The moments after the war were some of the moments Hermione remembered with clear precision. For instance she could recall glaring at the Malfoys, as they gazed furtively around the castle, knowing in their hearts they didn't deserve the break they got, and feeling oddly out of place for seeking shelter in the very same place their master sought to destroy. Hermione could recall with rigid clarity getting hardly a glimpse of Harry as he sauntered off, exhausted and overwhelmed, afraid to face Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys as they stared silently at the immobile figure of Fred Weasley, as if doing so would suddenly make him appear bright-eyed and jovial, and certainly not the rigid mass of arms and legs that lay before them, their only comfort being the ghost-like laugh etched into Fred's features. With the castle's rubble cast menacingly over the marble floors, and thick layers of dust spread over top of the staircases, Hermione stumbled as she made her way to a table, where Ron was sitting with his family, who were stony faced and glassed eyed, and kept casting nervous glances at George as if waiting for him to ease the tension with one of his jokes.

Hermione smiled ruefully at Ron, sitting down beside him, and feeling undeserving of the hand Mrs. Weasley placed on her shoulder, as she wobbled out an apology in a voice thick with tears. From beneath the table Ron clasped onto Hermione's hand so tightly she thought her fingers would go numb.

Around the Hall, the noise was boundless. There were tears streaming down every solemn face, and yet the distinct cat-calls of celebration could also be heard as students set off a round of Fillibuster Fireworks, and Peeves broke out in another chorus of "Voldy's gone moldy." There was the sharp clang of glass as Seamus Finnegan, whose face was badly bruised and was sporting a large cut across his shoulder, passed out bottles of butterbeer.

"Thank you, dear," Mrs. Weasley said in what Hermione thought was a brave voice. She dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her robe, and Seamus wordlessly handed over the rest of the bottles.

Mr. Weasley uncorked his bottle with a great deal of ferocity. "Ah," he said, and all eyes were upon him as he raised his glass. "To Fred," he said, and silently the others obliged by lifting their glasses and gulping down the liquid.

Ron still had a hold of Hermione's hand, and he kept a firm grip on it, even as he eyed Percy, who was puffing out his chest as tears fell none too proudly from his eyes, and whom Ron felt a little disdain simply because he had been the one to see Fred fall, and though Ron was glad to have Percy back in the family, Ron felt it was a little unfair that Fred had spent the last moments of his life laughing at a joke Percy had made, when Ron felt sure it was beyond Percy's ability to comprehend what the meaning of a joke actually was.

"Where's Harry?" Ron asked feebly, wondering why he wasn't seizing the opportunity to console a weeping Ginny, who was seated next to Mr. Weasley, and seemed unable to quell her discomfort even as she placed her head on her father's shoulder.

Hermione simply shook her head in response, feeling too weak for words. She glanced up at the enchanted ceiling, which displayed a murky sense of gloom as bolts of lightning flashed menacingly through the sky.

"Wanna go for a walk?"

Hermione couldn't help but think that this was an odd request, seeing as it was raining outside, but she did not argue, and silently she rose from the table, trying to extricate her figures from Ron's, but as he felt her hand slipping from his, Ron made a bold attempt to snatch it back, not caring as his mother's red-rimmed eyes flashed curiously toward him.

Hermione cast a sorrowful glance at George, placing her free hand on George's shoulder, who was slumping in his seat, his eyes cast downward toward the marble floors. His head instantly sprang up, and somehow Hermione was startled to see that his eyes were full of tears instead of their usual laughter. She had hoped she would think of something to say when George finally did meet her eye, but as Hermione caught yet another glimpse of Fred—still motionless upon the floor, she seemed to have lost her nerve.

"He died as he lived," said Percy suddenly, and there was a high-pitched quality to his voice as if his nose was pinched as he spoke. "He went out risking it all, laughing. That's exactly how he would have wanted to …go."

This seemed to bring George a momentary spell of relief, and he cracked the slightest semblance of smile, though Hermione and Ron were quick to note that the smile never truly reached his eyes.

Once outside, the rain pelted down on Ron and Hermione, instilling all of Ron's senses with the greatest feeling as well as filling him with an excruciating numbness. He simply could not accept that Fred was dead, and that never again would he laugh at one of Fred's jokes, or see his ever-present smile displayed so carelessly upon his freckled face….Ron took in gulps of air, as if the supply of oxygen he normally received was not quite enough now that Fred was dead. It was as if he was making up for the fact that Fred could no longer breathe….

"Ron," Hermione's voice was distant and full of concern. Ron had finally let go of her hand, and now that he had, Hermione was wishing he'd reach for her again. It had felt so good to know that he wanted her there. She had not felt alone, despite having no family to remark at her astounding good fortune that she had survived through this battle surprisingly unscathed.

Unlike Fred, who would never pierce the calm air with his thunderous laughter ever again.

"Ron, we should go inside," Hermione said, louder this time so that Ron would not be able to pretend not to have heard her. She was dripping with water and shaking with cold, as silently she reached for Ron's hand, which trembled as his fingers intertwined with hers.

"Harry could be looking for us."

This seemed to be exactly what Ron needed to hear. "I s'pose Percy's right, Fred went out the only way he could, laughing, even in the face of danger." Ron stopped for a moment , glancing at Hermione, who looked to be near tears once more.

"Do you think George'll be alright? And Mum and Dad?"

Hermione was startled at the question, and twice she opened her mouth just to close it again.

"They'll be alright in the end," said a voice from behind Ron, and turning he saw a war-beaten Harry, stumbling toward them. His hair was disheveled in a way that it gave Ron and Hermione a perfect view of his lightning bolt scar.

"Everyone will be alright in the end."

And silently, the three friends walked back up toward the school, besieged and crumbling, as above them the sky was clearing, light breaking through the thick blanket of clouds, a penetrating force battling the darkness.