Freedom

I found him in the Astronomy Tower, sitting precariously on the edge, legs dangling over the side. His head, elegant and confident, was lifted towards the moon and his hands were gripping the tower's wall as though it was his lifeline. With the strain of his grip, his knuckles had turned a sickly white. As I neared, I heard the uneven pattern of his breath, visible against the cold, November air. The colour of his lips, normally a light cherry red, was the faintest of pinks, becoming a light, soft blue.

How long had he been sitting out here?

I had noticed his absence during the feast at dinner. That had been some two hours ago and I had spent them wandering around the castle, following the portraits' advice until I had ended up in a secluded, desolate part of the castle that I never wished to visit again. The time was ten o'clock and hardly a morsel dared to be out of their common rooms at this time, though it was not unheard of, lest they be caught out of bounds by Filch or a Professor. Harry didn't need to worry about that, what with his invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map. I, on the other hand, had been ducking through corridors, sneaking through passageways and diving past the noisier routes of the castle.

Earlier on in my search, Ron and Ginny had been helping me. Soon after, however, Ginny had been snagged from us by her boyfriend of the moment, Dean Thomas and Ron had bunked off, completing some essay that was probably due tomorrow. I had been left alone. I wonder what that said about both myself and them.

Harry's emerald eyes swerved around to my profile as my sensible shoes rattled particularly loud against the stone flooring, glinting under the limited light from the sky. I tried to ignore how demonic he looked, his dark hair blowing around his pale, near unblemished skin and his eyes shining with intensity and intelligence. Against Harry, I was boring. A plain Jane. He was a god lost in humanity whilst I had been blessed with a brain far superior to my peers but outstandingly contrasting looks. I suppose you can't have it all…

He didn't smile and, for a moment, I was glad he didn't. A smile would've ruined the image of Dark beauty he was at that point in time. With a face like his, with such a hidden haunt underlining it, a smile would've looked force, artificial. And Harry's persona was 100% natural. Even so, a smile would have been reassuring. Harry always smiled, even though he was torn up inside.

I had never been jealous of Harry. Ever.

Ron, unfortunately, had not been raised in the muggle world. He didn't understand that while the Light always won, they always had the worst path, a path that was filled with trauma, death and pain. Harry went through that alone, putting up a front that was so believable that you could actually forget that he was prophesied to defeat the strongest Dark Lord for centuries yet.

"Why are you up here, Harry?" I asked worriedly, wringing my hands nervously.

The air was so tense, like it was buzzed up waiting for a big event to happen. My breaths came in shallow, short gasps and I watched helplessly as Harry stood up on the ledge and walked towards me, his emerald eyes captivating my own brown ones. Now, a small, morbid smile had crept up onto his face. Harry didn't smile like that. His smiles were sweet, innocent and, sometimes, fake but this smile was full of irony and malice. He stood in front of me, his height taller than mine by about a head due to a recent growth spurt he had gone through. He caressed my face with his forefinger and I shivered at his ice cold touch.

"H-harry," I gasped.

He silenced me by making a quiet 'shhh'ing sound. Now, the emerald eyes sparkled like there was some great funny joke that he was about to tell me.

"Do you think they care about me?" He whispered, still softly stroking my face. "Or the fact that I'm the one who has the job of defeating Voldemort?"

I gasped. "I care."

He nodded absently, "I know. You wouldn't have come otherwise." He paused, staring out into the starry sky behind me. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

He was referring to the dazzling full moon that hung above, a circle of light in the dark navy sky. Even from the far away distance that we were, it still shone like the sun, which was even further away from our tiny planet, and was perhaps even more beautiful. The dark circles on the moon, craters, stood stark against the whiteness and it was perfect. The light it gave, a silver colour, bathed the Astronomy Tower, including Harry and I, casting shadows in odd places and across both our faces. Harry closed his eyes briefly before opening them and they bored into mine, dazzling green into boring brown.

I thought he was going to kiss me for a moment, but then he turned away, facing the opposite direction again. Why would he kiss me? I was nothing compared to him. No one. The glassless parts of the wall, several squares of nothing but a railing to stop people from falling off, showed off several parts of the grounds in an almost 360 degree viewpoint. The Astronomy Tower had always been one of my favourite places and, obviously, Harry's too.

