She said, "I'll go with you."
The next moment she is in his arms, holding him like she always had. Arms around his neck, her face turned into the crook of his neck as she buried her nose into him. It dawns on him then that Hermione was the one to hug him for the first time in his entire life and now she would be the last. The thought is comforting; Harry feels this is exactly how it should go.
It's hard to let go of her. Her hugs have always been his safe space, somewhere where it's him and her and nothing and no one else. Time doesn't exist either; it freezes for them here. Harry realizes then that anything happens: it's only to make sure Hermione hugs him.
In the brief moment, where time is an illusion and Hermione is there in his arms: human and alive and warm and intoxicating; it is then that Harry wants to break down. He knows he won't survive; he can't if they want to win because he's a Horcrux. He made his peace with it too- he had an inkling he would die anyway. But right now, as his mind goes blank of everything not Hermione, he thinks it isn't fair. He wants a lifetime of being in Hermione's arms: she's his peace and his home.
So when it hits him as she steps away that he loves her- loves her in the way where he wants to pull her back in and kiss her till the worlds end and they're nothing but dust and still he would find a way to keep her close- he wants to laugh bitterly because of course he would only realize it when he's about to go die. Nothing would be more fitting for his life: finding out who the love of his life just as he's about to lose it. He had seven years; seven years of Hermione being by his side, always and forever the source of his warm happy feeling. Seven years of moments filled with either being with her or thinking of her and he realizes he loves her at the literal end moment of his life, right after she and his best mate kissed, in the middle of a war. How dumb do you have to be to do nothing but think of a person for seven fucking years, about how you love them and they make your life worth living and how you would do just about anything to keep them safe and happy, and not realize that shit, I'm in love with them?
Apparently, as dumb as Harry.
Harry tears his eyes away from the sight of Hermione sobbing in Ron's arms and starts making his way through the castle toward the clearing in the Forbidden Forest where Voldemort awaits. He swipes at his tears angrily, because they're futile and useless and late. It's not fair, his mind repeats again and again and again. It's on a loop in his head as his vision blurs with new tears. It's so bloody unfair that he suddenly wants to live when he has to die; wants to live to see Hermione in his arms, wants to kiss her and fight for a chance with her. Live as long as she does and have her smile at him or because of him every day. Live to tell her he was utterly, irrevocable hers and even if she chose Ron, he would remain one of her best friends. Live to swing her off the floor and kiss her till they were both breathless heaps of indignified idiots. Live to have a life full of moments of being with Hermione or thinking of her. Live to have days of watching her eyes sparkle and her hair misbehave. Live to twirl her curls around his fingers. Live to watch the sunlight dappled across her skin on lazy afternoons. Live to kiss her smile and get lost in her gold-flecked eyes. Live to lose his train of thought as he wondrously tried to count the shades in her hair as the sunlight caught the strands and made them shine. Live to watch her eyes deepen with emotion. Live to have dreamy days with his head in her lap as the sunlight painted them in soft golden hues.
It's so un-fucking-fair.
He makes his way through the mostly empty courtyard and to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Here, he thinks, is where I swung up Hermione in my arms after we visited Grawp and in our absence Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup. This is where Hermione broke her first rule as our friend, all the way back in 1st year, when she conjured bluebell flames in a jar. This is where I resolved to brave every danger in the forest if that meant her being un-petrified. This...
His mind was a record of memories of Hermione. His only consolation was that soon Hermione would get to live in a world where she wouldn't be slit for being who she was. And she would love Ron and slowly but surely she would start to forget him. He would die with her on his mind which was exactly how it was supposed to be.
Taking a deep breath. Harry walked into the Forest and let himself smile as his hand played with the snitch Dumbledore had given him and his mind a whirlpool of Hermione.