Nothing Left To Say

Harry watched the sun set over the horizon and sighed. It seemed like years since they left the Burrow. Ron, injured in the latest hunt, was on his way back to the Burrow. They couldn’t afford to bring someone wounded along, and Ron understood that. Hermione, however, had stayed.

Harry secretly thought she didn’t trust him to be alone. No one did. After all, his future wasn’t something to be looked forward to. Sometimes, he even thought she had good reason to not trust him to be alone.

Hermione and Ron had bickered constantly through the journey. To be honest, he was relieved for the break from the arguing. He supposed their fighting was centered around him. Last year, maybe even six months ago, he would have felt guilty about splitting them up. Everyone claimed they were perfect for each other. Now – he just felt tired.

“Crack!” The noise rang through the air – too loud in the still silence. Harry spun around to face the oncoming threat. Hermione stood there, her eyes wide and her stance frozen. They stared at each other in shock for a second.

Hermione began to blabber apologies. “Harry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you wanted to be alone.”

Harry smiled tiredly. “It’s all right, Hermione. I didn’t really want to be alone.” Hermione glanced carefully at him.

“Are you sure?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I only came because I thought this was important. It’s a letter from Remus.”

Harry’s eyes dulled. “Give it here.” Silently, Hermione handed him the worn parchment. He opened it, flattening the creases against his thigh. Slowly, he read through the elegant script. His intuition was right. This wasn’t good news.

He folded the letter carefully and tucked it into his jeans. Then he buried his face in his hands, rubbing his eyelids with the heels of his hands. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Hermione’s concerned face.

“What’s wrong, Harry? What did Remus say?” she asked concernedly.

Harry said quietly, “Several things. They still haven’t found Snape yet, and Remus suspects that his betrayal is the reason for the sudden attacks a few weeks ago. Snape knew close to everything there was to know about the Order; there’s no way we can protect ourselves if he’s siding with Voldemort.”

Hermione interrupted, “Harry, what are you talking about? Voldemort already knew about the prophecy, the Horcruxes, and the location of the Headquarters. How can he hurt us?”

Harry looked up at her with pained eyes. “Snape’s telling Voldemort about all the people close to me. Ginny’s hurt, and Ron was attacked even further after he got home. No one, no place is safe anymore, Hermione.”

Hermione was silent. Harry said curtly, “Go home, Hermione. It’s dangerous. This is my duty.”

She snapped, “Shut up, Harry. We’ve been through this a thousand times. Ron and I are your friends. It’s our duty to help you with your duties. I’m not leaving.” She laughed bitterly. “If I really cared about danger, I would have stopped talking to you the minute after you fought off Professor Quirrell in first year.”

Harry said bluntly, “You should be home with Ron. This could be your last time together, Hermione. War is not a predictable thing…you may not have as much time as you need.” His throat tightened with some strange emotion and he swallowed quickly.

Hermione hesitated. “Ron is my best friend, Harry. I love him. In sixth year, I probably was in love with him. Spending this time with him while we were hunting for Horcuxes changed something, though. He’s my best friend and I love him…but we can’t live with each other. We are too similar in all the wrong ways: we’re both stubborn, we’re both protective, we’ve both got tempers, we’re both jealous. It would never work, not for a lifetime, not in the terms of a marriage. It’s over. It finished just before he left to go back to the Burrow.”

Harry fought the floating sensation in his stomach. He <i>knew</i> that it wasn’t right to be happy about this; both Ron and Hermione were probably hurting. However, seeing Ron with Hermione had always bothered Harry on some level. He supposed it was a bit selfish of him. He didn’t want to be alone, and that’s what he was when his two best friends were together.

Hermione asked patiently, “How are you and Ginny doing, Harry?”

Harry laughed. “Well, you know how it went at Dumbledore’s funeral. I went off to hunt for Voldemort, and she wasn’t surprised. When it came down to it, I had always saved the world before I thought about her. We’re done. I can’t expect her to wait for me when I don’t even know if I’ll be alive at the end of this. I don’t want her to be with me; I don’t want her dead.”

Hermione’s head bowed slightly. “I’m sorry, Harry.”

Harry sighed and reached out, taking her face in his hands and bringing her eyes up to meet his. “So am I, Hermione. I’m sorry about you and Ron – and about me and Ginny.”

He fell silent when he saw her tears. He asked no questions. He simply wrapped his arms around her and let her cry into his shoulder. After her shoulders stopped shaking, he pulled back.

Quietly, he asked, “Why?”

Hermione looked out at the darkening sky. “So many things.” She glanced at him for a second and then turned back to the sky. “I know that I’m going to lose people I love, and I don’t know how to say goodbye. It just feels pointless, so hopeless. I know I’m going to lose friends…so what am I fighting for?”

Harry didn’t look at her as he replied, but he could feel her eyes on his face. “You're fighting because people you love will survive. You're fighting so that they won't have to live the rest of their lives in pain. You’re fighting for the memories of the ones you lose, and for the futures of the ones that survive. You keep fighting for them…all of them..”

Hermione said quietly, “There’s so many things I haven’t said that I need to. There are so many people I need to laugh with, to talk with, to forgive.”

Harry said bluntly, “Life’s always like that. There’s always more to do – otherwise, what would be the point in living? Say the things you need to say when you think of them. That’s all you can do.”

Hermione said softly, “I’m worried about you, Harry.”

Harry smiled at her reassuringly, “I know. You all are. I’m fine, I promise.”

Hermione’s eyes flashed in the moonlight. “Damn it, Harry, don’t lie to me! Don’t disrespect our friendship like that.” Her face softened. “If you are fine, then God help us all. You wouldn’t have a heart if you were still all right, after all of this.”

Harry said adamantly, “I have to be all right, Hermione. I have to do my duty.”

Hermione murmured, “You can’t be strong all the time, Harry. That’s why there are people who are willing to be strong for you. You can afford to be weak sometimes. You have to bend with the burden, or it will break you.” She turned him to face her. “None of us think you are a superhero.”

Harry laughed. “I’m just expected to save the world as we know it, that’s all.”

Hermione shook her head stubbornly. “You’re supposed to do your duty. None of it involves letting no one see you hurt.” She whispered, “Would Sirius want to see you hard and cold? Would Dumbledore think what you’re doing now is right?”

Harry walked away and said coldly, “Hermione, don’t push your luck.”

She stood there proudly. “You may push me away, Harry, but you can’t push away the truth. I know you’re hurting. I know that you are not fine.” She said urgently, “It’s okay to cry, Harry.”

She stood watching his back until she saw his shoulders tremble. There was no sound as she glided up behind him to wrap her arms around his waist. Laying her cheek against his broad shoulders, she could hear his silent shudders of pain.

In the cool starlight, she found her own pain, letting it wash down her cheeks in a silent stream. She cried for love. [i]Would Ron and her have made it if it weren’t for the stress of the War?[/i] She cried for dreams. [i]Harry had wanted to be an Auror. Would he get to do that now?[/i]

Finally, eyes blinded by tears and arms searching for something to hold on to, Harry turned towards her to bury his face in her shoulder and dry his tears with her skin. She embraced him just as tightly, trying to soothe his pain. Somehow, in the silver moonlight, she found the words she needed to say.

“I love you, Harry.”

Shutting her eyes against the stars, she knew that this, amid all the wrongness of War, was right. When his lips found hers and his arms tightened around her waist, she wondered why no one had ever seen it. Then she realized it didn’t matter. They had found each other before it was too late. As she wrapped her arms around his neck and lost herself inside of him, she knew.

She had said all she needed to.

---