Reaching the Light

Harry

Voldemort lies on the ground, crumpled up, his face blank- and peaceful? - in death. His evil red eyes filmed over forever, his chalky white skin cold. I sway. My head pounds and my eyes blur. I have done it. I have destroyed Voldemort. I have saved them all.

The world is getting fuzzy. I can see Hermione running towards me. Her wand is clutched in her hand. She looks beautiful even with blood on her face and her hair wild. I love her so much.

It's getting so hard to breathe.

I put a hand out to steady myself but there's nothing to hold on, nobody to hold on to. My friends are far away. Too far. My hand is bloody with a gash across it. I stare blankly at it but it's all blurry. I can't see anything. The world tips dizzily. Air is no longer there. I struggle for breath. I see Hermione, her face distraught. She's coming towards me, but I don't think she's coming fast enough. She's saying something. I sway again. I feel so tired. I feel so heavy. I'm so cold. The world spins. The last thing I see is Hermione's distressed face.

Then I give in and let the darkness take me.

Hermione

I saw Harry fall onto the ground, and I screamed.

"Help! Help! Ron, Remus!"

They came running towards me, but I could only point to Harry's still figure on the ground. We all sped towards him- around the dead bodies on the ground. I couldn't stop to recognize faces. I couldn't bear to recognize faces. I could hear footsteps behind me and knew others were coming.

I ran towards Harry, flinging myself on my knees beside him. He was lying on the cold ground where he had fallen, his eyes closed. His head was lolling limply to one side. Ron and Remus were right behind me. I grabbed for his hand, but he didn't move. Desperately I felt for a pulse.

"Breathe, Harry," I ordered, through tears that were starting to roll. "Breathe."

Ron knelt beside me, his face pale. He had a long gash down his cheek. He felt Harry's chest, then put his cheek that wasn't bleeding to Harry's open mouth. He put a hand on Harry's chest.

"Breathe, Harry," I begged. "Breathe!" I clutched his cold hand to my chest, rocking back and forth. "Breathe," I whimpered. "Please breathe." I kissed his hand. "Come back to me, Harry," I whispered.

Then Ron jerked. "He's alive!" he shouted. I inhaled sharply.

Remus came up behind us with a stretcher he must have gotten from our makeshift hospital. I was sobbing, but I managed to get some words out.

"Harry needs to go to St. Mungo's," I said thickly. I couldn't bear to see Harry's still, still form. Thought Ron had said he was alive, I could hardly see the faint movement of his chest.

Remus nodded, and together we lifted Harry's prone body onto the stretcher and took him away.

Albus Dumbledore

I came into St. Mungo's. I was tired and weary from the long battle. My biggest foe was dead. But there was no time for rejoicing yet.

"Can you tell me...?" I said to the witch behind the counter.

"Mr. Potter's room is on the fourth floor, sir. Room 582." The witch said "Mr. Potter" with a kind of hushed reverence, her plump face rounded with anxiety. I nodded at her.

"Thank you," I said, and hurried to his room. I put my head in the door. There wasn't anybody there except for Hermione Granger. She was sitting by the bed, her back to me. She was holding Harry's hand.

Harry lay on the bed, the sheets tucked securely around him. His face on the pillow was so deathly pale it was almost like he was translucent. His eyes were closed, and I could hardly tell if he was breathing or not.

To me it was like I was looking upon my son's deathbed. I loved Harry like my child and so see him so close to death was horrifying. As I watched, Hermione reached out and smoothed his unruly hair with her hand. Even his hair cooperated under her gentle touch- like there was no life in him anymore. Her fingers were trembling.

I entered the room. Hermione's head turned around.

"Hello, Professor." Her voice was shaky, like she had cried for a long time.

"Hello, Miss Granger." I crossed the room and sat down on the other side of Harry's bed. "How is he?"

Hermione's voice was flat and drained. "The same, Professor. He hasn't shown any improvement yet."

I sighed, a long, weary sigh.

"Why don't you go get something to eat, Miss Granger? I can sit by him for a while."

Hermione shook her head. "I need to stay with him." Her voice was shuddering but certain.

I looked down at the Boy-Who-Lived. The boy who had affected us all. The boy who had saved us.

I reached out and caressed Hermione's hand. "It will be all right, Hermione," I said, but there was no genuine reassurance in my voice.

Hermione

People came to visit, but I stayed there. I had to stay there. I had to stay with Harry.

Professor Dumbledore tried to get me to rest, but I couldn't. There was no possible chance of me sleeping. Not with my beloved Harry like this.

