Hermione blinked rapidly, the sun streaming in through her window was bright shining into her sleep dulled eyes

Hermione blinked rapidly, the sun streaming in through her window was bright shining into her sleep dulled eyes. Suddenly she realized the reason that she'd bolted up so quickly and with a moan buried her head in her pillow as her hand shot out to silence the loud buzzing Muggle alarm clock. Instead she hit a smaller switch and the local radio station blared to life playing the Beatles song, "Good morning, Good morning". Scrambling for the cord she muttered under hear breath and then launched little radio across the room to smash satisfyingly against the wall. The noise did in fact stop, but now she would have to replace the foul thing.

From what she'd seen of the clock before its unfortunate demise it was early, only eight o'clock and it was a Tuesday. She didn't work on Tuesdays. Rolling back over she hoped to somehow get back to sleep, just five more minutes would do her good. She closed her eyes just to bolt back up with them wide open. Now she remembered the reason that the stupid thing had gone off in the first place, it was July 31st.

Quickly she jumped out of bed and stretched languidly. Then she idly made her bed. Humming softly to herself Hermione walked over to her wardrobe and began to pick out what she would need for the day. The song in her head made her feel more like herself than she had in years. The words brought back memories from before, memories from her childhood, memories of her favorite Great-grandfather, Pap.

"Oh! How I hate to get up in the morning,
Oh! How I'd love to stay in bed;
some day I'm going to kill the bugler,
so I can spend the rest of my life in bed."

She could hear his old voice sing it lightly, cheerfully. It was just a few lines of an older song, she knew now, but that was how Pap always sang it. She went about her morning routine, showering and moving about the kitchen, trying not to wake her parents. An hour after her alarm went off so rudely and interrupted her sleep; Hermione was dressed and ready to go. Leaving a message on the counter, she headed out to meet Ron.

--

The humid air made Hermione glad that she'd chosen to wear muggle clothing to her brunch date with Ron. The knee length black skirt and long-sleeved black top were still much cooler than the stifling, heavy robes that she wore in the Wizarding world. As she walked along the dusty road through the town she remembered the great battle that had taken place there. She remembered all of the friends lost that day. More than anything she remembered him.

Blinking through her tears Hermione realized that she'd come to the gate. Ron walked up looking sober in his own long black shirt and khakis. He was always the first one to arrive for their little outing. Standing there, she gazed at the little cottage that used to be Harry's home.

"Hey." Ron said for lack of anything else.

"Hey." She answered clutching a little bouquet of lilies.

Knowing that he wasn't going to get much more out of her Ron sighed, "Shall we?"

Hermione nodded. Quietly they made the short walk from the house to the cemetery. Ron pushed open the shiny iron gate that had been installed to keep out tourists. Hermione laid a lily on each of the grave markers for Harry's parents and moved to the newer stone beside them. The old bunch of lilies, withered and tattered with age, she tossed aside. The new ones went in their place.

Only then could she bring herself to read the epitaph, the one that always made her cry.

Here Lies Harry James Potter

Beloved Son and Friend

The Boy Who Lived and Died

It was there on the simple white marble headstone. It was there like that was all that could be said of him, like that was all his life could be boiled down to.

--

Half an hour later they had finished paying their respects and were being seated at a muggle restaurant that served breakfast all day. They had the same breakfast every year, his favorite, a simple plate of bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast with marmalade washed down with a glass of fresh orange juice.

When Hermione had finished her toast, Ron cleared his throat. The meal had been silent up until then so she looked surprised to hear him begin, "Hermione, I think that we need to talk."

"Talk? About what?" she asked perplexedly, folding up her napkin and brushing the crumbs from her hands.

"You." He said simply.

"Me?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Yes you." He sighed, "It's been five years Hermione."

"I know how long it's been Ron." She replied quietly.

"I know that you miss him, I still miss him too. Blimey, he was my best mate too." He paused there waiting for a reaction then continued, "But that hasn't stopped me from having a life of my own. Do you remember what he said to us? He said, 'Don't forget to live, laugh, and love.'"

"I remember." She responded softly, "And I do have a life Ronald."

"If you can call that part-time librarian post, living with your parents, and once a year outings to a cemetery a life." He replied getting frustrated, "You don't talk to any of our friends anymore, you barely leave the house, and you don't use magic. He gave up everything just so we could go on and have normal lives. Here you are doing the opposite of what he would've wanted."

"Why…!" Hermione began, outraged.

"No, don't argue this time, not today Hermione." Ron commanded a tear forming as he got some muggle money out of his wallet and put it on the table, "Just think about what I said."

Hermione sat; stunned at the table watching him put his wallet away. Her mouth hung open as she tried to think of a reply. Before he walked away Ron looked back at her and whispered, "You're sad because you lost one friend. But I lost both of my best friends that night."

--

Hermione went home that day and cried. For the next week she pondered Ron's words and wrote a lot in her journal. Then she gave in and accepted that he was telling the truth.

--

Now, six months later, she was living with Ginny in an apartment in a Wizarding section of London and working on the Committee for Experimental Charms. Hermione threw herself into her new life, working hard and spending her free time at home reading, or out with Ron.

The job was a low level sort of position, but it was good enough. Hermione didn't really need to work after the ministry granted her a pension as a war hero and Harry left her a third of his sizeable fortune, but who wanted to sit at home all day? Ron had been granted the same and he now worked as an Auror.

Hermione began a new routine in her new life. Twice a week she and Ron would have lunch together if he wasn't on assignment. Saturday was movie night for them. Tuesday was shopping with Ginny. On Thursdays Hermione took a muggle yoga class and on Sundays she had dinner with her parents.

Six months after Ron's little talk, Hermione started living again.