"Yes, it is." I agreed.

His back was still facing me, staring out into the forbidden forest. "Not for Remus though."

"No."

The seemingly mindless chatter was making me cautious. Something was going to happen. Something big. Harry was going to drop a bombshell and I had no idea what it was and that scared me more than Voldemort or his Death Eaters ever could.

"Tell me, why do you like it up here?" His voice was soft, dangerously soft.

I sighed and walked over to one of the 'windows'. Through it there was a view of the lake, glinting like a diamond under the moonlight. The grass, a deep green, swayed to the harsh wind and the trees of the forbidden forest noisily swung too. In the summer, the colours seemed almost lighter, a more emerald green grass and a soft blue lake. I shook my head.

"Does there have to be a specific reason?"

I could almost feel Harry smile. "Good. I like to watch the night sky. I can close my eyes and see the sky and I could be lost in the Darkness," He said, hands shoved into his robes pockets, "I can pretend that all of this doesn't exist." He swung around, his hands lifted out of the pockets and now loosely by his sides. "I can pretend that there isn't a war," His voice cracked and his eyes were desperate, like they had broken him. "I can pretend that people haven't died for me," Tears welled up in his eyes, "God, Hermione, I can pretend that everything's okay but then I have to wake up and it's all so screwed up. Thing is, one day I'm not going to be able to pretend anymore, am I?"

His was so broken, so haunted. He was a mess, standing, bearing it all out to me. I felt lost. There was nothing I could say, what did you say to a spiel like that? Harry had poured his heart out, he had trusted me so much and I couldn't respond with anything that would console him because it was true. All of it. He couldn't run forever, he would have to face Voldemort one day, whether he liked it or not.

"Oh Harry," I moaned, saddened by his burdens. "It's not fair."

I was surprised to hear him laughing. It wasn't a laugh of mirth, but one of bitterness. It was the laugh of someone who had seen all of life's horrors and had lived to become someone stronger. Harry may be one of the youngest in age of our school year, but he was so much more mature. He was far older in maturity. Each year was full of another horror and here Harry was, still standing and winning. How long could he be victorious for? His luck could run out at anytime.

"Life's not fair, Hermione." Harry bitterly said, his eyes hardened and the tears long since gone. He had on him a soldier's glare. "Dumbledore thinks that I'll defeat Voldemort with love. It doesn't mean anything – love is so unspecific. 'S'not like I'm about to go hug the git. Besides, how do I know what love is?" his glare softened slightly, "I've never felt it before, with the Dursleys. The closest thing that I have to love is my friendship with you and Ron. Love never did anyone any good, it got my parents killed, it got Sirius killed…"

I gasped quietly. He had been thinking like that? Lately, after Sirius' death, he had been so closed off, so cold and this was why. Harry was afraid to love because he thought it meant we would die. I would give my life for Harry's, no doubt but would he give his for me? I didn't dare ask; it wasn't important right now.

"T-that's only one side, Harry." I whispered, walking towards him.

He stared at me with pity. "I thought I was in love with Cho but I knew, after we broke up, that it wasn't. It was lust. I wanted Cho but I don't anymore. Sad, I know that I can only experience carnal emotions. I don't think I care anymore." I didn't know which to be more shocked at, his blunt words or the matter of fact tone of which he spoke them.

I tried to ignore his words but they reverberated around my brain like a whirlwind. I can only experience carnal emotions… I don't think I care anymore…I thought I was in love with Cho…

"C'mon Harry, let's go back to Gryffindor Tower." It was easier to hide from all of this. Harry was the Saviour of the Light, he couldn't not love. We could forget about tonight, I could pretend that Harry wasn't slowly dying inside. I could try and pretend that Harry was just as heartless as any cruel Slytherin. But Harry himself had said that you could only pretend for so long before the truth swallowed you whole. We had to do something now or this would consume us.

We would be slaves to our inner demons.

"I don't want to run Hermione. I can't run anymore." Harry said, his voice quiet. "If I go back into that room, I'll have to pretend to be their Goldenboy and I can't."

