"I just wanted to say goodbye…and I couldn't even do it." Her voice is a tiny whisper, almost lost in the night. She's not standing anymore; her legs couldn't hold her once the two of you left the company of the other students and staff. You're honored, because you know that she won't break down like this in front of anyone else. Even to Ron and Harry, she always stays strong - or, at least, strong on the outside. "They left, and they came back, and then it was too late."
You want to roll your eyes, for just a moment, but you can't. Hermione isn't just some girl; she's one of your best friends, and is the only girl who you've really been able to stand. She isn't like all the others, and because of that, you can't treat her like them.
So instead, you kneel beside her and you take her hand. After you squeeze it, you feel her grip tighten in response. The next thing you know, you're sitting down on the ground beside her and you're holding her to your chest. Her tears are soaking your shirt, right in that crease between your neck and your shoulder, but for once you don't think that it feels weird. It feels natural, because this is what your friends should do when a tragedy of this magnitude happens. Things shouldn't be hidden.
After what seems like hours, she stops. She looks up at you, and all you can do is say, "I'm sorry."
She nods and rests her cheek against your chest. "Me too. None of us were expecting this…"
You nod too, and rest your chin against the top of her head. "No, we weren't. But we have to go on to make sure Dumbledore didn't die in vain. We've got to take down You-Know-Who, and we have to make sure Harry knows he's not alone."
"Do I have a choice?" She gives a shaky smile, and you understand that she, more than you, is invested in this. You could lose her in this war, and you're not okay with that.
"Not really, no." It hurts you to say those words. "None of us do."
And that's true. If you're not supporting Voldemort, you're against him. And if you're against him, you're as good as dead.
You know that none of you really have a choice about what to do in this war, but a part of you aches already, because you have a feeling that one of the two of you won't make it out alive - and you know which one of you that will be.