Through heavy-lidded eyes, I saw the clock ring six. "Time for your potion, Harry," I murmured. I summoned the potion to me with a careless sweep of my wand. The word Accio brought me back to times when Harry had needed to learn the charm. Carefully, I opened Harry's mouth, lifting his head gently from the pillow. Tenderly, I slowly poured the potion in. Harry didn't swallow. Almost crying at his weakness, I held him, my love, until it had all gone down.

He didn't change. Still his face was expressionless and peaceful. I let his head rest on the pillow again. Still his breathing was slow and shallow. Still his eyes remained shut.

I bent over him. "Hello, Harry. It's me- Hermione. I'm sitting here by you. Will you wake up soon, Harry? Do you remember anything, Harry?" I whispered in his ear. This was pointless- yet there was the faintest chance he could hear me. I stroked his arm, fingered his hand in mine. "Do you remember me and you? How we promised to love each other, forever and ever. How we would make love together and lie in each others' arms until noon, before Molly made us pancakes. How Ginny would giggle when she saw us walking hand in hand and call us lovebirds. Do you remember, Harry?"

I was crying again, but gently. "Do you remember, Harry?" One of my tears fell on his nose. I wiped it away, carefully, tenderly. "Do you remember? How you used to kiss me just after I brushed my teeth because you said you liked the taste of my toothpaste. How we used to go to Hogsmeade and sample Honeydukes chocolate, and one time we were chased out of the store because we weren't buying anything. Can you remember, Harry?" Harry's eyes were closed. I kissed him ever so lightly on his cold lips. I closed my eyes too and lay my head on his chest, gentle not to stop his slight breathing.

"Come back to me, Harry," I whispered. "Come back to me, my Harry."

Remus Lupin

I entered Harry's room. Hermione was still there. She had fallen asleep, her head on Harry's chest, her hand entwined on his. I looked at them for a while- my best friend's son and a girl whom I had grown to love.

Harry, if possible, had grown even paler. His white face had a pinched look, but it was still peaceful. His hair wasn't sticking up as usual, it was meekly lying flat. His forehead was smoothed out, like his troubles had been washed away. There were tiny little beads of sweat on the side of his forehead. I watched him breathe- in, pause, out. In, pause, out. It was so fragile, his breathing that every time he paused I wanted to leap over and force my air into his delicate body. Harry had saved us all, and here he lay on the brink of death.

Hermione's brown hair had spread onto Harry as she lay, sleeping. She had refused to sleep or eat until Harry woke up- but I couldn't tell her that I wasn't sure if he'd ever wake up. I didn't want to disturb her. I trod lightly and eased into the other chair beside Harry's bed.

In, pause, out. I found myself counting the seconds before the tiny rise of Harry's chest fell. He was what was left of James- he was precious to me. I counted with him- holding my breath until he breathed. In, pause, out.

I didn't even know I was crying until I felt the drip of tears on my hand. We had all cried for Harry and it was my turn. But I knew nobody had cried more then Hermione. She loved him. I loved him too.

In, pause, out.

I wanted to scream my frustration. I wanted to tell everybody that this boy had saved us all from the tyranny of Voldemort and was dying for it. I wanted to save him. I wanted to give up my life for his. But I knew there was nothing I could do now but wait.

As if interrupted by my thoughts, Hermione stirred. She lifted up her face to see me. Her face was ashen.

"Remus- what are you doing here?"

"Same thing you're doing here," I murmured back.

Hermione looked a little taken aback. She glanced tenderly at Harry's wan face, and then sat up, rubbing her eyes. "How long was I out?"

"I have no idea, dear girl, but I'm sure you needed it." I offered her a wan smile.

Hermione blinked slowly. "I shouldn't have slept."

"You can't stop Nature, Hermione." I got up and kissed Harry on the forehead. His skin was cold. Then I turned to Hermione.

"Would you like something to eat?"

Hermione looked slowly at Harry, then at me. "No. Not really."

I nodded. I kissed Hermione too on the cheek. Then I smoothed her hair. "I'll be back."

"I'm sure you will," she replied distantly. She was already returning to her post at Harry's side. I blinked back sudden tears.

I went to the door and looked back. Hermione was sitting by Harry's bed, her hand holding his. I couldn't find any words to tell her that I thought he was going to die.

Hermione

Harry was fading. I knew this. His hand was getting colder. But my love wasn't fading. I was not going to let him die.

