The early morning sun began to peak out from behind a grey cloud; sending a beam of light into the room through a gap in the curtains. The drapes themselves swayed gently as a slight breeze entered the open window, a welcome change in the stifling room. As the figure on the bed stirred, a ginger ball of fur atop the thin blanket yawned; stretching out their limbs and then repositioning once more. Hermione, as if copying her familiar, stretched too; then carefully pulled aside the covers so as to not disturb the sleeping cat. Rubbing sleep from her chocolate eyes, Hermione swung her legs off her bed and sat up, letting one last yawn escape. With a quick smooth to Crookshanks' snoozing form; Hermione got to her feet and moved over to the large window. She yanked back the curtains, letting in even more light, and opened the window further; taking in a deep breath of the fresh summer air. Despite the earliness of the hour, the sun was creeping further away from the horizon already. Turning back around, she ambled across the room and passed the other four empty beds; all just bare mattresses aside from one which held a wreath of flowers – a small gesture of remembrance for one of Hermione's former roommates. She pulled open the door to the small adjoining bathroom and turned on the shower tap; water instantly spurting from the rusty head. Discarding her vest top and knickers on the floor; Hermione stepped into the warmth and pulled the shower curtain back across.
Arching her head back; she let the water cascade through her curls and trail down her slender form. As she worked the shampoo into her hair; she closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation of the heat permeating her aching limbs. She was already beginning to feel better under the waters temperature. Rinsing out her hair; she looked down at her naked body as she lathered herself with her favourite vanilla scented soap. Her figure was dotted in cuts and bruises; the largest one being a wound to her upper thigh that she had attained during the battle only three months prior. Thankfully it was healing; slowly and gradually fading into a pink scar. She trailed her hand down her arm and felt the raised bumps of her other scar; one she knew would never properly heal. Hermione still suffered many sleepless nights recalling that particular event.
Rinsing off the soap residue; Hermione reluctantly switched off the tap and stepped out onto the towelled floor. Picking up her wand; she cast a quick drying charm on her hair and body before dressing in a comfortable bra and knickers. She stood in front of the sink and wiped the mirror free of condensation. She surveyed her reflection with trepidation; never particularly happy with what she always saw looking back. Today was the same as every other day – hallow cheeks and dark circles beneath her eyes. She was just thankful that her split lip and head gash had healed. Hermione pulled a comb through her locks and tied it away from her face in a high ponytail, clipping back the few unkempt strands that always did as they pleased.
She massaged some moisturiser into her face and brushed her teeth, before vacating the bathroom and heading over to her trunk. She pulled on a pair of denim shorts – that thankfully covered her scar – and a simple pink long sleeve t-shirt. Despite the warm weather only increasing in temperature throughout the day, Hermione seldom wore anything that exposed her forearm; keeping those items of clothing for use when she knew she would be alone.
Pulling on her worn trainers; Hermione gave Crookshanks a scratch behind his ear before pocketing her wand and leaving her dorm; heading down to the Great Hall.
The large room was one of the first to be rebuilt after the War; many having agreed that it was the centre of life at Hogwarts. Everything in the room had been restored to its former glory, creating some semblance of normality despite the rest of the castle standing in near ruin. Slowly, and with painstaking effort from the volunteers; the school was finally beginning to heal.
Hermione noted that only a handful of the castle's occupants were already up as she entered the Hall; the small cluster sat at one end of the single long table situated in the centre.
She joined the half-dozen early risers with a small 'good morning' and seated herself next to Minerva, who was in discussion with Arthur and Bill Weasley. Professor's Slughorn and Flitwick were also chatting together; the only silent member was George. Hermione eyed the redhead as she helped herself to some tea; choosing to ignore the spread of breakfast foods. He was staring mindlessly into his untouched bowl of cereal; a pensive look on his features told Hermione he was a million miles away, lost in his own thoughts. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt and a pair of scruffy jeans that hung loosely on his tall frame. Hermione wasn't the only one whose appetite had all but vanished.
Her eyes moved from the deflated Weasley and scanned the vast room. The only addition to the Great Hall was the instillation of hundreds of small, bronze plaques that adorned the walls beneath the windows. Each plaque held the name and date of birth of the wizard or witch who gave their life fighting against Voldemort in both the wars. Hermione had read each and every name – a feat which took her a few evenings to complete.
