When Harry found Hermione, it was on a forlorn park bench that had begun to surrender itself to the surrounding forest. With her bushy, brown hair buried safe within the confines of a book, Hermione looked perfectly inconspicuous, as if – just like Harry – she was seeking solace in the invisibility the Muggle world had once provided.
As he approached, Hermione glanced up and gave him a familiar searching look, as though his face were as easy to read as a page from Hogwarts: A History. Harry settled himself beside her, barely blinking as she wordlessly took his hand in her own and interlocked their fingers. They had grown accustomed to this kind of easy comfort after the war, an anchor in the midst of revolution.
'I heard from Ron–' he started, but Hermione noticed his discomfort almost immediately.
'–It's okay. People change. We just didn't want the same things we wanted at seventeen. If anything, it's made me realize that there are more important things to spend your life fighting about.'
Words felt hollow in Harry's mouth so he gave her hand a quick squeeze. 'Like taking on the Ministry?' he asked, only it felt more like a battle cry.
Hermione nodded, letting out a gentle sigh. 'Yet another war, Harry.'
Harry was a soldier, a product of conflict, but now that the war was over, he didn't know how to be anything else. Hermione understood this better than anyone. She knew how it felt to have a war fought over your body; knew how it felt to be condemned for the very blood coursing through your veins; knew how it could change you, irrevocably.
'They're all for a reason,' he placated. 'Maybe this time, you can still fight for some of the things you wanted when you were seventeen.'
With that, Harry reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a long-forgotten S.P.E.W badge, placing it in Hermione's open palm. Her face broke into a warm, uninhibited smile but Harry's eyes lingered on her hand, noticing the scars, remembering who had given them to her.
'I've tried everything,' said Hermione with characteristic exasperation, as she pulled her sleeve down past her knuckles. 'They just won't go away.'
'The pain will though,' and Harry brushed his hair aside to reveal the lightning bolt on his forehead. 'In time.'