Harry Potter was alone.
He stood in the middle of a clearing in the Forbidden Forest, a low hanging mist swirling through the area and curling around his ankles. He had come here to meet his nemesis, Lord Voldemort, he knew that.
But where was the monster? And for that matter, where were his death eaters?
There was no one else with him in the clearing, and he could not see beyond the forest line, shrouded in impenetrable darkness. A feeling of dread washed over him and he repressed a cold shiver. Harry chastised himself for his fear, clenching his fist tightly.
'I will not be afraid of him,' Harry swore to himself mentally, taking a deep breath.
Instead, he grew angry. Where was his great adversary? Voldemort had summoned him here to die, but had chosen not to show? WHERE WAS HE?
"Riddle!" Harry yelled out into the clearing. "Where are you?! Show yourself, coward!"
Only silence greeted his words. His anger grew, overriding his fear, and he looked around the clearing, shouting in all directions.
"You called me here, coward!" He snarled. "You called me here to die! So where are you? Or are you to afraid to face me?!"
As the echoes from his voice faded, Harry began to tremble. What was happening? Where was Riddle? And for that matter, didn't he come here with someone else? He grimaced and held his head as a short intense pain shot through it. Who was it? Who came here with...?
A feminine scream cut through the air, and he froze in horror.
"HERMIONE!" Harry screamed out into the clearing.
He heard another scream. He knew immediately it was her. He remembered hearing the same scream in Malfoy Manor while she was being tortured.
"Hermione! Where are you?!" He yelled, trying to pinpoint which direction her screams were coming from. "Call out and I'll find you!"
"Harry!" That was her voice, no question. "Where are you? We were meant to do this together! Why aren't you here?"
Panic and guilt flared up inside him as he listened to her cry out to him. His breathing became erratic and he began to circle the clearing, trying to pinpoint her voice. He could not, however. It seemed to be coming from all around him.
"Hermione!" Harry cried in desperation, tears trickling down his cheeks.
She did not call out to him again. Instead, a sinister, serpentine hiss began to echo throughout the clearing. He froze, and the feeling of dread washed over him once more. He reached for his wand, but realised he did not have it. He was defenceless.
As he watched, a pair of burning scarlet eyes cut through the dark and approached him. The hellish eyes were attached to an amorphous black shadow, which seemed to devour the mist and take its place. Harry backed away as the black cloud approached, his mind almost completely consumed by his fear.
Once the shadow reached the centre of the clearing, it stopped moving. The eyes burned into Harry, and he realised with horror that they were Riddle's – this thingwas Voldemort.
"Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived," the creature hissed.
Harry could not move and he could not speak. All he could do was gaze in terror at this abomination. As he watched, the monster seemed to raise a hand, and a sickly green light grew at its tip. Harry's eyes locked on the light. This was it.
The light surged towards him, becoming blindingly bright as it approached. As it flew across the clearing, all he could think of was Hermione, hoping she was alright.
"Goodbye, Harry Potter."
With a howl of terror, Harry Potter's eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright. A panicked gasp escaped his lips as his lungs tried desperately to take in the oxygen they needed. He sat there, on the floor, panting uncontrollably as his body began to recover.
As his mind began to realise that he had just woken from some sort of dream, his fear began to fall away and his breathing calmed. He was dearly glad it was just a dream. A stray thought lingered at the edge of his mind, however.
Was it just a dream?
Harry's mind, now calm once more, began to think back. His memory of the past few hours was foggy, and difficult to picture. He could see flashes, but not much else. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to think things through.
The hall was silent and dark. The familiar sound of children's laughter and joy which usually graced the space was absent. In its place were the gentle sobs and tears of mourners...
Molly Weasley was kneeling down next to the pale body of Fred, crying heavily and cradling his body. Arthur Weasley was alongside her, trying to comfort his distraught wife...
His eyes fell upon the bodies of Remus and Tonks, laying side by side...the couple's fingertips were almost touching...
His eyes shot open and he cried out as the images returned to his mind. Harry wanted to deny the visions, hoping that they were only nightmares sent by Riddle to break him. Deep down, however, he knew that was not the case.
