Selfish

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and all of her people. The songs are not mine either. “Goodbye My Lover” by James Blunt. “Probably Wouldn't Be This Way” by Leann Rimes. “Something I Never Had” by Lindsay Lohan. “Little House” by The Fray. “Am I The Only One(Whose Ever Felt This Way)” by the Dixie Chicks. “Last Day Of My Life” by Phil Vassar.

Warnings: This story contains major character deaths and suicide.

A/N: This is my first Harry Potter story and I'm very nervous about it. Not to mention that with what this story contains, I'm even more nervous because of it. If I cause offense to anyone then I sincerely apologize, for that was not my intention at all. The idea for this story simply came to me and I felt the need to write it. I hope that it does not come off as childish or naïve, and please tell me if it does. Well, read on I guess and please post a review. I won't know otherwise if it came across as I hoped it would. If I did not deal with this issue sensitively enough or my writing skills, little that they are, are not strong enough to write about something as serious as this then please tell me. Once again, I'm sorry if I offend anyone

xxx

“Harry Potter was loved by many. Some knew of him as the “Boy-Who-Lived”, others as the “Savior-of-the-Wizarding-World”. And some, some knew of him as just Harry. He was their friend and their confidant; he was someone they could go to with their troubles…”

As you listen to the minister speak about Harry, you never really hear what he is saying. You are too focused on keeping your tears at bay, and holding in the soul-ripping pain and sorrow that you have kept yourself from truly feeling in the few short days since his death. You have blanketed yourself in numbness, a numbness that you and the others around you all rely on. The people surrounding you, the people who are supposed to be your friends and family, all expect you to still be the same levelheaded Hermione from your Hogwarts' days. But how can that be? How is it possible for you to still be the same girl who thought expulsion was worse than death? How can it be, when you have just lost the most important person in your life? You gave your heart, body, and soul to the man who now lies in the front of the room, seated comfortingly in a black coffin. But yet everyone surrounding you- Ron, Ginny, the rest of the Weasley's, and the whole of the wizarding world -expect you to keep it together and be their strength. You have spent the past few days making funeral arrangements, talking to the press, and comforting those who need comforting. You are still good old Hermione to them, the girl who would help them with their Potion's homework or their Transfiguration essay when ever they needed it. But they know nothing of the truth.

They don't understand what it is that you have lost. They saw you as Harry and Hermione, the best of friends. They never would have associated the words `soul mate' or `true love' with your names. None of them knew that the two of you had been lovers for six months before he passed, not even your mutual best friend Ron. It was hidden from everyone for fear of what Voldemort might do if he were ever to find out. Harry was afraid, afraid of what might happen to you if the enemy ever got word of the strength of his feelings for you. You meant too much to him and he knew he wouldn't be able to go on if something had ever happened to you; if you had died. He often told you he would give his life for you, to protect you. You were his reason for fighting; he would defeat Voldemort, if only it gave you the chance to have a life without fear. A life with happiness and love; a life filled with children and white picket fences. He wanted you to know a life of peace and contentment, joy and laughter. But two words, two words uttered by a man in the final seconds of his life, shattered that dream. For what is life without Harry?

xxx

Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.

xxx

Some days, it feels as though he were never there. Never did you see those emerald eyes, or that untidy, black hair. You cannot remember the sound of his laughter, or the feel of his lips on your mouth. The way he would run his fingers through your curls and then brush his hand against your cheek is just but a distant memory. You will never see that smile, that secret smile that only you know about, and get weak in the knees ever again. There are no more butterflies or flip flops in your stomach; no more flutters of the heart and breaths catching in your throat. All of that is in the past now, along with the memories of a late headmaster and a godfather that fell through a veil. There are no more kisses tasting of pumpkin pie; you can no longer embrace him and feel as though you are holding your entire world in your arms.

