So I have no idea where I'm going with this fic. Maybe Hermione shows up at his door in the middle of the night in the rain or something and shags him rotten. I just thought of it. So... you know. It may be crap. Note: takes place 2 days after going back to the Dursleys after OotP.
So it's 3am here. I just woke up from the worst dream. I dreamt that you'd died in the Department of Mysteries along with Sirius. That you just never woke up. And Neville told me that you were dead.
So I went to your funeral. And you're parents were crying and looking at me as though they were saying "how could you have done this to our baby?" And I looked down to the ground and you were there, laying in a box. I kept thinking about everything that led up to it that I could have changed. I was so lost, Hermione. The year went by so slow... abnormally slow. Dream slow. Like I could feel every single moment. Every day felt like I was just going through the motions, like I wasn't really alive at all. Every moment I was aware that you were actually dead. Really dead. Everyone says that word like they know what it means but they don't... not until they really stop and think about it. And I kept thinking of you. How you would always smile at me when you saw me. How you'd always stand with me even when you didn't know why you were standing...you just did. Because you were always on my side. And I saw your cloak hanging in the common room and I just grabbed it and smelled it and it still smelled like you. Like you were still there, in the room. But I knew you weren't. But I just wanted to keep the cloak in a box so that in 50 years, I could open it and it would still smell like you and I could remember.
For some reason, all I kept thinking was that I wished I could go back and stay up with you that night and knit hats for house elves. If I could just get those few moments with you; just to sit with you and smell you and feel you there. And if had been reversed, you would have stayed up with me. And through the whole dream I just kept finding pieces of you all over the place. Your wand. Your shoes. Your tie. Your books. I couldn't even walk by the library without breaking down. Just... falling.
I missed you so much Hermione. So much.
And I got older and older and I still thought about you, wondering what you'd look like at that point and knowing that when I'm 100 years old, the only way I'll ever be able to think of you is at 16 years old because that's when you died. You wouldn't have grown up with me. I'd never know what you would have looked like. I was so full of regret. Then I woke up.
And now I am breaking down. Not because I lost you but because I'm so scared of losing you. I don't know why I'm writing this letter to you. It's pouring out, but I don't care. I'm sending Hedwig with this letter all the way to London in the pouring rain because I can't let myself loose the nerve to tell you everything I should have told you a long time ago. I want to get on my broom and fly to your house and shake you awake and hug you and tell you all of this before I lose my nerve.
I'm a horrible friend to you. I've treated you so badly all year and I'm so sorry. And even though you knew I was wrong, you were my friend and you followed me to the end of it all. That's the part that just cuts me open... that you did that. You did it for me. You fought right along side me knowing I was leading you into possible death. I didn't understand why until now. I don't deserve you, Hermione. I don't deserve someone who will love me that much when all I do is get angry at you for caring about me. And I know you love me. I probably wouldn't ever tell you that I knew that because.. I don't know. Not that it would embarrass you. Maybe it would embarrass me. Because I know I don't deserve it. But I've known. How could I not know? And you're so much more... so much better than all of this. Better than me. I'm tired of all the people I love dying for me.
When I saw that flash of light hit you, and you fell, it was like a huge part of me was falling with you. I couldn't look at you Hermione. It was like... if you were dead, I wanted to hold on to every last moment I could thinking you were alive. Like the moment I really looked at you and saw you were dead... that would be it. I don't think I could ever go through that again- thinking you were really dead. You'll never know.... you'll never know what that did to me. To see you on that floor. You'll just never know. I can never describe it to you and please don't ever ask.
And now I'm thinking all these thoughts that I should have been thinking a long time ago. I'm sorry. I love you so much. I really do. You'll never know what you mean to me. And I'm hating myself for everything that I've said to you... and haven't said. I love you, Hermione. And when I say, "I love you," it's not because I want you, which I do, or because I'm afraid of losing you, which I am. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are... what you do. How you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly who and what you are. Just as you see me- all of me.
You are the only thing in my life that's good. You and Ron are the only things I have that mean anything to me. And Ron is my friend. He would have gone along with me no matter what I'd said because he's my friend. But you love me. I know this. I know this because you were the one that cared enough to tell me the truth. You would rather of had me hate you then to see me get hurt. And I was so cruel to you. I yelled and spit and hated you for even suggesting that I was wrong about Sirius.
I just... I needed to think that I could save him. I can't explain it better than that.
And even though you were smart enough to know that I should be careful- even when others would have told me to sod off after I had treated them the same way- you still stayed. And you fought. And you almost died. But you did it. You did it for me.
Now everyone is mailing me and asking me if I'm okay, as if they think I'm going to jump off a bridge. But the truth is, what I can't tell them, is that I feel happy. Well, maybe happy is too strong a word. I feel lucky. I miss Sirius. And God knows I miss him. But I'm so thankful you're still alive that missing him isn't the focus of my day. And I feel guilty for that. I feel more guilt about that than almost anything. But you're alive. And you're breathing and you're probably sleeping right now and that makes me so happy it's almost abnormal. And I'm so afraid that I might lose you because of my own stupidity. A huge part of me just wants to push you away because I can't go through that again. I just can't. And like you did for me...I'd rather you hate me for pushing you away than to see you dead because of me. But I'm selfish and I can't do it without you. I can't do any of this without you there by my side. Hogwarts is my home because you're there. And you're always there. And I've taken for granted that you'll always be there. And I wish I could be there the same way for you but I know I haven't been. I'm so sorry.
And I'm sorry I didn't say all of this to you after you got out of the hospital. I just... I don't know. I think it took me being away from you... with the last images of you in my mind being your body laying on a cement floor... for me to realize everything I needed to say to you. Everything I wish I could say to you when you're standing in front of me. But I'm scared. I wish you were here right now. I just want to grab you and tell you all of these things while I still have the guts. Tell you what you mean to me and hope to God that you'll forgive me for being such a prat. And for not telling you sooner. I just really wish you were here and I'm sorry if this letter woke you up. I just needed to tell you everything. I love you.
*"When I say I love you..." line is from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, altered for my every evil whim.