It all ended the same way.

The world around her was large, and her heart, her wills, her dreams were larger than the world itself. They stretch out against the stars clouds and press against the walls and mountains, everything could be hers, if only she tried.

She could have conquered them all. She herself could have become larger than her world, growing and breaking the roles they wanted her to play. Destroying all the doubt they held in their very souls for her.

He could not fathom why she simply never tried.

Even those who claimed to love her did not believe her capable of leadership.

Even those who claimed to love her could not fathom her true potential.

Those who hated her, it was them who came the closest to the truth of her spirit. It was them who suffered under her white hot wrath, burning to ash beneath her spells and understanding their mistakes which doomed them.

It was those who tried to conquer her who fell in agony. It was those who raised weapon against her and everything she loved who collapsed under the weight of her power; begging for a mercy she forgot how to grant.

Perhaps this is why he loves her.

When he meets her first, face to face, he can not keep the wonder from his eyes. He can hardly resist the urge to throw himself to his knees and beg her, beg her, to love him back.

How strange for a god to have the desire to beg.

She smiled when he told her his name. She held out her hand. How bold he had been, to take it gently and brush his lips against her knuckles. The electricity, the magic, the desire, had surged quickly through both of them.

When she said her name, slow and confused and a little bit dazed, he repeated it just to taste the syllables on his tongue, just to know her more thoroughly.

It all ends the same way.

Under his hands, she melted into nothing. They intertwined with each other, becoming one and nothing and it was oh so blissful.

She needed him. His voice, his hands, his eyes, his hair. Everything and anything that was him she craved.

He loved her, Father be damned. Brother be damned. All of this forsaken universe be damned he loved her so desperately, so fully, it pained him.

She conquered him. With those hopeful, walnut eyes. Those slender, war beaten hands. She had defeated him completely.

It always ends the same way.

He asked her once, tracing the old scars carved into her skin, Why she had never conquered the world that had spurned her so. Why she could not repay the hate they held for her.

Raising a slender hand to brush his hair from his eyes she asked him, "Could you?"

and all he could think was 'for you, I'd conquer the universe. I'd destroy those who dare harm you'

It was then he realized the truth between them. The looming doom that swallowed him whole. The desperation that lurked in the corner waiting to destroy everything he held dear, the only thing he held dear.

Night and Day. Fire and ice.

It would always end the same way.

When he vanished, she shattered like glass.

She craved him and begged for him and called to him and cursed him over and over and yet he never came.

She fell back into her own personal hell.

She burned with anger and longing and mourning. She gave in, gave up, and mourned him as she did the fallen.

When she saw him next, shackled like a prisoner, she wondered if she could ever forgive herself for wanting to kiss him still.

Would she ever forgive herself for not hating him, but loving him? How her heart ached at the sight of him, how she reached out and let her fingertips brush his cheek.

The eyes she looked into were not her lover's.

They were not the eyes of a god, but the eyes of a murderer. They were not the green eyes that had startled her into thinking of Harry, but icy cold eyes that held only a hint of recognition.

She loved him still.

His brother watched her, "You know my brother? How is this possible?"

She wanted to tell him that she had spent a better part of her life with him. That he had pulled her from the darkest hell and showed her what it was to be cherished, to be loved, to need and be needed.

She wanted to tell him that she loved him, no matter what he had done.

She wanted to tell him that even if she hated what he'd done, that he'd only done this because everything here was so cruel and that she loved him.

She wanted to scream to the world, to the makeshift hero onlookers that he loved her, and his brother, and small birds, and her cat, and Harry's owl.

She wanted to tell them that Loki had been hers and hers alone and one day he had left her alone and came back with blood on his hands.

She wanted to tell the god of thunder that his brother had killed, yes, but so had she. They were not so different.

There, in the street, she broke. Unable to speak, to convey with words how much she needed to know why, why. How could he?

The raw, consuming pain of heartbreak swallowed her whole.

It was always going to end this way, he thought, Because she was too kind, too wholesome, too forgiving to conquer what she could have easily taken. He was too stubborn, too bitter, too prideful to give up his poisonous dreams.

She was a burning fire, hot and full of potential life and joy. He was ice, sharp and desolate and made for destruction.

Hermione Granger was made for a warm life, full of happiness and kindness.

Loki was made for none of that, and his only regret was that he could not have managed to spend forever with her.

When the gods left, leaving her standing quietly in the square with several pairs of eyes watching her, he managed to make her nothing one last time.

He shattered her completely and somehow she understood.

It would always have ended like this.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! I'm trying to decide if I should perhaps give Loki his redemption and allow them to have a happy ending, or simply leave it here? You guys can let me know what you think, I'd appreciate it!