It was always the same. I had a drink in my hand and was recounting the ill fate of them all. My fingers caressed the glass and my eyes burnt like the dam too strong to break... but held the river. The heat from the flames in the fireplace from afar was warm in the room and made my knitted sweater almost too heavy.
"Can I get you anything?" Her voice was soft and shook me from my self loathing.
"No, Hermione, I will live through the night," trying and failing miserably to hide my pain the young witch willingly exposed herself to.
The vision of her was so foreign in this setting on nights like this. The young woman was always dressed conservatively with her hair bound back, but a small curvature to her lips. For the life of me I could not figure out why she stayed. "Remus, I worry about you," her voice was strained and difficult; I hated hearing the timbers of sadness in them. "I would give anything for you to have them back again. For you to have her back..." The trailing of despair played havoc with her usual sweet and floral scent.
"It is not your fault. You do not need to pity me, Hermione," I would give anything to hide the sorrow in my voice just for five minutes!
Instead of moving for the door, her small form collapsed next to mine. It was not unusual for us to be so close, but she pressed forth and held me to her. There was a stirring that happens when someone so good, so innately genuine and kind, gives a piece of themselves to you. In that moment she had given me her without knowing. The woman barely old enough to be considered such, took me in her arms and kissed my temple.
"I promise, Moony. I promise we can fix this broken heart together. Even if it means I have to accomplish the impossible. You are too grand to suffer as you have," The tenderness made me cave and I took her form to mine.
I held her and closed my eyes, enjoying the contact that was few and far between. She was the only witch, since Dora, that would spare me an ounce of kindness without pity. "Why are you here? Why do you stand watch over my broken heart and my young son so tenderly?" I breathed gently and her body bounced against mine with a giggle.
Holding me out in front of her, the stare she gave me was slightly pointed, but her smile was playful, "I am the only one who can understand such plight, Remus. It is hard to lose someone you love, let alone many. My parents may not have been my partner and best friends, but they were my parents. I will never see them again, but we can try to fix this," she paused and pressed a soft hand to my chest. "That we can definitely work on."
Hermione Granger could not feel the thrumming of my heart against her fingers quite like I felt it. It hammered in my head and made my senses grow overwhelmed. The witch did not know gestures like that meant more than words, even though we shared such a fondness for them. My pain was generally a split moment of muted textures when she addressed me like this. She had no clue that she was placing bandages over a shattered heart.