Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter or any of its characters.
Note: This story was half-inspired by Prong's "Last Dance." (A great story which I definitely suggest. Prongs shares the "The Marauders" account.) The other half came to me in a dream. I felt like writing a depressing story, and this is what I came up with. I want to leave you guessing as to who the couple is, but I plan to make a big rant at the end about how great they are. **points at Prongs and cackles evilly** But it's NOT a R/Hr!!!! Down with R/Hr!!!!!!! Boooooo!!!! **clears throat** That is all. Please enjoy my story.
He could feel the wind blowing through his hair, taste the salt in the atmosphere that surrounded him. He heard her call out his name, and turned to see her standing behind him, a joyful expression on her normally serious face. She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck, standing on her tip-toes to softly press her lips up against his. She, too, tasted of salt. When they broke apart, she smiled up at him, her mouth moving to say his name again, but she made no noise. Only a soft bleeping could be heard, a sound that continued to ring in the background as her happy face faded away. . .
He awoke with a jolt to find himself in a chair, and momentarily wondered why he wasn't at home in his own bed. . . then he remembered. Reality came crashing down around him, dissolving the feeling of warmth that had been a left-over of that utterly perfect dream. His eyes moved to the bed a few feet away. Stopping, he forced himself to look away. It was too painful. He would be here for her, but he couldn't look at her, he couldn't see her how she was.
But he needed to. Just like he needed his next breath, he needed to look at her, to see her face, so that he could know she was still with him and hadn't left him alone for good. His gaze fell upon her soft face, her long eye-lashes flowing from her closed eyelids, caressing her cheeks, her chest heaving up and down with each breath. He smiled softly. Even now, she was beautiful. If she never recovered, he would always love her with all his heart.
The infernal bleeping continued, but it did not bother him. It marked each heart beat, each moment which pumped the life through her body, keeping her close to him. His hand subconsciously clenched into a fist, his nails digging into his palms, creating bloody crescents.
It was his fault she was like this. He'd always tried to be there for her, whether her problems were that she was studying too hard (as she almost always was) or if they were of a more life-threatening nature. And she, in turn, had always been there for him.
In the end, that's what had made her this way.
His eyes blurred from the hot tears that threatened to spill over onto his cheeks, and a dull pain throbbed in his forehead, an echo of the burning heat that had distracted him from saving his love. It had been a warning, but not enough to save the one he needed most.
He studied her face, and frowned at the dark rings under her eyes. From either studying or worrying about him, she had never gotten enough sleep. He had always tried to get her to rest more, conserve her energy. . . but, no, she had to fight, to be there by his side.
He was shaken from his thoughts when he heard a knock at the door, but he didn't turn. He felt more than saw his freckled best friend enter the room. A warm hand fell on his shoulder, and he tilted his head upwards to see a pair of sad, brown eyes.
"The doctor said. . ." his friend averted his gaze for a moment, taking a deep breath before looking back. "The doctor said that they don't know when she'll be better." His voice sunk to a scratchy whisper. "It's serious."
Harry nodded silently, and he went to be by her side. His hand stroked her forehead and he leaned down to gently kiss the corner of her mouth.
There was a time when all he'd wanted was for her to sleep.
Now all he wanted was for her to wake up.
Well, that's it, folks. What do you think? Now that we have all that depressing stuff out of the way, I can rant. **takes a deep breath** LONG LIVE H/HR!!!!!! I have nothing against Ginny or Ron. I hope Ginny finds someone real nice, but I can't let her have Harry. Not when he's so perfect with Hermione. And, anyone who knows me or has read any of our Harry Potter stories will know that RON IS MINE!!!! **bows** Thank you.
And while we're talking about Hermione. . . according to my Star Wars Insider magazine, there's going to be this waitress in a Coruscant night club in Ep. II who's name will be Hermione. Neat, huh?
Well, 'tis all I had to say!