He takes another swig of firewhiskey. Drowning himself seems to be the only way to numb any emotion that might creep into him. His jet black hair is as unruly as ever, but now he makes no attempt to tame it. A quick look at him would show a five o'clock shadow and bags underneath his bloodshot eyes. His pale skin attested to his lack of interaction with the outdoors. Not even the lure of the quidditch pitch attracted him anymore. Mostly because she wasn't there to watch him.
"Go, Go, Gryffindor!"
He lets a tear slip halfway down his cheek before vigorously wiping it away. He always knew deep down that he would never be able to function without her, but it wasn't until she was gone that those feelings were brought to the surface. He wanted her back, he needed her. He missed her. But, more than anything else, he loved her. As he lets out a sigh, he grabs the bottle to take another drink. He stares at the container and knows that she wouldn't approve. Through the dirt on the bottle, he can still see his reflection. He looks in his own eyes, seeing his soul. It was barren and dark, and held pain that most could not imagine. He was no longer that eleven year old boy on that train. No, he could never be that again. Not now.
"Oh, Harry!"
She had been gone for over a year now, and he had stopped living the day she passed away. They told him that she would have wanted him to move on, to continue his life happily. But what they didn't understand was that he couldn't live without her. She was his best friend, his life, his love. She was the only one that was always thre for him. Always. She assured him that he could carry on without her, and that was the only time in her life that she was wrong about him. She was always there, helping him, since the first day she met him. Her random acts of kindness never grew old, not really. She was always there, loving him.
"Harry - you're a great wizard, you know."
He knew now that he had never shown her the amount of respect and kindness that she deserved. But she took in all in stride, and looked out for him even when he didn't return the favor. He looks at his reflection in the bottle once more. She wouldn't want me to do this. He sighs and sets the bottle on his bedside table. He puts his head in his hands and weeps. His shoulders heave with every cry. His head begins to ache, and he misses her.
"Me! Books! And cleverness! There are more important things - friendship and bravery and - oh Harry - be careful!"
He lifts up his head, his face stained with tears.
"I'll be with you soon", he whispers to her.
"Oh Harry - be careful!"
There is a rustle in the curtains behind him. He turns so quickly his head begins to rush.
"Hermione?", he calls out into the darkness. But all else is silent. It was only a whisper of times past.
"Oh Harry!"
He takes another swig of firewhiskey.