Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters...if I did you'd be reading this in a paperback.
Hermione cast her eyes around the battle field and fought the urge to weep. It wasn't supposed to end like this. This was the Golden Trio's fight, not the innocent people who littered the field.
"Hermione, its over," a low, hoarse voice said quietly beside her, a voice that had helped her keep her sanity for the past year.
"No, it's not," she said softly, a single tear falling down her cheek unchecked. "It will never be over, Blaise," she whispered as she watched family members scanning the vast field where the battle had taken place.
She saw Ginny limping towards a fallen Charlie who had been brought from Romania with the Dragons, or what was left of the beasts after Voldemort slaughtered a Colony early in the war, while Mr. Weasley supported his wife as they called for the twins as well as Percy, Bill and Fleur. Lavender wandered aimlessly yelling her fathers name while the Patil twins leaned on each other for support as they wept over their mother and father, two of the first to fall when this waste of lives began early yesterday morning.
"There's so much death," she breathed, a hand going to her chest to fist the thin fabric of her shirt as she felt her heart threaten to break.
She heard Neville's Gran' screaming his name somewhere off to her right and closed her eyes as she remembered watching him stumble and fall after an all to familiar green light encased him, looking like a wide eyed first year as he was caught by surprise. Harry and Ron were standing on her other side, taking in the scene before them much as she was. Ron watched with dry eyes as his mother clutched Bill's body to her chest and wept and his father help Fleur to stand. He seemed to be in shock and only blinked when Ginny screamed his name and ran to him to engulf him in a hug. Harry watched them embrace and turned to Hermione, a sad look in his eyes.
"This war will never be over, will it 'Mione?" he asked quietly, his hand finding hers much as Blaise's had minutes before. "We've won but for what? So many have died, more than Death Eaters would have been able to finish off… how did this help the world?"
"I'm not sure, Harry, but the victory hardly seems worth it," she replied watching as Ron and Ginny made their way to their remaining family before turning her head to look at Blaise, who stood still as he too watched the family reunion. His parents, as well as hers, had been killed months ago during random Death Eater attacks and she knew he felt the same pang of selfish resentment at the sight of the embracing family members.
"Harry, HARRY?" the voice of Mrs. Weasley called frantically before the older woman caught sight of the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Kill-Voldemort, who was still standing motionlessly beside Hermione. "Oh you poor thing," Mrs. Weasley said after she'd made her way over to them, slightly out of breath, and pulled Harry to her holding him close and kissing his temple and forehead as she murmured unintelligible words that made perfect sense to only her. "Hermione?"
Hermione started at her name and turned her head slightly to look at Mrs. Weasley, who gasped and drew her into her embrace as well. The brunette hugged to woman back and turned her head to look over her shoulder at Blaise, who had stood beside her rather quietly after the final 'showdown'.
"Come along, we have to…" the Weasley Matriarch's voice hitched as she continued, "we have to help those that have been injured." Hermione didn't see the look the woman sent Harry and hers tattered clothing and bloodied arms and faces.
Hermione met Blaise's dark eyes and motioned for him to follow them, sending him a worried look when he favored his right leg and held his left arm gently with his right.
"There are others much worse than me, Hermione," he assured her as he came even to the trio before he was drawn into a tight Weasley embrace.
"Yes," she said quietly, sending a sad look across the battle field as Blaise extracted himself and let his bad arm swing freely to wrap his good one around her waist, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "the price of victory."