Hi,

This is my first attempt at writing a long one. In fact, this is my second ever story. I wanted to show Hermione's POV for the majority, while still mentioning the views from the other characters. This will mostly be a story about how she and the other two tidied things up after the Battle of Hogwarts in order to begin a new life.

So, without further ado, enjoy! Reviews are always welcome.

She stood across the Great Hall, staring at his family. They surrounded Fred's body, flooding his serene face with hot tears. The death of the once laughing Fred Weasley weighed upon her throat, muting all sounds, and upon her eyes, refusing exit for tears. For half an hour, she simply stood there, numbly watching as one by one they kissed his forehead, held his hand and caressed his tranquil complexion; save Mrs Weasley and George, who for the entire time stared emptily into his closed eyes. The look on George's face sent chills over her; she'd never seen such a look of desperation, utter loss and death. Fred was the other part of him, and now that part lay silently on the floor, unmoving.

When Ron's eyes reached across the Hall and found hers, it was as though her legs finally found reason to move. She closed the distance between them as she found her way through the rare empty spots on the floor, her eyes barely leaving his. The disbelief, frustration, desperation and guilt seemed to flow from his tear stricken eyes into the tiredly beating mass inside her chest. Silently, she took his hands in hers and led him away from the death, the injured and the mourning. As they left the Hall, she felt a hand grab hers from the right, and was not at all surprised when she saw Harry's sullen complexion. Together, the trio crossed the grass and arrived at Hagrid's place.

Although it had never really been clean or tidy, the cottage now looked beyond disastrous. The door was several feet from its rightful place, the cauldron inside the cottage blasted into pieces and Buckbeak's food scattered everywhere on the ground. Knowing that it was impossible to enter the house, the three of them contented themselves with sitting on his doorstep, watching the rising sun. For an hour, they sat in silence, staring as the sun rose, oblivious to the bloodshed that had claimed countless lives.

Hermione could feel the growing weight of Harry's shoulders – as dawn approached, it seemed his responsibilities flooded back to him. As if feeling her gaze, he turned and returned a look of grief and reluctance. "I… I guess I have to return to the castle now. I can't leave Professor McGonagall alone in dealing with the questions and demands," said Harry, his voice now croaked from the long silence.

"Harry, we'll come with you." replied Hermione, ready to stand.

"No. You stay with Ron, he needs you right now. I.. I'll find a way to cope. Just make sure he's okay first… what with Fred and…" At this point, Harry could not continue. He held her hand for a while, and gave it squeeze as he came to his feet and walked towards the castle.

Hermione watched as he left, her heart like lead as she stared at his forlorn, leaving figure. She turned back to Ron, who now seemed to have calmed from his flooding emotions, his eyes replaced by emptiness. Shifting in her seat so that her side now pressed against his, she wrapped her arm around his shoulder and placed his head on her shoulder. She knew he would not speak until he was ready to, so she waited in silence, listening to the distant sound of life.

"It… it could've… no, it should've been me," came Ron's voice after another half an hour, overwhelmed with regret and guilt. He shrank away from Hermione and buried his face in his hands. "It should've been me."

"Ronald Weasley. I've always known that you're a bit out of your mind, but now you've truly gone bonkers," replied Hermione's stern voice. Surprised by this reprimanding tone, he looked up from his despair. Tears crowded in Hermione's eyes, but she wiped it away. She looked almost… angry.

"Hermione… he was right next to me. If it'd been a few inches it could've been me…"

"Oh and that makes all the difference in the world doesn't it? You would rather have died and let Fred take all the guilt for the rest of his life! Ron, how can you say what you've just said? You…" At this, Hermione could no longer stop her tears. Ron, at a complete loss for words, simply stared. "Ron, did you see your mother's look when she saw that you were all alright?" she whispered, tears still flowing freely from her eyes.

"No, I…"

"Fred's death," something arrested her throat, but she refused to relinquish to it. "… Fred's death couldn't have been prevented. He… There was no way in the world anyone could have prevented that blast… not even Dumbledore himself."

Ron reached over and placed her head on his shoulder whilst he wrapped his arm around her form and placed his cheek against her forehead. Both sat in silence once more, their tears and sobs filling the air around them.

He broke the silence fifteen minutes later: "I just.. I don't know how I can go back in there and face them.. face them all. What if.. what if.."

"Ron, all that Mrs Weasley wants right now is for you to be there, safely next to her. She's already lost… lost one child. Don't let her lose another to guilt." After several moments of contemplation, Ron nodded. They silently rose under the early sunlight and walked back to the castle, fingers entwined, as if to draw courage from each other.