To Hermione, he was no longer an enemy. He wasn't the heartless fool she always thought he was, for standing in front of her, at the water's edge, was nothing more than a pure human being. She stared at his lean back with pain flickering in her eyes, unsure if she should approach him or not. The rain was coming down hard now, and despite the fact that she had the ability to charm the water from soaking her through to her bones, she didn't. She barely even felt the water dripping in her eyes, because she knew he was barely feeling it himself.
No longer wearing his robes, Hermione watched solemnly as his white sweater soaked through to his skin, thoroughly exposing the wide muscle expanse of his back. If it were any other time, at any other place, she might've swooned at this sight, because it just further proved that Draco Malfoy had become a man in between his sixth and seventh year.
She took long strides towards him, until she was parallel to his side, staring out onto the lake next to him. His hand came up and gripped her shoulder almost violently, as if she were the only thing holding him up from the dead weight of grief that was plaguing him. Her eyes turned to meet his and she nearly passed out at the anguish that lingered there, his once placid silver eyes swirling into a whirlwind of emotion. He bit his lip as she grabbed his free hand and held it tightly to her chest, closing her eyes and willing herself not to cry.
"It's over, Hermione," He said, almost bitterly, as lightening lit up the sky. She winced at the sound of her first name against his lips, for hearing it only proved to her that she was now bound to him in a way she never thought she would be - by being survivors.
"It's over," He said, softer this time, "I can't believe it's over…"
The rain slowed slightly and the smell of mildew dimmed, and they could smell death and blood in the air around them.
"Voldemort will never hurt us again," Hermione said, trying to keep his head straight. It wasn't working though, and that was proved when Draco literally sobbed into her shoulder.
She never, ever thought she'd ever see the day when Draco Malfoy would cry.
As his sobs deepened, though, she couldn't help but feel the tears begin pouring down her own cheeks. Because, although Voldemort was destroyed, he also managed to destroy most of the wizarding world in the process… including most of Hermione and Draco's friends and family. Their fellow classmates were among the dead, along with their families and much of the beloved faculty.
Only a few survived this final death battle, and none of them included Harry Potter or Ron Weasley.
It killed her to even think it, but the truth was that Draco Malfoy was her only friend left in this world, and they were never really friends to begin with.
Her knees buckled when he pushed practically his whole weight on her, and they both went crashing down to the muddy grass. Hermione cradled him in her arms as she stared up at the clearing sky above. It must be an amazing sight to see, the both of them clinging to each other like there was no tomorrow, but in all honestly, there was no tomorrow for them… because they only had each other.
Around them, there was stirring as the injured began to get up and pick through the battle ground, looking for their loved ones.
But back at the shore of the lake, Hermione was still clinging to a sobbing Draco, willing herself to stop crying.
She had to be the strong one, now, and she knew it.