A/N: Okay, as it says in my summary below, this is slightly out of character, and I'll admit to that. However, this idea would not get out of my head until I wrote it down and posted it, so here it is. I'm particularly fond of the title. Anyway, enjoy!

Rating: K+ (PG)

Genre: Angst/Tragedy

Summary: This takes place directly after HBP as the trio is boarding the Hogwarts Express to go home. It's a bit OOC, so I apologize for that. It's fairly good, though. I think I caught the post-funeral mood just right. This kinda fits in with my other stories, especially Waiting for You and Dark Clouds, but you don't have to read them to understand this. Hermione's POV. Obviously HBP spoilers.

Disclaimer: Don' own nuthin

Tear Stains

"All Aboard!"

Hermione Granger sighed wearily as Ron Weasley helped her heave her trunk onto the Hogwarts Express, which was billowing out steam as it prepared to leave Hogsmeade Station. Normally at the end of a school year everyone was cheerful and ready to go home, but this year was different.

Since Dumbledore died, no one was the same. Most had left before the funeral, and many had left directly after, being hugged closely by their parents. The few people who were returning to London via the train were in the depths of mourning. Everyone of every year and house was grieving the loss of their beloved headmaster, wishing for the days of security and comfort that he represented. Hermione would pass many people crying on each other's shoulders, or trying to force laughs thinking about old times. Hermione felt that she was beyond tears, but a feeling of despair had settled over her. Ron was trying to hold everything together, and Ginny - his little sister - was unusually quiet and pensive. All of this worried her, but nothing scared her more than the state of her best friend, Harry Potter.

Harry had been closer to Dumbledore over the years than any student Hermione knew, and perhaps any student ever. Dumbledore had always been there to oversee everything in Harry's life, whether wanted or not. But in this past year, Harry had grown particularly close to Dumbledore, diving into the Pensieve with him and learning how to destroy Voldemort. Hermione had a feeling Harry was more honest with his mentor than he ever was with her or Ron. Dumbledore helped him accept Cedric and Sirius' deaths, though never fully, because Harry took too much blame upon himself for both lives lost - especially Sirius'. And now he'd had to watch yet another person die, and he yet again blamed himself. He just loved people too much – so much that he blamed himself for every bad thing that happened too them.

The grief was taking its toll. He constantly walked heavily, shoulders slumped as if he literally carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was sickly pale from lack of food and sleep and he had dark circles under his eyes.

Those eyes.

The once startling emerald green eyes now had a certain deadened, their color now a depressing gray. They looked tired and worn, yet fierce and strong, with a determination to accomplish what everyone expected of him – what he expected of himself.

"Hermione, Harry, you coming?"

Hermione snapped out of her reverie as she realized she was still standing on the platform. And so was Harry. He was staring sadly up at the castle for what he believed to be the last time. She heard him sigh heavily and then walk past her onto the train, eyes downcast. Hermione quickly followed.

It wasn't too difficult to find a compartment; so few people were riding the train. They quickly found an empty compartment and put their things on the racks above their heads before sitting heavily onto the comfortable seats.

They sat in silence as the train slowly began to leave the station and started to gather speed. Harry had his head against the window as he looked out at the landscape whizzing by. Hermione and Ron were sitting next to each other, Ron's arm wrapped around her waist and her head on his shoulder, comforting each other and trying to force conversation. But every time they tried to include Harry, he didn't respond. In fact, he had been eerily silent the past few days, especially after his encounter with Scrimgeour earlier that day. Hermione couldn't tell if he was ignoring them, or if he was so lost in his grief that he truly couldn't hear them. He remained still and silent for more than an hour, staring blankly with those sad grey eyes. But when the compartment door opened he turned his head along with Hermione and Ron.

"'Lo, everybody," said Ginny, trying very hard to sound cheerful.

In truth, Hermione was surprised that Ginny hadn't shown up sooner. She and Harry were normally inseparable. Especially these past few days since Dumbledore... well, since it happened. But Hermione couldn't help but notice the tension in the air heighten when Ginny walked in. It was accentuated by Harry suddenly standing up.

"I'm going to... er... go find the lunch trolley," Harry said quickly before hurrying out the door.

Hermione and Ron raised their eyebrows as they watched Harry leave. Ginny, however, simply sighed and sank down into the seat across from them. Ron, ever observant, turned to Ginny.

"What was that about?"

Hermione looked at Ginny as well, for once grateful for Ron's blatant comments, as she was curious as well. Ginny probably knew Harry better than anyone. Harry had opened up to her in the last six weeks more than he had to Ron and Hermione in the past six years. Of course, he hadn't told her about the prophecy or the Horcruxes, Hermione was certain of that. But he had opened up to something deeper – his inner turmoil that Hermione and Ron had been trying to tap into for years. Hermione was not at all jealous of Ginny – she was perfect for Harry – but perhaps that was why Hermione found herself upset with the petite redhead sitting across from her.

