Immortal Beloved

Winter had fallen upon London. In all corners of the city, people were huddled around the fireplace, spending time with their loved ones. And yet, she was on the train, going to someone she hadn't seen in ten years.

She knew he was ill, that was the only reason she was going to him. Too much had passed between them. Too many ill-fated words. Too many unspoken promises. She should have hated him; that much was true. She had hated him for most of her life. But, how could you hate someone who was dying?

The same thoughts echoed in her mind the entire trip. She could have Apparated outside of his residence, but that would have been immediate. She needed the time taken to travel for herself, to get her thoughts in order. Yet, by the time she reached his flat, her thoughts were no more in order than a pile of fallen leaves.

Pulling her cloak around her shoulders, Hermione stepped into the foyer, only to be met by Louisa. She nodded at the other woman who definitely looked worse for the wear. Hermione pitied the woman, for how could you not? Who expected to lose their husband at the young age of 35?

"How are you holding up, Louisa?" Hermione asked, removing her gloves.

It was cold outside. It was cold inside. Cold was in the air and followed her wherever she went. It was a coldness to match her heart. A single block of ice, frozen by one whom she had loved as a child... and deep down, still adored.

"As best as can be expected," the other woman said, wiping at her eyes. It was obvious that she had shed a million tears, and another more would fall from her blue eyes before this ordeal was over.

"Is he awake?" Hermione didn't feel the need to engage in small talk. She had only come here because she was summoned by the hero himself. Yet, Hermione still questioned her motives for coming.

Instinctively, she curled her fingers around the parchment in her pocket. It was the reason she had come. A letter that had begun it all; her coldness towards all humanity. Maybe, by seeing him, she could finally forgive him. Finally put all the pain behind her and maybe love again.

Before Louisa could answer, the door leading into the front parlour closed as an all too familiar red-head emerged. Harry's best friend and confidante through so many different affairs, though he never learnt of theirs. If it could even be called that, for how could it be an affair when one member failed to show up? Hermione had placed everything on the line for that one weekend, but he had an attack of the conscious. She never spoke to him again. Until now.

"He's calling for you, Hermione," Ron said softly, his words catching in his throat. "Somehow, he knew you'd be here by now."

Hermione nodded curtly at him, pushing past the two to enter the room. It had been ten years since they had last spoken. Hermione had of course heard all about him in the Daily Prophet, but no words had passed between either party. And now, these words would be their last.

Taking a deep breath, she entered the room. There he was, lying on a bed, looking far older than his 35 years. A lesser woman would have cried at the sight, begging him for forgiveness, but Hermione kept her composure. After all, it was he who owed her the apology, even if it was ten years overdue.

The battle against Voldemort had taken a definite toll on his body. His features were gaunt, his face taking on an almost skull-like appearance. Only his eyes were unchanged. His eyes still had their spark of youthfulness in them. Eyes that she had always held dear to her heart and yearned to gaze into once again. Eyes that would soon close forever.

"You came," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course I came. I keep my promises."

She hadn't meant for her words to sting so, but they did nonetheless. The true effect of her words was seen in his eyes. He looked away from her, out the window and into the cloudless blue sky. Hermione followed his gaze, not finding the words to speak. Once again, her fingers clenched around the letter in her pocket as if she were expecting some hidden strength to flow into her by touching it. She had to return it. Had to find the closure she so desperately desired.

"For all the wrongs I've done you," Harry began, only to be interrupted by Hermione.

"No Harry. I didn't come here for a bedside confession. We both know what happened that weekend. I came here to put it to rest, for I need to be free of you, and I believe this is the only way I can be." Hermione reached into her pocket, pulling out the worn piece of parchment. "I return this to you."

With a shaking hand, Harry reached out to take the letter. His eyes skimmed over the words before he looked up at her. "This was yours. My deepest feelings..."

"But not the true ones, else you would have reached me. You could have found a way to Harry."

It was painful for him, but he managed to push himself up further in the bed so that he was in a sitting position. "But I did... there were two letters..."

Hermione stood, unable to take any more of the conversation. "I forgive you Harry," she said softly. Why she was offering forgiveness to him when that was what she sought, was beyond her grasp. Yet, she was still offering it. This was her closure. Now, she understood.

"Hermione, you don't understand..." Harry reached over to his bedside table. He dug through a pile of papers only to find one. He pulled out the once sealed parchment and handed it to her. "This was still in the hotel when I got there. The seal was broken, so I figured you had read it and left me."

"Left you... what on earth?" Hermione asked, shaking her head in frustration. "There was no letter."

"But I wrote two... one in the morning, and one that evening."

This time, her own hands began to shake. Was it possible that there was another letter? If so, why hadn't she gotten it? In her mind, Hermione pictured the scene on that particular morning. She had stayed by the window all night, watching the rain beat at the windows. Wondering why he hadn't come yet.

A maid had bustled in with the tray containing the breakfast, but after one look at the watery porridge, Hermione completely lost her appetite. By that point she had given up that he would even come for her. And so she had left. There was no letter.

"No," Hermione stated again, "there was no letter. I remember the morning with striking clarity, and there was no letter."

Harry sighed, sinking back into the pillows. Could all of this pain have been avoided if she had gotten the letter? Harry had to know. Gathering up what little strength he had left, he handed the old parchment to her.

"I believe this letter is yours then," he said softly. "Read it, please... while I am still here..."

Hermione nodded, taking the letter into her shaking hands. She unfolded the parchment, her eyes beginning to read the first few words. Almost instantly, the tears began. How could this have happened to them?

