In Two Places at Once

Jester on Fire

Rating: PG13
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 19/02/2007
Last Updated: 15/03/2007
Status: completed

Harry and Hermione finally got together, and it's bliss for them. But one night, Hermione walks in on Harry with another girl, and runs away, Harry chasing after her, both not knowing that they were walking straight into Voldemort's hands. But was it really another girl... Warning: character deaths

Chapters

1. She Just Lay There...

2. Unable to Live in the Present

3. Unable to Live in the Past

1. She Just Lay There...

“I love you Hermione –“

She was taken completely aback. Her mouth fell, and she just stared at him for a few seconds. Then she registered the worried look in his emerald eyes and realized he didn’t know what she knew.

“I love you too Harry..”

A slightly awkward silence ensued, both of them staring at the floor, both of them bursting of joy inside, their burden released, and their love reciprocated.

They simultaneously looked up and gazed into each other’s eyes. No need for words, no need for patience, no need for politeness, they both instantly closed the distance with one big step and lunged at each other, landing in each other’s arms, in a fiery passionate kiss. They both tried to get as close as physically possible to each other, their lust that had been bottled for all these years finally coming out.

They moved around the fire-lit room to a couch in front of the fireplace, not once breaking contact. They finally broke for air, but Harry didn’t waste any time, and kissed Hermione’s neck in between breaths, moving down to her collarbone, then capturing her mouth once again.

They flattened themselves on the couch, Harry lying on top of her, so that he could feel every breath she took, her chest pushing up against his.

But this wasn’t close enough, they needed more ,they needed to feel each others’ skin. they needed to satisfy the desirous beast that had awaken in their bodies. Somehow, they both managed to take their shirts off practically without parting their lips. Harry broke off, and started kissing the rest of Hermione’s body, slowly moving south. Hermione responded by burying her hands in his mess of jet black hair.

They were both in heaven, both feeling the happiest they had ever felt, both forgetting about all their troubles, their worries, their minds just went blank, the only thought left being that of the person right in front of them.

Hermione woke up, her head jerking upwards, a sheet of parchment stuck to the side of her face. She had fallen asleep in the library, while studying for the final exams that were scheduled in 6 months. She detached the parchment and started tidying up her table. She closed the books, piled up her rolls of parchment, and extinguished the candle on her table, she would come back again tomorrow.

She had dreamt about the night Harry and she had gotten together. It had been the best night of her life. It was the beginning of their relationship, and so far so good. They fell even more in love with each other as the days passed, and they could rarely spend a moment apart.

Harry tried to help her study, since she hadn’t accepted the fact that she didn’t need to study, but he’s not a studious person, and got very bored very fast, so he said he would wait for her in the common room, and went to look for Ron.

She entered the common room, expecting to see Harry asleep in his favorite armchair near the fire, waiting for her to come back as he had promised, but he wasn’t in his favorite armchair near the fire, nor was he asleep.

No, he was very much awake.

He was on the couch, lying on top of a girl that Hermione didn’t get a chance to see, Harry’s head blocking her face from view while he kissed her passionately. She only got a chance to see her long brown hair and knew it was a girl because she could see her shoes along with Harry’s scattered at the foot of the couch. She simply wailed “Harry!! How could you!” and started running back through the portrait hole, tears cascading down her cheeks.

She ran as fast as she could, as far as she could. She wanted to put as much space as she could between her and Harry. “How could he do that to me!” She thought “I thought he loved me, and this is how he shows it…” She felt like she would vomit. She felt sick, betrayed, used…

She reached the Entrance Hall and darted for the front doors. Just as she reached them she heard someone cry out her name from behind her. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was, she could always recognize that voice, anywhere. She knew him better than a flower knows its petals. And it hurt her even more, because she loved him so much, because he had given her the deepest scar anyone ever could. She continued running, didn’t even look back at Harry, and ran towards the lake. She would find a way to drown her sorrows.

She saw a splash in the middle of the lake, as if something had fallen into it, but guessed it was just the giant squid.

She was half way there when she got pulled by the arm and was forcefully spun round.

“Hermione let me explain!!” Harry tried to make her listen. But there was nothing doing. She wouldn’t listen to any justification he had, nothing could dull the pain he had caused her.

