Harmione One Shots

The Death of Harry Potter And the Return of the Time Turner

Hermione,

I don't know why I'm writing you this. It's clear you don't want to hear from me, and I understand why.

On the other hand, we can add understanding why I'm compelled to write you now to my staggering list of failures this year.

First I was useless during the attack at the World Cup, then I managed to get myself drawn into yet another scheme from the bloody Death Eaters by getting myself sucked into the bloody tournament.

I've realized that none of the success I'm lauded for is my own. The first task? That wouldn't have gone my way without you helping me learn that charm. The second? Neville came in moments before I was about to drown myself in the bloody lake, where I almost failed again even after he helped me out.

The third, Cedric died, and I practically did that myself. My bloody sense of justice made me take the cup jointly with him. He'd still be here if I'd been anyone else.

And then, I failed again, and Voldemort came back to life. All with the help of the man I was too selfish to let Sirius kill on the spot last year. Even after you risked time and your own safety to help me.

The bloody world is falling apart and it's all on me.

I guess I just wanted to let you know, I appreciate that you held out as long as you did before stepping back from me. And I don't blame you at all for not speaking with me over this summer. You've given me so much, and can't possibly owe me anymore of yourself.

Maybe that's why I'm writing this.

When everyone was wearing Potter Stinks buttons, you were by my side, and I even dared let myself wonder about what might lie in our future. Without your help I wouldn't have had what little time I've had with Sirius.

By the time you're reading this though, none of it will matter anymore. The people I know, the people I care about, the people I love, have a tendency to die violent and unnatural deaths.

Now, none of them want any contact and I can't say I find a flaw in that logic. Less contact with me makes them all safer.

They'll all be better off without the burden of my existence. I just wish I hadn't lost so much before I realized it.

Be well, Hermione. And don't harbor any blame for yourself. What I'm about to do is on me and me alone.

Love always,
-H

P.S. If you don't mind, Hedwig will need tending to. She's yours if you'll have her. She's always taken a bit of a shine to you. Her and I have that in common.

P.P.S. You were beautiful long before that Yule Ball, you know? Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

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It had been two days since Hermione first hear the news from Mrs. McGonnagall, to which she had immediately fell to the ground wailing. Hermione felt like her heart had been burn from her chest and iron clamps placed on lungs. She could barely breathe, she couldn't speak, hell for the first time ever she couldn't even think. She had trusted Dumbledore, done what she had been told by the smartest wizard in the world, and it cost the life of her best friend and let's just be honest, the one she loved.

Why is it you don't know what you've got until it's gone? She had been so stupid for so long, with so many missed opportunities. If she had just taken one of them, would Harry be her today? After she cried herself out of tears, these were the questions that ran echoed over and over in her mind. She already knew these would be the questions that drove her mad. Maybe she could just give up enough to join him. She had read reports of death by broken hearts before. Previously she thought them to be the stuff of old wives tales. Now sitting here, not thinking and rather feeling... she absolutely understood how that could happen.