Hate Me

Hate Me

I have to block out thoughts of you so I don't lose my head
They crawl in like a cockroach leaving babies in my bed
Dropping little reels of tape to remind me that I'm alone
Playing movies in my head that make a porno feel like home

All Harry wanted was to be left alone. He didn't want to have to think of her- it made him feel sad, happy, scared, angry, frustrated... so many things, he feared he would go crazy just thinking of her.

Everything though, reminded him of her... how she would collapse on the small couch in the study after work with a cup of herbal tea... how she would "argue" with the oven, the toaster, the microwave, hell, even the coffeepot, when she would mess up cooking... how, even when her hair was messy, and looking beyond control, and when she had bags under her eyes from working so much, she was still the most beautiful, perfect creature in the world.

Now, though, thinking of her made him feel so alone, and so... Tainted. Contaminated. So horrible, because she had left. Left him alone, with nothing but his own thoughts to plague him.

There's a burning in my pride, a nervous bleeding in my brain
An ounce of peace is all I want for you. Will you never call again?
And will you never say that you love me just to put it in my face?
And will you never try to reach me?
It is I that wanted space

That wasn't true though. She hadn't willingly left. In fact, she had argued quite ferociously with him to let her stay. "Harry... please! Don't push me away! Don't make me leave you! I love you! Don't make me leave you to deal with... all of this... alone. Please!"

She didn't even let up after she moved out. Always sending letters... always calling... she had even tried stopping by, once or twice. Until he stopped answering the door, that is. Whenever she wrote, or called, or caught him for a face-to-face conversation, she always said the same thing: "Harry... I love you. Please, let me help you... Don't push me away..."

Didn't she understand? He had to be alone. It wasn't safe for her... for anyone... to be close to him! She would be better off forgetting him, and all she -and he, as well- had felt. All they had had together.

Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you

It's not like their life together had been perfect. Constantly followed by reporters, constantly looking over their shoulders for Death Eaters to come out and attack them. He hadn't even been that great to her: he hadn't been there for her when her parents had been killed -he had been too busy fighting Voldemort in another stale-mate battle to be there when she had needed him most.

I'm sober now for 3 whole months it's one accomplishment that you helped me with
The one thing that always tore us apart is the one thing I won't touch again
In a sick way I want to thank you for holding my head up late at night
While I was busy waging wars on myself, you were trying to stop the fight

Even when he had started drinking to block out the pain, and the fear, and the anger, she had stayed with him. She had let him rant and rave in a drunken rage, and when he would pass out, and then wake up hours later, barely strong enough to carry himself to the bathroom to puke, she had been there: holding him when he had been hurting. When he would hurt himself, just to feel alive, to know that blood still ran through his veins, she would stay with him. She never judged him, never found him weak, and she never stopped saying, "I love you."

You never doubted my warped opinions on things like suicidal hate
You made me compliment myself when it was way too hard to take
So I'll drive so f****** far away that I never cross your mind
And do whatever it takes in your heart to leave me behind

And even attempts at suicide hadn't swayed her love for him. She would always remind him of how good a heart he had, how he had people who cared about him, how he had done so much to help others: things he could never bear to hear, she would tell them to him.

When he had taken off, driving as far away as he could, he did to save her. To get her to forget him, and to do whatever it would take for her to leave him in peace, and move on with her life. To let him go, and start a happier life- a life with someone else, someone who wouldn't cause her hurt and pain, but who would love her and give her the life she deserved.

Hate me in ways
Yeah ways hard to swallow
Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you

It would be better for her if she left him in peace. Why couldn't she see that? The farther away from him she was, the safer she would be. That way, if she wasn't near him, she wouldn't suffer. She wouldn't suffer like Hagrid had, like Fred, and George, and Neville, and Remus had. She wouldn't have to watch those she loved die if she was gone.

And with a sad heart I say bye to you and wave
Kicking shadows on the street for every mistake that I had made

And like a baby boy I never was a man
Until I saw your blue eyes cry and I held your face in my hand
And then I fell down yelling "make it go away!"
Just make a smile come back and shine just like it used to be
And then she whispered "How can you do this to me?"

They had seen each other, at an Order meeting, and afterwards, he didn't make a quick enough getaway. She had followed him, as he had waved goodbye slightly and escaped into the night, trying desperately to ignore his broken and sad heart. As he had walked down the deserted streets of London, cursing and kicking at the shadows, remembering all his faults and mistakes, he felt so sad, and angry, and depressed that he had almost turned around and run back to her. Like a small child would run back to their parents, who would give them a hug and a kiss, and tell them everything was alright.

He had always longed for that, and consequently, for the millionth time, thought about what life would be like if there had never been any Prophecy... if his parents had never died for him... if there had never been a Voldemort...

Because he was so caught up in the "what if's..." he didn't hear her behind him. When she had caught up to him, and grabbed his arm, turning him around to face her, he had been too paralyzed to move to shake her off. She stood there for probably a good thirty seconds, just looking at him. Then, with tears in her eyes, she had reached her free hand up to caress his face, and whispered, "Oh, Harry..."

Harry had pulled away quickly, like she had burned him, and he whispered, "Just... just go. Please..." he had tears in his eyes, and he nearly collapsed on the ground from all the pain, all the anguish that welled up with her there. He wanted to scream and shout at her to just go away. To just go away, and find a new life, a happy one, where she could smile again, and not worry about anything. She stayed right where she was, and didn't let his hand go. She just brushed her fingers against his cheek, wiping away the solitary tear that had fallen from his dull eyes that had once been a brilliant green. She whispered, the pain and anguish in her voice clear as day, "How can you do this to me? How can you ask me to just leave you, when-when I still love you?"

Hate me today
Hate me tomorrow
Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you

Hate me in ways
Yeah ways hard to swallow
Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you

He squeezed her hand, and reached up to brush a stray lock of hair that had fallen from its clip back behind her ear. His hand lingering slightly on her cheek, he gave her a sad smile. Turning from her, and easing his hand out of her grasp, he started to walk away. As he finally released her hand completely, he said, "Goodbye, Hermione," then walked quickly away from his childhood friend, his true love, and faded into the misty shadows of the gloomy London street, not once looking back at Hermione, who leaned up against one of the now-abandoned buildings, and covered her face with her hands, trying to silence the sobs shaking her slender frame, and stop the tears from falling from her eyes.