Hermione Granger and the Half-Blood Prince

When you're down and out

When you're on the street

When evening falls so hard

I will comfort you

I'll take your heart

Oh, when darkness comes

And pain is all around...

"Bridge Over Troubled Water" Simon and Garfunkel

**

It was remarkable how a castle so full of people who had arrived to pay their last respects to Dumbledore could feel so empty. Hermione marveled at that thought as she sat cross-legged on her bed, staring blankly down at her comforter. Everything just seemed to be cold over these past few days. There was an undeniable hole in the world now that no one would ever be able to fill. Everyone could feel it deep within their hearts. Hermione pressed her hand against her chest in a vain attempt to fill that hole gaping within her, but nothing changed. Nothing could ever be rectified now.

But that wouldn't stop her from trying. She had spent hours once again in the library, ransacking the volumes for a clue on who this R.A.B. could be. He could be their only hope. If he was alive and well, he could tell them precisely how to destroy Horcruxes, especially if he had taken care of the locket Harry had been looking for. Harry had taken to carrying around that fake locket so he could finger it constantly as a perpetual reminder about what must be done next. He had to find the other Horcruxes and he had to destroy them.

And now he had to do it alone.

No. Hermione buried her face in her hands to get a hold of herself. Harry would not be doing it alone. He had her. He had Ron. He had Ginny. He had Lupin. He had Hagrid. He had so many other people. As long as he didn't push them all away--as he had a nasty habit of doing whenever he was particularly distraught--he would never be alone.

But there was something different about Harry now. There was something in his eyes. After Cedric and the third task, the fury and grief had been smoldering in his eyes for months. She could see it so she was somewhat prepared for his intense outbursts. After Sirius, she had expected it to be worse, but instead, Harry had somehow managed to push through it and focus on what needed to be done. Now, after this horrendous loss, Harry had a similar attitude, but it was much colder, much more resolute. There was no hesitation to his thoughts and actions now. He was going to do it. He had and would find all the Horcruxes, destroy them, and then vanquish Voldemort. It was as simple as that.

The door to the bathroom opened as Lavender returned from getting ready for bed. Hermione straightened up and gave her a weak smile. Their petty rivalry was irrelevant now. Lavender returned it as she went to her bed, pausing to run her hand along Parvati's bedposts with a sigh. Hermione also stared at Parvati's empty bed. As much as Hermione had been annoyed by Lavender and Parvati's constant gossiping, she had to admit that she may miss it a little. She would have loved to hear something enthusiastically trivial right now.

Lavender untied her bathrobe and slowly got into bed. She thoughtfully plaited her hair as she always did before she went to sleep, but when she finished, she didn't slide under the covers. Instead, she fingered the end of the braid absently as she glanced nervously over at Hermione.

Once again, déjà vu flooded her. It seemed oddly suiting that their first night of this term and their last night in this dormitory would begin with Lavender approaching Hermione about a touchy subject. "What?" Hermione asked softly.

It took Lavender a few minutes to summon up her Gryffindor courage. "I'm sorry about Ron."

She didn't need to hear it, but Hermione really appreciated it all the same. "Okay."

"I just--" Lavender flipped her braid behind her with a sigh. "--he just made me feel safe, you know?"

"Ron does have that gift," Hermione agreed.

"He was so brave at the Ministry. He got hurt, but he still fought and he still--I mean, he saved you. Right?" Hermione nodded, her chest constricting as though Dolohov's curse had ripped through her again. "He saved your life. I think that's so--" Lavender sighed and brought up her legs so she could rest her head against her knees. "I wanted that to be me," she confessed. "I wanted that. I wanted someone to make me feel completely safe," Lavender continued thoughtfully as she reflected over the transformation she had made over the past months. "I think I needed that."

Hermione hugged herself and nodded in complete agreement. "I think we all do."

"So I thought I could get it from him. I didn't think there was anyone else who could give that to anyone." She shook her head in disgust. "It was stupid."

"No, it's not," Hermione disagreed.

Lavender turned her head so she was looking directly at Hermione. At first, she looked rather solemn, but slowly her expression grew more affectionate. "He's one of the good ones."

A lump shot up to hotly wedge itself in Hermione's throat. Sometimes, she really hated that she couldn't sneak up to the boys' dormitory. "I know."

After another moment of silence, Lavender nodded in satisfaction, feeling that the two girls had finally reconciled after a year of hostility. "Good night," she said quietly before drawing her curtains closed so she could get some sleep.

"Good night," Hermione echoed. She stayed perfectly still until Lavender's breathing become slow, steady, and relaxed before she slid out of bed and went straight to the loo. Quietly, she shut the door behind her and as she had earlier that year, leaned against it in exhaustion with one hand over her mouth. But there was nothing really in her to cry out. There was only numb lethargy. Hermione rubbed her face tiredly. Tomorrow, she was certain the tears would come. She wouldn't be able to sit through Dumbledore's funeral without tears. Just the thought of it made her want to be ill from blubbering for hours, as she had after seeing Ron and Lavender snog. Yes, there would definitely be tears tomorrow. She would just have to wait until then.

Hermione pushed herself off of the door so she could brush her teeth and wash her face. She really needed to get some sleep. She had been spending many nights in the library--Madame Pince had stopped locking the library--in her efforts to find R.A.B. and more information about Eileen Prince and Tobias Snape. After Harry telling her that Snape confessed to being the Half-Blood Prince, it had been easy to connect the two. All she had had to do was find the Snape family tree and trace down the line. The date of the marriage had been included, so Hermione had managed to find the Prophet edition from that date and find the article about their marriage. Eileen had defied years of Prince family tradition to marry a Muggle and was ultimately disowned by her parents. The family had embraced Severus however and that was where Snape's anti-Muggle philosophy had been cultivated. Looking back, it was clear to see why Snape was such a gray area. He came from such conflicting backgrounds that it was extremely difficult to discern which viewpoint Snape really idealized.

As for herself, Hermione wasn't certain if she was really convinced that Snape was evil, as Harry had coldly stated earlier that evening. Evil really was a strong word. Snape had killed Dumbledore--there was no doubt about it--and yet, Hermione couldn't help thinking that there was something more going on that she didn't know about. They had all thought Snape had been trying to kill Harry in first-year and they had been wrong. What if they were making the same mistake?

