Hermione sat there in an overstuffed chair in the library of Grimmauld Place. She had sat there for nearly an hour now in complete silence, hands folded neatly in her lap, staring at the chair across from her. Of course it hadn't just been a chair she was staring at when she sat down. No, there indeed, had been someone occupying that moth-eaten chair. A man with with bright orange hair and legs to long for his own good had sat there, looking miserable, a look that didn't suit him. They had turned twenty that year; the war had ended several months ago and they were beginning to move on with their lives. His father hadn't survived. His oldest brother, his sister.. their best friend. The boy with raven hair and bright eyes had defeated the Dark Lord but had not seen that last curse coming. After all, even the most blessed and loved don't have eyes in the back of their heads. But still, they moved on, slowly but surely, storing the pain in the back of their mind until they closed their eyes to sleep. His words echoed through her mind.

" I can't stay. I look at you..or I look at this bloody house or what's left of my family.. I can't think of this anymore. I can't be around any of this. Do you understand?" She couldn't say it was unexpected. She didn't blame him. She even kept the selfish thoughts of ' You're all I have left here.' silent in the dark of her throat. Not being able to think of anything to say, she simply nodded, honey curls brushing her emotionless face. Before he had walked out he had placed a hand on her shoulder for a moment. She wondered if that was his idea of a ' You're my friend, I'll never forget you, I love you. Goodbye.'

She sighed quietly now, rising from the decrepit chair . The last hour would register soon, she intended to enjoy the numbness as long as she could. She had found a stash of firewhiskey last month and on depressing occasions, which there was no shortage of lately, she would treat herself to a glass or three. Hermione tipped back against the bookcase and let herself slide unceremoniously to the floor. She sipped at the bottle, her eyes slowly beginning to mist over. She wondered what Harry would be doing if he was here. Playing chess with Ron, she decided. She took another long drink, it didn't burn so much anymore. Hermione didn't open here eyes when she heard the door open ajar; she hoped it was someone coming to kill her quickly. This thought made her smile, it made her laugh.

" Hermione?" The voice was somewhat familiar but she couldn't place it.

"Mmm?" she answered lamely, her eyes still closed.

" You're drinking." The voice sounded slightly annoyed.

" Mmm huh."

She heard the movement of their clothes as they crossed the room. She felt them settle on the ground next to her.

" He left. Didn't he?" She opened her eyes and turned slowly to face Remus.

" I don't think he's coming back." Even as the words slid between her lips it hadn't quite hit her yet. He reached slowly and silently over her and clutched the bottle, bringing it to his own lips. He passed it back to her, a shadow of a smile gazing his lips. She blinked slowly, the tears were coming now but she didn't mind. The mix of the liquor and company put her at ease.

" We're going to be alright." He took her hand. They sat like that for the remainder of the evening, hand in hand, staring into the diminishing fire and passing the warm amber liquid between them. They sat in silence, a comfortable friendship. They were alone together.