Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
It was over, they'd won. So why did she feel so empty? Why did she feel as though nothing mattered? The weeks that had followed the battle had been rough. There was so much rebuilding: of the school and of broken hearts. There had been funeral after funeral and she stood through them all stoically. It wasn't that she didn't feel anything, it was that she had to be strong for everyone else. They depended on her, needed her to be a constant pillar. And she hated them for it.
Not one of the Weasley's or Harry had put a comforting hand on her shoulder or allowed her to grieve. She'd lost family too but they didn't seem to notice. Her hand shot up to her arm, a constant reminder of the horrors they had faced. She was exhausted, she hadn't slept in far too long. When she tried, nightmares plagued her mind so she stayed up and helped others through the night.
She looked around, noticing no one was talking to her. She was alone as everyone comforted each other; a rare moment. She could slip away without anyone noticing and she took it the first chance she got. She felt her body move, her feet taking her where she wanted to go. The corridors familiar through the rubble. They were unnaturally empty and quiet but even so the soft thud of her footsteps went unheard in the wake of grief that surrounded the castle.
She made it to the room of requirement and took a shaky breath. She was sick of being strong. "Granger?" Draco Malfoy had publicly switched to the right side and fought against his family and all of his previous beliefs during the battle. She turned around to find genuine concern in his expression, he wanted to help.
She looked into his eyes and couldn't take any of it anymore. She was strong, but the weight had grown heavy. He spoke again. "Are you alright?" Those words broke her and she launched herself into his arms and cried. She sobbed out all of her grief. For her parents, her friends, her family, all the innocents they had lost. She sobbed for her own pain, suffering, and fear. She sobbed in anger that until him no one had asked her how she was doing.
He held her close, not saying a word, simply being there. His grey eyes a swirl of emotions, holding her steady against her storm of grief. They stayed like that for hours, until her cries eventually subsided into quiet staggered breaths. "Thank you." She muttered, embarrassed. He smiled a genuine albeit sad smile and brushed a tear from the side of her face. "Anytime… Hermione. You don't have to be strong all the time, not in front of me. You went through a lot; you deserve some comfort too."
She looked at him through puffy eyes and took his hand. "Want to go for a walk?" "What about your friends?" "They won't miss me." "They're gits then." He intoned. A corner of her mouth quirked upwards slightly. "Maybe a little." He dropped their hands and she frowned but he put his arm around her, a silent sign of support. She gave him a real smile then, and together they walked out onto the grounds, revelling in each other's comfort.