimson color.

"Harry, what happened?" Hermione asked bemused, her brow furrowing in concern. He tried to wave it away as if it was nothing, but she wouldn’t have it. Stomping her foot on the floor in indignation she demanded to know.

"I just ran into a few Death Eaters, okay?" he snapped, turning his cold back to her. She gasped, placing her hand over her mouth. She reached out to touch Harry’s shoulder, but he twisted away.

She flinched, recoiling her hand. "I’m sorry Harry," He snapped around, his green eyes fierce. She remained standing where she was, biting her bottom lip nervously.

"I’m just tired of saving the world, Hermione. I don’t want to do it anymore; I just want to be with you. Screw everything else, I don’t give a damn. You’re all that matters to me!" he cried, placing his hand on her cheek. A sudden gleam lit in his eyes. "Run away with me, no one will know where we are and we could live in peace and solitude for the rest of our lives! Think about it, a house in the suburbs, a white picket fence, and our own little clan of witches and wizards…" Harry trailed off, desperate for her to go with him.

Hermione chewed on her lip, gazing at the seriousness of his expression. Slowly, she shook her head no.

"Do you think this is what Ron gave his life for, to watch you back out now?" she asked, her eyes narrowed, searching Harry’s. He turned his head down, away from her so she wouldn’t see his tears. "Harry, this is what you were born for, this is your destiny. Don’t run from it, face it head on. Everyone is depending on you, and that includes me." Hermione stated firmly, taking a step towards him, reaching out to him again. This time he didn’t refuse her.

She turned him around, closing his lips with her own. She pressed her lips to his firmly, deepening their kiss. Her heart fluttered in her chest, her hands wrapping themselves about his neck. He placed his hands on her cheeks, hoping she know how much he cared for her. Both of their tears tumbled down their cheeks, blending into the mix of their kiss, making the irony of it all a reality. They pulled away, foreheads resting against each other.

Harry closed his eyes, pressing his lips tightly together. "All right Hermione, I’ll do it. I’ll do it for you and Ron," he sighed painfully. She could fell the sorrow he felt; it was like a stake slowly pushing into her skin, twisting slowly to cause as much pain as possible.

He pulled away from her, grabbing a cloak that rested on a near by chair, knowing what he had to do, knowing what he was about to sacrifice. Hermione gasped, the reality hitting her like a bludger in the stomach. Harry, the one she would give up anything for, was going to die.

He paused, walking back over to her, fingering something inside the cloak’s pocket. Harry pulled out a tiny golden band. It was a ring, engraved with their names on the insides.

"Promise me, that when I come back you’ll marry me," he smiled, holding out the ring to her. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she accepted the ring, nodding her head. He turned his back once more, about to step out of the common room, but stopped upon hearing her voice.

"I’m coming with you!" she gasped suddenly, grasping her own cloak in one hand, her wand in the other. Harry stopped, walking over, taking the things out of her hands.

"No you’re not,"

"The hell I’m not! I’m your friend for a reason Harry, I’m supposed to be with you until the bitter end, and that’s what I’m going to do. Just because you can do this alone doesn’t mean I’ll let you." She stomped her foot on the ground, picking her things back up.

"I won’t let you, I love you too much," he grumbled staring into her eyes. She stared back, refusing to turn away.

"Oh, get off your high horse Harry. The world wants you to lay down your life for them, but who will lay down their life for you to ensure that you can do it? Ron’s not here to do it, and everyone else is too cowardly. Don’t you get it? This is my destiny; let me accomplish what I was meant to, just like I’m letting you do. Don’t be selfish Harry. I know how hard it is to let someone you love walk off to meet death; it’s what I’m doing now. So either you let me come so that you can protect me, or I’ll follow you and have a much more painful death." Hermione boomed; her arms crossed tightly about her chest in a manner, which said she wasn’t budging.

Harry sighed in defeat, hanging his head. He reached out his hand to her, feeling guilt settle in the pits of his stomach. If she was going to come, he would want to be there to protect her. Softly, she smiled, kissing the palm of his hand as they marched out to meet death together. She felt an odd twist in her stomach, knowing her true purpose. Dumbledore had told her not too long ago.

***

"Please sit down Miss. Granger," Dumbledore had said once she was in his office. She obeyed, sitting down in the leather chair.

"I understand you and Mr. Potter an item, correct?" he asked, his eyebrow twisting up into his forehead. Hermione had nodded, looking at him with no idea as to where he could be taking this other than how she was caught with Harry in a broom closet the previous night. A bright blush spread across her cheeks. Dumbledore pretended not to notice.

"You realize that it will be this year that he will leave us forever, do you not?" he asked, a sad look in his eyes. Hermione gulped, nodding her head, tears welling up in her eyes.

"This may come as a shock, but Harry will need you while he is out there. Without you, he will not succeed." Hermione gasped, blinking her eyes as if she did not understand. She watched as Dumbledore heaved a sigh and continued. "Are you prepared to give up everything to help him?" he mumbled, holding his words to see her expression. It did not change, she only nodded.