"Please..." Harry whispered, closing his eyes, "aloud, though I still know the words by heart."

With a shaking voice, Hermione began to read aloud.

"My angel, my all, my very self - Only a few words today and at that with pencil - Not till tomorrow will my lodgings be definitely determined upon - what a useless waste of time - Why this deep sorrow when necessity speaks - can our love endure except through sacrifices, through not demanding everything from one another; can you change the fact that you are not wholly mine, I not wholly thine - Oh God, look out into the beauties of nature and comfort your heart with that which must be - Love demands everything and that very justly - thus it is to me with you, and to you with me. My journey was a fearful one; I did not reach here until 4 o'clock yesterday morning. I was warned not to travel at night; I was made fearful of a forest, but that only made me the more eager - and I was wrong. The coach must needs break down on the wretched road, a bottomless mud road.

We shall surely see each other soon; moreover, today. I cannot share with you the thoughts I have had during these last few days touching my own life - If our hearts were always close together, I would have none of these. My heart is full of so many things to say to you - ah - there are moments when I feel that speech amounts to nothing at all - Cheer up - remain my true, my only treasure, my all as I am yours. The gods must send us the rest, what for us must and shall be -

You are suffering, my dearest creature - only now have I learned that letters must be posted very early in the morning on Mondays to Thursdays. You are suffering - Ah, wherever I am, there you are also - I will arrange it with you and me that I can live with you. What a life!!! Thus!!! I weep when I reflect that you will probably not receive the first report from me until Saturday - Much as you love me - I love you more - But do not ever conceal yourself from me - good night - Oh God - so near! so far! Is not our love truly a heavenly structure, and also as firm as the vault of heaven?

Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you, my Immortal Beloved, now and then joyfully, then sadly, waiting to learn whether or not fate will hear us - I can live only wholly with you or not at all - Yes, I am resolved to wander so long away from you until I can fly to your arms and say that I am really at home with you, and can send my soul enwrapped in you into the land of spirits - Yes, unhappily it must be so - You will be the more contained since you know my fidelity to you. No one else can ever possess my heart. Oh God, why must one be parted from one whom one so loves? My angel, I have just been told that the mailcoach goes every day - therefore I must close at once so that you may receive the letter at once - Be calm, only by a calm consideration of our existence can we achieve our purpose to live together. Be calm - love me - today - yesterday - what tearful longings for you - my life - my all - farewell. Oh continue to love me - never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved.

ever thine

ever mine

ever ours"

By the time she had finished reading, tears were streaming down her face. How, in the name of all things sacred, did she not receive this letter? In it... all was explained, and all would have been forgiven. She clutched the parchment as if she were holding onto life itself. Her tears fell as droplets, smearing some of the words so carefully written there.

"I... I never saw this," Hermione said, with a shaking breath. "Otherwise I would have waited until time itself ended for you."

Harry shut his eyes tightly. How did this happen to them? Why were they destined to be the two star-crossed lovers the fates kept apart? Yes, he loved Louisa, but she didn't know him like Hermione did. She knew him the way you know when summer is approaching. In the familiar sense of warmth and brightness that comes with each breaking day. How you know winter will come but it won't last forever. All of that was there in her.

And here he lay, dying.

"Must it be?" Harry asked, sinking back into the pillows. It was becoming harder and harder to breathe. His vision began to grow dark, but he was determined to fight off the darkness for as long as he could. Harry had fought the darkness in the past, and was triumphant. Why should this time be any different?

Tears now began to flow freely down her face as she clutched the other letter. So many years were lost because of it. Because of some person or being destined to keep them apart. How many years had she hated him because of it? Because she thought he had left her; abandoned her. And now...

"It must be so..." Hermione replied, closing her eyes. Her heart was breaking for a second time, and this time there would be no healing.

'Better to have loved and lost than never loved at all, my arse,' she thought bitterly. 'It's true, but it doesn't make this any less painful'

Still, she'd have given anything to have a second chance with him. That she would have gone to see him afterwards. To talk... to forgive...

A cough raked through his body, bringing tears to both their eyes. Hermione knew it wouldn't be long now. She stood to bring in the rest of his family. They should be here with him. She couldn't be here alone.

With a feeble grasp, Harry reached out to take her hand. He kept Hermione from leaving, a silent plea in his eyes. He had faced one darkness on his own, but he wanted her here this last time.

"But Louisa... Ron..." Hermione said, looking towards the door.

"They need never know. It was sudden," Harry said softly, pulling Hermione closer to the bed. "I want you here... I... I'm sorry for what happened. Maybe next time..." Harry trailed off before he found his voice yet again. "That's crazy. There won't be a next time... this was our chance... and I blew it..."

Hermione took Harry's hands in her own, kissing their intertwined fingers. "We are both to blame," she said softly, blinking back tears. "And there will be a next time... it won't end like this, Harry. I promise you."

Harry smiled weakly. "But even some promises can't be kept."

"I will always love you, Harry," she said, placing one final kiss on his forehead. "And nothing will ever change that."

Harry smiled, feeling a heaviness upon his eyelids. The darkness was closing in on him, no matter how hard he tried to fight it off. He could now see figures before him, beckoning him to come home with them. All he wanted now was peace. Harry turned his head to look upon Hermione for one last time. He raised a hand up to caress her cheek, imprinting the feel of her skin upon his memory for all time.

The darkness pulled at him, but he watched Hermione until the very last. He closed his eyes as he exhaled for the last time.

"Goodnight... my immortal beloved..."