Hermione`s POV
We all desended Dumbledore`s spiral stone staircase; Harry first, followed secondly by Ron and then finally, myself. We were greeted with a mixed applause. As we walked through the school, I noticed many groups of people huddled together, giving each other support for the loss of their loved ones. The malfoys were still a complete family I gathered from my observations, something I knew would anger Ron and Harry immensely. Why would their family be permitted to remain whole and intact while those who fought for the goodness of the world had their families shattered because of people like the Malfoy`s? Life did not usually make sense, and the way it wove its magic into every day realities was often the subject of many peoples complaints. At least someone still had everyone they loved close by.
We passed by Ronalds family, and I longed to have mine here to share this moment with me. Currently, they were residing in Australia, with absolutely no clue of the existence of their daughter who was still in England. I missed my parents hugely, and though I thoroughly enjoyed Harry and the Weasley`s company, there was still a hole inside me.
I felt Rons hand slip through mine, grasping my fingers, giving me strength but also offering me guidance. Harry led the way down the magical flights of stairs, and the world of magic once again became surreal to me. How this many people have perished when they had the ability of magic on their side? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Harry take many glances at Ginny, who was standing about fifteen yard away from us. She was with her mother and George, mourning over the loss of Fred, the other red-haired weasley brother that had now departed the earth forever. There were silent tears running down Mrs. Weasleys face in memory of her son. Harry, Ron and I continued our silent procession through the school. The piles of the dead seemed so numerous, and I felt a wave of sadness overcome me as I recognized face after face. I saw Ernie and Hannah, and so many others. I even thought I saw mundungus fletcher in the mix somewhere. I felt myself start to tear up and I kept on walking, continuing through the palace.
I found myself, three years later, sitting on a train quite similar to the one I used to ride on to arrive at Hogwarts. Rain dripped down my window as I starred up into the gray sky, wondering where my old school compainions were at this moment (the ones that were alive, at least). Scenery flew by me in a mix of murky grays and blues and sometimes greens as it weaved through England. After the war with Voldemort- I shuddered at the thought of that great, snake-like being- we had all gone our separate ways. Having no connection to the school of which us three had spent six years of our teenage years, we left. Harry turned to the ministry, and followed his desire to become an Auror. Ron and I travelled the country together, stopping in little wizarding communities as we went. After a while, our journeys became uneventful and overall boring, so I returned to Hogwarts to teach while Ron continued his adventure elsewhere. So on this train, I found myself, travelling through England without anyone to accompany me. I was barely 21 years of age. My two best friends that I had were now gone, and though I had tried my best with replacements, I was unsuccessful.
The train slowly came to a stop, groaning as it did so. I stood up and walked quickly to the nearest exit, completing the trip I was on. With my suitcase in hand, I strolled down the foggy streets of London to finally arrive at a place I had know very well in the years of my adolescence; the Leaky Cauldron. The muggles that surrounded me were blind to this litte pub, and even if they weren't, I doubted that many muggles would dare to set foot inside. The Leaky Cauldron looked very rusted and old, almost an antique. The windows were filled with fog and there were cobwebs in every corner. However, I knew that on the inside there was warmth and cleanliness, and that I was almost garenteed a good time upon my entry.
Stepping over the threshold, I was embraced with warmth as the Leaky Cauldron consumed me. I sat down at an old, worn table near the back of the open floor and waited for a waitress to come and serve me. When a young witch, who looked about the age of 18, asked me what I wanted to drink, I simply ordered a glass of butterbeer. After she left to go place my order, I watched the people around me. I remembered walking down the spindly stairs every morning in the summer before my third year of Hogwarts schooling, always to find Ron with Harry and the rest of the Weasleys. It was often just Ginny and I left together, us two girls, while the boys went off to be boys. (Scaring little kids, catching frogs, anything of that sort). Ginny Weasley became my best friend who was a girl. I had come to know her very well, and I also had come to learn of her fondness of Harry. Yes, as years went by, she did give up on him. She started dating other guys, and I thought that she had left Harry behind. It was until our sixth year of schooling that she finally found that she still had feelings for him, and they started dating (or going out, anything you would wish to call it).
Oh, these memories sent a shiver down my spine. I missed my old school mates so much; they used to be so close to my heart. I thought of Harry, working for the ministry and Ron, whose whereabouts were unknown to me. I wondered how I could've let such great friendships go to waste, especially all of the hardships we had experienced together. Even Ginny, I thought, I would still keep close company with. But I was wrong. My old friends held so many old memories. Many of them were strong, happy, and wonderfull. Alas, those few that were not joyus, were terrible. They were horrifying. The memories of the last night that Voldemort was alive; the last night I ever saw Tonks and Lupin and all of those people I had know and looked up to. They were all gone.
The waitress who had taken my order hurried to my seat and set down a glass filled to the brim with amber colored liquid. I raised it to my mouth and started to drink. A feeling of warmth ignited in my stomach as the liquid dripped down my throat. I starred off into the distance, continuing to think about what used to be.
Harry's POV
I bit my lip. Susan had forgotten to post my upcoming job on my desk. I sighed, and slowly lowered myself into the hard, wooden chair that sat behind my desk. Typical. My boss was a very forgetful person. Well, with no work there for me to complete this morning, I decided to take a little nap. I closed my eyes slowly and tried to fall into unconsciousness. As soon as my vision was clouded, memories started swirling around in my head. Faces of dead people came in view. All of those people lost… And it was my fault. If only I had found the horurcuxes sooner. All of the "if only"'s came into my mind and I shut them out. Every day for the past 3 years, all I could think about is how I failed them. Even the Weasleys, who were my second family, I had to turn my back on. I caused the death of one of their sons.
I sat up straight. The door had just opened and I found my boss standing right in front of me.
"Oh hey Susan." I said casually.
"Don't 'oh hey' me Harry," she said in a very strict tone, "Why are you sleeping on the job? And don't tell me that you cant get over the death of Fred and Lupin and all of those other people. That was three years ago and this is now!" And with that, she slammed a stack of papers on my desk and stormed out of my cubicle. I looked at the top of the paper. In bold print, it read;
Arlene Hufstater
Offense: Use of underage Magic
Age: 16
I groaned. Not another one! Arlene was probably just some hormonal teenager who got in a fight against her parents and conjured a silencing charm on them. Why are they even looking into this case? It was no big deal. I shoved it aside and closed my eyes once again. I remembered once more all of the people I had left behind, not only the dead ones but the living as well. Ron, Hermione... I let my thoughts wander around of their own accord. I did not want to think of…her. Of Ginny. Oh, how I longed to see my old friends once more.