She Taught Me To Love

XxForever31xX

Rating: PG
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 11/04/2007
Last Updated: 11/04/2007
Status: in_progress

During the final battle, Harry realizes what the one thing that will help him survive is. Possibility for follow-up fluff chapter.

Chapters

1. The End of the Beginning

1. The End of the Beginning

She Taught Me To Love

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Author’s Note: This is just a little short story that popped into my mind tonight while I was doing some studying. I really like it, and may or may not be doing a short (possibly NC-17) chapter to follow it up. As always, reviews are appreciated! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

XxForever31xX

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The funny thing about the end was that in that instant, Harry Potter really thought he was dying. He really thought it was over. He really thought it was the end.

And it almost was.

And the funnier thing about the end was that it was really just the beginning.

XXX

The moment came, and it was the light and it was the dark. It was Harry Potter and Tom Riddle.

Years later—TV specials, and history books and biographies—they would say it was Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort. But those who were there knew better. Especially Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley; they knew the truth.

The Horcrux hunt was long and tedious. And finally all that remained was Lord Voldemort and Nagini.

In the midst of battle, Harry and Voldemort faced off. Instead of moving to attack the Dark Lord, Harry fired a spell past him. In that moment, Voldemort’s blood-red eyes brightened and he grinned as he prepared to send a spell towards the raven-haired wizard. “You missed, Potter!” he called, his voice dripping with glee.

“No, I didn’t,” Harry shouted back, moving to shield himself smoothly. Hours upon days upon weeks of practice had honed his magic skills. He was strong.

Voldemort’s eyes flickered; he glanced to his left and saw her: Nagini was dead.

When he turned again to face Harry, his gaze was filled with more hate and anger and white-hot fury, but his face had changed. He looked more human. More like Tom Riddle.

Harry knew what that meant. There was only one piece of soul left to destroy, and that piece was incased in Tom Riddle himself.

Tom Riddle was still an incredibly strong wizard, filled with dark powers that Harry would never touch. Harry thought of the only thing he had and prepared for what he knew to be the end.

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Spectators would later say that it had been impossible to discern the screamed jumble of spells as each wizard pointed his wand at the other for the last time.

All they knew was the only thing that mattered: who walked away and who did not.

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The moment came when Harry had to pull every ounce of himself into his mind and send his spell. The only thing he could think of was Love. Dumbledore had once told him that it was the key.

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He had Hermione to thank for his new grasp of the word. For the last few months she had spent hours with him every night, trying her hardest to make him understand the one thing his life truly lacked.

She spent hours explaining what it was like to have a parent at your side; to have friends and family behind you all the way. She read him stories from books her parents had given her, tales where love conquered all. Sometimes it was romantic love, sometimes it was family, and sometimes the pure love of friendship.

And in that final instant… he thought of none of that.

Instead he thought of that night, many months back, when he’d felt so tired and broken.

Hermione had taken one of his hands—not caring that it was cold as ice—and cupped it on both of hers. She’d given his hand a reassuring squeeze and looked him square in the eye. “And if all else fails, Harry, know that I love you.” And for a moment he just looked at her, not sure what to say. Hermione smiled at his lost expression and squeezed his hand again. “You’re my best friend.”

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Riddle’s wand was held aloft and his mouth was moving, perhaps to scream a spell. Harry saw it in slow motion. His mind was racing. “And if all else fails, Harry, know that I love you.”

Suddenly his mind was racing with memories of Hermione: Hermione reading the riddle before the black fire in first year. Hermione squashed against his side under the invisibility cloak. Hermione wrapping her time-turner around his neck. Hermione floating among the mer-people in the Black Lake. Hermione in her gown at the Yule Ball. Hermione in the stands at his Quidditch matches, cheering him on. Hermione, Hermione, Hermione.

And then Harry opened his mouth and bellowed out a jumble of words; he didn’t even know where they came from. All that mattered was seeing Hermione again. He had to tell her that he understood.

XXX

In an instant it was all over and none of that mattered to Harry. He didn’t even hear the triumphant cheers of his fellow Order members. All he heard was the sound of Voldemort’s body hitting the ground. Then he ran.

He turned and ran across the grounds to where he had last seen Her.

“Hermione? Hermione! Where are you?”

“Harry!”

She was nearby. He saw her leaning against a tree. Harry took a deep breath and jogged the remaining distance between them. “Harry, you did it!” Hermione was beaming. “I knew you… what’s the matter?”

“You’re my best friend,” Harry said stepping closer to her. “If all else fails know that I love you. And that you’re my best friend.

“Harry?”

Harry was so close to her now that when she said his name he didn’t hear it—rather; he felt the puff of air against his lips. It was all he needed. He leaned forward, not caring that they were both sweaty and dirty. He crashed his lips against hers hard. Immediately, his arms snaked around her waist, crushing her to him.

After a moment, she groaned and pulled back. She saw his gaze, confused—even afraid. “It’s my arm,” she said, glancing down. Indeed, it was bleeding badly.

“Oh, Hermione,” Harry said, cupping her elbow gently. “I’m so sorry. I just had to… Hermione. I love you.”

Hermione smiled, her free hand moved to his neck. “I’m so glad.” She tugged him closer and this time he kissed her softly, gently, taking care not to press her arm.

“You’re my best friend, Harry Potter,” she whispered when he broke for air. Then, she tugged him back down again, slid her tongue against his lips and kissed him as deeply as she knew how.

“It’s about bloody time.”

Harry jumped at the voice. “Ron.”

Ron grinned and stepped forward. The rest of the Order was not far behind. “Go figure Harry Potter defeats the darkest wizard of our age and all he wants to do is snog his best friend.”

Hermione scowled, annoyed that Ron had interrupted their kiss. She’d been waiting a very long time for Harry to kiss her like that.

Harry rolled his eyes and turned back to Hermione. “Let’s get you to the hospital, love.”

Hermione grinned. There would be plenty of time for kissing. She was sure of that.