A lot of mistakes had been made this past year; Hermione didn't think they could afford to make many others. She wiped off her face with a washcloth and paused to look at her reflection for a moment. She was growing up. She had always felt like she was, but this was the first time you could really see it in her face. It was thinner, more womanly, more defined. The same thing--as much as it made her blush slightly to admit--was happening to her body. She now had curves and an actual figure instead of the tomboyish gait she had always assumed she would have the rest of her life. Obviously, her body image wasn't very important to her, but it was just a testament to how much was changing.

And more changes were destined to come. Her body wasn't the only thing about her that had changed. She had changed. She had really changed. Her hand came up to toy with her locket, a habit she was starting to develop as of late. Sometimes, she was unhappy with the changes that had occurred, but at the end of the day, she was content with who she was and who she was on track to be. Not many people could say that so in a way, the events of this year had been for the best.

There were other things that had changed. Ron and Harry had. The trio itself had changed. A stab of melancholy stabbed through her as she reflected on what she had thought about at hospital, that perhaps they were growing up away from each other. Even friends as inseparable as the three of them would stop relying on each other so much and branch out to form other relationships and learn how to stand alone. Harry already was. He was growing up in ways Hermione would never understand and perhaps that was why she felt so distant from him this year. Ron was learning to stand alone and had Lavender this year. And she...Hermione shifted inside of herself, trying to find out what she was trying to tell herself. She had stood alone this year. She had lived without Ron, a feat she never thought she could do. But she had. And if she could accomplish that, she could do anything. She didn't want to, but perhaps she would have to. No matter what happened in the upcoming years, the trio would always be there, but it wouldn't be the same. Not after this year.

It was rather lonely to grow up.

Hermione arranged her toiletries so she could easily pack them tomorrow morning after using them. She really didn't want to leave school, now more than ever. As much as she wanted to see her parents again, she was rather dreading the promise she had made herself. They had to finally know the truth about all that was happening in her world. They would undoubtedly be furious with her; she couldn't even imagine what their reaction was going to be. They would yell and scream and order her never to return to the magical world and that's when she was going to have to pull out the hateful I'm-seventeen-and-I-can-do-what-I-want-in-spite-of-what-you-think card. And that very well could destroy her relationship with her family.

But it was useless to fret over that now. She would just have to wait and see what happened. Hagrid had said something similar to Harry after Cedric had died. You had to just let what was to coming come and face it when it came. It was one of the wisest things Hagrid had ever said and as someone who worried far too much, Hermione tried to follow that advice everyday. She just had to wait and see.

She cautiously opened the door to return to dormitory so it wouldn't squeak and wake up Lavender. The door opened soundlessly, but there was still a persistent tapping that could very well disturb her roommate. Hermione looked around in confusion for the source of the noise. Since she was so distracted, it took her a moment to look at the window and notice the small elfish owl that was rapping away on the windowpane, begging Hermione to let him in.

Hermione froze. No way.

Quickly, she tiptoed towards the window and let him in. Cheerfully, he chattered away and nipped her earlobe with the utmost affection. She shushed the bird and cupped him in her hands to see if he had a message for her. He didn't. Her breath kicked her sharply in the gut. She knew what that meant. Ron had once told her months ago that if he ever needed her, he would send Pig to her dormitory. She set Pig on her shoulder so he could amuse himself by nibbling on one of her curls and set straight off to the common room. She had to go now before her nerves caught up with her and she realized the full implications of what Ron could be asking of her. Still, she hesitated at the bottom of the stairwell, peeking cautiously in the seemingly deserted common room.

"Ron?"

"Yeah." Ron lifted his head from the sofa he was stretched out on so she could see where he was. His feet were perched comfortably on the opposite side as he was far too tall to fit on even the longest couch in the common room. He grinned a greeting. "Hey."

"Hi." He dropped his head back so he was out of sight, giving Hermione the opportunity to take a deep breath. She then went to the window to release Pig out into the night to entertain himself. She took a minute to straighten her pajamas and run a hand through her hair before calmly returning to the sofa he was on so she could perch on the back of it. He looked so utterly at repose that Hermione couldn't believe he needed anything, especially from her. "You rang?" she finally asked with a little laugh.

Ron shifted his position slightly so he could remain supine and look at her at the same time. "Couldn't sleep," he explained. "Reckoned you couldn't either."

"You reckon correctly," Hermione confirmed.

Satisfied, Ron rolled his head back towards the fire so he could watch the dying flames flicker and flash. Hermione followed his gaze so she wouldn't be caught staring at him, no matter how much she wanted to. The firelight was doing marvelous things to his jawline. Her position on the back of the couch was a little awkward so after several minutes, Hermione slid off and went around to the other side so she could sit on the floor, leaning against the sofa by his knees. The movement caused Ron's eyes to return to her. She leaned her head back so she could smile at him and let him know that there was nowhere else she would rather be, but her eyes went straight to his collarbone. The top two buttons of his pajama top were unbuttoned so the mysterious scratches he had received were visible again. He still hadn't told her how he'd received them.

Ron followed his gaze and flushed slightly. He moved his hand to cover the injury. "So. We leave tomorrow."

It was a vain attempt to change the subject, but Hermione didn't push it. He would tell her when he wanted to tell her. "Yes. We do."

"Think Harry'll go back to the Dursleys?"

"He has to," Hermione said with a frown. "He's still underage."

"But he only went back there because Dumbledore made him," Ron explained, shifting on his side as he became more involved in the conversation. "Mum wants him to come straight home with us."

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "But Dumbledore had him stay for a reason--"

"They put bars on his window!" Ron snapped. He'd never forgive the Dursleys for that. There was something unforgivable about being forced to see your best friend in such degrading circumstances.

Hermione didn't rise to the bait. She didn't want to row tonight. Not when he finally called her down to sit with him so they could pass through this long, tortuous night together. "I know," she said calmly. "But I think we should wait to see what Harry wants to do. He might want to do what Dumbledore told him."

Ron rolled his eyes and flopped back down so he could stare glumly at the ceiling. "Maybe we should go with him," he said suddenly, his voice alive with fresh hope.

"What?"

"To the Dursleys." Ron smirked. "We can do magic now. We could do anything we wanted to Dudley."

"It's unethical to perform magic against a Muggle," Hermione reminded him sternly.

"It's unethical to force your nephew to sleep in a cupboard under the stairs," Ron countered. The grin soon returned. "Besides, it'd be fun. And it'd do Harry a bit of good to have us there to keep him company."