As the morning drifted on; more of the castle's occupants made their way down to breakfast. Only a hundred people in total remained at the school as the summer wore on; many having left once the majority of the restoration work had been completed. Harry and Ron had left only last week to join the Auror training programme at the Ministry; something which Hermione had turned down. She had instead made the decision to complete her formal schooling before thinking about her future career. Neville had also helped out; but ever since the Greenhouses were rebuilt, he spent most of his time there, Professor Spout having taking him on as the schools first Herbology apprentice. He will be staying on at the school as Pomona's assistant come September. Ginny had impressed everyone by earning herself a place on the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team and had begun training with them almost immediately. She and Harry had officially moved in to Grimmauld Place together and were in the process of redecorating – when they had the time. Hermione and Ron's romance, on the other hand, had fizzled out rather quickly. They had enjoyed a few weeks of bliss before reality set in and they realised they were much better off as friends.
Once everyone had finished their breakfast; the large cluster split into their respective smaller groups – with Hermione's one heading out into the grounds. It was Arthur and Bill's joint idea to assign small groups of ten to work on various areas of the school; so no corridor or staircase was forgotten. Hermione's group was headed by Bill and contained fellow Gryffindor's Seamus Finnigan and Pavarti Patil as well as Terry Boot. There were four older witches and wizards who Hermione didn't know all that well, and one surprising face that Hermione didn't think she would ever see again – Draco Malfoy. The former Slytherin had faced a long trial back at the beginning of summer; with many believing he would be sentenced to Azkaban like his father. The jury, however, were lenient with him and he was ordered to carry out one thousand hours of community service – of which he had completed just over half – and sentenced to house arrest between the hours of 7pm to 7am. Minerva had agreed that Draco could carry out his service rebuilding the school he helped to ruin; with many people not happy with her decision. As time went on and Draco put in as much effort as everyone else, people gradually stopped complaining about his presence.
The group got to work in the forest; clearing debris and chopping down tress that had been too badly damaged by dark magic. It was hard work and Hermione was thankful they were at least sheltered from the sun's rays. As the morning wore on and the air got hotter; Bill, Seamus, Terry and Draco all disposed of their sweat soaked tops; earning approved looks from Pavarti as she admired their toned physiques. Hermione wished she could do the same and even rolled up her sleeves at one point, forgetting about her exposed scar. It was only when she caught Draco looking that she realised her mistake and quickly yanked them back down.
"Sorry," he mumbled quietly, turning his attention back to chopping a damaged trunk; throwing the logs into a wheelbarrow to be used for the castle fireplaces come winter.
A few weeks into their return to the school; Draco had approached Hermione one evening as she sat in her favourite armchair in the Gryffindor common room, reading. Minerva had disabled all protective spells on the four common rooms so anyone could go in and out. He settled himself onto the sofa opposite and told her everything; from his reasons to becoming a Death Eater to apologising for past mistakes. Hermione had stayed silent throughout; letting him talk without interruption. Despite all he had done in the past; Hermione could tell that he meant every word of his apology and she easily forgave him – a task which took Harry and Ron much longer to do.
Wiping away sweat from her forehead with her arm; Hermione grabbed a bottle of water and settled down at the base of a tree, chugging back the bottle and letting the cold water trickle down her throat. She absentmindedly ran a hand back and forth across the forest floor as she watched the others working, feeling twigs and leaves and moss. Her fingers rested upon a small, hard object that felt out of place on the otherwise soft floor. Hermione set down her water bottle and picked up the stone, turning it over in her grubby hands. The stone was small and square, with a pointy tip. Etched upon it's surface was a triangle, a circle and a line – Hermione recognised it almost immediately; the resurrection stone. Harry had recounted the story about what happened when he entered the forest to her and Ron; including the four figures that appeared to him. Harry also stated that he'd purposefully dropped the stone, hoping it would get lost in the undergrowth. But here it was, sitting in the palm of Hermione's hand mere months later. Pocketing the Hallow; she quickly resumed her tasks.
That evening, after dinner and another shower, Hermione found George on the Astronomy Tower. She knew he came here almost every night, to watch the sunset and speak to Fred. She came to a stop next to him, placing her arms on the railings and looking out over the lake and the mountains. George turned his head and offered a small smile to his companion, before looking back at the magnificent view.
"How are you?" Hermione asked, shifting position so she was facing the redhead.
George let out a sigh before replying, "I'm as good as can be expected."