“NO!” She screamed, turning around and slapping him across the face. She stood there a moment, shocked by what she had done, and started running towards the lake again, leaving a dumbstruck Harry behind her.

She managed to clear a few meters when she got pulled by the arm again. She spun round on her own this time and started yelling:

“I SAID NO, HARR –“ But the word got stuck in her throat, because it wasn’t Harry she was staring at. She wasn’t peering into the emerald green eyes that she had gotten lost in so many times, but into blazing red ones.

“V-v-voldemort!” She managed to stutter, worry and fear apparent in her voice.

He just cackled, turning around to face the Death Eaters that had appeared behind him, all the while tightening his grip on her arm. Not that she would’ve run away, she was utterly stunned, and couldn’t move, for she had just spotted Harry, lying on the floor, bound by silver ropes, his mouth gagged, and his eyes trained on hers.

She saw worry, despair and sorrow in his eyes. She could see how sorry he was, she could see how scared he was. But she knew he wasn’t afraid for himself, he was afraid for her. She tried to say something but still couldn’t muster the strength, the current situation having gone from bad to worse in just a millisecond.

“I must present you with my thanks mudblood, I didn’t think you would be so helpful to me. But my spies informed me that Harry Potter got out of the safety of the castle to chase after you. Thank you for bringing me the so-called “Chosen One” so that I can finish him once and for all.” Said the Dark Lord, breaking the silence that had seemed to go on for hours.

As the words sunk in, Hermione started to feel faint, as a tidal wave of guilt annihilated her heart. She had gotten Harry out of the sanctity of the castle, lured him into danger, into harm’s way.

“So, let us get to it” he said with a sickeningly casual tone, turning to look down at Harry “ I would give you the honor of dueling with me, but the last time I gave you that honor, you abused it and ran away. For that, you will die here and now, alone, not having been able to do anything at all. Just staring at me with utter fear in your eyes. LOOK AT ME BOY!!” he bellowed.

But Harry didn’t shift his gaze. He was still staring intently at Hermione, trying to say what his heart contained through his eyes. Trying to make her understand what he felt for her, how much he loved her, how he didn’t care that he would die now, that all he wanted was for her to be happy.

“I see you don’t even have the nerve to look death in the eye. How pathetic…” he drew a breath, and the circle of Death Eaters tightened slightly. “ And so falls the boy-who-lived, finally having run out of luck and of people to die in his stead. Avada Kedavra!!” He bellowed as a jet of pure green light spat out of his wand and shot towards Harry.

Hermione watched as the ray of green exited the tip of Voldemort’s wand, and watched it make its way towards Harry. Everything was in slow motion, but blurred. Blurred because Hermione was sobbing so much that the tears blurred her vision. The green light inched its way closer and closer and she couldn’t do anything, she couldn’t move, couldn’t react. She prayed that somehow Harry wouldn’t die, that it would miss him, or backfire, or anything. But as it got near its target, she began to lose hope, and the prospect of Harry’s death made her cry even more. She held her breath as it hit its target, and she stopped crying, she stopped thinking, everything just went blank.

It hit him straight in the chest, but he was so tightly bound, that nothing changed, nothing of his silhouette moved. The only difference were in his eyes, they had lost their brilliance, they had lost the fire that used to burn inside them, as if someone had turned off the light behind them, so that they lost their liveliness that used to inspire hope in times of despair.

And still he was staring at Hermione, at the women he had loved more than anything in the world, more than life itself. His dead gaze still fixed on her. She couldn’t break contact, she knew he was dead, but she felt like by holding his gaze, she kept a certain part of him alive, she kept a part of him still here, with her, and she wouldn’t let him go.

She was crying again, more than she had before when running out of the castle, more than she ever had in her life. But she didn’t break eye contact. She looked unwaveringly into those faded eyes of his, until she was thrown to the side like some vile piece of rubbish, and cracks resounded around her as they all disapparated.

She immediately launched herself onto his body, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him, trying to get him to look at her. But he didn’t, he just continued to stare at the place she had been. She started screaming his name, shaking him harder, his shirt slowly getting soaked by the tears that were falling freely from her face.