She looked down at her lap, wishing she could agree with Ron. It really would be good for Harry to have some company as he endured the long hours at the Dursleys. And Hermione would never admit it now, but she suspected she could be persuaded to play a prank or two against Dudley in retaliation for all he had done to Harry. It would do them all some good to spend some time together before setting off to finish this Horcrux business, but Hermione had to take care of some other things first. "I can't," Hermione finally said. "You can stay with him--and I think it would help him if you did--but I can't just yet."

"Why?" Ron asked curiously. He propped himself up on one elbow again so he could look at her in eerily the same way she had looked at the scratches on his neck.

Hermione forced herself not to look at him. If she did, she would confess everything and for some reason, she didn't want to tell Harry and Ron until she had fixed things with her family. "Because I need to see my parents."

"Oh. Sure." Ron looked slightly guilty and uncomfortable. Sometimes he forgot about how much Hermione loved her family; she never talked about them. "How are they?"

"All right. I think," Hermione picked at the hem of her pajama pants. His concern was only making things infinitely worse. She didn't want to think about her parents anymore; there was nothing she could do until she got home.

There was a long silence in which Hermione could feel Ron watching her, trying to think of something or do or say to make that distracted, worried expression on her face go away. But Ron would have to say something particularly brilliant; the three of them were going to be distracted and worried for a long time.

"Greyback did it."

Hermione looked over at him. She always knew Ron was particularly brilliant. "What?"

"Greyback was going for Ginny," Ron elaborated almost tonelessly as he sat up and faced the fire. His hand slid back up to his collar to touch the scratches. Hermione inhaled soundlessly. Oh. "He saw her and went straight for her--he always goes after the youngest." A hard edge crept into his voice, but his eyes were still devoid of anything. "She was dodging those other Death Eater's curses so she didn't know he was coming. So I shot a jinx at him to stop him. It missed, but at least it got his attention on me. I shouted something at him and egged him on and he got hacked off and charged. I missed again so he was able to get me like this--" Ron gripped his collar as if he had seized the front of someone's shirt in a murderous rage. "--and slammed me up against the wall. I tried to get my wand on him, but he grabbed my wrist and kept it away while he tried to bite. He didn't even have his wand out. He didn't need it."

"Ron," Hermione whispered unconsciously, feeling as though she had just fallen off a broomstick.

If he heard her, Ron didn't respond. He continued to stare dispassionately into the fire. "And that's when Bill got there. He didn't try to curse him either--there wasn't time and he was worried that he'd hit me if he did--he just tackled Greyback to get him away from me as fast as he could. They both fell to the floor and that's when Greyback started slashing. I tried to get in--" Ron had to stop and lean forward, his fists gripping his hair as though he was afraid he was going to break in half. Hermione instantly was up on her knees, poised to do anything necessary. "But the curses were everywhere--I had to duck--and I managed to get back and kick Greyback to get him off of Bill eventually--and Tonks came to help--but by then--" Ron's voice broke and cracked, "--it was too late. His face--" His chest swelled as though he was about to sob or throw up, but he fought with every fiber of his being. He would never cry in front of Hermione. "--there was so much blood. I've never seen so much blood--and that's how it happened," he finished hastily. He let out a long breath as though a massive burden had been lifted out of him, but he continued to sit doubled forward, his hands in his hair, as he struggled to keep himself together.

Hermione quietly scooted forward on the ground so she was kneeling in front of him. "Hey." She put her hands on his wrists and tugged lightly so he would look her. "It wasn't your fault."

"I know, I know."

"No, you don't," Hermione said stoutly. She had to admit that she found it tragically appropriate that a Weasley had been so devastatingly hurt by saving another Weasley who was trying to save yet another Weasley. "Was it my fault that Snape made it up to the corridor?"

"No," Ron said instantly. "But that's different--"

"It's not. It feels like it's my fault--I feel horrible that it happened; I think that in some ways, I will always blame myself for it," Hermione said matter-of-factly although she had to blink her eyes rapidly against the surge of guilt that threatened to overwhelm her. "But I know that it's not really. If I had tried to stop him, I'd probably be dead. If Bill hadn't come, you would be dead...well, no, you wouldn't. You would have been fine..."

Ron laughed bitterly at her abrupt change of subject. He leaned back into the couch and pulled his hands free of hers. "Thanks, Hermione," he said sarcastically.

But as always, Hermione was two steps ahead of everyone else and pulled back away from Ron. She didn't know how she suddenly came to this realization, but that didn't stop her from looking Ron dead in the eye with her heart in her throat. "If you had taken the lucky potion, you would have been fine. But if you took the lucky potion, you wouldn't have missed when you tried to curse him and you wouldn't have been pinned against the wall with Greyback's fangs two inches from your throat either. You wouldn't have gotten cut--" She indicated the scratches around his neck once again. "--You wouldn't have been in so much danger that Bill would be so afraid for your safety that he couldn't even think to do magic and just threw himself towards you." The shifty expression that crossed Ron's face only confirmed her deepest fear. "You didn't take any of the potion, did you? You gave it all to Ginny and Neville."

"If Harry can pretend to pour it into my drink, I can pretend to drink some," Ron muttered as if he thought this was a perfectly adequate answer.

It wasn't. Hermione pounded her hand against the sofa cushion in tearful anger. "Ron!"

"There wasn't a lot left!" Ron argued. "Neville and Ginny needed it more than I did!"

"No, Ginny's a better dueler than you--you should have had some over her," Hermione retorted spitefully.

"Hey!"

"Damn it, Ron!" Hermione shouted over Ron's protest. He immediately snapped his mouth shut at her use of profanity. "You're not the only one who never wants the Ministry to happen again! You have to be more careful!"

Startled, Ron looked out at her from underneath his fringe which had fallen attractively across his face. She hated it when it did. It made her want to run her fingers through his hair more than ever. It was so damn attractive. Stubbornly, she clenched her fists so she wouldn't do anything stupid. "So are you going to be more careful?" she demanded.

And damn him, he smiled. He smiled that smile. She had to clench her fists tighter than ever to keep still. "Yeah," he agreed.

"Good," Hermione said shortly. Blistering exasperation was still pulsating through her veins, so she abruptly brought up a topic that she had been meaning to discuss with him for quite some time. "And do you really think I think of you as a charity case?"

Ron's smile was wiped off his face at the sudden change of subject. They hadn't mentioned what he had shouted at her for months. He had been so angry with her when he had insisted that she thought of him as a charity case that he hadn't realized just what he was confessing. It was one of his deepest, darkest secrets he locked up in his heart and tried vainly not to think about. He really hated being the inferior friend of the trio. "Sometimes," he muttered almost matter-of-factly, as if it were expected that one of his closest, dearest friends thought of him in that light.

