I should have kissed her then, he thinks. What if I never get another chance? What if this stupid war kills us and those few minutes were all we’ll ever have? He wipes his eyes angrily and pictures her face dimly lit by her wand, her hair a dark cloud of curls around her head, her eyes bright with tears. What if he’d had the courage to tell her the truth that night? I love you, Hermione Granger. I’ve always loved you, and no matter how or when, I’ll die loving you.