He closed in the distance between us. We were standing by one of the windows that I had previously looked out of. The view was still beautiful as ever, the moon still shined like normal but I felt that something had changed. I wasn't the same and Harry hadn't been the same person we had all thought he was for quite a while. How long had he been pretending?

The truth was horrible and it burnt like a knife, squirming inside. I couldn't keep this a secret but I had to. I couldn't disappoint Harry. He needed to talk to someone. Though it hurt me to say it, he was unstable. Maybe, just maybe, he would talk to me.

"Then don't," I grabbed his hand, "let me help you. Talk to me."

He was gripping my hand so hard that it hurt. It was like he wanted to crush my hand. I didn't have the heart to tell him, not after what he had told me tonight. He was broken and I was going to fix him, even if it killed me.

"There were times when I was younger, I wanted to fly." Harry stared wistfully up at the sky. "Not with a broom," He said to my confused expression, "but just me in a freefall. Freedom. I was trapped in the cupboard, I'm still constricted and I want to be free. Do you think, if I jumped, that I would be free, Hermione?"

His voice was like a child's; his head was cocked to the side as if he had asked an innocent question. Harry wanted to jump. If he jumped, there was no magic that could bring him back. He also wanted to be free and I wanted Harry to be happy. But I also didn't want Harry to be dead. Though, in mind, Harry had always been so invincible figure who never backed down, who was never afraid. This conversation had thrashed all of those thoughts from mind. The Harry that was no coward and wouldn't give in had become a human being, suffering from so much that he willing to kill himself just to be free.

I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I let him jump but I would be condemning him if I pulled him away. My pain was nothing if Harry could be happy, even if he did die.

"You want to die?" My voice was nearly a whisper, quieter than the wind that viciously whipped our hair around our heads like halos.

Harry shook his head. "I want to be free. At the moment, I'm lost. It's like my life is a maze but I can't find the exit and Voldemort's blocking my path. That's what they want me to do, you know, go out right now and challenge Voldemort to a duel. They don't care about me." He blinked owlishly. "They will only care that I lost or won."

A silence, terrible and heavy, descended on us and there was nothing, again, that I could say to help him. I felt helpless, like a little girl lost in a supermarket. There was nothing I could do. This was something only Harry could solve.

Finally, after what had to be half an hour of tense, serene silence, Harry spoke softly into my ear, "If I did jump, would you jump with me?"

I was stumped. I had so much to live for, such knowledge to learn but how could I live without Harry? He was like the fun part of me, the better part. He meant so much to me; I could only hope to repay him before my death.

"I'd do anything for you, Harry." I don't remember wanting to say it, but it was the truth. I wasn't in love with Harry, not totally, but I was close. He was something akin to a favourite brother. The brother I never had, the sibling I never had. His presence was a constant in my life and I was nothing without it.

That was answer enough for Harry. He leaned downwards, towards my face and softly, our lips touched. The kiss was tender; Harry was thanking me in his kiss and, in his own way, thanking me for being there. How I knew this, I'd never know. It lasted for a few seconds before we pulled away, the lull afterwards almost nothing as he leaned back down again, passion pouring out of his very pores. There was a lusty feel to the air, quite unlike my kisses with Viktor, who had been quite experienced. Victor was nothing on Harry. The very air was buzzing and I felt special.

Harry freaking Potter just kissed me…and now he wanted me to jump off the Astronomy Tower with him…and I would because from that moment, I knew that I loved him. That uncertainty that had tainted me for years had been lifted and Harry had turned from a brother into something so much more.

"Thank you Hermione." He was panting, his breath fogging in front of my face but I couldn't bring myself to care. Instead, I leaned on my tip toes and kissed him again.

To my surprise and relief, he responded. He pushed his tongue into my mouth and our tongues danced. He tasted like mint. I decided at that moment that mint was the best thing in the world. Apart from Harry, of course.

My breathing, once we parted, was erratic and so was his. We stood, my head nuzzled in the nape of his neck and his burrowed into my bushy hair. The wind had continued its relentless barrage but if my hair was annoying him, Harry said nothing. He was sweet like that.