Hermione's heart physically ached from hearing that one word. She just couldn't comprehend how Ron could actually think that little of their relationship. After everything they had been through, after all the time they had spent together, after spending years becoming best friends, growing closer than she ever imagined two people could be, he still--Hermione opened her mouth to ask Ron to explain why, chickened out, and irritably pushed her hair out of her face. "You're so wrong," she burst out instead. She suddenly felt quite out of breath, as if she had spent the last five hours shouting at Ron with all of her heart. Flustered, she finally met his eyes, wondering what else she needed to say.

One corner of Ron's lips flicked upwards. That was all he needed. Whatever he saw in her eyes at that moment, Hermione would never know, but it was enough to pacify him for twenty lifetimes. "Okay."

Hermione blinked. "Okay?"

That smile was back in full force, making her blood bubble in an entirely new way. "Yeah. Okay."

"All right." Her heart was pumping too vigorously for her to think straight so Hermione got to her feet. "We should get some sleep. It's a long day tomorrow."

"Yeah," he repeated. He didn't move and just grinned up at her as if it were Christmas morning.

She folded her arms over her chest, fists still clenched. He was not going to make her do anything stupid. "Are you going to be able to sleep?" she asked in spite of herself. If he still thought he couldn't go to bed, she'd still sit up with him.

"I reckon," Ron replied.

He was looking so smug that Hermione couldn't stand it. If he was going to act like this whenever she complimented him, she would have to think twice about doing it again. "Good night," she said as she crossed towards the girls' dormitory. However, a muffled snicker made her turn back around. She whipped around to find that Ron had buried his face into the back of the sofa. "Are you laughing at me?" she demanded hotly. She really didn't think Ron should be deriving so much pleasure from this; so she had confessed that she would die if anything happened to him. He should already know that.

Ron's head popped back up, his face blank and completely serious except for his eyes which were still dancing merrily with laughter. "Never."

She almost melted on the spot. He was just so--Hermione cut herself off and turned away before he could catch the blush staining her cheeks. As she hurried up the stairs, a thought flashed through her mind that she had many times before and she would be having many times again: boys.

**

It wasn't until Hermione actually saw Dumbledore's body that it really hit her the gravity of the situation. She could hear that Dumbledore was dead until she was blue in the face, but it wasn't until she actually saw the helpless, frail body hanging limply in Hagrid's trembling arms that it fully struck her just how devastating their loss really was. Their wise, noble headmaster was gone forever.

She sat in the folding chair between Ron and Harry, not really hearing a word of the service. Images were flashing wildly in her head: Dumbledore smiling and clapping for her after she had been sorted into Gryffindor; Dumbledore benignly watching over Harry's second Quidditch game as he quietly sat on guard, alert for a sign that anything out of the ordinary could happen to one of his students; Dumbledore running with an agility of someone half his age over to her and an injured Ron and asking if Harry had gone after the Stone; Dumbledore's beautiful, fine script that proudly proclaimed in a letter to her parents that she had finished top in her year and he was personally infinitely proud of Hermione's progress; Dumbledore's grave face as he read the bloody message on the wall outside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom; Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes as he took her aside and told her with the utmost sincerity how glad he was to see that she had fully recovered from her Petrifaction; Dumbledore giving her a wink as he told her that she and Harry needed more time in order to save Sirius; Dumbledore's festive robes that glittered and glistened as he danced with Madame Maxine at the Yule Ball; Dumbledore's quiet but absolute authority as he shouted at Fudge to start gathering allies in preparation of the second war; Dumbledore's steady unwavering posture as he spoke to his students about remembering Cedric Diggory; Dumbledore thoughtfully stroking his beard as she and Ron told him about the letters they had received from Harry over the summer; Dumbledore showing her to the telephone so she could call her parents and tell him she wasn't coming home for Christmas; Dumbledore lifting her chin so he could look in her eyes and assess how critically injured she had been at the Ministry; Dumbledore giving her a scroll to give to Harry, looking up and down in honest concern at the obvious misery in her eyes; Dumbledore lying limp and helpless in Hagrid's arms...

She shuddered. The man had taught them all so much. It wasn't possible for someone to be so giving and thoughtful and absolutely helpful to all he met. He taught them about the value of choice, the power of love, the benefits of showing mercy even to someone like Peter Pettigrew, the bonds of friendship, the glory of fighting seemingly loss causes, the choice between what is right and what is easy, the quality of mercy, the importance of forgiveness, valuing everyone, trusting everyone, believing in the best in people...

It wasn't fair. Life just wasn't fair. Brave, honorable, wise wizards like Dumbledore did not deserve to die in the way Dumbledore did. He didn't deserve to be slaughtered by someone like Snape. Hermione gripped the edge of her chair. She couldn't help wondering if she had thought to stop Snape, to believe Harry when he had insisted that Snape wasn't on their side, that everything might have been different. Yes, she might have been injured or maybe even killed, but then everyone would have known what Snape was. Luna would have gotten help and maybe even alerted everyone fighting outside the Astronomy Tower in time. Maybe she could have saved Dumbledore.

Hermione tried to make herself stop. She knew it wasn't healthy to sit here and obsess over the what-ifs and maybe-I-should-haves, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. She couldn't help wondering just what they could have done to save their headmaster, because without Dumbledore, they were lost. They had Harry, of course, but Harry still needed guidance. They still had no idea how to destroy Horcruxes or how to even find them. And it wasn't just that Dumbledore had a plan to defeat Voldemort--it was his presence. He and Harry had both come to symbolize hope and security to the wizarding world. It wasn't the Ministry that everyone was relying on; it was those two men. That was why the Ministry was desperate to get them on their side. They wanted to align themselves with the two people that they knew would end up being their saviors. But now there was only one savoir. And as Harry had once said, he was Dumbledore's man. He was becoming a man, yes, but he wasn't much of one without Dumbledore. Not yet. He would be, but would he have time to become that man before Voldemort struck again?

It was getting harder and harder to see hope anymore. Hermione had desperately tried to cling to it for so long, but now, blinded by the tears she hadn't even realized she was crying out, she couldn't see it. She couldn't see anything but doubts and fears and she couldn't stand it.

