Stolen Life

Cherry

Rating: PG
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 30/04/2006
Last Updated: 30/04/2006
Status: completed

Sometimes it's the decisions of others we regret the most.

Chapters

1. untitled

1. untitled

It’s me again and I have a small one-shot here, just to show that I’m still alive. I know I promised to update Pheromone, My Lovely and I will. But I’m stomping on a writer’s block…and real life still is rather hectic for me. So, it might take a while. But I will update. Honest!

Now, about this fic. I wrote this after hearing a lecture about drinking and driving. Now, I don’t drink myself (unless you call drinking-out-of-dad’s-glass-and-going “Ugh! That taste awful! -as drinking, of course) but this lecture still made me think and I decided to write this.

Now, I’m sure that this fic won’t do any good at all, but if I get one of you who read this to actually think twice before driving a car after drinking, then I’m happy. That’s all I want. Please, think twice.

Enjoy and please review.

-Cherry

Warning - involves character’s death.

Stolen Life

This wasn’t the way it was suppose to end.

Harry choked back a sob, squeezing her hand in his own. He desperately tried to blink back the tears which threatened to come.

She’d managed to survive the war. They were suppose to move in together. Get married. He’d survived because of her. This was suppose to be his happy ending.

It. Wasn’t. Supposed. To. Be. This. Way.

She looked so peaceful. The sun shone upon her hair, creating the illusion of a goddess-like glow. Her face looked at peace in a way he’d never seen before, it was relaxed. Completely relaxed, almost as if she was asleep. Her eyes was closed, something which he was happy for. He’d never survive seeing her eyes. Those eyes he loved seeing every day, usually filled with happiness, compassion, knowledge and - most of all - love beyond boundaries…

But seeing them simply blank, staring at something unseen…glaring at him for not being there. For being unable to save her…

Seeing her dead eyes would force him into accepting the unacceptable. Hermione was dead, and she always would be.

He released her hand, burying his face into his hand as he sobbed. He was supposed to be there for her. Always. He was supposed to be the hero…and yet he couldn’t even save the one he loved the most.

His Hermione.

After all she’d been through… Those years in Hogwarts, the war, Voldemort… She’d survived it all.

She’d been on her way back home, carrying groceries over the road. She’d been smiling, smiling at him. And he’d smiled back and waved, about to go outside to help her carry the bags.

It had all happened so quickly.

The sounds of screeching tires, glass shattering, cans dropping.

He’d rushed out, through the door, the world passing through in a blur. He couldn’t even remember how he’d managed to make their outer door explode.

The next he remembered all too clearly. He was kneeing beside her, her blood coloring his blue shirt black, but he didn’t care. He lifted her, her body limp in his arms. And he’d cried, screaming on the top of his lungs.

The driver had been chocked but otherwise fine. Hermione, on the other hand, died instantly.

Killed by a drunk driver.

It seemed almost anticlimactic.

Killed by something as silly as a man who’d made the wrong decision. A decision he’d regret for the rest of his life.

Harry gave her cold hand a last squeeze. “Nurse?” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

The nurse looked up from the window. “Yes?” she replied.

“Could you find a blanket?” he was still whispering, his eyes never leaving Hermione.

“A-a blanket?”

“Yes,” he looked up, meeting the nurse’s gaze for the first time. “She can’t sleep without a thick blanket. She told me that… And all you’ve given her is a thin sheet.”

The older nurse looked down, breaking their gaze. The anguish in his green eyes was almost too much to bear. “Yes,” she said, her voice soft. “I’ll find you a blanket.” She walked out, returning only a few moments later with a thicker blanket. “Here.”

Harry accepted the blanket wordlessly. He sobbed, covering his lost love with the blanket carefully, as if she still was alive. As if she was only napping. “There you, go, Hermione. You’ll sleep a lot better now.” He kissed her cheek softly, his warm tears dripping over her cheeks. “Sleep tight, Hermione. When you wake up, we’ll have all time in the world together. All the time in the world…”