She looked at him now with eyes that were cold and mirthless; the eyes of a killer. How different her eyes used to be. He would look at them and feel warmth and comfort and understanding. He searched them for those qualities, but they were long gone and it was all his fault.
He had needed a mole inside of the Death Eater's headquarters. Snape had been discovered as a spy, and was consequently killed by Voldemort himself. It had been difficult, but he knew he needed to ask the one person it would kill him most to ask. Harry had had to ask Hermione.
"Hermione, please do this. I know it's a lot to ask of you, and I won't force you, but you're the best person," said Harry desperately.
"Harry, I…I cannot be with Malfoy. Besides, I am a muggleborn, he would never…"
"If you pretended to switch sides, you would be the prize of all Death Eaters. All you would have to do is choose Malfoy. You're clever and quick-witted, Hermione, and your occulmency is perfect. No other girl I know can handle this, Hermione, it needs to be you. All you need to do is choose Malfoy."
But she hadn't gotten a choice. Harry had been right, every Death Eater was willing to take her as his after she proved herself by killing Neville Longbottom, but none were to have her. No, she belonged to Voldemort from then on. Unable to invade her mind, he had tortured her for days to test her loyalty. She had to kill many of her old friends such as Thomas Dean and Parvati Patil to show she was truly dark. She even had to not only kill, but torture Arthur Weasley. Hermione never broke, never once let on that she was a spy. She communicated with Harry through the same sort looking glasses he and Sirius had once possessed.
She was soon in on the plans and strategies of the Dark Side, and was able to tell Harry everything. But she had to pay a terrible price, she had to become cold and emotionless. Good down deep, yes, but she lost all feelings of joy, and all ability to smile and her eyes slowly lost their sparkle.
Harry had defeated Voldemort at last, and many of the Death Eaters were dead along with their master. Hermione now stood once again in the Burrow, where so many happy memories dwelled, yet she couldn't sense it. It was just a place she remembered now.
"Hermione, please say something," implored Harry.
"Very nice job," she said, her countenance still set in stone.
"I'm so sorry, Hermione. I…" words seemed to be lost, "please smile, Hermione, please laugh and hug me and congratulate me and celebrate with everyone else. Lecture me on how I should really be studying for my auror's test instead of walking about or nag me to brush my hair. Teach me how to do something the proper way or…just smile."
But Hermione didn't smile. Instead she just shook her head and began to cry. Her light tears turned into sobs and she threw her arms around Harry and sobbed into his shoulder. She cried for Neville and Thomas and Parvati and Mr. Weasley. She cried for everyone who had lost a friend or family member in the wretched war. She cried for all of those hours she had been under the Cruciatus and all those nights Voldemort had claimed her. She cried for all of the times she had needed to cry, but had held it back to appear strong. And now it was all flowing out of her.
After a few minutes her sobs turned to watery hiccups and she took a step back from Harry. He waited nervously to see what she would do. At last she used muscles that were weak from lack of use and she smiled. She smiled with all the energy and happiness she possessed. She threw her arms around Harry once more but this time embraced him with all of her might.
He looked into her eyes again.
"There you are," he said, beaming.
"I recall that you have a test to study for, Harry," she said with a sly smile, "oh yes, and, congratulations, Harry."
"Good to have you back, Hermione, good to have you back."
A/N: I know, very fluffy and a probably-wouldn't-happen-in-this-situation ending. But I'm a sucker for happy endings, so deal with it.
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