“You cant be dead! You just cant be!! You’re Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, you cant die! Harry!! Listen to me! I love you too much for you to die, why is my love not enough to save you….??!!!” She shouted hysterically, choking sobs in between words.

Finally she slowed down, and stopped shaking him, the truth finally sinking in. He wasn’t coming back. He was gone. “He’s gone…” she whispered. The words hung in the air, taunting her, torturing her. And by the fact that she said, she had confirmed it. It was sure now, there was no going back. Her whisper had been the blade of the guillotine, falling on her heart, maiming it, and separating her from the love she had received from Harry. She would never have that back, and that revelation nearly killed her.

She fainted, the rush of feelings finally having gotten to her: the despair, the sadness, the pain, the guilt…

She just lay there, unconscious, on top of her one and only love, her head on his chest, her hands on his shoulders, and him lying there, his body losing the warmth that life had given it. You might have thought they had fallen asleep together, had it not been for Harry’s open and empty eyes.

She just lay there, asleep, dreaming of how close to perfection things had been before that night.

She just lay there, for hours, until someone finally came out of the castle, and screamed a gut-wrenching scream that woke up the whole castle, alerting everyone that something had gone wrong in the night, but didn’t tear either of the two lovers from their sleep, both being unable too, one because of exhaustion, and the other, well, this time, the spell hadn’t backfired.

She just lay there, on the grass, her serene face betraying the chaos that was going on in her heart, as professors lifted the two of them and transported them to the hospital wing.

She just lay there…

2. Unable to Live in the Present

Chapter 2: Unable to Live in the Present

She was hovering in the air, it was late afternoon, and she was holding on so tightly to the handle of the broomstick that her knuckles were white. Even with Harry sitting right behind her, pressed against her back, his arms around her shoulders and his hands on top of hers, she was frightened. Although it wasn’t as bad as the Hippogriff in 3rd year, the idea of her being on a thin piece of wood holding two people 20 meters above the ground wasn’t much better.

“Hermione relax” whispered Harry in her ear soothingly, and a shiver ran up her spine that had nothing to do with the temperature. Even though her mind was screaming against it, she trusted Harry with all her heart, and knew that he would never put her in danger. She loosened her grip a bit, also relaxing her thighs, that were tightly squeezing the broomstick.

He squeezed her hands slightly to show support and leaned forward a bit, pushing her at the same time, making the broom move forward slowly. Hermione began to shake a bit but kept her eyes staring in front of her, determinedly not looking down.

He leaned in even more, and they started gaining speed. Hermione shut her eyes tight, and regained her exaggerated grip on the handle, backing into Harry as much as she could.

“I don’t like this!” she shouted, her voice shaking. Harry simply chuckled and spurred the Firebolt on even more.

The wind blew harder as they went against it, her hair being blown back and their robes billowing behind them. If it wasn’t for the binding fear she was feeling, she might have found it enjoyable. The speed made her heart beat faster, giving her an adrenaline rush that would’ve made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, if they weren’t being blown all over the place.

Her heart felt weightless, hovering somewhere in her chest, a strange feeling of freedom inside her. She thought it must be the ability to go anywhere with Harry that gave her that feeling, because that’s what a broomstick was, it wasn’t a slim piece of wood, it was freedom, a way to get away from everything and just admire the scenery change around you, even if Hermione wasn’t really doing that last part. She finally understood why Harry loved flying so much.

“Hermione!” he shouted through the wind and the billowing of their robes, “Open your eyes!”

“I’m doing great like this, thanks” answered Hermione, shivering as a light spray of water hit her face.

“You don’t want to miss this” he insisted.

“Uhhhh,” she hesitated, “Oh alright” she said finally, opening her eyes a few millimeters.

“Woah…!” she exclaimed, and opened them wide.

They were flying at the edge of the water, leaving a small wake behind them, and waves were splashing in front of them, water splashing up and spraying them lightly from time to time. But what took her breath away was the size of the sun setting in front of them. They were flying straight towards it, a big bright red semi-circle floating on top of the horizon, making ripples in the clouds, and the water reflecting them, made it look like there was nothing but sky around them. It was incredible.

“Happy Birthday Hermione” said Harry kissing the side of her neck. Hermione had never gotten a better birthday present in her life.