The final battle had been fought. Hogwarts lay in ruins. A great many people he knew and cared for had been killed. He had gone to face Voldemort to save lives. Hermione had found him and joined him.
Harry remembered being stood in the clearing, Hermione by his side, facing down his mortal enemy. He remembered the laughter from Voldemort and his minions. And he remembered the sickly green light.
Harry hoped that it had just been a dream, that they hadn't gone to meet Riddle, and they hadn't been hit by the killing curse. However, as the memories faded and he took stock of his surroundings, Harry realised that this wasn't the case.
He was sat on a cool, rough, tiled surface, and he could feel small stones and bumps digging into his palms. As he looked around, he could saw red brick walls and pillars, and a vast arched iron framed roof.
"So is that it?" Harry murmured to himself. "Am I...dead?" His voice devolved into a whisper with the last word.
As the understanding of what had happened finally caught up to him, tears began to trickle down his cheeks. Where was everyone? When you died, weren't you supposed to meet your lost family and friends?
He quickly scanned the area once more, but saw no one. Where were his mum, his dad, Sirius, and Remus? Where was Hermione? Harry felt a huge wave of disappointment. With a tired sigh, he pulled himself to his feet, walked over to a wooden bench and sat down.
Harry cradled his head in his hands, saddened and distressed that he was alone here. He had hoped beyond all else to see his family again. This isolation was unfair and cruel, and he could not bear it.
Hoping to distract himself from his loneliness, he pulled his hands away from his face and looked down at himself. He felt remarkably clean, and wondered why. For the better part of a year, he had washed his body very little as they did not have access to a shower.
Indeed, as he looked down now, he was squeaky clean, almost as though he had just gotten out of the shower. Harry was very glad of this fact, as the horcrux hunt had made his body quite dirty and had produced a strong body odour.
'Being on the run from death eaters would do that.' Harry mused.
The only way the three of them had coped was by casting freshening spells on themselves almost daily and washing whenever they could. This had helped, but nothing beats a shower or bath to get really clean.
As he appraised his current condition, he not only felt very clean but also very well. He didn't feel tired or hurt, and he didn't look as skinny or emaciated as he usually did.
After finishing his inspection, Harry once again began to observe the space he found himself in. What should he do? Was there anything to do? Was this a form of limbo? If so, should he just wait? Harry pondered this for a moment, before decided to try to determine where he was and then go from there. Perhaps he might be able to find someone.
As he explored the space, he realised that it felt familiar. He had been here before. On his wanderings, he noticed a small, metal sign on one of the large stone pillars which read Platform 9. Across the width of the platform, he noticed a second, neighbouring pillar with the sign Platform 10 marking it.
With a flash of realisation, he understood where he was. He smiled with the familiarity. Harry was stood outside the magical entrance to Platform 9¾, which meant that he was standing in the muggle part of King's Cross Station in London.
Letting out a small chuckle, he shook his head with a smile. He couldn't believe that he didn't recognise the place he had been coming and going from for six years.
Harry stepped up to the archway which normally betrayed the entrance to the magical platform, and leant his hand against it. His face flashed with surprise when his hand met solid brick instead of passing through. He sighed and brushed his hand across the surface.
"The platform must be closed." He pondered sadly.
With a small smile, Harry patted the archway like a faithful dog, before he went back to his wanderings. After a time, however, he began to hear something new. He froze to the spot and his eyes widened as he recognised the sound.
It was a steam locomotive, or more specifically, the Hogwarts Express.
As the beautiful scarlet locomotive pulled into Platform 9, it let out a whoosh of magical steam which swirled around him and shrouded the platform in mist. Coming to a stop next to Harry, he stared at the Express in shock before tentatively approaching and looking in the cabin. Disappointingly, it was empty.
"There's no one here." He muttered sadly. As the last word left his lips, another voice cut through the air.
"Harry?" A female voice intoned.
Harry spun around in surprise and stared into the mist. Slowly, a figure began to emerge from the steam and walk towards him. When her identity became obvious, he smiled widely and he ran to her, clutching her in a tight embrace.
"Oh Merlin, Hermione," he murmured happily, burying his face into her bushy mane, "it's so good to see you! I missed you so much!"
