Harry couldn't take his eyes away from the locket version of himself and Hermione. They were horrifying, they were wrong, they were... profane. He watched, frozen as the scene played out before him. However, when the end of the memory came, it didn't end.
Instead, the demonic Harry and Hermione looked over at him (Ron now nowhere to be seen), and smiled cruelly.
The demonic Harry spoke then, in a voice that made his blood run cold, for it very clearly wasn't his own, as the figure started to change. "Oh, yes, like she'd ever pick you, Harry Potter. You don't deserve this, you don't deserve her!"
Harry was left gaping at the figure, human-like, but now with horns and draped in a cloak of shadow instead of clothes. A cold laugh caused him to look back at the mockery of Hermione, who smiled evilly at him. "Oh, yes. Like anyone would want you! You're nothing special; you've only ever been 'just Harry'. And all those people died for you."
Harry was sobbing now, pleading, as the twisted image of Hermione glared down at him. But, then he felt warm, familiar hands cup his face, and through the nightmare heard the sweet and caring voice that he loved calling him back. The demonic things before him screamed, but he couldn't hear them, and instead he opened his eyes to see Hermione's warm, chocolate eyes watching him worriedly. It struck him how *heavenly* she looked, like an angel. Nothing like that perversion in his nightmare.
He surged forward to kiss her, and she relaxed slightly in his embrace, before pulling away slightly. She cupped his face lovingly with her hands. "Harry, it was just a dream. I'm here. And I'm never leaving..."
Harry felt tears slide down his cheeks, and he pulled her back into a kiss. He knew the demons of his past would probably never leave him completely, but as long as he had his angel here to guide him back, he could keep them at bay. He smiled against her lips, as he felt her hum in content.