But then, strangely, the sun got brighter and brighter, and shone white. She heard someone calling her name, muffled somehow, as if miles away. She turned around to ask Harry if he heard it too but was left staring at the wake behind her. He had disappeared, his embrace was not there, his hands had left hers, and his eyes were no longer staring back at her.

The voice got louder and louder, now she recognized it as a woman’s voice, and the light grew brighter and brighter, encompassing everything around her so that she was just floating in a great white emptiness.

She snapped up, sitting up in her bed in the hospital wing, her head banging into the white lamp that had been shining over her bed, and making Madam Pomfrey, who had been standing next to her bed, jump.

“Are you alright dear?” she finally managed to say, regaining her senses.

Hermione turned to look at her, and saw worry etched in her eyes. She got up.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be al– “ Her face froze. She saw a body lying on the bed next to hers, a boy, with black untamable hair, and a scar on his forehead. Suddenly, it all came rushing back to her, like an old movie being played in her mind, but in fast forward, so that it all looked even worse. And then, at the end it cut, and all that was left in her mind were Harry’s eyes, those startlingly green eyes, so alight with passion, slowly fading away, becoming those she remembered from that night.

She sat back down, tears forming in her eyes. All the emotions drowning her once more, and her world collapsing around her once again. The dream she had was stabbing her painfully in her heart, like all the fond memories she had of Harry. Now all of them were just sad reminders of what her life used to be, relics slowly being buried under the sands of time, that part of her life withering away.

She simply sat there, staring at Harry’s body resting peacefully on the hospital bed that he had occupied so many times before.

Hermione remembered all those times she had been up there, sitting by his bed, while he rested and recuperated from whatever accident he had managed to get himself into.

Had it been a happier time, she would’ve smiled thinking of all the adventures they had had. But there was one heart-breaking difference this time. Normally, when he would get hurt, when he would lie in the hospital wing for a few days, his chest would rise and fall rhythmically. But this time, there was no rhythm, there was no movement, he just lay there, immobile.

Whatever used to happen to him, he would be up and about after a few days, smiling as if nothing had happened and walking with Ron and her in the corridors as usual. But this time…he was not getting back up.

Looking back, her time with Harry now seemed so short lived, even though it spanned over 6 years, though it took five and a half for them to realize how they both felt for each other. It all passed through her mind, as if projected in front of her eyes. She wished she had made more of her time with Harry. To know him like all those books she had read so many times. She scolded herself for spending so much time reading books and learning her lessons, when she could’ve been learning Harry, all his ticks and habits, all his likes and dislikes. She wished she had been more daring, and had just up and kissed Harry one day, so that they could’ve spent more time together.

And now the tears cascaded down her cheeks, in a constant stream of salty water, as she realized what she had lost.

She would never again see his lips curl into a smile…

She would never again see his eyes light up at the thought of a new adventure…

She would never again hear his voice, which used to capture the attention of so many…

She would never again feel the touch of his skin on hers, whether it be his hand lightly

brushing against her forehead as he pushed her hair away from her eyes, or whether it be on a larger scale of contact…

She sat there for hours, tears falling freely, and Madam Pomfrey, deciding against bothering Hermione just yet, had returned to her office. Harry was all Hermione could think about.

She couldn’t live without having him in her life; she couldn’t live with a great big void in her heart. She needed him. She loved him too much to be able to move on. But he wasn’t part of her life anymore. He was there, on top of the bed, unable to get up ever again. That was her present now, and it would be her future, he would never get up.

How she longed to be able to live in the past, even if just for a day, just to be able to experience Harry again. But it was impossible. No one could go back in time.

Unless….

“God bless magic…” she thought, a very weak smile appearing on her face and her eyes coming alight. She got up and started pacing.

There was a way, and she had used it countless times already.

“But how to get it?” she questioned herself. How would she be able to obtain such an object, when to do so you needed special permission and a valid reason, of which right now she had neither. And to add to her complications, their “rescue team” had destroyed the whole stock of them at the ministry in 5th year, and she didn’t know if more had been created since then.

“Professor McGonagall” she whispered to herself, a realization dawning on her, and she paused her pacing momentarily.