"I understand Professor, tell me what I have to do," she meekly replied, looking contently at her headmaster. He smiled warmly at her, proceeding to tell her how she must go about preparing for that night.

***

She looked up at Harry’s sullen face, placing her finger on his cheekbone, tracing down a path to his lips. He turned around, kissing her finger.

"Remember, no matter what, I love you," he whispered, kissing her forehead. She nodded, opening the main doors of the castle. Outside rested a safe portkey Dumbledore had assembled for them. She looked up at Harry, nodding. They both reached down, grabbing the portkey in unison.

Harry attached himself to Hermione as he was thrown into the darkness, his hands gripping to her waist. He thought bitterly about how his last moments with her would be as he was hurdled out into a vast field.

When he turned to look at her, she had her wand drawn, a determined look on her face. She didn’t look at him, but was busy scanning the area for any Death Eaters. She took a quiet step forward, motioning for him to follow.

"I’m almost positive he’s up this way," she sighed, taking another careful step forward. "I can feel him."

Hermione turned back, something catching her eye. She gasped, throwing herself in front of Harry, belting out the death curse as it hit her square in the chest. Harry turned down, looking deep into her eyes.

Surprisingly, she coughed; her eyes opened to slits. Harry gaped at her in amazement, but she silenced him with a finger to his lips.

"I drank a potion, and you did too," she coughed, blood spilling from her mouth. Harry kneeled down, cradling her head in his lap. "You have to do this Harry, I won’t be here when you come back, but you have to promise me to go through with this. Kill him, don’t show him any mercy," she whispered, turning to cough again, little clots of blood choking her on the way up her throat. Harry bent over her head, tears dripping down his face into hers.

"I have to get you somewhere. If you lasted this long, they can help you," he sobbed, wiping the tears from his face.

"No," she croaked. "I took this so I could tell you not to. Please, meet me in heaven Harry. I’ll wait for you." She said, her breath swelling up in her breast. Her body became limp in his arms; her eyes open, still holding the pleading look they held when she drew breath. Harry laid her soft body on the ground, kissing her brow lightly.

"I promise you, I won’t let him get away with this," Harry sobbed, tears rolling down his cheeks like rivers. He knelt crumpled on the ground, his tears washing over her body.

Something from his body suddenly left him, like a heavy burden was lifted. He did not care about killing anyone anymore he just wanted revenge. A violence erupted inside Harry that could not be explained. When he looked up, his eyes held a malice no man had seen before. Harry swiftly stood up, placing one step in front of the other. He was going to finish this.

His scar began to burn, causing pain to course through his skin, though his bones; but he did not care, he just kept walking. His head began to feel light, his mind fogging up. Harry closed his eyes for a brief moment, but when he opened them he was no longer in the field, but in a closed room.

His eyes flicked quickly about the room, his hands balled into fists beside him, his wand in one hand. He was alert, and did not even jump when he saw Voldemort staring at him cooly.

"So we meet again Mr. Potter," he drawled, smiling, showing two neat fangs. Harry narrowed his eyes, pulling out his wand, but Voldemort had his drawn as well.

"Reflexes not what they used to be eh boy?" he cackled, his blood red eyes fixed on it’s prey. In one fowl swoop Harry had his wand at the ready, pointing directly at Voldemort.

"CRUCIO! You will pay for what you did to her," he spat, his spell hitting Voldemort directly in the chest. The dark lord did not flinch, nor did he writhe on the ground in pain, and he did nothing but smile.

Harry felt his strength draining out of his body, jerking his wand up. In that moment, Voldemort had Harry shaking uncontrollably on the ground. Harry concentrated on other things than the pain. Ron’s face swam into his head.

"Buck up old chap!" his voice echoed in Harry’s conscious. A tear fell down Harry’s cheek, as what seemed to be a million hot knives twisted themselves about his body. He saw his mother’s face accompanied by his father’s, and finally Hermione’s smiling face appeared.

Harry was shaking, but not out of pain, out of rage. He could feel the ground beneath him shake with a tremendous boom, the spell suddenly lifting from his body. Harry’s eyes, blood shot, turned to Voldemort. He extended his hand towards the robed slime, feeling something warm and powerful surge through his arm.

The warmth spread through each finger down to the tips. He felt as if he was about to fall over. Voldemort, seeing what was happening, screamed out ‘avada kedavara’, but to his astonishment, Harry did not fall, only stumbled backwards, but he regained his balance soon enough.

A soft green light grew at the ends of his fingers, shooting like thousands of daggers at the Dark lord. Harry watched him squirm to the ground as the multiple killing curses shot through him.

Harry mustered up a laugh seeing his enemy finally fall at his feet, a look of pure horror spread across Voldemort’s face right before he died. Harry, feeling suddenly weak, dropped to his knees, looking down at his hands. They were spilling blood at the fingertips. He laughed to himself, lying down on the ground.

"I’m coming Hermione," he smiled, his eyes closing abruptly, his body relaxing on the cold wooden floor.