Much to her relief, she vaguely realized that people were starting to stand and file away from the service. It was finally over. She looked up in the sky and faintly, if she tilted her head a certain way, she thought she could see an ephemeral outline of a phoenix soaring away to the heavens. It was where he ultimately belonged, but Hermione couldn't help letting out another heartbreaking blubber of grief. Dumbledore was really gone forever.

She looked round at her friends to see if they were ready to get out of here. Harry had turned to Ginny to speak to her in a low voice while Ron was staring straight ahead, lost in thought. It didn't seem like they were going anywhere anytime soon. As much as she wanted to wait for them, she couldn't. She had to get out of here now.

"Whoa." Ron jolted as she stood, too blinded by tears to see properly. He seized her hand to steady her as one of her feet slipped on the uneven terrain. "Where do you think you're going?"

"It's--over," she choked out in as normal voice as she could manage. Her eyes, glazed with tears, managed to make out the white dome of Dumbledore's tomb, and her diaphragm contracted painfully again, urging her to double over in sobs again. "I can't--" she tried to explain as articulately as she could that it was actually killing her to sit here, at the most powerful wizard in the world's funeral, thinking about the great man he was, how uncertain their future was, how alone she felt, how scared she was for him and Harry, for everyone...

His other hand took hers so he sat there, clutching both her hands as if he were afraid she was going to be whisked away like the white smoke billowing over the cremation site. Hermione could tell that he had barely managed to keep from crying during the funeral and watching her completely fall apart was pushing him over the edge. His face worked painfully to keep the moisture in, but one more look at her face finally pushed one, struggling, anguished tear out. Ron blinked it away, but more kept coming. Hermione's heart broke to see them. She couldn't watch Ron cry. One hand longingly came up to wipe them away, as he done for her on so many occasions, but Ron squeezed her hand to stop her, pulling her a few steps closer to him so their knees bumped and feet brushed. "Just stay."

Those words. Those two words that Ron had been telling her many times this year, the two words that may not mean much on their own, but with his eyes and voice behind them, meant everything. Hermione bowed her head to hide her heartbreaking sob that ripped through her entire body. She didn't deserve this, she didn't deserve Ron, not when she had been so awful to him this year, not when she had let Snape get away, not when she had performed every infraction she had every done in her entire life. Ron deserved perfection and why was she standing here thinking of her love life during a funeral?

She didn't have time to reflect on that. Ron was pulling on her hands again so she fell back into her chair. Her hands were released and before she could realize how cold her skin felt without his on hers, he was holding her--he was actually holding her--and stroking her hair, telling her not to cry, that everything would be all right, he'd make it all right in the end. His tears slid off his nose, onto her hair, and dripped down to mingle with hers. She felt Ron's chest hitch and his heart, drumming rapidly, reverberated reassuringly into her. Ron didn't hug her or hold her very often unless she grabbed him like this, but no matter what the circumstances were, whenever his arms were around her, she felt inexplicably safe. This tall, lanky, gangling boy who received average marks in almost every subject, whose special skills were chess, Quidditch, taking care of his family and friends, and a sharp sense of humor, made her feel safer than anyone else in the world. She was home when she was with him. It didn't make any sense, but today Hermione didn't care about what made sense. She just cared about feeling better. She just wanted to be at home.

They didn't say a word to each other the entire time, but they didn't have to. Their mutual need for each other transcended words. When it finally ended, as Ron pulled away with a frown, Hermione felt so much colder and almost insisted that he returned his arms to her. However, she looked over her shoulder and saw what had distracted Ron. Harry was gone, but Ginny was still there, sitting very still, fingers mashed around the edge of her chair, leaning forward as though poised to spring up at any moment. Not a single muscle on her face moved as she fought with everything she had to keep from crumbling. "Gin?" Ron asked with a creak of apprehension in his voice.

As if lost in a nightmare, Ginny turned slowly to her brother and her best friend. It took her several moments before she could even begin to open her mouth to answer. "He broke up with me."

Ron jolted with surprise but Hermione just closed her eyes and exhaled once. It was typical of Harry to pull away from those he cared about in times of troubles. Wearily, she pushed her hair out of her face and looked over her shoulder to try to find Harry's retreating back. "Oh, Harry," she breathed.

"I knew he was going to," Ginny said with a dismissive wave of her hand. Now that she had started moving and speaking, she had to continue to do so lest she regressed back to her earlier deadened state. She got to her feet and needlessly smoothed her robes. "He doesn't want me to get hurt and if they know that he has me, they'll--" She trailed off with a shrug, staring off over the Hogwarts lake. Something raw and heartbreaking twisted across her face, but with all of the strength she had, Ginny repressed it from getting the best of her. "It's better this way. I'll be safer. I'm fine," she lied horribly.

Hermione didn't say a word. She knew quite well that the last thing Ginny wanted to be was protected. All Ginny had ever wanted was Harry.

"I'm going for a walk," Ginny said flatly. "I won't be long."

She shuffled away with her arms wrapped around her as though she was trying desperately to hold in all of her pain and grief from this day. If she let it out all out now, she would never stop. As much as Harry had hurt her today, she was not going to let him see how devastated she was. He didn't need that right now. They were more important things going on than her and Harry. She just had to accept that for a little while.

Ron tried to follow, but Hermione caught hold of his forearms. "Leave her," she said hoarsely. "She wants to be alone." As much as she wanted to go help Ginny, Hermione knew it was best to just let her go. Ginny didn't need their council right now.

Nodding in reluctant agreement, Ron nevertheless got to his feet, took a long breath, and glanced one final time at Dumbledore's white tomb. Hermione followed his gaze as the couple reflected once again on their brave headmaster and how lucky they were to have had him in their lives.

Finally, Ron held out his hand to Hermione to help her to her feet. "Shall we?"

Hermione nodded soberly as she put her hand in Ron's. Both knew exactly who they needed to be with right now. "Let's go."

Hand in hand, they set off to find Harry.

**

Harry, as expected, was rather quiet for the rest of the day, especially on the train ride back to King's Cross. He spoke whenever necessary, but passed most of the time staring out of the window. Mercifully though, it was not a solemn sullen silence as Hermione had dreaded. It was more resolute and determined, like Harry had become over the past few years. Harry knew precisely what had to be done and was taking the time to deliberate over it. For once, he was going to plan everything out carefully, as Hermione had always encouraged him to do. She was afraid she and Ron had thrown a wrench into those plans when they informed him that they would be accompanying him no matter what. Harry at first had looked so surprised, but Hermione could tell that he was deeply touched by their proposal. Still, Hermione couldn't help wondering how Harry would assume they would just leave him. They'd never left each other behind. They weren't about to start now.