"I'm so selfish, aren't I, Hermione?" He mumbled, "I've just asked you to give everything up for me. You don't have to. I just thought you'd like to fly with me. Together."

I shrugged. "You're not selfish. It'd be selfish if I were to stop you from flying…from being free. I want…I just want you to be happy." I was crying, tears spilling from my eyes and a lump lodging itself into my throat.

He stroked my hair. "You're so beautiful."

It was the first time that anyone outside of my family had told it to me without feeling that they had to. There was no need for Harry to say that, but he had.

He pushed back. Grabbing my hand, he led me to one of the 'windows'. The one that he had been sitting on earlier, I recalled. He nimbly stepped up and I followed, squeezing his hand tight. My heart pumped loudly in my ears, sounding like thunder against the harsh howl of the wind.

"Harry," I told him, "I'm scared."

He smiled, looking so handsome. "It's okay. We'll be free soon; there'll be no war, no trauma."

Because we'll be dead.

Dead. Dead. Dead. It's a funny word for a scary prospect. What does it mean to die? What is death? Dying…but your body dies. Our bodies stop functionally and physically, we're not alive anymore but are we truly dead? Will we walk the Earth after we leave our human bodies? Or will we become someone or something else? After all the pain, will we have to start again? A continuous cycle of pain.

Did Heaven even exist? Oh God, did Hell? What were we getting ourselves in for? An eternal darkness that never ended? Eternally damned to wander alone in some dense, dark place? Oh Lord…

At this point, I could hear nothing over the fierce rhythm of my heart. I'd never realised how amazing this all was, how my body worked perfectly and how my mind was so clever. Why was I doing this? For Harry, the one I had never realised I loved. Harry's life had been so bad, so full of horror, that I was willing to give up mine so he could be free. Was I being selfish?

What would Ron say when he woke up and found his two best friends were dead? Would he cry? How many would miss us, if any at all? Would I have a funeral as grand the thing I had imagined I'd have when I died at the age of one hundred and something, surrounded by various children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, other family members and friends? Obviously not. It didn't matter. Harry mattered. Harry always came first.

My dreams were childish compared to his real life traumas. I was nothing in the grand scale of things. Harry was everything, a God on earth.

We were both standing on the edge. I was waiting for a person, anyone, to come and open the door, to stop us from jumping. We would live but Harry would try again. I wouldn't be able to help him then, but these things always got ruined. Always.

Harry sighed. "I want to fly, I don't want to fall. I want us to fly forever, never stopping and we'd be so free. Though, we have to take what we can get, eh?"

I nodded, terrified as the wind whipped both of our school robes. The ground was so far away. Would it hurt to die?

After a moment, Harry stepped of the ledge, pulling me with him. We fell quickly, locked in an embrace, twirling around in mid air as the moon shone above, watching us fall. It was almost poetic. Harry looked so alive, so happy. I knew he was finally free. His eyes sparkled with joy and he whooped loudly as the wind forced us to do a back flip.

A scream tore from my throat. My stomach had gone into my chest from the force at which we were being pushed down with. I barely managed to stop myself from vomiting. This was torture. The ground grew closer with each passing second. The wet, dewy grass had never felt so damning, so horrible. But at least, for the moment, Harry was happy. That was all that mattered.

My feet were the first things to hit the ground. They snapped with the force of the collision and my world was full of pain. The skin ripped, causing a bone to peer out, blood cascaded from the wound as I dropped forward, my legs unable to support me. Why had I done this? Because you love him, an annoying voice called out.

I don't recall any other injuries because it hurt too much. The pain was blinding but I managed to hear Harry moan before going silent beside me. At least he hadn't suffered. He was gone. Harry was dead. We had just condemned the wizarding world but the thought was soon lost in the agony of my broken bones and what I knew to be a concussion. I could feel yet more blood seep from a sharp wound near my temple, a few centimetres from killing me straight off. I would've preferred that, not as much pain. Thoughts swirled through my head, memories of a distant, better time but a dark cloud had descended upon my vision. My gaze, which had somehow ended up staring at the beautiful moon and sky, began to dim.

The last thing I saw, as I fell into the darkness, was the dazzling full moon still shining in the sky as if nothing had happened.