Sometimes you feel like it was all a dream, just some fantasy you got caught up in and made yourself believe. But then, then you feel that ache deep in your soul and you know that it had to be real. Because sometimes, you do still remember the feeling of his lips on yours. There are moments when you slip into the land of memories, memories that are filled with secret snogs and midnight rendezvous, and still remember his smell. Some days you can still see his face when he first told you he loved you, that he was in love with you. You were surprised, not because you thought he did not for you already knew that he had, but because there was not even the slightest hint of nervousness in his voice. He stated it like it was a simple fact, as though he were telling you that the weather was nice that day. You expected him to get nervous, to act like the same 15 year old boy who got choked up talking to Cho Chang in fifth year. But there was no nervousness, no embarrassment; just a simple `I'm in love with you'. That was it. There was no grand pronouncement, no speech about how you and he could never be together despite your feelings for one another. Just five simple words, said in the quiet of the night while your other best friend was busy sleeping. Five simple words that now mean the world to you; words that you long to hear spoken from the mouth of your lover just once more.

xxx

I probably wouldn't be this way
I probably wouldn't hurt so bad
I never pictured every minute without you in it
Oh You left so fast
Sometimes I see you standing there
Sometimes it's like I'm losing touch
Sometimes I feel that I'm so lucky to have had the chance to love this much
God gave me a moment's grace
'Cause if I'd never seen your face
I probably wouldn't be this way

xxx

You cut yourself off from the rest of the world. You can't stand to see them, they are all reminders of what you have lost. Every time you see a couple walking down the street hand-in-hand or parents playing with their children you feel the bile rising in your throat and you softly lay your hand over your abdomen. You can't help but to think `Harry and I were supposed to have had that'. You found out a month after his death that you were carrying his child. You never told anyone, you wanted to let it sink in before you had to explain to the others about what had gone on between you and Harry. You knew they were going to feel betrayed; Ron will have thought you should have told him instead of hiding it, Ginny will have thought you went behind her back and stole her boyfriend. It would have taken them a while to finally understand the extent to which yours and Harry's feelings had truly run.

But you never got the chance. Just one short week after you got the news, you were cursed by one of the few remaining Death Eaters. You were fine, but your baby had not survived. His baby had not survived. You might have just known this baby for one short week, but you loved him just as you loved his father. You could picture his green eyes and bushy hair. You could imagine all the mischief he would get in to as a little boy, all the trouble he would cause once he finally made it to Hogwarts. You knew he would be a powerful wizard, how could he not be after having two of the most powerful people in the world as parents? You cherished this child not only because he was your son, but also because he was his son. He had a part of Harry's heart, soul, and mind. You would be able to look at him and see a part of your lover in his eyes. But that chance is gone now. Once again another dream has been shattered and all because of a wizard who isn't even living anymore. Because of one man, one heartless man, you have lost the love of your life and now also his son.

xxx

Can I close my eyes have you lying here again
Then I come back down
Then I fade back in
Then I realize it's just what might have been.

xxx

You are simply a shell now. You are going through the motions of life, but never really living it. You have lost all your reason for truly living your life; your soul mate, your son. They are both gone now, together in the heavens. The two people you cherished most in the world have left you behind. Left you here to wither away slowly and surely. You let the numbness take over you completely. `It's easier this way' you tell yourself. This way, you can't feel the pain that surrounds you constantly. You think that if you can't feel it then it can't hurt you; but the truth is, it's killing you. The pain is eating at your insides waiting to devour you whole. It's waiting for the day you let your walls down, the day your defenses weaken so it can burst through. It will overwhelm you, consuming you until you break down and let it take over you.

xxx

I'm so hollow, baby, I'm so hollow.
I'm so, I'm so, I'm so hollow.
I'm so hollow, baby, I'm so hollow.
I'm so, I'm so, I'm so hollow.

xxx

The light reflecting off the blade is what catches your eye. Shiny, sharp, and so very tempting. The thought of killing yourself idly crosses your mind, but it does not even faze you. Before, when the thoughts were less common, they used to frighten you. But now, when they are just as much a part of you as your love for he and his child, you never even feel the slightest sense of panic rise up in you. And sometimes, sometimes that is what scares you the most. You begin to wonder how a thought, a thought such as that, can become a normal occurrence in your life. Such a normal occurrence in fact, that it does not even surprise you any more when the thoughts appear as though out of nowhere. How is it that you can be so used to the pull you feel towards the blade? To the slight twinge of pain you feel in your wrists every time you pass a sharp object? How is it that the flood of images, images full of crimson blood, white lips, and slit veins do not even bring a grimace to your pretty face anymore? What has become of the naïve, little bookworm from your Hogwarts' days? Is she still in there somewhere or has she been lost completely? Is she just hidden behind the walls of pain and sorrow, grief and despair?