After a moment, he broke the hug and looked at her properly. Hermione beamed back at him, her eyes sparkling with happiness.
"Oh Harry, I missed you too!" She replied, giving him a brief squeezing hug. "I...I didn't know if I'd see you again." He nodded grimly in understanding. "But Harry, where are we?" She asked confusedly.
"To be honest, I'm not sure." He answered thoughtfully. "I don't think I've been here that long, but it's hard to tell." He swallowed a lump in his throat. "I...I think this might be…limbo." Her eyes widened and her face paled.
"O-oh," she murmured, looking like a deer caught in headlights, "so...so I suppose that means we're...dead?" Harry nodded sadly.
"I think so," Harry replied, before pulling her into a hug.
They held each other tightly for a few minutes, until both had come to terms with the terrible reality of their situation. They had been killed – murdered by Voldemort. As Harry held her to him, a tear trickled down his cheek and he sighed.
"I'm sorry," Harry murmured quietly. Hermione pulled back from the embrace and looked up at him confusedly.
"Sorry for what?" She asked. He looked away from her.
"I'm sorry that...that you..." he paused, wincing as he did, "...you died." She frowned at his words.
"But why are you sorry?" She asked, bewildered. He pulled away from her completely and walked across the platform.
"Because it's my fault," Harry whispered, just loud enough for her to hear.
"Harry, of course it isn't your fault..." Hermione began to argue, but he cut her off.
"Yes it is!" He cried agitatedly, tears falling freely now. "It's always my fault! The people I care for and love die, and it's all because of ME!"
As the last word crossed his lips, Harry swung his fist and punched the brick wall, deeply regretting it afterward as pain shot through his hand. Biting his lip, he clenched his injured hand and gently leant his head against the wall.
"It's all because of me..." he murmured, his eyes closed.
She did not reply immediately. Harry stood there for a moment, his hand throbbing in pain, before a smaller hand gently took his injured one. He opened his eyes and looked down at their hands as she slowly tugged him around to face her.
His hand was bruised and slightly bloodied. Harry winced when he looked at it, feeling it pulse uncomfortably. Hermione tenderly caressed his hand with hers, running her fingers over his self-inflicted injury. He shivered at the sensation, and despite everything, it began to feel better from her ministrations.
After a time, she looked up at him, an un-amused expression on her face, and she let out a patient sigh.
"You're an idiot," she remarked, matter-of-factly.
At the sheer absurdity of the situation, the bluntness of her reply and his emotionally heightened state, Harry burst into hysterical laughter, and tears once again streamed down his cheeks. Finding his amusement infectious, Hermione soon joined him and the pair stood there on the platform, laughing tearfully at the moment.
A short time later, after he had regained control of himself, Harry looked at Hermione with shining eyes, and he smiled shyly.
"I love you, Hermione." She smiled at his affectionate words.
"And I love you." Hermione replied, taking his injured and uninjured hands in hers. "And that is why you don't need to be sorry for what happened." He frowned at her.
"I don't understand," Harry responded confusedly.
"Harry," she began with sigh, "I have wanted to hear you say those words to me for the longest time. I...I had almost given up hope. And then, in the midst of all the death and pain of the battle, you told me you loved me." She smiled beautifully, and Harry felt his heart flutter. "My dream was fulfilled. And while we never got our happy future, we at least had that moment...and I wouldn't trade it for anything."
"You wouldn't trade it?" He asked disbelievingly. "Not even for a long, happy life?" She shook her head at his words.
"No, I wouldn't." Hermione replied confidently. "Would you?"
Harry thought about that honestly. He didn't want to die, of course he didn't. Who did? But the possibility of having a long life without Hermione in it was...unthinkable. He felt his heart twist uncomfortably at the thought, and he shook his head.
"No," he replied hoarsely, "no, I wouldn't. Even thinking about it is..." he scrunched his face up in disgust and she nodded.
"...horrible," she finished, and he nodded in agreement. "A life without you, Harry, is a life I would not want to live." She smiled at him. "I love you, Harry. Remember what I said before we went into the forest?" He nodded.
"It's you and me," Harry answered, a smile on his face, "to the end." Hermione nodded in response, before pulling him into an embrace. As she held him, she whispered into his ear.