Grief. How could there be so much of it? After the months they had suffered, and planned, and fought, so that everyone could live a life without darkness and pain. So how, after everything they had been through, was there so much grief? Hermione just couldn't understand. They had won, they had defeated the most evil wizard that the world would ever know and yet there was still so much hurt.
Yes, Voldemort was gone, dead, and there was absolutely no possibility of his return. So why, when Hermione Granger looked around, did everything still seem the same? Families clutching onto one another for fear of losing each other again, long lost friends crying after being united, the stragglers who were wandering around calling for people who would not answer, people that had been shed in the battle, unnoticed to everyone else who was still fighting for their lives. And then, there were the dead. Some were surrounded by their family members who were crying by their side, being held on to as if a touch or a hug would bring them back to life. There were also the other dead bodies littered around the castle grounds. Some had not been noticed or found yet, and others were the bodies of people who didn't have anyone to come looking for them. And suddenly, the little happiness that had exploded in Hermione's heart due to the night's events was gone, as if it had never been there at all. Because she realized that she too was affected.
The person she cared most for in the world was somewhere with his family feeling an unbearable amount of pain as he cried by the lifeless form of his brother Fred. Upon this realization, Hermione slid down against the wall she was leaning on and onto the cold stone floor of the castle. She cried for what seemed like hours, but she didn't really understand why. Yes of course she was devastated that Fred was dead, but she didn't think this was the entire reason. Then, like always, the real reason hit Hermione like a powerful spell…she was scared. Scared that he wouldn't feel the same way she did. Scared that now that they were safe, Ron would think that the kiss they had shared mere hours before was something brought on by fear rather than true emotions. Scared that he didn't share the same feelings she did. And what did she feel? Yes, she had thought of Ron as something more than a best friend since the end of their second year. She knew she had fancied him even when they fought over his pet rat Scabbers in their third year. And as time went on, these feelings only grew and strengthened. With every fight and every little disagreement Hermione came to care more and more for Ron. Even after he had almost destroyed everything and left on their hunt, she couldn't forget him, couldn't let go of what they might have had. And every night, every single night while he was gone, she imagined him coming back. Imagined the kiss she wanted to give him and didn't think she ever would have the courage to give him. And then against all odds, he had come back, she had kissed him. Hermione had never been in love. She didn't know what it felt like or if it even really did exist. No, she did know. She was sure that what she felt for Ronald Weasley was love. Not the brotherly, best friend sort of love that she felt for Harry. She was in love with him. Coming to grips with this fact made all of the difference in the world to Hermione. And she knew that if he felt the same way, that none of this grief, this pain, could ever hurt her. It meant everything to her to know how Ron felt. But she couldn't ask now because she was sure he didn't feel the same. How could he? He was Ron, perfect, sweet, caring, funny, kind Ron. And she was Hermione, who only knew books and the walls of the library in which she constantly hid herself in. And he couldn't love her. And going to him now would only make things worse. And how could she do that to the person she loved? How could she hurt him even more. So she wouldn't. And she would stay away even though it was the hardest thing in the world to do. She would stay away, because she did love him. And she wanted him at least, to be happy.