But as content as Harry had been with his two best friends, Hermione knew that he had to be thinking about someone else right now. Harry's eyes always got a little fuzzy and pensive whenever he thought about Ginny, just as they were right now. She was holding up remarkably well after their breakup; upon returning from her walk, Ginny had managed to say some casual, friendly words to Harry as the four of them had waited for the train to arrive. However, instead of sitting with them, Ginny had opted to pass the journey with Neville, Seamus, Dean, and Demelza. Hermione had caught the flash of jealousy that had ripped across Harry's face at the sight of Ginny sitting next to Dean, but he had swallowed it dutifully. It had been his decision to let Ginny go. He couldn't stop her from doing as she pleased. Instead, he could sit with his forehead against the window glass as he considered whether or not he had made a huge mistake. He had. Hermione knew he had. Harry just had to figure that out on his own and rectify it before it was too late. Hermione let out a little, almost inaudible laugh. It would never be too late for Ginny and Harry.

Satisfied, Hermione turned her head away from the window to see if Ron was still napping. He was--and snoring slightly to boot. She rolled her eyes; he must have not slept very well last night after she had left him snickering at her in the common room. Ron at the start of the long trip home had tried to force some light conversation between the three of them, but when that had become hopeless, he too had lapsed into silence, first sending Pig out to complete an errand and then entertaining himself with a small game of catch. He had saved the ball of parchment they had played with the night before Dumbledore had died and idly tossed it from hand to hand in hopes of reclaiming a bit of the childhood they had lost this past week. When he tired of that, he had kicked back, his feet propped up on Hermione's lap and his robes bunched into a squat pillow underneath his head. Hermione was therefore pinned to her position on the bench, but she didn't really care. It felt rather nice to have the relaxed weight of Ron's feet warmly resting on her legs.

However, after a while, her legs started to feel a bit stiff so she stretched them out to prop them on the bench opposite her, next to Harry. The movement finally tore Harry's attention away from the window and he leaned back to distractedly smile at her. He pushed his glasses up his nose and Hermione's heart burned at the familiarity of the gesture. No matter how much he changed and grew up, he was still so very Harry. He always would be.

"So," he finally spoke, his mind still clearly on Ginny and Horcruxes. Hermione had a feeling that's all he would be thinking about for a long time. "So you're going to go home for a bit?"

Hermione nodded, not elaborating on why she needed to see her parents. It would only make Harry feel exceedingly guilty. "For a week or two."

Harry mirrored her nod as he continued to try to make a definitive plan. "So I'll go with Ron to the Burrow for a day so he can tell his parents." He winced at the thought. He knew it was going to be really difficult to convince Mrs. Weasley that they could go off and do this on their own. "And then we'll go to the Dursleys--apparently, I have some sort of protection there."

"I didn't know that," Hermione said curiously.

"Yeah," Harry answered tiredly. He rubbed one eye under his glasses. "Dumbledore put it up ages ago--as long as I'm under age and it's considered 'home', I'll be protected."

"So when you turn seventeen, the spell will be broken?" Hermione discerned quickly.

Harry nodded. "I reckon."

"Then you should stay until your birthday," Hermione said immediately.

Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust. "That's ages, Hermione!"

Hermione made sure she spoke an even, quiet voice so she wouldn't further enrage Harry and wake Ron up. "I think you need to take all the protection you can get, Harry." With a grunt, Harry sank irritably back into the cushions, but Hermione knew that posture all too well: he had accepted her suggestion. "You can take the time to do some research. Find out where those Horcruxes could be hidden. We don't want to just run blindly all over England. If we have some ideas of where to look, we'll have a better chance of tracking them down sooner."

"We need to find out to destroy them too," Harry reminded her. His hand came up to rake through his hair, as he always did when he was particularly frustrated or exhausted.

"Leave that to me," Hermione told him. "I've already had some books shipped by owl-order to my house and now that I can Apparate, I can go to some of the magical libraries too."

"Libraries?" Harry said with a frown. "There are more of them?"

"Hogwarts' collection is one of the most extensive, of course," Hermione relayed. "But there is one in London that deals more specifically with charms and defensive spells that we're looking for. The Hogwarts library, while extremely accurate, is lacking in Dark Arts books as they don't promote the usage of Dark magic." Thoughtfully, she straightened up slightly as another thought struck her. "You know, Viktor told me that the library at Durmstrang is the best collection of Dark Arts book in the continent--maybe I can send him an owl asking if I could come for a visit."

Harry held up a cautionary hand and fought a bemused smile. "Careful," he warned. He pointed at the still sleeping Ron. "Wouldn't want him to hear that."

Hermione rolled her eyes automatically, producing a light chuckle from Harry. Still looking amused, Harry continued with their conversation. "So since you can Apparate, you could come see us, right?"

"Well, technically, no," Hermione reminded him. "It's dangerous to Apparate somewhere you have never been--it's harder to focus on a destination you've never been to. They recommend you not Apparate to unknown locations until you've successfully had your license for a year or two."

Disappointed, Harry tried to find another possibility so they could meet up with Hermione and compare research. Having Hermione's brain aiding in the process would make everything loads easier. Besides, he really was going to miss his best friend. "Well, we could meet in London, couldn't we?" he offered. "Surrey's not far at all. We could probably get to Grimmauld Place without any problems."

"Sure," Hermione said although she secretly knew she would never plan to meet them there. She was going to do everything she could to make sure that Harry stayed in that safe haven on Privet Drive for as long as possible.

"So if I stay until the end of July," Harry thought aloud, "we could all meet at the Burrow--Ron said Bill and Fleur's wedding was the beginning of August, didn't he?" Hermione nodded. "Right, so from there we could go straight to Godric's Hollow and then--" he trailed off. "Who knows where?" he said with a false laugh of adventure.

"Sounds like a plan," Hermione confirmed. "Except if you want to go to your parents' earlier," she suggested although she rather hoped he wouldn't. Once again, she really hoped that Harry and Ron would stay safe for as long as possible. It was the only way she could sleep well at night.

Harry shook his head. "No, you should be there."

Her heart swelled. Harry would never know it, but it was sweetest thing he had ever said to her. Glowing, she averted her face to hide her smile. Harry would only be embarrassed by the rush of affection that surged through her. Luckily, he didn't notice. He was already distracted by another thought. "Unless you left your parents sooner and came to stay with us," he suggested. "Do you think you might? It'd be nice to have both of you. We'd be able to play better pranks on Dudley," he added with a grin eerily like Ron's.

