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Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the delightful world and characters of the Harry Potter universe. I just play in her sandbox, so to speak. Don't sue me, ok? ;)
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He was flipping through the pages of his album again. He found himself doing that more and more of late - just watching the images of his parents. His mother holding him up proudly in one picture. His father, unruly hair just like his own, waving at the picture taker. He would never know them. How many times had he gone over scenarios in his head, where they were still alive and together as a family? He had lost count. One thing was for certain though…..the time for dreams was past. In a world where Voldemort was free, and loved ones could become casualties at any moment, there was only room for thoughts of vengeance. Feelings beyond that were something that only led to pain.
Harry stood in the field behind the Burrow, where just hours before he had played Quidditch with Ron, flying on his Firebolt at break-neck speeds, trying desperately to feel ALIVE again. Flying was one of the few things left that he enjoyed. He remembered fondly his own laughter, genuine for the first time in weeks, as Ron had failed miserably while attempting a move called the Calamity Defense. Instead of blocking Harry's quaffle throw, Ron had wound up half off his broom, upside down and looking rather comical.
The moon palely illuminated the field in a half light as Harry silently walked further from the Burrow. The quiet of the evening appealed to him, as did the solitude. He remembered a time not long past where he would have preferred company over solitude.
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Hermione watched him walking across the field from the window in Ginny's room. Although she sat very still, inside her emotions raged unchecked. The rational part of her brain, the one that she had followed her entire life, was fighting a losing battle against her heart. For years, she had kept her feelings in check. The deepest, most staggering secret of her life dangled, hanging by the thin thread of her will that remained.
She loved him. She had loved him since….well, almost as long as she had known him. The rational part of her mind screamed that it was hopeless; their friendship was too firmly cemented in his mind for there to ever be anything else. There was always something going on, something urgent, that prevented her from telling him anyway: The stone, the chamber, Sirius, Pettigrew, the tri-wizard tournament. Always something. Now, with Sirius's death and Harry's depression so deep and horrible, it seemed that once again she wouldn't be able to tell him.
That wasn't all though, she was forced to admit to herself. She was afraid. Harry was one of the very few people who saw past the smart muggle-born girl. He saw HER, in a way that frightened her and excited her. The way he KNEW her was so precious a thing - she couldn't lose it, couldn't lose him. If she spoke now, everything would change. Nothing would ever be the same again. Oh God, what if he rejects me, she thought. She couldn't live with that. Harry had become more important to her than anything else….even, Hermione sometimes thought in wonder, her own life. How many times had she stood at his side, ready to give her own life to save his? It was about more than Voldemort to Hermione now. It was about the happiness of a man that had not seen nearly enough of it in his lifetime. The man she loved. And with that thought, she knew what she must do. She had to act.
Why then was her heart hammering in her chest? Why was she having this internal argument with herself? Hermione knew the answer. She could no longer keep her feelings hidden, not when it meant watching him suffer alone. The tears made their way down her cheeks slowly as she watched Harry walk further and further away. Even his walk was different: not the eager step, so full of life that she loved. Harry walked, and acted, like a man that no longer had the will to live. Like a man who knew he was alone amidst a sea of enemies and heartbreak.
But you're not alone, she thought to herself, her heart making the inevitable decision for her. You'll never be alone again. She was terrified of what she was about to do. What if he pushed her away? What if he didn't return her feelings? What if all this did was cost her the most amazing friendship she had ever known? So be it, she vowed silently. Tonight let the loneliness end, for me… and I pray….for him.
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The night was quiet but for the sound of crickets all around him and the low murmur of the brook he stood beside. Staring into the water, Harry let his thoughts wander. What purpose did his life hold besides defeating Voldemort? Now that he had heard the prophecy, he knew one of them must die. He had few illusions as to which of them it would mostly likely be - the dark lord was older, more powerful, and had a greater knowledge of magic than he. Harry knew he would fight anyway, to protect those he loved as best he could.
But what would happen after, even if Harry somehow didn't die? Which of his friends would still be left when all was said and done? How many more would pay the ultimate price for choosing to care for him, to fight with him, or just by being in the same place at the same time as him, as poor Cedric had? Maybe it would be better for all involved if they had never met him. All he brought with him was pain, and death, and….
"Harry?"
He turned quickly, startled. Standing only a short distance away was his best friend, with an unreadable expression on her face. The moonlight shone down through the trees surrounding the stream, casting her in an almost ethereal glow. Her soft brown eyes were looking at him with an intensity he had never seen before. He was struck, as always, by how naturally beautiful she was; her bushy hair, untamable like his own, her chocolate brown eyes, the quiet courage that he admired so much. I am not worthy of such a friend, he thought, for the millionth time. She is better than I am. She is the best of us. To think, he sometimes dreamed they could be more than just friends. Just by being my friend, she has come close to death on more than one occasion. She has almost died, because of me. Because of ME!
"NO!" He turned; ignoring Hermione's startled expression, and bolted across the stream, soaking himself in the process. Tearing blindly through the trees and undergrowth, Harry Potter ran from himself, from his past, from the pain of his life. Images played across his mind, wildly blending together into a tapestry of memory: Ron knocked unconscious while fighting across the chessboard, Ron with his leg broken while fighting Sirius, the pale face of Cedric Diggory, lying cold and lifeless in the graveyard. Next the images of Hermione came, most vivid of all: Her lifeless; petrified while trying to unravel the mystery of the basilisk, lying unconscious after fighting the death eaters at the ministry…..