I kissed his hand. "Harry, Harry, Harry," I murmured, over and over. For each time I said his name, I wanted to cry a tear. But I had promised myself I wouldn't cry anymore. That didn't help Harry. And it was all about Harry now.

Ron

I entered into Harry's room. Hermione sat by his bed, holding his hand. I wanted to hold his hand too. My best friend Harry.

I had fought with him over everything and anything. Girls, money, attention...But now that we got the true core, Harry was my best friend. Once we met on the train, that first day, we bonded. He'd been my true friend. We had fought Death Eaters together. He couldn't die.

I took the seat opposite Hermione. Her eyes were reddened by tears and her face unreadable. She held Harry's hand like she could save him. Like she could pull him back.

I touched her lightly on the shoulder. "Is he getting better, Mione?"

She shook her head, stroking his hand. Her eyes held a hopeless look.

"I know he will," I promised. But promises were ashes in my mouth. They were worth nothing now. I had come to say goodbye.

I looked into Harry's face. His closed eyes gave the impression that he was sleeping, and I could imagine he was sleeping. Then I could imagine we were back at Hogwarts and he was sleeping in his dorm bed. He would wake up, and we would go to breakfast.

I knew the chances of Harry waking up were not very good now. But when I looked into my best mate's face, I couldn't say it. I couldn't say goodbye. I had to hang on to hope.

Harry seemed so still. I watched his breathing instead. I had lifted him onto a stretcher with some difficulty, but now it seemed like he had lost weight. It had to be my imagination; it had only been three days. His face was colourless, which made his hair stand out on his forehead.

I touched him. His skin was so cold. Hermione glanced up and looked at me, and I prayed the threesome would not be split up. I had liked Hermione, but given her up for Harry when I saw how much he wanted her. Now I was entreating all that was good that I wouldn't have to give up Harry.

"Hang on, Harry," I said softly.

Hermione

I left Harry's side and went to the window in his room. I drew it open with a wave of my wand. Outside, there was a layer of white. Snow spiralled down. I swallowed. Harry and I used to love snow. We would go outside and throw snow at each other, and usually end up kissing.

I turned back to Harry. My beloved Harry. I still had not given up hope in him. I knew he could fight.

I sat back down by his bed. I kissed him. His face was like snow- so cold and white.

"Look at the snow, Harry," I whispered. I angled his bed so his face was turned towards the window. The snow was so beautiful, in it's delicate flakes coming from the sky. I wanted him to see it too. I wanted him to open those brilliant green eyes and look at the snow. I wanted him to so badly I could feel it burning up inside of me.

I wanted him to live.

I had promised not to cry again. Now I broke my promise. I wept for Harry, I wept for the beauty in the snow in a god-forsaken world. No good god could let Harry, who had suffered so much, die. No good god would let me be alone in this world.

I rocked back and forth in the chair by Harry's bed. "Harry...Harry..." I sobbed. I closed my eyes but I could feel the tears squeezing out anyways. I wanted to die too. I couldn't live without Harry.

"Harry...Harry..."

This was so pointless, so useless, so childish, but I couldn't stop crying, I couldn't stop taking big hiccupy gulps of air. Then I heard a noise. It was a noise that stopped me crying.

"Hermione, why are you crying?"

I stared at my Harry. His eyes were half-way open. A frail smile was on his face.

"Oh, Harry!" I wept. I flung myself on my beautiful, beautiful Harry. I kissed him, I stroked him, I hugged him, I clutched him to me. I wouldn't let him go. Never and ever would I ever let him leave me again.

Harry had closed his eyes again, but when I kissed him I could feel him feebly kissing me back. His breathing was stronger. I caressed his forehead. "You've come back, Harry," I murmur.

Harry smiled faintly. "I was never away, my heart."

Then he slipped into sleep. But this time I could tell- it was not the slow, agonizing sleep of death. It was the sleep of life.

Harry

I was floating on a big black sea. Swallowed up by darkness. My body felt like ice- if I had a body. Then I heard Hermione- faintly, dimly through much obscurity. She was crying. And I wondered, why is she crying? Why is my love crying?

And I crossed the line of life and death and came back to the land of the living. I had to find Hermione. I had to stop her crying.

When I opened my eyes, I could hear her crying beside me. My body felt like lead. I felt tired and sluggish, my head ached, everything hurt. But I had come back to find Hermione. And find her I did.

I would never tell anyone what it felt like to be in limbo. To be between life and death. Most of the time I felt like giving up. Like letting the darkness take me completely. But I will tell people that it was Hermione who brought me back.