What was even more eerie was the grin that spread across Hermione's face at the thought of the three of them getting back at Dudley for all of the abuse he had heaped on Harry for so many years. "I'll do my best," she promised. Reassured, Harry resumed to staring out the window while Hermione continued to gaze at him, biting her lip slightly. She still had something she wanted to ask him. "You're really not going back to Hogwarts?"

"No," Harry said immediately, his voice leaving no room for argument.

"Okay," Hermione said quietly, leaning back so she could reposition herself once again. She accidentally jostled Ron's feet slightly, causing him to twitch momentarily, but as wild hippogriffs and his mother couldn't wake him on most mornings, he remained sound asleep.

Sensing her disappointment, Harry turned back to appease her. "I can't go to class anymore, Hermione, not when I need to be doing all of this."

"I know, I know," Hermione agreed. Now it was her turn to examine the rolling green hills of England. "I just can't imagine not going to school."

"You can," Harry said instantly, hoping that he could save at least one of his friends from the insanity he was about to face. "You don't have to come with me--"

"Yes. I do," Hermione interrupted in the exact same tone Harry had just used. "We're not turning back, Harry. Don't try to make us now." She folded her arms over her chest comfortingly. "Besides, there might not be a Hogwarts to go back to."

For a moment, Harry didn't say anything. He just thoughtfully glanced over at Hermione, out the window, and back at Hermione again. "There will be."

She tilted her head towards him. "You think?"

He nodded emphatically. A sigh of relief coursed through her lungs. If Harry Potter believed it, it had to be true. "Good," she breathed. The world wouldn't be right without Hogwarts. Feeling more optimistic than she had in a good long time, Hermione flashed Harry a grateful smile before playfully shaking one of Ron's feet. "Wake up," she ordered mercilessly. Ron frowned and grunted sleepily, but didn't move an inch. She gave him a minute to obey her request before shaking him even harder. "Come on then."

"Five more minutes," Ron mumbled as he tried to roll over on his side. Hermione however wouldn't let go of his feet so he couldn't complete the movement. His frown deepened. "Hermione."

"We don't have five minutes. We're almost there," Hermione informed him as she looked out the window again. Sure enough, the landscape had changed from the scenic countryside to the outer limits of London.

Quite abruptly, Harry looked rather nervous. He knew the moment he stepped off of Platform Nine ¾ his life would be irrevocably changed. There would be no turning back. It would be the first step in a long journey to vanquishing Voldemort and as much as he was ready to make those first steps, it still terrified him more than he would ever admit to anybody, especially himself. To steady his nerves, he got to his feet and began sorting through his belongings so he could make a quick departure off of the train. The sooner he began the journey, the better he would feel. Ron on the other hand sat up slowly and swung his legs off of Hermione's lap. Blearily, he rubbed his face to wake himself up. Hermione found herself contemplating at how cute he looked when he was tired before catching herself and getting to her feet to follow Harry's example. How could anyone look cute when they had just woke up? It was ridiculous. She had hoped after everything that she could be a bit more practical and level-headed when it came to Ron. But now that was appearing to be an impossible task.

By the time the train had shuddered to a grinding halt, Harry was all set to go, Hermione had one final item to put away, and Ron wasn't even close to finishing. Harry looked back and forth between his two friends, his feet dancing with impatience and something else Hermione couldn't quite place. "I'll wait for you outside, shall I?" he offered.

"Yeah," Ron answered quietly. "Thanks, mate." Harry nodded and dragged his trunk and Hedwig's cage out into the corridor. Hermione finished packing her belongings a few seconds afterwards, but she lingered, pretending to have difficulty fastening the final clasp on her trunk. She didn't want to leave Ron just yet.

"There!" Startled, Hermione looked up to find that Ron had happily opened the window and stuck out his hand so Pig could fly into it. He must have just returned from the errand Ron had sent him on. Carefully, Ron brought his pet inside of the compartment and peered into his palms.

"What?" Hermione asked curiously.

Ron gestured for her to join him at the window. "Come here," he requested. He kept one hand behind his back as she approached. Once she was standing in front of him, he looked up at the ceiling, his face scrunched in feigned concentration. "So I hear that Vicky bought you flowers for your birthday."

Hermione blinked. That was out of the blue. "Yes."

"Lilies, wasn't it?" Ron continued.

"Yes, but--" Hermione folded her arms over her chest and gave Ron an utterly bewildered look. "--how did you know that?"

"Lavender told me," Ron explained. He smirked wryly. "Probably wanted me to think that the two of you were seeing each other."

It was the first time Ron had openly said something about Viktor that indicated that he believed that they were honestly just friends. Hermione smiled down at her shoes. He may always call him Vicky, but he was making progress nevertheless. "Oh."

"I heard how much you liked them so I thought--" He pulled out a single daisy he had obviously sent Pig to retrieve for her. He handed her the flower and pulled out his wand. "Hang on." With a well-placed tap and murmured incantation, the daisy turned the perfect shade of periwinkle blue. "There." He gave her the rakish grin the Weasley men had used for generations. "Thought you needed a going-away gift."

He really needed to stop being perfect. It was making their separation even harder than ever. Slowly, she took the flower from him and twirled it carefully and lovingly between her fingers. "Ron--"

"No, hang on, just listen," Ron insisted. "You said all you needed to say last night." Hermione smiled softly. Even though he had laughed at her, her words must have meant something to him. "So I'm going to go with Harry," he repeated needlessly. "You'll be with your parents and when you're ready, you'll tell me and figure out a way for you to come to Surrey." Hermione nodded in agreement. Ron then moved his head to indicate Pig who had settled down on the top of his cage, twittering to be let inside so he could take a well-deserved nap. "I want you to take Pig with you."

"I couldn't--"

"Yeah, you could," Ron cut in. "I'll be with Harry so we'll have Hedwig. Besides, Pig knows the way to Harry's better than anyone. He'll be there the fastest if you need to contact us. All of his stuff is in the storage thing under his cage. Just don't let Crookshanks eat him and you should be fine." Crookshanks let out a yowl at the mention of his name, but didn't complain further. Even her cat could seem to sense that he should be quiet right now so the moment wouldn't be spoiled. "And if you can't get to Surrey," Ron continued, "we'll meet you at the Burrow on Harry's birthday for the wedding."

