Hello, lovelies. Here is the last chapter of this story. it is still written in stream of counciousness, so it is disjointed to show the thought process. I loved working on this style, because it is a far cry from my usual writing. I hope you like it. It was inspired by "Come Back When You Can" by Barcelona. Listen to he song while reading, it makes it more impactful. Enjoy!

I've been led on
To think that we've been
Trying for too long.
Every time we drift
We're forcing what is wrong.
At last that voice is gone.

"Is…is he dead?" Bellatrix's voice carried over the murmuring coming from the Death Eater troupe to his newly awakened senses.

He is alive.

The shock of it is almost enough to make him laugh out loud, but he refrains, knowing that if he dies again, he will likely never return.

He feels a presence come up beside him, and realizes its Narcissa Malfoy when she asks softly, "Is he alive? Draco…is he alive?" she pleads for an answer, and he grants her the tiniest of nods, hoping against hope that she will have sympathy for him and say he is dead.

"Dead," she says to the group assembled. Well, thank you, Mrs. Malfoy.

"No!" Hagrid's shout erupts before he is silenced with a charm. Voldemort cackles insanely. It is an annoying sound.

"Giant! Pick up your fallen 'savior'. You will carry him back to the school and show all those Mudbloods that their hope is gone," he says in his frayed and cold voice.

After some rustling, Harry feels himself being lifted by his friend, and he knows he is safe. Now he will wait, for the opportune moment to spring his trap.

Please take your time
But you've got to know that
I am taking sight.
Oh, you look good
with your patient face and wandering eye
Don't hold this war inside.

"Who is that? Neville…who is Hagrid carrying?" Ginny's desperate whisper floats across the space. He feels a pang of guilt for his deception. He wonders if Hermione is there, awaiting the news of his death.

Hermione.

If he manages to win; if he lives through this, he vows he will tell her. Everything. He will hold her and weep and beg her to both forgive him and love him.

He's not above falling to his knees, either.

He knows it's a longshot: she loves Ron, and isn't likely to just accept him because he asks it. But he's going to try.

"Harry Potter…is dead!" the Dark Lord shouts with triumph, and it looks like everyone believes him.

"No!" two voices. One, a hopeless cry, from Ginny. The other, a whispered scream from Hermione. How he hears it from this distance is beyond him.

He wants to reach out and hold Hermione, and reassure her that The-Boy-Who-Lived…Again is not going anywhere so easily. Not where he can't be with her every day and tell her what she means to him.

After a rather heroic speech from Neville, he rallies his courage and tumbles from Hagrid's arms.

Oh, it is on.

Come back when you can.
Let go, you'll understand.
You've done nothing at all to make me love you less.
So come back when you can.

It is over.

Odd, how much comfort and grief can come from those three simple words. The Light has won, Voldemort is gone forever, and he is alive. Weird…he didn't count on that last part.

And now its time.

He's been wandering the grounds for some time, feeling lost now that his sole purpose for the last seventeen years has been brought to fulfillment.

A hand comes to his shoulder. "Harry?"

And he knows that voice. Knows it like he knows his own name, but oh, he's never heard his name said like she says it. With music and light and reverence and affection that only her voice can perfect.

Hermione.

"Hey, 'Mione. How are you holding up?" he turns to her, and the sheer beauty that radiates from her takes his breath away. She grins, taking his hand and inspecting it.

"Forget about me." Yeah, right. "I came to see how you were faring."

He smiles back, touched by her concern for him, though he really shouldn't be surprised. It's just going to take some getting used to this whole I'm alive thing.

"I'm doing fine," he replies simply, though that statement carries all his hopes, his longings, his fears, his confusion.

Her brow furrows and she takes his other hand and urges him to look at her. "But you're not fine, are you," she says it as a statement, rather than a question.

"Right."

You left your home
You're so far from
Everything you know
Your big dream is
Crashing down and out your door.
Wake up and dream once more.

Silence is prevalent for a while, as he gathers the courage that he was left with after the battle. He realizes now, that that wasn't the Final Battle. This is.

"Look, 'Mione, I don't really know how I'm supposed to say this. I've sort of been lying to myself about it, and I don't think you're going to like what I have to say." He breathes out through his nose and runs a hand through his messy hair.

He should probably get it cut. He hasn't had a haircut since Hermione took a rusty blade to it in the tent during to horcrux hunt.

"Harry, nothing you can say will drive me away," she explains patiently, like he's some idiot that needs a bit of help understanding the obvious. He loves that tone.

Wanna bet?

"HermioneILoveYou!" he blurts, his face red with shame at how rushed it sounded.

But a she dissects that sentence, her smile slowly starts to grow. And her eyes twinkle with joy unlike any he's ever seen in them.

And she bursts into tears.

Well, that was unexpected.

His hope diminishes before his eyes, as she puts her hands over her eyes and sobs. She doesn't love me.

"Oh, Harry!" she throws herself into his arms, still weeping, and starts to plant kisses all over his face, which is frozen in a totally shocked expression.

"Harry…Harry…" she chants his name into his bloodied shirt, sounding as though she needs to say his name to keep him from disappearing. "Harry, I love you so much."

Come back when you can.
Let go, you'll understand.
You've done nothing at all to make me love you less.
So come back when you can.

Wait…what?

He surely did not hear her correctly. He must have misheard her grotesquely, and why have conjunctions suddenly deserted my thoughts?

Her words free-float through his mind in a nebulous cloud that doesn't want to take form. Harry, I love you so much. What does it mean?

"Harry, how could you think that the words I most wanted to hear would drive me away?" she whispers into his neck, kissing there for emphasis.

"I..but..wha—" is his oh-so-eloquent answer.

She pulls back to stare into his eyes; hers are a soft chocolate brown that shine with tears. "Harry, I have loved you since fifth year. Since I held you the night Cedric died, I've loved you. It was so weird, the wonderful feelings I had fluttering in me even though I was supposed to feel nothing but grief about what happened. But you were in my arms and I just couldn't bring myself to care about anything but you."

He stares at her, still not functioning properly. She realizes this, and with a sigh, she brings her mouth to his.

Sweet Merlin, but she tastes good. Her lips beckon his to play as they whisper their declarations of love. It makes sense.

Oh, I see.

And he is kissing her back. He is kissing Hermione. Oh my god!

The world is perfect now.

Come back, I'll help you stand.
Let go and hold my hand.

They hold hands. "I love you."

If all you wanted was me, I'd give you nothing less.
So come back when you can

Read and Review. I want to know how I did on the style and the story itself. Let me know! :)