Indeed it was her Head of House who had obtained her time-turner in 3rd year, but there was a slim chance she would be able to obtain it once more for her, especially without a good rational reason to explain her needs.

“But what if it was still in her office? Maybe she still had it somewhere in a drawer or something.” It was an extremely slim chance, but Hermione wouldn’t give up, she absolutely needed a time-turner, and this was the easiest shot she had.

It meant that she would have to search the professor’s office, without getting caught going in or out. What she needed was a way to go unseen, and her answer was only a few towers away.

She finally stopped her pacing, and ran towards Gryffindor Tower.

++

Half an hour later, she was rushing towards Professor McGonagall’s office, carefully hidden under Harry’s invisibility cloak. As she neared the door, her heart started beating faster, adrenaline pumping through her veins. She opened the door carefully, and entered without making a sound, not being careful to check for any wards set on the entrance of the office.

It was very dark inside, the curtains blocking out the dim glow of the rising sun that had helped her see in the corridors of the castle. She ignited her wand, and began searching the desk in the room. She rifled through all the files, pulling the drawers out forcefully, discarding any stealth she had managed to maintain up to now.

She found nothing in the desk, and began searching the nearby cupboard. She finally found it, hanging on a sort of mini hat rack under a case of glass on the top shelf. She lifted up the case, and placed it slowly on the floor, careful not to break it.

Her heartbeat slowed as she calmed down, finally having found her prize. “I’ve found it” she sighed in relief. But her relief was very short-lived, because she light footsteps were suddenly heard behind her. She quickly grabbed the time-turner that up to then she had just been staring at and abruptly turned around.

Professor McGonagall was standing in the doorway, her wand alight, and her eyes darting to every corner of the room, looking for a culprit.

Hermione’s heart jumpstarted and began pounding her chest in overdrive. “Thank Merlin for invisibility cloaks” she thought. She inched closer to the door as her professor moved away from it, both women moving in opposite directions. She was careful to stick to the wall as she got closer to the door, McGonagall’s wand only inches away. She took in her stomach and held her breath as she carefully and silently stepped out of the office, leaving her Head of House still inspecting her ransacked desk. By the time she realized what had been taken, it will have been too late. Hermione didn’t care about the consequences of her actions anymore. All she cared about was Harry.

She quietly walked away and as soon as she turned the corner started running as fast as she could, back towards Gryffindor Tower. After about ten minutes of running around (it took her longer because she didn’t know the secret passages and it was quite dark), she ultimately arrived in her dorm room, all the other girls sound asleep, Lavender snoring like a hibernating bear. Her heart was still racing, but not because of the close call with the Deputy Headmistress, well slightly because of that, and because she had run all the way, but mostly because it dawned on her that she would be seeing Harry again.

“This is it...” she whispered ,closing her eyes, and began turning the tiny hourglass, her heart lifting with every turn, as they brought her closer and closer to Harry.

[Dun Dun Dun….Thx for reading!]

3. Unable to Live in the Past

Chapter 3: Unable to Live in The Present

She stood there in the dark, her ears still ringing from the pounding sound they had received from the time turner experience. Her eyes were still closed, for she was scared of what she would see if she opened them. She did not want to see that her whole plan had failed, that the time turner was faulty, or that she hadn’t turned it back enough times. Finally, she got a hold of her determination, and opened her eyes.

Gradually, they refocused on her surroundings, undistinguishable blurs becoming a chest here and a wardrobe there. Her heart was still pumping to the sound of its own drum, and her breathing was harsh and quick. She recognized the beds around her, internally naming each occupant as her gaze passed over each curtain.

She noticed that the one where she should have been laying was empty, at least she hadn’t travelled too far back. She moved silently towards the door, trying not to make a sound, even if she would have to make quite an awful din to be overheard over Lavender’s snoring.

Her hand hovered over the doorknob, and she stared at it with a mixture of paralyzing dread, and agonizing anticipation. Her mind was still feeling the after effects of the torture she had received in the last few hours, being drowned by so many emotions. And added to the slight spinning sensation that lingered after going back through time, it effectively clogged her brain so that it took three times more effort to analyze what exactly it was she was doing.