"Ginny, what are you doing? He needs you right now. Go after him!" Hermione burst out exasperatedly. She looked at Ginny, waiting for her answer. Ginny gulped and answered in a barely audible whisper.

"I... can't."

Hermione's never seen Ginny look more depressed than she did at that moment. Her eyes looked almost as red as her hair, indicating that she had been crying – which Ginny rarely did. Ginny was always strong, excepting Dumbledore's funeral, when no one could prevent the tears from flowing. What could possibly be wrong?

Sighing, Hermione stood up. "Well then, I suppose I'll go after him." She stood up and stomped out of the compartment, telling Ron not to follow.

She walked through the empty corridor, looking for any sign of Harry. She passed by a compartment and saw the lady that pushed the trolley sleeping on one of the seats. Hermione glanced at her watch. 4:30 p.m. The lunch trolley? Honestly, what a horribly stupid excuse.

She continued to walk down the corridor, for several minutes, realizing that she was nearing the end of the train. She peaked into every compartment, most of which were empty. Finally she reached the very last compartment. Sighing heavily because she knew what lay beyond, she pushed open the door and stepped in.

As expected, Harry was there. He sat with his back against the wall closest to the door with his knees tucked in to his chest. His arms were wrapped around his legs, hugging them tightly. He was staring out the window opposite them, his eyes red and glazed over, the new grayish color standing out more than ever before. She could tell he was trying really hard to hold back tears – tears that had probably been threatening since Cedric Diggory was murdered. As she entered he did not react, but continued to stare out the window.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

She could have kicked herself for saying that at a time like this. However, at least she got him to speak.

"Go away, Hermione," he mumbled barely above a whisper.

"Please Harry, I just want to help-"

"I said go away," he said a little louder and more forcefully, but she had heard his voice crack. She started to get closer, but he shook his head, still not looking at her. "Please."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. Harry was acting very oddly indeed. Normally he was so well composed, never letting his emotions show. In fact, he hadn't even been like this until earlier today. She decided the funeral was probably too much for him. It was too much for all of them.

"All right, I understand. But you should really talk to Ginny. I'm sure she could help."

Harry shook his head again and croaked, "I can't."

Hermione was getting really fed up with the way these two were acting.

"And why not?"

Harry looked like he was in extreme pain when he next spoke, his face contorting as he croaked,

"I broke up with her."

All annoyance and impatience she had felt earlier instantly evaporated at the look on Harry's face. He looked so... lost. She didn't know how she hadn't spotted it before. Seeing him like this made her feel horrible. He'd already been through so much in his life, what with his parents, Cedric, and now Dumbledore... He'd finally gotten a bit of stability and happiness with Ginny. And now he had broken up with her.

"But Harry... why?"

He bit his lip and finally looked up at her, his eyes filled with anguish.

"Everyone who has ever been close to me has died. And now that Dumbledore's gone... I just... If that was her... I couldn't..."

Harry's voice failed him. He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. A single tear rolled down his cheek, dripping down and splashing into his robes. His lower lip began to tremble uncontrollably and he bit it harder. Hermione's heart crushed to see her best friend like this and, not knowing what else to do, she sat down next to him and pulled him into her arms. Surprisingly, he didn't object to her hug as he normally did. He was hurting too much for that. They simply sat there for several minutes, his head resting on her shoulder as silent tears rolled down his cheeks, soaking her shirt as she rubbed his back comfortingly.

She had only seen Harry cry two times in her life – after the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament, and this afternoon at the funeral. It wasn't healthy for someone like Harry, who'd been through so much, to keep all his emotions locked inside.

After a few minutes, Harry relaxed and slowly sat up, wiping his eyes under his glasses. Hermione looked at him sadly.

"You really love her, don't you?"

Harry sniffed and nodded. Then he turned to look out the window again. They sat there in silence for several long moments before Hermione stood.

"Well, we should be arriving in London soon. Do you want to come back to the compartment for the last few minutes?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I think I'll stay here a little longer."

She nodded and headed toward the door.

"Hermione?"

She turned and looked at Harry again. The sadness was still there, but she could see a bit of the green in his eyes returning. To her great surprise, she also noted a blush rising in his cheeks.

"Would you mind... not telling Ron about this?"

Hermione might have laughed out loud had he not looked so sincere. Boys... she thought with a smile. "Of course, Harry."

He smiled gratefully. "Thanks."

"Any time."