All He Wants Is Her

Summary: Harry always knew that if it weren't for Hermione he wouldn't even be here today. He knew that she had feelings for his other friend, Ron, as well….but that didn't mean he had to watch it unfold. Hermione was there for HIM, and he was going to keep it that way.

(Picture cover credit goes to alexzoe/art/Harry-Potter-the-Golden-boy-135150816)

Looking back throughout the years, Harry remembered the all the dangerous things himself and his friends went through in order to win the war. All the faces that appeared at his side throughout his years at Hogwarts flashed through his mind and only one had remained consistent. Curly brown hair with natural honey highlights, deep chocolate eyes that seemed to see right through to his soul, full lips that would stretch into a smile when he was around, and a soothing voice that could wash away his sorrows and fears. Yes, Hermione has always been around him since he first joined Hogwarts and if it wasn't for her, he would have been killed in his first year.

Of course he could say that about his other friend, Ron, but then he would have just been lying to himself. Ron, while a good friend, wasn't the best person to depend upon when in a pinch. He couldn't count how many times the red head blew up at him for things that were out of his control and when he abandoned them in the forest during the war, Harry knew that he could never fully trust him ever again.

So when he noticed Hermione looking at Ron with a longing that he saw many times in Ginny's eyes towards himself, he felt his heart give a small pang of hurt. He wanted to know why she looked at Ron like that. What did Ron do to make her look and feel that way? Will she pursue her feelings with him or will she give up and try to find someone else?

No.

Glaring at his red headed friend as he snogged a random girl in the hallway of the bar they went to that night. He knew Ron didn't deserve Hermione. He wouldn't treat her right and frankly, Harry didn't trust him enough to even be around her alone. The pain in his heart when he thought about the two being even in the same room had grown over the years and had turned into a deep, dark pitch of hatred.

Hate towards the red head that lead Hermione around only to shag the first slag that jumped towards him.

Hate towards the pitying looks that were sent her way whenever Ron walked with a new girl on his arm every week.

Hate towards his own incompetence at doing nothing to stop it all.

But when he glanced up and saw the utter heartbroken sadness that seemed to swallow Hermone's lovely face, he knew that something had to be done. And soon.

That night, once everyone went home to rest after drinking themselves into a stupor, Harry let the raging pit of hatred take over and apparated to Ron's flat across the city. He scoffed at the fact that after years of being around Hermione, the idiot still didn't add any wards around his home to keep him safe. Walking into the bedroom, Harry spotted his former friend in a deep sleep with some slag snoring next him. Sneering, he lifted a wand he had snatched off of another bar patron and whispered a spell that would get rid of his problem once and for all.

A week later, Harry and Hermione was standing in front of a gravestone. The name Ronald Weasley was engraved in the stone with his status of a war hero right below. Hermione was crying into his chest as she mourned the loss of her friend and first love. Harry was rubbing her back and whispering soothing words to calm the little witch down.

"He was still young, Harry!" Hermione cried, "We won the war! Everything was supposed to get better for all of us! So why!?"

"There was nothing we could so, 'Mione." Harry replied as he hugged her close, silently delighting in her sorrow as the dark part of himself couldn't help but think that the tears falling from her eyes was beautiful. "The mediwitch said he died from a heart attack in his sleep. No one could have known this was going to happen." Hermione looked from the gravestone to stare into Harry's eyes. Her once chocolate brown eyes were now a vivid green as the white sclera turned red from all the tears she shed. He marveled at how that happened every time she cried and knew that he had found his new favorite color.

Tangling his hand in her brown curls, he pulled her face back to his chest and gripped her small back harder. Now that the red head was out of the way, he had her for himself, and he would keep it that way. Afterall, Hermione stayed by his side all these years and saved him more time then he could count. In some cultures, she was now responsible for him and he would make sure that would they would be together so that she could take responsibility for it.

Even if he had to lock her away.

She will always be his.