"Right," Hermione confirmed.

Ron nodded needlessly. His Adam's apple bobbed funnily. "You'll write, won't you?"

"Of course," Hermione answered. "And Harry's aunt and uncle have a telephone so we could even speak on the phone."

A small smile broke out on Ron's face. He hadn't thought of that possibility. "Yeah. That'd be nice. It'd be good to hear your voice." Before Hermione could bask in those words, Ron had already made her stomach hop, skip, and jump again by bringing his hands up to run up and down her upper arms. He worked so hard at keep his voice optimistic, hearty, and confident, but Hermione would never let him know that she saw all of his uncertainty in his eyes. His hands finally stopped on her shoulders and he treated her to a wider, earnest, hopeful smile. "And I don't know how this is all going to end, Hermione, but I do know that you are going to be perfect when Harry blows You-Know-Who out of the sky. You are going to graduate and make loads of money and become Minister of Magic and free the house-elves and be absolutely perfect, okay?" Some of his fingers lifted to memorize every bend and twist of her untamable curls. "Don't forget that," Ron added.

"I won't," she promised. And she never would. She would never forget any of these perfect moments with Ron.

"Good." Ron tried to step away from her, but he couldn't. Not for the first time, Hermione's presence was hypnotizing him, urging him to finally act on something he had been dying to do ever since she had burst into his compartment and asked if he had seen Neville's toad. Hermione remained perfectly still although every inch of her was pinging and popping with anticipation. She also had been waiting for him to act on what she had felt the moment she had caught sight of his hair glittering in the September sunshine as he sat in this very compartment, stuffing his face with candy and clutching a not-so-loyal rat named Scabbers. They had come so far since that first meeting. It seemed rather appropriate that they were standing here again, possibly at the end of their Hogwarts career, in a completely different place but at the same time feeling as excited and uncertain as those two eleven year olds had.

"Weasley is our king..."

Ron blinked and started while Hermione stepped backwards in confusion. What on earth...

"Weasley is our king

He always lets Granger in

Weasley is our king..."

Hermione's hand shot over her mouth as she looked out the window and realized that they had an audience. Dean, Jimmy Peakes, Colin, and Ernie Macmillian had joined together in an impromptu quartet, their arms around each other as they serenaded the young lovers. Neville was discretely trying to shut them up, but he couldn't help watching with interest while Harry just stood off to the side, his head averted so his friends wouldn't see him laughing in spite of himself. The song continued as Ron stepped back with clenched fists.

"Right. Would you excuse me?" he requested in mock politeness before he seized his trunk and shot out of the compartment. Hermione remained behind, debating how she was going to collect her trunk, Crookshanks, and Pig, before Ron suddenly returned, panting, red-faced. Wordlessly, he snatched up Pig, tossed him in his cage, and carried the cage out for her. He was gone before she could thank him. Hermione let out a little laugh. He had remembered she would need help carrying everything. Even in his fury, he had remembered.

Hermione looked out the window in time to see Ron jump off the train, drop his stuff, and charge. Harry almost fell to the floor with mirth. The quartet scattered hastily, Jimmy diving behind a mound of trunks to protect himself, Colin scooting straight over to the queue to King's Cross, Ernie trying to dive back onto the train, and Dean, whose legs were the only ones long enough to rival Ron's stride, taking off running down the platform away from everyone else. Sensing that was his easiest target, Ron took off after him. "Come on, Ron," Dean shouted over his shoulder. "Don't blame us. We didn't have time to think up really good lyrics--next time they'll rhyme, I swear--!"

"Rhyme, will they? I'll show you what rhymes!" Ron returned. His retort didn't really make sense, but it was enough to make Dean pump his legs even faster. Ron continued after him and Hermione watched the two boys chase each other round and round the platform, using one hand to hide her quiet laughter. She quite loved that no matter what, Ron would always be her Ron. Harry would still be Harry. She would still be herself. Come what may, life would go on.

After a few minutes, Hermione finally turned from the window and carefully stuck the blue daisy behind her ear before collecting her belongings. That had certainly ruined the moment. But Hermione found that she wasn't really very angry. She had a feeling a lot more of those moments were coming. She just had to wait a little longer. Lithely, she hopped off of the train and rolled her trunk over to Harry. He was unsuccessfully trying to swallow the rest of his laughter while rearranging his belongings. "Shut it, Harry," she said with a grin. In all honesty, it was just so good to see Harry laugh like this that she didn't care that she and Ron were the source of his amusement. She didn't think Harry would ever laugh again after losing Dumbledore and Ginny. She had to admit that it felt odd to be acting so silly and laughing so heartily at a time like this, but Hermione had a feeling that wherever he was, Dumbledore was smiling that benign smile of his down upon them. He would have loved to see his students enjoying life.

"Come on, Ron!" she called loudly. He still hadn't caught Dean and she didn't think he would. Dean really was quite quick.

Ron raced after Dean for three more seconds before heeding Hermione's request and slowing down to a stop. Safely behind a group of gaggle of second-year Hufflepuffs, Dean stuck his head out to cheekily yell after him, "She's got you whipped, mate!"

Ron wheeled back around, but Hermione had already strode over to him and grabbed the back of his jumper. "Come on!" she insisted with a good-natured roll of her eyes.

"You won't let me hit Percy, you won't let me hit Dean, who can I hit round here?" Ron muttered as Hermione led him back over to Harry.

"No one," Hermione told him lightly. She kept a hand on Ron's sweater while bending over to pick up her trunk.

"But it'd make me feel better!" Ron wheedled again.

Hermione pushed him away playfully in lieu of an answer. His lighthearted remark hadn't worked earlier at Dumbledore's funeral and it wasn't about to work now. She picked up Crookshanks' cage while Ron reluctantly went to retrieve his trunk and Pig's cage. Harry waited patiently with that funny pensive joyful look he had had when they had told him they were coming with him to find all of the Horcruxes. Apparently, Dumbledore wasn't the only one who had enjoyed that little display. Ron returned and the three of them stood in the back of the line that had gathered of students waiting to return out in King's Cross. After a few minutes, they had reached the front of the queue and unconsciously, as one, the three of them took a deep breath.

"Ready?" Harry asked quietly.

Ron grinned and rolled his head to look at Harry. "I was born ready."

All Hermione could do was smile. She really loved those two boys.

And with that thought burning in her heart, without further ado, the trio stepped through the barrier and into their uncertain future.