"I'll go with you".
The words reach him as a whimper. They are a barely understandable yet tangible collection of words strung together with harmonic imbalance. At first, he is mesmerized by their purity and subtle conviction; it is a strange combination, one that he can't recall hearing before. But as soon as the thought crosses his mind, it is replaced by a fearful realization. She would go with him, risk her life to an extent that she has not yet reached, though not for a lack of trying. Memories flash before his eyes in an instant.
Her petrified body, motionless in a hospital bed immediately comes to mind. A game of brooms and keys, of poison and riddles taunts him mercilessly. A trip in time to rescue a fugitive clouds his judgment. Images of her tired eyes, of her small frame trudging along with a mountain of books in her arms immediately flood his vision. He realizes all of this within milliseconds, and yet, he owes her an answer. She's given up everything for him; her studies, her parents, herself. 'But not her life', he thinks, 'I cannot and will not ask her of that.'
"No," he says too quickly, "Kill the snake. Kill the snake and-"
He pauses for a sharp breath, a barely noticeable action, even to him. In that moment, every thought and emotion hit him, and they hit him nowhere near as softly as their previous counterparts. She has always been there. She'd always had his best interests at heart, even when he was too obtuse or proud to acknowledge it. She is his go-to for help, his best friend, his constant. His. Yes, she simultaneously belongs to no one and to him. But then, a voice in his head speaks up. The voice is a little too bossy, but soft with concern; it is knowledgeable to a fault. It's a voice that he could never forget, a voice he knows all too well. 'Honestly, she doesn't belong to anyone, but I know you know that. The matter is not who she might belong to; I would rather you question who she belongs with', the voice said matter-of-factly.
"-and then it's just him," he finishes, almost unaware that he had spoke at all. He is stunned. It has always been her. From the very start, and all the way through, it has been and forever will be her. And yet he has not seen it until now, until it's too late. What kept him from it? Pride? Fear? Complete and utter stupidity? Or did he just take her for granted one too many times? No matter the answer, he knows that he has forever missed his chance, in more ways than one. He glances momentarily at Ron before swiftly turning his gaze back to her. He can't believe he's been so blind. He's ruined it all, and not just for him. For everybody, especially Ron and Ginny. But no one more than her. He's going to die today. He's come to terms with that. But he can't leave without her knowing how he feels. He can't go without her knowing how much her appreciates her, how grateful he is that she was a part of his life. How much he loves her. It has been two seconds at the most. Two seconds of revelations.
She steps toward him, quite obviously planning on a tight embrace. The last embrace he will ever receive from her. And suddenly, without any warning on his behalf, he pulls her into a fierce kiss. Fireworks do not even begin to describe what he feels. The bright burning of billions of distant stars can almost compare. She weakens in his arms, clearly surprised, but she does not pull away. Energy flows between them, warm and glowing. Finally, after what seems to be a carefree lifetime, he pulls away, but not before he feels her smile faintly against his mouth.
He clutches her face in his hands, his expression saying more than he ever could. She is stunned, pink in the cheeks, lips slightly swollen. She looks radiant. It takes every fiber of his being to tear himself away. He spares a look towards Ron, whose expression is a mix of surprise, embarrassment, and anger. He knows that Ron is right to be angry, but he doesn't care. He loves her, and he always will. Damn the consequences. Before turning to go, he stares once more at the girl he loved for so long without knowing. And then he's gone.
~~~
She stares after him, confused and silent. Part of her wants an explanation; part of her is still astounded. She wants to scream and cry, but she knows that will not bring him back. He's been so brave, so strong. She knows this, and yet she wishes he had been even a little bit braver. Why had he waited so long? And now, after she thought that her heart had finally healed. He had broken her heart, and though unconscious as it had been, it was continuous. She thought that she could finally let him be happy, be happy with Ginny. Lastly, she had thought that she had moved on, found new feelings, small though they may be. When Ron mentioned the house elves, she knew that that was her sign to move on. She had to let go, and maybe, just maybe, the small spark that she had for Ron would grow into s flame. But no more. She is consumed by a raw, raging fire; she knows that she cannot continue with Ron. It wouldn't be fair to him, or to her. She doesn't want to hurt him; after all, he is her best friend. But she has to follow her heart for once. She knows what she has to do. She knows who she loves. She has always known.
~~~
Harry Potter would face his doom, and come out alive. He would defeat the evil that had been consuming the entire Wizarding World for far too long. He would win for all those who had lost. He would live for all those who had died. Their deaths and losses would not have been in vain.
Harry Potter would come back from a place that he thought he would never escape. And when he did, Hermione Granger would greet him with a kiss. Damn the consequences.