Godplayer

Draco was woken up by Dobby the next morning.

"How is Potter now, Dobby?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

Dobby sniffed.

Draco sat up, worried.

"What's wrong, Dobby?"

"Dobby can't heal Harry Potter sir! Dobby's magic is reflected off!"

"He's countering your magic sub-consciously? But...that would mean he has no desire to heal!"

Dobby sobbed louder than before.

"We have to tell Hermione about this, Dobby. She is an expert at Healing - she might be able to do something."

Dobby nodded eagerly.

Ten minutes later, Draco and Dobby were talking to Hermione, who was bewildered and furious to learn about their nightly excursion.

"Does this happen often, Dobby?" she asked when they had finished their narrative.

Dobby nodded unhappily.

"Is he awake?"

Dobby shook his head.

Hermione stood up determinedly.

"Then it's about time he rose."

Hermione and Draco seated themselves around Harry's bed, while Dobby stood nearby, wringing his hands. Harry's face looked strangely open and vulnerable, but his aura of power remained untouched.

"Harry?" Hermione called softly. There was no response. If it hadn't been for the very slight rise and fall of his chest, he could have been dead, so pale was his face.

"Renervate."

Harry's eyes snapped open as Hermione lowered her wand. He tried to sit up but Hermione firmly pushed him back.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" she asked, keeping her voice carefully neutral.

"I'm fine," he said defiantly.

"Good," she said and turned to Dobby, "Dobby, will you please get Harry some warm milk?"

Dobby nodded eagerly and disappeared.

"Really, Hermione..." Harry began, but she cut him off with a gesture.

"You were seen last night."

Harry slumped back and said nothing. Dobby appeared with the milk and thrust it into Harry's unwilling hands.

"Drink," ordered Hermione. Harry obeyed reluctantly.

"Who saw me?" he asked, handing the empty goblet to Dobby.

"I did, Potter," said Draco, "it was really scary. What was that mirror all about?"

Harry looked away. Hermione shot Draco a look and he nodded curtly before getting up and leaving the room.

"Harry..."

Harry looked up into Hermione's brown eyes and saw the pain he was feeling reflected there. He closed his eyes and fell back.

"Why do you do this to yourself, Harry? You can't stop living..."

"Yeah, I know," said Harry bitterly, "not for lack of trying though."

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione sharply.

Harry laughed mirthlessly. Hermione caught his shoulders and shook him.

"What the hell are you up to, Harry? You can't let the past ruin your future!"

"Aren't you tired of saying that?" he shot back.

"No. I'll repeat as long as I have to," she said stubbornly.

Harry's glare burnt though her before looked down and his shoulders slumped.

"You don't understand..."

"Too right. And I have no desire to understand your self-destructive tendencies, either."

Harry smiled coldly at her, and Hermione resisted a desire to shrink back. Harry had transformed into a powerful wizard after Dumbledore's death at the end of their sixth year, his fury unleashing his latent prowess. He had finally killed Voldemort in their final year, thereby earning himself the title of the most powerful living wizard.

But the victory had come at a price. While Harry and Hermione were busy destroying the final horcrux, Voldemort and his Death Eaters had attacked the Burrow and killed all the Weasleys on Christmas Eve. Hermione's parents had been there as well. Only Percy, Fred and George had survived. Percy, because he had been estranged from his family, and the twins because they had been on a trial for illegal use of dragon blood in one of their inventions. They were fined heavily and sent home to enjoy their Christmas. But when they reached Ottery St. Catchpole, there was nothing left at the Burrow except corpses in the smouldering ruins of the house, with the Dark Mark hanging overhead.

Harry had never forgiven himself for the Weasley massacre. He and Hermione were supposed to be there at the Burrow when it was attacked, but they had just discovered the whereabouts of the last horcrux, and they had to go to Sussex for that. They had informed the Weasleys that they would be late, and their tardiness had been the death of the family, in Harry's opinion. When they had arrived at the Burrow flushed with victory at having destroyed the last horcrux, they had found Fred and George weeping over their dead.

It had driven Harry mad. Hermione could clearly remember his reaction at the sight...he had gone pale as death, and his eyes had glowed green - the colour of Avada Kedavra. Hermione had seen the curse too many times by then not to identify it. She had felt his power as he strode towards the ruins, his face grim and determined. She and the twins had sobbed their hearts out, but Harry had not shed a single tear, not even when he had pulled Ginny's lifeless body out of the ruins. He had supported a very faint Hermione as the twins brought out Ron's body, but he had not cried. Not even at the funeral had he shown any emotion.

As soon as the funeral was over, he had given her a kiss on the cheek and said, "It is time."

She had understood.

"Let me come with you," she had said, not wanting to let him face Voldemort and his minions all alone.

"No."

"Harry, you are not the only one who mourns the Weasleys! I lost my family, too..."

Grief had flashed across his face for an instant, a sorrow so deep that Hermione had forgotten to breathe. He extended his hand and she took it. They began their search for Voldemort, and finally, on New Year's Eve, Harry had vanquished the Dark Lord, fulfilling the prophecy.

Hermione pulled herself away from her memories.

"Harry..." she said softly, "it has been too long for you to continue grieving...please let it go. Ginny will terrorize me eternally if I die with you like this..."

Harry's eyes flashed.

"You are not going to die," he said slowly, coldly, emphasising each word.

"Oh, honestly!"

"You are the last part of me that is alive, Hermione. If you die..."

"You would feel lost? Lonely? Alone in the whole world?"

"Yes," he muttered, staring at his hands.

"And that is exactly what I have been feeling for the past seven years, Harry. Because you refuse to live. At first I thought you needed time to mourn. I gave you that. But instead of setting aside the past, you have chosen to wallow in your grief and guilt. No matter what I have tried in these years, you have responded negatively. You have shut yourself up in this castle, refusing to face the world."

"I haven't! I do go out!"

"And when was the last time you went out?"

"I...I...I came to you when you were battling Osor!"

"Any other instances?"

"I went with you to Scandinavia and Congo. I go with you whenever you need my help."

"Which essentially requires me to be in life-threatening situations."

"Are you saying that is my fault?" said Harry angrily.

"No. I am saying that it is rather sad that I have to be in mortal peril to be with my best friend."

"You're always welcome here."

"Am I, Harry? Do you remember my last visit? You told me clearly that you wanted me to leave you alone."

Harry flushed.

"And yet I came running the moment Draco suggested we consult you, in spite of swearing that I would never set foot in your castle again. Do you know why?"

Harry shook his head.

"I realized that you were too important for me. I realized that I wanted my best friend back, no matter what. Pick up the pieces and start living Harry. I'm not saying that it's easy or anything, but you have to do it. For my sake, if not your own. I want my friend with me all the time, not just when I'm on the doors of death. Let it go, Harry. It's about damn time!"

Harry stared at her and she stared back defiantly, biting her lip furiously to keep the tears from spilling. They remained like that for a whole minute, before Harry dropped his face in his hands and wept, his tears washing away the guilt and the grief that had plagued him for the past seven years. Hermione threw her arms around him and held him as he sobbed.

When they finally broke apart, there was a tremulous smile on Harry's face.

"Now, about Riftaz..." he began, but he was interrupted by the door bursting open to reveal a very agitated Draco Malfoy.