Hermione had gone back in time, to see Harry, more accurately to be with Harry, in a situation where she wasn’t the only one able to respond. She understood that she would be breaking the most important law of time-travel: to not be seen. But all other thoughts and feelings of apprehension were overruled when it finally dawned on her that Harry was only metres away, alive and breathing.

Her before quivering hand grasped the doorknob with a newfound firmness, and she opened the door as fast as she could, while keeping the eerie creaking sound to a minimum.

Stepping out onto the low-lit landing, she took hesitant steps towards the common room, descending the staircase one by one. Slowly, the common room came into view, first the richly decorated carpets covering the wooden floors, then the tables and chairs dispersed around the room, and then the comfortable aging sofas and armchairs, surrounding the large still-lit fireplace, as if guarding it, and finally, the portrait hole could be seen at the other end of the room.

As the light from the fire still flickered unevenly, shadows were sent away from the fire, so that the warm air of the room was slightly dampened by the darkness encasing it. Her eyes scanned the sofas, remembering Harry’s promise to be waiting for her while she was still in the library.

The reality of the situation somewhat overpowered Hermione, as she took in the fact that she was now in two places at once, the one belonging to this time still in the library, and the future one tip-toeing through the Gryffindor Common Room.

She spotted a mass of unruly dark hair protruding out from the top of one of the overly stuffed armchairs near the fireplace and her breathing hitched. Her brain went haywire when she recognised instantly who was seated there. And once again uncertainty and dread captured her, and her hands started trembling.

Was she really ready for this?

The question revolved around her, louder and louder, demanding an answer. She balled up her fists, and moved towards him, her presence still unnoticed, up until one of the floorboards beneath her creaked unmercifully.

Immediately the boy in the armchair turned around to see what it was, and upon seeing her, a big smile appeared on his face. He got up, and whispered her name, and slowly approaching her, with much more confidence in his step than her.

The sight of Harry Potter standing in front of her threatened to overwhelm her. Those startlingly green eyes, those shiny emerald orbs, staring at her with a new fire kindled behind them, amplified by the reflection of the hearth on his spectacles. She was utterly dumbstruck, the only change in her appearance being the widening of her eyelids.

Registering no change, Harry’s brow creased slightly and his voice took on a worried tone as he asked if she was alright. Hermione failed to respond, her mind simply blown away by what was standing in front of her. He walked towards her, and reached out his arms to embrace her.

As soon as the tips of his fingers made contact however, she was jolted out of her coma-like trance and she pounced on him, her lips on his, releasing all the emotions she had stored inside her into that kiss. Initially taken by surprise, his arms still stayed horizontal, clutching at thin air, but he quickly regained himself and one hand shot up to her mass of brown curls whereas the other concerned itself with travelling up and down her spine, efficiently sending shivers coursing through her whole body.

Hermione’s hands were framing Harry’s face, but keenly buried themselves in his dark hair, pulling him even closer into the kiss. She almost instantly deepened it, needing to taste him after so long, even if it had been but a few agonizing hours. She was dependant on it, it was her addiction. In fact, through all the horrors she had been through that the war had caused, she belatedly understood that on top of being the love of her life, he had become her drug, her escape from the evil that constantly surrounded them.

She broke away and trailed kisses down his jaw to his neck and kissing his collarbone, while unbuttoning his nightshirt. She would not waste a second of her borrowed time with him. He showed apprehension, and grasped her shoulders and held her at his arms length away, silently questioning her with his eyes. She didn’t need to summon anything for the look of profound desire and need that shone in her own gaze.

He seemed to accept it and started working on her sweater. She smiled and pressed her lips on his once more, then pushed him towards the opposite wall, slamming him as gently as she could in her passion against the wall, while unbuttoning the last of his shirt. He let out a muffled groan and she felt him smile against the kiss, and he dropped the sweater, that he had somehow removed without breaking them apart, on the floor near them.

But his hands did not go to her shirt, instead both grasped her behind firmly and hoisted her up, leaning forward into her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to keep balanced. She lifted her legs, her body now fully supported by his strong arms, put her feet against the wall behind him, and pushed, with her legs sending them flying backwards, so that somehow they landed on a sofa, and Harry’s body crashed onto hers.

