Hermione sat cross-legged on the Gryffindor common room couch, her History of Magic book perched on her lap. The room, and in fact, the whole school, had been eerily quiet in these first months. A once joyful, buzzing community of witches and wizards was now haunted by by the emotional (and literal) ghosts of the war. There was no one within the school grounds who hadn't been affected by the battle, and it was painted on everyone's face.

Hermione was having an especially hard time being back at Hogwarts without Ron and Harry by her side. She understood why they didn't come back. They had both lost a part of themselves in the war. Hermione had too, but being Hermione, she couldn't abandon her studies. She had been offered a job as an auror just like Ron and Harry, but she needed to be back at school. Ron and Harry coped by working and drinking, and Hermione coped by studying. Which is why she was here, curled up in front of the Gryffindor fireplace, at nearly two o'clock in the morning.

"Hermione?" Ginny called tenderly, from the doorway of the common room.

Hermione looked up, startled. "Oh, I lost track of time," she said, peering at the large grandfather clock in the corner of the room.

"It's okay. I'm just worried about you."

Hermione scowled, snapping her textbook shut. "You shouldn't be worrying about me. You've got plenty of other things to worry about."

Lately, Hermione had been quite short-tempered. Ginny was the only one patient enough with her to handle it, so she was the only other Hogwarts student that Hermione really talked to.

"You should go to sleep, you have class in the morning," Ginny replied, ignoring Hermione's previous comment.

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Ginny. No need to tell me what to do."

"Save it. I'm just trying to be helpful."

Hermione muttered something and followed Ginny up the stairs to their dorm. She had to admit that she was thankful for her friend. Ginny was the only person at Hogwarts who didn't look at Hermione with pity in her eyes. It was probably because everyone looked at Ginny that way too.

"Why are you up so late anyway?" Hermione asked and the girls settled into their room. Hermione didn't bother to change into her nightgown, and instead removed her cloak and let her warm duvet cover her.

Ginny flicked her bedside lamp off, leaving the room dark. They whispered so as not to wake the other girls.

"I couldn't sleep."

Hermione didn't pry any more. She knew what Ginny meant. The months after the war had been filled with nightmares and late-night crying sessions. Sometimes Hermione could see Fred's face when she shut her eyes, and she knew it must be worse for his sister.

The girls were quiet, each one avoiding shutting their eyes, knowing well what kind of nightmares would follow. After a long few moments of silence, Hermion whispered into the dark, "Ginny?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you come sleep with me?" She sounded like a child asking for her mother. Ginny smiled, though Hermione couldn't see it. Soon Hermione felt a warmth beside her in her bed.