Hermione's heart ached for her friend and she reached out to place a hand over his. She kept it there for a moment; before retracting it and retrieving the object from her pocket.
"I found something today," she said, nonchalantly. "I thought you might find it useful." She held out her palm to George, who looked at the object with confusion. Hermione offered no insight before realisation suddenly washed over his despondent features.
"I know it's not the same," Hermione said quietly, as George reached out to take the stone. "But I figured it would give you a chance to say goodbye."
She didn't wait for a reply, instead, Hermione turned and walked away from him; leaving George alone once more. He had confided in her at Fred's funeral that he wished he at least had the chance to say goodbye to his other half.
George stared at Hermione's retreating form as she ambled down the stairs and out of sight. Enclosing the stone with his fist; George contemplated throwing it out into the lake below, but there was a little voice in the back of his mind that said he shouldn't. Taking a deep breath; George closed his eyes and turned the stone thrice in hand. A shiver ran down his spine and, as he exhaled, he opened his eyes.
Standing in front of him was the wispy figure of his twin; dressed in a pair of jeans and a comfy jumper. He was smiling at his brother, his eyes twinkling despite their monotone appearance.
A lump caught in George's throat and he bounded forward, arms outstretched as if to embrace his companion. He stopped suddenly and let the smile fall from his face; realising his momentary lapse in judgment.
"You look even paler than I do," Fred joked, smirking. "And I'm dead!"
George couldn't help but chuckle as a tear fell from his brown eye. "I've missed you."
"I know," Fred replied. "I hear you talking to me all the time. It's a bit annoying actually!"
George laughed out loud for the first time since his brother's passing. "You haven't changed a bit," he said, as more tears spilled over despite his smirking face.
"Now why would I do that? I was already perfect," came his reply. The two brothers looked at each other for moment, George wiping away his tears on the sleeve of his top.
"Don't cry for me Georgie," Fred said affectionately. "I'm having a great time. Sirius has been telling me all about the pranks they carried out whilst at school and I'm currently plotting with Remus to get James back. I swear; I feel like the fourth Marauder!"
George smiled as his brother went into detail about the payback they were planning against James.
"How have you been?" Fred asked once he was finished, his eyes swimming with sudden concern for his twin.
"I've been fine – " George began, but Fred cut him off.
"You don't need to lie to me," he said kindly. "I've been watching."
"It's just – it's hard," George said, fighting back more tears. "I feel utterly lost without you."
"I get it," Fred said, stepping forward and placing a transparent hand on his brother's shoulder. "I do, I miss you too. But you've got to start moving forward. I know that's not what you want to hear, but moping around all day isn't doing you any favours."
George snapped his head up and asked, "You know about the shop?"
Fred looked sympathetic towards his brother. "Of course I know, I see everything, remember."
"I'm sorry – " George began.
"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes has been closed for long enough, don't you think?"
George nodded in reply, pulling a tissue from his pocket and blowing his nose.
"We don't have much time," Fred said solemnly.
George reached out a hand again, placing it on top of his brother's. He couldn't feel anything except a slight cold patch beneath his palm that told him Fred was there.
"I love you," George said, looking up to his brother. "I'm sorry I never got to say goodbye."
"It's not your fault I left so soon," Fred said, sadness clouding his colourless eyes. "I love you too little bro."
He watched as Fred slowly paled before disappearing completely, leaving George alone.
Hermione was sat by the empty fireplace; her unopened book forgotten in her lap. She hoped she had made the right decision in giving George the resurrection stone. She just wanted to see him smile again.
George came through the open portrait hole and Hermione snapped her head round to look at him. She got to her feet and noticed his eyes were red as though he'd been crying.
"George – " Hermione began to explain as he approached, wanting to apologise; but she was cut off as he silenced her with his soft lips. He gently held her face with his hand as the other snaked itself around her waist. Hermione; momentarily stunned at what was happening, soon relaxed into his embrace and kissed him back.
George slid his tongue along her lips as they deepened the kiss, with Hermione wrapping her hands around his neck and tangling her hands in his messy, red hair. He tenderly caressed her smooth skin with his thumb, as Hermione felt electricity soar throughout her body at his touch.
They stayed like that for a while; time meaning nothing to them as they tasted one another. Finally, George softened the kiss and pulled back, smiling down at the witch.
"Thank you," he said sincerely, before reclaiming her mouth once again.