My Everything: The Hermione Monologues

Thank you: A huge thank you goes to Plumeria for her beta and her support and encouragement. Without her, these monologues would never have seen the light of day.

The love of my life has been dead for two months, and I miss her more than I can put into words.

I know Hermione only held on as long as she did for me. As the disease ravaged her body, she fought it, although I know that the part of her that had been dead for sixty years was crying out to join Harry.

Harry.

I still miss him. Sometimes, something will trigger a memory, and I'll remember him. Remember the thirteen wonderful years of friendship we shared until his life was taken so abruptly, and our world was thrown into chaos.

I was right behind him when the accident happened, and sometimes in my nightmares, I relive it. I see his car spinning around and around, and me rushing up to it to pull him out, but it was too late. The hospital said later he'd died almost instantly.

Having to tell Hermione remains one of the hardest things I've ever had to do in my life. And I didn't even need to say the words - she could see it in my eyes. I still remember her reaction. Screaming his name and the word "no" over and over until it was so far embedded in my brain that it was all I heard for days afterwards.

I forced myself to concentrate on the baby. I'd already lost Harry; I was slowly losing Hermione in her grief; so I was damned if I was going to lose their child as well. So I gradually integrated myself into her life. I went over every day for hours and sat with her, listening to her talk, holding her while she cried, making sure she did simple things, like eat. I don't know how many times she couldn't remember when her last meal was, and I was terrified she was starving herself and the baby. One day, I snapped. I told her that Harry would have been upset to see her neglecting their baby. I was angry at myself for losing my temper later, but it seemed to do the trick.

Hermione got herself into a routine of trying to live each day at a time. I was there as much as she needed me to be. She told me years later, when we were married, that she didn't think she would ever have made it through without me.

I was there when she pushed Harry's daughter into the world, and Hermione insisted that the mediwitch hand her to me first. I took the tiny bundle in my arms, aware that tears steadily leaked down my face, and leaned over to show her to her mother. Hermione cried tears of joy and sadness as Harry's daughter wrapped a tiny hand around her finger. She had Harry's raven hair, and his chin. I could see him in her, and it broke my heart that he wasn't there to see her too.

I don't remember exactly when it was that I fell in love with Hermione. Maybe I had been all along. However, I do remember feeling so guilty. Not only did I covet another man's wife, but it was Harry's wife. Even though nothing was happening between us yet, I still felt like I was betraying Harry.

I've often wondered whether he would have been pleased that Hermione found happiness again with me. I'd like to think so; if anyone could have loved Hermione as much as he did, then it was me. She allowed me to help her raise their child as my own; she allowed Victoria to call me Dad, even though she could so easily have corrected her; and she eventually married me and allowed me to adopt the most precious thing Harry had left behind - his daughter.

I love Victoria as dearly as I do my own sons. She never once, during all the arguments we had when she was growing up, turned around and made a comment about my not being her real father. I was often afraid that she might bring it up.

The night before her wedding, we sat on the verandah in the swing as we contemplated what the future held. The discussion moved onto life in general, and she asked me to talk about Harry. Asked me whether he would have liked the man she was about to marry. She listened quietly as I offered my opinion, and then she turned to me and said how much she regretted that Harry wasn't alive, that after everything she'd heard from Hermione and Sirius and myself, he must have been a wonderful man. I agreed with a lump in my throat, and then Victoria continued. She told me that although Harry was her biological father, she considered me her real father, and she loved me so much. Then she put her arms around me as I shed silent tears, and I hugged my daughter back with everything I had.

All of our children are grown now, with grown children of their own. But it still feels like yesterday that I held each of them in my arms when they were minutes old.

They're all I have left, now that Hermione is gone. Victoria sees me every day to make sure I'm okay, but I'm not. I won't ever be okay until I see them again. I hope their reunion was a joyful one; I know Harry waited a long time for Hermione to come back to him. I'll always be forever grateful for his patience, and I hope that he'll be pleased to see me, too, when I join them on the other side.

I don't think I'll be around much longer, either. I miss them too much. I want to see Hermione again. My place is prepared next to them, and they're waiting.

I don't want to keep them waiting much longer.

(end)