xxx

She doesn't look, she doesn't see
Opens up for nobody
Figures out, she figures out
Narrow line, she can't decide
Everything short of suicide
Never hurts, nearly works

xxx

You often wonder why you do not just go through with it. Why is it that you cannot bring yourself to end your life, and consequently also your pain in the process? What is it that stops the blade from ever reaching the pale skin of your wrist? Maybe, maybe you are afraid. But afraid of what? Afraid to end your life for all eternity? Of dieing? But no that cannot be it, for you died the same moment he did. Maybe you are afraid of giving up, of showing weakness? You did always feel that anyone who committed such an act as that of suicide was admitting his or her defeat, admitting to the world that they are not strong enough to handle what has been thrown at them. And we all know that Hermione Granger does not admit defeat. But that cannot be it either, for you gave up any pretense of living the moment that stray Death Eater hit you with the curse that killed his, Harry's, child. Maybe it is that one part of you, that one selfless part, that keeps you from taking your own life. The part of you that imagines the faces of your friends- Ron, Ginny, Hagrid -the moment before the blade reaches its destination on your wrist. Maybe it is that one part that knows and acknowledges the pain your passing will cause. There is still a small part of you, such a small part that still realizes you were not the only one to lose him that day. They, your friends, lost him too. He was their friend, their confidant, and their brother. And for you to die, to take your own life, would absolutely devastate them. It would cause them so much sorrow for them to lose yet another friend, especially knowing that there could have been something to prevent this if they had only paid just a little bit more attention to you. If only they had realized just how much his death had shattered you.

xxx

A part of you that'll never show
You're the only one that'll ever know

xxx

You begin to resent them for this. How could they have not noticed that your soul died that day? Could they not see the love you two shared? Have they not seen your exceptionally pale skin, your sunken in eyes, or the ribs protruding from your sides? Have they not caught the fact that you have not smiled a true smile in the months since his death? Will they realize it before it is too late?

You begin to hate them for it. You hate them because they are not Harry, for he would have known what was wrong. He would have seen the hurt in your eyes and the pain in your heart. He would have known the right words to say and when to say them. He would have held you and comforted you all throughout the night while you cried on endlessly. He would be your savior, your Harry. And that is when the guilt comes. Guilt for resenting them, all the while knowing it is not their fault that they cannot be like your Harry. How can they know you like he did? For he was your soul mate, and they are just your friends. Nobody will ever know you like he did; they will not know the warmth of your heart, the contours of your body, or the depth of your soul. It would take them lifetimes to learn what Harry discovered in only eight short years.

xxx

I'm smothered by this emptiness
A heart that's worn and weathered

I see a shadow in the mirror
And she's laughin' through her tears
One more smile's all I can fake

xxx

This time when you feel that all familiar pull towards the blade, you do not resist it. Thoughts of your friends and family are useless now; they cannot protect you, nor do they hinder the movement of your hand. This time the pain is just too overwhelming and you are too weak. You decide to be selfish for once, to do what you truly want to do, and you give in. You do not analyze the situation, or imagine all of the possible outcomes. You do not care about the consequences or what this will cause the others to feel. It is time for you to do what you have been longing to do for months now.

Your mind is swarming with thoughts as the blade gets closer and closer to its destination. When the blade finally reaches the porcelain skin of your wrist and you feel that first pinprick of pain, all the turmoil of your mind starts to fade. Then the crimson starts to flow and all the world turns to black.

xxx

In a moment she was gone, long gone

xxx

A/N2: Ok, so that whole pregnancy/miscarriage just came out of nowhere. I honestly had no idea about it until I got to that point in the story and added it in there. I hope you enjoyed my story and leave a review if you would like to.

-Elisabeth

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