Disclamer: (inspired by harryloveshermione.com) The Harry Potter characters belong to Joanne Kathleen Rowling, Scholastic Books, and Bloomsberry Publishing. Harry and Hermione belong to each other.

Harry didn’t know where he was going. A strange buzzing, like that of a thousand angry bees, filled his head where his thoughts should’ve been. He felt as if his blood had been replaced with acid; it was burning his throat and eyes. Everything seemed sharper, yet farther away, as if he weren’t really there. Somehow, by instinct, his feet led him back to the Gryffindor tower.

“Password?” the Fat Lady asked. Harry was about to admit he didn’t know it when Hermione came storming out of the portrait hole.

“Harry, where have you been?” she questioned, looking extremely worried as she pulled him inside to the common room. Words lodged themselves in Harry’s throat, unwilling to come out as he stumbled inside and collapsed into a squashy armchair by the fire where Ron was already sitting. He couldn’t tell them. He couldn’t risk it- he couldn’t risk them coming with him, risk them getting hurt… or worse…

“Harry.” Ron’s voice seemed to echo from miles away.

He looked up, confused, as he realized they’d both been talking to him. Hermione’s eyes were glazed with shining tears; Ron looked as though he was concerned for Harry’s sanity. He opened his mouth, which felt painfully dry, and rubbed his stinging scar. He stared at Ron’s feet and tried to speak.

“I… I’m fine, it’s just…” he trailed off and closed his eyes hard.

“Harry, what is it?” asked Hermione gently. “Please, please, just tell us.” Harry could feel her gaze trying to meet his, so he stared at his hands, because he knew he couldn’t lie to her face.

“I think I might be sick, that’s all, I swear,” he croaked in a voice that he knew wasn’t his. He swallowed hard and felt his heart throbbing, pounding unmercifully in his temples.

“Right,” Ron said in an uncertain voice, “do you think you need to go to the hospital wing?”

“No, I’ll just lay down-” he began, but Hermione cut him off.

“Harry, I know you’re not ill, so stop lying,” she said soothingly but firmly. “What happened?”

At long last, Harry met her eyes, and felt something swelling in his chest- You owe her- them- the truth, he thought. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and said, “He’s close. Tonight. I have to do it now…” A shocked silence greeted his words as they stared at him, knowing he was telling the truth. Hermione’s bright brown eyes began leaking tears and her voice quivered as she spoke.

“Harry… please, you- you can’t go- you might… something could happen-”

“-because it’ll be really dangerous, and that’s why you two are staying here.” They both opened their mouths in protest, but Harry continued. “I’m not letting you go. You won’t get hurt because of me, not this time. Listen,” he added, seeing the shocked and petrified looks on their faces, “whatever happens… would be bound to happen sooner or later. When I found out about the prophesy, I knew that I’d either end up killing Voldemort or being killed by him, and there’s no other way of getting around it.” He paused and looked miserably up at them, praying, hoping they would understand…

Ron looked him straight in the eye. “Harry, what do you think you’re going to do? Go in there by yourself and- and-”

“If I have to, yes,” Harry said.

“But what if he… what if something happens to you?” Hermione asked, her face contorted in pain. “Harry, I’m not staying,” she said, slowly shaking her head.

“You have to. I’m sorry.”

He got up and strode out of the portrait hole, feeling reckless, out of place- if he died what would the world lose? A legend, he thought automatically, but then a small, doubtful voice in the back of his head said, But really, what have you done? What did you do to deserve all of it? You’ve got a scar that people worship, but why? Everything you’ve succeeded in has been luck- the Sorcerer’s Stone, the Basilisk, barely saving Sirius-and even then you let Wormtail get away, the graveyard- Cedric was innocent, and then you were stupid enough to believe Voldemort last year, and Sirius is dead. Look what happened to your friends! Ron’s got those scars now- because of you, and Hermione-

“Harry!” It took him a second to realize that Hermione was calling to him from the top of the staircase. He sighed and looked up at her. She raced down to him, her hair flying behind her, tears streaming sideways across her face. He had that rising feeling in his chest again, what was it? He couldn’t quite put a finger on it; it was as if his heart were growing to twice its normal size. Hermione reached him in front of the towering oak doors and locked her unwavering gaze onto his eyes.

“I’m coming,” she said defiantly, setting her jaw.

“No, Hermione. Not this time.”

“But why? Harry, you’re not leaving without giving me good reason-” she said, her eyes swimming like liquid copper.

“Because I couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt- or worse, killed- because you were trying to help! You have a life to live, Hermione, don’t gamble it on me!” he said angrily- why couldn’t she understand? He glared at the ground, willing her back to the tower, where she’d be out of harm's way.

“But what if you do get-” she stopped, unable to speak the word, “Harry, I can’t even say it- I’d never forgive myself for not going with you-”

“Hermione,” he said, “every time someone tries to help me, they end up getting hurt; you, Ron, every single time I go and do something stupid, I drag you along with me! It’s my- my fault that Sirius died. Every time before the Department of Mysteries, I was lucky- people are treating me like a hero because I held out until someone could fight for me! I’m done risking other people’s lives. So this time, I’m not letting anything happen to the people I…” he tried to find words as strong as what he was feeling at this moment, looking at her, “…I care about,” he decided lamely- it was nowhere near the mounting sensation in his chest. “Everyone would be better off if they just forgot about me,” he added.

