The morning after the great Battle of Hogwarts, the sun rose and mist swallowed the solemn early first grounds, wreckage and remains of the once great school. Scarcely a noise could be heard around the castle and the grass and forest seemed to listen, the petite figure huddled on the stone steps that once led to a beautiful courtyard hoped that it was dew that gave the grass that sheen and not blood from the fierce battle won the day before.

The witch in question sat knees to chest with her arms wrapped around her legs. Still in her dirty, ripped, and bloody clothes from the day before and the only clean spots on her face were where tears had flown freely many times the day before and were threatening again. It would not be the first time since the sun had started to rise over the area that she had called home for six of the most defining years of her young life.

Hermione Granger, one third of the supposedly "Golden Trio", finally sat still for the first time in what felt almost like years to the 19 year old to watch the sun rise over a still standing and free Hogwarts. For the first time since her first year she felt safe. Hermione was no fool. She knew that not all of the Death Eaters had died or been captured in the horrific battle and its bloodier aftermath. She also knew that just because the side of the light had once again won that blood purists wouldn't change their opinion about muggleborns overnight but she knew that finally the leader and biggest zealot, Tom Marvolo Riddle or Lord Voldemort was no more the figure head and leader of the dark. He was finally, actually dead.

While this was quite a large victory, as Hermione sat holding herself and ruminating, she wondered if the gains had been worth all that her beloved wizarding world lost. She once again seemed to get lost in thought of the overwhelming events of the day before as she silently rose and began to walk towards the seemingly serene and calm black lake.
As she walked over the slick grass she could still see in exactly where friend and foe alike had either fallen in battle or been horrifically injured. She had worked through the night with a few other dedicated older members to help levitate and move the dead and injured to the hospital wing and the great hall which had turned into a disturbingly beautiful morgue. She had worked to and probably past the point of her own physical, mental, and magical exhaustion, but couldn't fight a gnawing and overwhelming feeling that despite all she did and all she had endured, that somehow she hadn't done enough. Yes, she had stood by Harry like an unwavering pillar of support after that whole messy troll business in their first year, through the chamber of secrets their second year and every other challenged that had faced him after that, Hermione had proven herself time and time again yet she always seemed to get overlooked as someone who had helped in a serious way int the war effort.

She had heard that she was called the brains of the "Golden Trio" and true she had supported Harry and Ron in school (Truthfully, she knew that without her help or homework to work off of Ron most certainly would have never made it through 2nd year and Harry would have definitely struggled.) She had stood by Harry no matter what was written or whispered about him and on the occasion that Ron would lose his head and abandon them both. She had pined after Ron for years despite his shallow and selfish nature but after abandoning Harry and herself while on the run, Hermione had forgiven Ron in a sense but had been made much more wary of allowing him in her heart. After that kiss they had sneaked in the heat of battle and knowing that he had gone back to Lavender when he had abandoned them on the run only to break the poor girl's heart all over again when he left her again and came back to join the horocrux hunt. She knew that all the future could hold for Ron and herself as best friends as a best case scenario and simply good friends as her most hopeful scenario. Hope is all she could have in this situation, hope that Ron would understand why there wasn't a romantic future for him, hope that her second family The Weasleys would not shut her out when this came to light and hope that her decision, while the best for her and Ron, would not destroy the friendship that she held most dear, Harry. If the scene she had seen in the Hospital wing after the final battle had told her anything it was that while Harry may not be bothered by her and Ron not being the destined pair that Molly had hoped. Hermione was sure this was because of the fact that once again when Harry needed him most, Ron had abandoned him yet again and this time it was during the literal heat of battle. She was glad Harry had matured on the run and would stand by her no matter what, even if Ron hadn't and probably wouldn't after the war. It was clear by the venom that laced the eyes of Molly Weasley when they had met Hermoine's in the hospital wing that despite Ron's clear choice to continuously choose Lavender (and today having saved her life) Molly was going to blame Hermione for her marital dreams for Ron being crushed. She only hoped that for once in his life Ron would stand up for her against his Mother and she hoped that the rest of the Weasley's would not be poisoned against her when Molly finally did decide to focus her wrath against Hermione She knew with the death of two sons, Molly would need someone to rage against and Hermione could only hope it would not be her.

She paused to consider all of she had seen and felt during the battle and how low and unwanted in Molly's eyes had briefly made her feel. Hermione then continued to slowly wander around the banks of the calm and desolate black lake with the dew glistening with an almost ironic newness on the grass. The blank look on her face did not betray the morose and rapid thoughts that clouded her brilliant and empathetic mind. The petite witch barely paused when she realized the mist that surrounded her physical body was a metaphor for what was happening in her mind. Hermione, who was the logical, level-headed and clear-thinking member of the trio of friends currently had never felt her mind more muddled or overwhelmed. She tried to focus on the ground in front of her but with every step she seemed to see another flashback of the cruel a friend falling in battle or another family shattered when a son or daughter, father or mother and in some especially tragic cases like young Teddy Lupin, his immediate family had been wiped out in 24 hours. With the thought of sweet Teddy and the scene of her dear friends Remus and Tonks laying side by side in the great hall, Hermione sat down on the damp ground and once again wept.

On the far side of the lake Hermione did not feel the need to try to silence her sobs, like she had done previously. She let go an almost inhuman scream as her whole body shook with her cries. She cried for Remus and Tonks, for Colin Creevey, for Professor Bumbridge, for Fred and Percy Weasley, for her beloved Professor Sinastra, for Mad-Eye Moody, and for all the others who had had their lives cut short. The one life that she couldn't forget seeing being cut too short in front of her was the man that Hermione considered the true hero of this war and deep down she knew that Harry would have been nowhere without Professor Severus Snape guiding him, protecting him, and suffering unimaginable stress and torture for over 20 years as a double agent.

Hermione had never doubted that Professor Snape had been on the side of the light, even after Harry regaled her with what had happened in the astronomy tower on the fateful night that Albus Dumbledore had died. She had never wavered in her faith that Severus had Dumbledore's man. She kept these opinions to herself at the time but also had a feeling it had been Severus that had provided critical clues and warnings while she, Harry, and Ron had been on the run. She briefly stopped herself and wondered when that had happened. When had he become Severus to her rather than Professor or Headmaster Snape? He had certainly never given the "insufferable know-it-all" permission to use his given name but she knew it had to do with the oddly protective and strong connection she had felt to the man that prior to 24 hours ago had been nothing more than a Potions Professor to her and if she truly wanted to be honest perhaps a school-girl crush at one point. Now thinking back to the night before, it was clear that he was now Severus to her and that he was now more than simply her Professor or headmaster, or at least she hoped that would be the case.

She remembered back to the horrifying moments when hidden under Harry's cloak with the boys in the shadows of the Shrieking Shack, Hermione had to physically bite her tongue from screaming out and running towards Severus as he faced down the maniac who had destroyed so many lives. She was positive by the tenseness that she saw in his hands and shoulders, what Severus thought were the final moments of his life. As Voldemort ordered his equally as evil snake to attack and kill Severus, Hermione could only watch and silently pray that there was some type of miracle that could prevent the snake from hitting its desired mark or that there would be some way that she could work to save Severus after she was sure the evil git had departed. She just knew if it was possible that she had to do something, anything to try and save the brave and noble man who despite all of his appearances of cruelty towards almost everyone was truly on the side of the light and had done so much to save so very many.