They both groaned slightly at the unexpected fall, but it only accelerated their movements, so that their hands roamed all over the others body, and the heat between them seemed to grow more and more as the seconds went by. They kicked off their shoes, and Harry copied Hermione’s move from before, and followed her jaw to her neck then to her collarbone, and going lower, to where his unbuttoning had given him extra access. Hermione’s eyes were still closed and her mouth open, her breathing deep and fast.

It was just as Harry returned to her lips, with even more passion if it was possible, that the moment was obliterated as a wail was heard from the direction of the portrait hole.

Both their hearts stopped, and he leaned up and turned around immediately. But Hermione did not need to look at what had made the sound. She knew who it was, she could remember it so vividly now when she had said the words hours ago. Harry turned back to her, a frown etched deep in his features, a look of deep confusion set in his gaze, and she knew he could not understand what was happening. She looked at him, and as a single tear rolled down her cheek, she told him to leave, to go after the Hermione that was now running down the castle towards the lake.

He strangely obeyed without contestation, and ran out of the common room, chasing after her. The future Hermione was still lying on her back on the couch, as the worst realisation of her life washed over her, completely freezing her insides, and she felt as if she was being compressed from all around, her heart being crushed as if a box was tightening around it.

It was because of her. She caused it all. She had been the girl whom Harry had been with. Harry was cheating on Hermione with Herself, but from another time. The irony threatened to push her over the edge, and she felt like she couldn’t breath anymore. But it was not over, not only was she the cause of her own pain, she was the cause of Harry Potter’s, the Chosen One’s death.

He had followed her out of the castle to try and explain, explain something that she unknowingly had caused, and because of her, he had escaped the safety of the castle, and had been captured and killed by Voldemort.

It was all her fault.

Her breathing slowed down to a fraction of what it should normally be, her will to live slowly crumbling away under the pressure of the emotions presently suffocating her. And once again, within a relatively short period of time, she sought refuge, refuge from this deluge threatening to destroy her.

She got up, her body shaking violently all over, and focused her energy on moving her legs towards the window. She stood by what she always affirmed: she could not live without Harry. And so, now that once more he was taken from her, she had no choice. Her mind was made up, and she would not continue in this empty shell of a life without him.

She approached the glass window, opened it, and stepped onto its edge, her hand attached to the side of the window, and leaned out, gazing into the dark beneath her. She could not see very far, a big black emptiness beneath her. But she realised that is was actually the lake, because she could see the reflection of the moon on its tranquil surface, like an eternal mirror of the night. She could see the beam of light escaping through the window reflected in it.

She was cold, the night air assaulting her thin clothing, making her shiver. It didn’t help that she was afraid of heights.

She took a deep breath, looked towards the edge of the water, where she knew she would appear any moment now, and let go.

The wind assaulted her from below, and she kept her gaze fixed on the path that her past self would soon run down, while enjoying the freedom she felt as she plummeted through the air. She felt rejoiced, because finally she was getting an escape from the hell she had experienced in the last hours of her life, and because she would soon be reunited with her love.

She spared a thought to the rest of the world. It was doomed, without their prophesized hero, there was no way for them to escape the dark cloud slowly engulfing the English magical world. She thought of Ron, who would have to face losing his two best-friends in one night, and she wondered if her body would be found, or would they all search for her.

Yet it all seemed unimportant to her now. The problems people would face seemed so simple, compared to what her mind was still gearing to comprehend. Never mind, she wouldn’t need to think any longer, she would be back with Harry, and the wizarding world would heal in time.

A smile managed to escape her lips just before her body crashed down onto the black mirror that was the lake, shattering it along with herself, and escaping to the other side of it, into the other side of reality, the next great adventure someone had once said.

The last thought she had before it all ended for her was that of her only love, her hero, her drug, her reason for living. Her Harry.

[A/N: Well there it is, the end, the sickeningly ironic end to my fic. Hope you guys noticed the coherences between the first and last chapter, i.e. the part where she sees a splash in the water, not yet knowing it was herself. You’ll also notice I didn’t use any dialogue, I wanted to try out not using any, for a more intense spotlight on the actions. Anyway, I hope you guys liked it and thank you all for following this story.]