Hermione bit her lip as she tried to blink back the tears that were threatening to drop from her sparkling eyes. “Harry… how could anyone ever forget about you? I… I know I couldn’t,” she whispered, as a solitary tear slid like a pearl down her face. Without thinking, he reached up and brushed it off. A ghost of a smile lit her lips as his fingers grazed her cheek.

He sighed. “Please… If you go with me, something could turn out wrong, like it did last time, and I couldn’t… I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you, Hermione. I wouldn’t be able to… go on living if you weren’t here with me. You’re my- one of my best friends,” -and a whole lot more, said a truthful voice in the back of his head. “So I’m begging you… stay.” he said desperately. “As long as you’re here, you’re safe, and that’s all that matters to me right now,” Harry said, pleading with her eyes, wishing she would turn around and leave, when, deep down, that was the last thing he wanted. He turned to go, but Hermione grabbed his wrist. Her touch sent an electric current through his veins. She was making this awfully difficult. Miserably, he stopped.

“Harry, that’s terribly selfish of you,” she said quietly, lifting a watery smile. “Do you think I’d have any reason to go on if you… if you died? Harry, I could help you, if you would just let me… I don’t care about getting hurt,” she said softly, her bright brown eyes shimmering with tears, her hand still on his wrist. Harry, feeling as if his heart would explode, took one step closer to her. “…As long as I’m with you, I don’t care about breaking rules or stepping outside boundaries. As long as you’re close to me, whatever comes my way, I know I’ll be fine… just because you’re there with me. I’ve looked death in the face with you at my side, Harry… as long as I’m alive, I’ll be with you.”

Harry could see the truth in her eyes. Everything behind her went blurry, as if it didn’t matter. He closed his hand around hers, wishing in his head never to let go. He only saw her eyes, like warm caramel, soft and sweet; he only felt her hand, cradled in his own; he could hear her heart beat with his own, filled with- there was no doubt about it- love. As her lips gently met his, the feelings that had been dammed up in his chest burst loose, filling him with a comfort unfathomably deep. For that moment he let go of everything- the anger, the misery, the burden of being trapped inside himself- and just felt.

He felt Hermione’s light hand on the side of his neck, her eyelashes brushing his cheek. He felt free, for that moment, like if he could make her safe and happy, then he would be too. Her long chestnut curls brushed the tops of his hands and sent a tingle up his spine. He wanted to stay here forever, in this place where nothing could touch him, not even Voldemort, protected by the most powerful magic of all- and it was right there, inside his heart, in Hermione’s eyes.

All those years it had simmered right beneath the level of consciousness. It was always there, but now this emotion seemed so much clearer, so familiar, yet so new. Like a beautiful song you’ve always heard soft, in the back of your mind, and then suddenly it’s surrounding you.

He held her close, hoping this wasn’t the last time he would be able to do so. He felt her heart beat steadily against his chest. She was holding onto his hand still, clutching it in hers, their fingers intertwined. He wanted this to last all his life… yet he knew it couldn’t. Slowly, unwillingly, he pulled away from her and the weight of the world once again crashed down upon him. He took her hands in his, drinking in this vision, engraving her in his memory, for he knew he could never have her- it was too dangerous.

“I love you,” she breathed, smiling weakly. With her words, Harry was divided- he loved her, too, with all his heart, and wanted her with him… but not if there was any risk, he loved her too much for that. I’m a curse, he realized, my love is a curse. Inside his body raged a battle- his heart versus his head. He looked once more into those beautiful honey-colored eyes that loved him, and knew the world couldn’t go on without them. His wouldn’t. It’d be his own fault if they were lost.

“Please don’t,” he whispered.

Harry watched as she bowed her head and more tears dropped to the stone floor. He couldn’t bear her misery. It multiplied itself a thousand times over inside his own body when he saw it on her face. “Hermione,” he said softly, lifting her chin gently with one finger. She looked up at him, and Harry was struck by the beautiful young woman that was right there in front of him… right there, yet so far away. Why does she love me? he couldn’t help but wonder.

As he spoke, the weight inside him seemed to lighten slightly, “Please… don’t cry, Hermione… I love you more than life.”

Those words were the truest he’d ever spoken. She wrapped her arms tight around him, as she had done on many other occasions. It took all his strength and self-control not to embrace her back. She looked up at him, tears clinging to her spiky eyelashes.

“Think about what I’ve just told you,” he whispered. “I value your life above mine- and I’m willing to sacrifice it, as long as you’ll be safe and happy.” The words burned his mouth- they were too true. Hermione’s eyes widened as she lifted her trembling hand up and smoothed out the troubled crease in his forehead.

“Harry, do you know why I’m happy? What keeps me safe? What’s kept me going since this war started? What I wake up in the morning thinking of, the last thing in my head at night? The one thing I could never live without?” He blinked, confused. She gently pushed a finger against his chest. “You.”

Smiling weakly, he kissed away a solitary tear sliding down her pale cheek and held her tenderly. Merlin, she’s beautiful, he thought as the room melted away into her liquid chocolate eyes. He closed his own eyes tight and opened them- staring with a mixture of determination and dread at the towering oak doors. A shiver ran down his spine as she slipped one of her hands through his tangled black hair and sighed. Finally, he looked down upon her.

And he knew she understood.

“Swear to me you won’t die…” she breathed, never breaking her copper gaze from his emerald one.

Harry whispered, slowly, painfully, lovingly, “Hermione, I’ll promise you this. I will live… as long as you love me.”