Being Proven Wrong

The wind was blowing her hair all in her eyes. She didn't mind...care, rather. The railings around the balcony of the Astronomy Tower were burdened with a new weight and creaked in the night because of it, or maybe it was because the most horrendous thunderstorm of the year had decided to grace the night with it's presence. This, however, did not stop Hermione Granger from scrambling onto the barrier that kept whoever and whatever from falling to the ground hundreds of feet below. No, tonight that barrier prevented a lost cause. Hermione knew she had to ignore the barrier if she wanted to put an end to everything that had been building up over the last few months. Tears streamed down her face as she held on to the railing, the only thing stopping her fall. She did not frown, she did not smile; she kept the same straight face that Hermione Granger was known for - the one that made her look brave to the rest of the world when she was crumbling on the inside.

Over the last few months she had been weakening. It was his entire fault. Sure, if you would have asked before the war she would have knitted her eyebrows and said, "No, Harry, it can't be all your fault! You must stop blaming yourself for every little thing that happens... it's not healthy, Harry," but those days were gone. Harry Potter had ruined her life forever, her parents' life forever, and Ron's life forever, and she would never forgive him.

'He didn't mean to, you know,' the rational side of her mind told her.

' Oh, shut-up, will you? If it weren't for him my parents and Ron would be alive. Alive! I know what I'm doing here, thank you,' the emotional side responded.

She had made up her mind on this. She would jump, even if she was a bit scared now that she was doing it. What if she got caught on a jagged stone on the way down? What if the drop didn't actually kill or knock her out? What if she landed on a huge bird instead of the ground??? Hermione knew she was being silly, but it's not every day she did these kinds of things. She was relieved she had not told anyone about this, or even where she was tonight. Still, she knew he would be watching her.

And he was. The very person she hated with everything in her was standing beside the drapery inside the castle unseen. Did he think her blind? Stupid? She didn't want to give him the time of day. He could stay there and watch her die, all because of him. The guilt would hopefully weigh him down.

'Dear, that's an awful thing to say! So un-Hermione-ish.' Hermione ignored the self-comment.

She leaned back so that the railings were supporting her weight and released her left hand to prove how much she didn't care about Harry and that she was serious about the whole situation. Her eyes were shut tightly. Heights had always been one of her weaknesses. Her gown and night-robe were billowing behind her, the rain pounding down on her frail form. Taking the deepest breath she believed she ever had, she slowly released her right hand.

Harry caught it and pulled her forcefully over the balcony. His touch burned her skin, and as she turned around with threatening eyes, Harry was sure they would burn a hole through him. The thought ripped him to pieces.

" Let me go," she said in what was a controlled voice. She was trembling with rage and on the verge of a breakdown.

" I can't, Hermione." He, too, had tears streaming down his solemn face, but the rain drenching his body made it indistinguishable.

" How dare you speak my name!? Let me go or I'll kill of the both of us!" Her eyes were wild, like a savage beast that had been starved for months now looking upon its prey. Harry took hold of her left wrist, which made Hermione jerk and try to break free even more. He yanked her back into the Astronomy Tower while Hermione shrieked with fury and hatred and tried kicking, clawing, even biting Harry to set her free. She had wanted to end her misery, not add more to it! Did he think her his prisoner? Captivated. She felt like someone held captive.

When Harry came to face a large squishy chair, he did the unpredictable and shoved Hermione in it roughly. Despite his actions, he did not look vicious or even angry. No, Hermione had seen this face before. Guilt. Harry was wallowing in guilt. He felt guilty. Looked guilty. And Hermione was proud.

" Why, Hermione??? What were you thinking?" he tried to scream, but all that came out was a hoarse whisper. It sent chills down Hermione's spine.

'Stop it! Get a hold of yourself, Granger. Think of all Harry's done to you, to the Weasleys.'

" What was I thinking? I'll tell you what I was thinking, Harry Potter! Savior of the bloody wizarding world! The boy-who-lived! You'll wish you hadn't lived when I'm -"

" I already wish I didn't!" he hissed. She hadn't expected this. Hermione figured he would plead for her forgiveness, try to make her feel special, anything to make her feel better. Not make her feel guilty. Not say her assumptions were true.

" Harry! Open your eyes!" she tried to come back. " You caused people to die! People I loved! People I though you loved! " She was crying hysterically now, only making her look even more psychotic. And she did. Hermione looked crazy, mental, as Ron would have said.

" I did love those people, Hermione! I still do! And you know that! How can the smartest witch at Hogwarts be so blind!? I needed help Hermione. Ron wanted to help! Everyone did! Even you! But I...I just couldn't risk it. You think I told Ron to come along? You listened. Your parents did too, and for that, I'm sorry. At least you knew them." Hermione could notice the tears now, for they were all over his face. He had torn his glasses to rub his eyes then turned away in...embarrassment, maybe? Fear? Hermione was not sure. However, she did know he was right, and she hated to be proven wrong.

" I HATE you, Harry Potter!!!!!" she screamed, and lunged for him. Luckily, Harry caught her wrists in a loose grip and didn't tumble over. Hermione pounded her tight fists against his chest, quivering with humiliation. How could she have been so stupid? " I hate you, Harry, I hate you, " she attempted again, but this time it came out weakly. Her sobs were overcoming her words, and soon she could not speak. All she could do was wail, kick, scratch, and hit.

" No, no, you don't. Stop saying that," he cooed, but a cry was threatening to escape from him too. She was lovely to Harry, though. Hermione had a strength he could never keep. He pitied her as well. He had put her through so much pain. It was his fault...again. This must have enraged Hermione. Evidently, she found a new power to drive Harry's heart lower and lower into the ground.

" Yes! Yes, I do! I hate you! I hate you, Harry, you! And you make me sick! How did I ever love such a...thing! I hate YOU!" She was yelling again, and her hitting was becoming harder, even though Harry had her small wrists clamped in his hands. It was only fair that Harry get something off his chest. Pound! Pound! Pound! Hermione's fists thumped. Over and over, she was muttering ' I hate you 's under her breath. Then, Harry gripped her forearms and tugged her against his chest. Her hitting had stopped, but the sobs sustained. Squeezing her so tightly that her shoulders hunched up, Harry kissed her. Hard. Hermione was still sobbing, but Harry didn't really mind. Hermione made to move her hands, and, hesitantly, Harry released his hold, but rested his large hands on her lower back. Hermione's hands came up to caress his face, pulled out of the kiss, and just stared at him. Really took him in. Hermione let out a gasp or sob one, then flung her arms around Harry's neck and cried like she had never cried before. Both of them were holding on to each other like they would never let go. No words were shared in their time of realization - Hermione didn't hate him, she knew that, and he definitely knew that.

Harry petted her now damp hair and let out a warm gush of air that he didn't know he had been holding, tickling Hermione's shoulder. They were both crying, Hermione loudly, Harry softly. As they sank down to the floor, exhausted from all the emotion coursing through them, Hermione admitted that she had been wrong, very wrong.

" I don't h-hate...you, Harry. I'm so s-sorry." To prove just that, timidly kissed him softly on the lips for just a few seconds. They lay down, still in their wet clothes, and Harry brushed his lips against her cheek. She lay nestled on top of him, her head under his chin, his arms wrapping around her upper and lower back protectively. And that's exactly how they awoke the next morning.