It was too much. Weeping openly, Harry stumbled over an overgrown root and fell heavily to the ground, overcome with the images of his past. Why couldn't it all just end, he thought. He could close his eyes, and everything would just go….AWAY.
"Harry….please stop."
It was her voice that calmed him. Like a soothing balm, he let it wash over him, let her presence wash over him. Tears standing in his emerald eyes, he looked up and into the eyes of his friend.
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Such sadness, she thought. Loneliness. No one should have to suffer as he had. She would take that pain if she could, share the burden of it. How she wished she could! There is a way, her mind insisted. A way to share his pain, share his life. Harry may have had to stand alone against Voldemort in the past, and perhaps in the future….but she could make him see he didn't have to be alone in his heart when he did. A soft smile stole across her lips, and Hermione took the final step in a journey which had lasted almost five long years.
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He saw her smile, a soft bittersweet smile that went straight to his heart. Her hand reached out, and slowly, gently, he felt her fingers softly touch his face.
"You're not alone, Harry."
What had she said? His mind struggled to digest it. It was all too much. He couldn't think….all he could do was look into those eyes, and pray for them to swallow him, devour him, destroy him, make him whole…..
She leaned in close to him then; he could feel her soft breath on his face. In her eyes….was a depth of emotion he had never seen before. He tried to put words to it: longing, hope, something stronger….
All thought fled when her lips touched his. Softly, so softly! Her other hand came up to cup his face tenderly. The kiss lasted only a moment, but to Harry's mind the moon sat still in the sky for hours while the feel of her lips on his threatened to break him.
Hermione finally pulled away, tears gently tracing tracks down her cheeks. "I love you, Harry Potter. I have loved you for so long. You're not alone."
It was like a dam breaking inside him. Sobbing uncontrollably, Harry Potter let a lifetime of sorrow be expressed at last. Burying his face in Hermione's hair, he wept. He wept for his murdered parents, his miserable childhood with the Dursleys, all the people that were in danger because of him. He wept for those that had died, Cedric and Sirius. Arms almost crushing Hermione to him, the boy who lived let the poison of his solitude drain from him in a torrent.
She let him weep, holding him close and gently rocking him in her arms. Her own tears threatened to overwhelm her, but she knew Harry needed her strength now. At last, he calmed in her embrace, and she thought he had cried himself to sleep in her arms. When he pulled back from her at last, the look in his eyes was something Hermione would never forget as long as she lived. Wonder. Joy.
She trembled as his hand came up to her own face and gently caressed it. Please say the words, she prayed. Oh God, don't look at me like that and stay silent!
"I love you, Hermione. I always have." The words came out slowly, cracked and full of emotion. He watched her closely as he said the words, and saw the light in her eyes when they registered. She had never looked so beautiful, he thought in awe….Tears a bright trail down her face in the moonlight, robes wet from the stream, face dirty and scratched from the brambles. At that moment, she was sublime. All Harry could think was how blind he had been.
He leaned into her, and their lips met again. Holding her tightly, he let himself drink her in, lips gently pressed against her own, his hands moving to touch her face, her hair. Euphoria such as he had never dreamed swept through him, threatened to rob him of his senses. It was electric, he could feel her along every inch of him, and he wanted more.
Lying back in the damp grass, Harry brought Hermione down with him, still kissing her softly, exploring her lips with his own. This was joyful discovery, a completeness he had never known. At last releasing her lips to gasp in the night air, Harry lay panting in the moonlight. "God, I love you. I was so blind." Bending down, he gently kissed away her tears, working up her face tenderly and ending with a soft kiss on each eyelid. Harry Potter stared deep into the eyes of the woman he held, and he knew what love was.
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He loved her. That thought played itself over and over in her mind. Harry loves me. Harry loves me, he loves me too, this must be a dream, must be a dream……only it wasn't. She gave herself up to her longing, and kissed him with all the feeling she had. She wanted to breathe him in, hold him like this always. Breaking away from another kiss, Hermione smiled at him, her heart in her eyes. "I'll always be with you, Harry. You'll never have to be alone again." His smile was radiant.
Breathless, exhausted, emotionally drained, she lay next to him in the grass, resting her head on his chest, listening to the thunder of his heartbeat. He stirred slightly, running a hand slowly through her hair. She smiled as he twined a strand around his fingers, watching the moonlight play off it. I'll never forget this night, she thought. Even if he feels different in the morning, I will always have this. Wanting to shout her joy to the world, Hermione smiled.
Sleep stole over them both at last. The sun's first light found them there still, asleep in each other's arms.
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Author's Note: Well, there you have it - Chapter 2 of No Longer Alone. I am hoping to make this a large work, branching out from here into Harry and Hermione's growing relationship, and how it affects things in the next year at Hogworts. I admit I am a total H/Hr shipper; they are the absolute perfect couple in the HP world, IMHO. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, please drop me a review. =)