Dennis sat on the stairs by the Great Hall, remembering how he had found Hermione Granger at the same spot three years ago. He was an eager second year, and he found the Gryffindor witch incredibly pretty. Even now, three years later, he still saw her as the fourth year who helped him with his studies. She was pretty even before the Yule Ball, even though most of the boys her age had never noticed it until then.

But that wasn't the reason he was sitting on these steps, keeping a blank facade. Because if he showed any emotion, he was afraid he would burst into tears. He still had a hard time grasping it. His brother was dead. The same brother who taught him photography and maths. The same brother he had always looked up to. The same brother who he relied on after their mother died a year ago. That seemed so long ago. They had gone to a relative's house in Ireland, seeking refuge from Voldemort. As muggle-borns, they both were at risk. Colin, Colin was his best friend. And now he was dead. Oh god, he watched his brother die. He watched him die at the hand of Lucius Malfoy, and now all he wanted to do was watch the life drain out of him, just as he had done to Colin. He wanted to watch his family suffer at the death of the elder Malfoy, just as he knew his family would as soon as they got the news of Colin's death. He put his head in his hands. Karma is a bitch, Hermione had once told him, but everyone gets what's coming for them Dennis. Trust me. He had been halfway through his third year, when she had talked him down from the astronomy tower railing. There's more than life than hate. There is love, and happiness, no matter how hard it may be to find. You can't end your life, Dennis. There is so much you have left to accomplish. Please, if you ever even think about doing that again, come to me. Please, Dennis. I will be there for you.

He had taken her up on her offer only once after that, somehow she always seemed to have patience for him, regardless of the age difference. He closed his eyes and sighed. What was he going to do?

"Dennis?" A soft voice said in front of him. He looked up through his fingers and gave a sad little smile. Hermione was standing in front of him, twiddling her fingers and biting her lip. He hated when she did that. It made him want to be the one biting her lip. She sat down on his left, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you- are you alright?"

"No, Hermione," her name rolled off his tongue, suddenly she wished he said it more, "I'm not 'alright'." He took a deep breath. "My brother just-" He exhaled, "he just died, for fucks sake." He turned toward her suddenly, whispering, "Colin is dead. Oh God, he's dead." He raised a hand to his mouth, tears coming to his eyes, and she pulled him into a hug. She had only ever hugged him once before, after he attempted to jump from the astronomy tower. She felt her shirt getting wet as he cried on her shoulder, and she almost cried too. Because Ron and the twins were dead. She would never get to berate Ron for putting his foot in his mouth. She would never get to be the victim of one of Fred and George's pranks. Because they were dead. She rested her head on his, closing her head. She needed this. Someone she could lean on. Someone who wouldn't praise her for her role in bringing down the force of Voldemort. Someone who wouldn't call her a mudblood one moment and a savior the next. She closed her eyes, relishing in the feel of his body against hers, even at the awkward angle they were in. She hated to admit that before she closed her eyes at night, the last thing that entered her mind was him. That she worried about Dennis this past year almost as much as she worried about Harry. She breathed in a heavy breath and beneath the scent of dirt and tears, she could still smell him. Pine, vanilla, and the roses planted outside her parents house. She felt him move, and she tightened her grip a little. But, he pulled away, tear tracked face and all.

"I- I'm sorry. I got your shirt wet and-"

"It's fine, Dennis. Nothing a simple scourgify won't fix. All I care about is you." she gently wiped away the stray tears with the pad of her finger. When he still had his heated stare fixed on him, she stopped for a moment. "Talk to me Dennis."

Suddenly Dennis' hands were on her face and he was kissing her. She put her hand on his cheek, the other on his hip. She pulled back and barely noticed the hurt look on his face.

"Dennis, You're only doing this, kissing me, because you're emotional. I don't want you to do something you will regret."

"Damn it woman. I've been wanting to do that for a year! You drive me insane! You make me want to live Hermione! Oh god, how can you not see that? Do you need me to go on and on about how you're the first and last thing I think about? About how much I lo-" he was broken off as he was suddenly being pushed to the ground and snogged.

"Say it, Dennis." She broke off and whispered to him, her face only an inch away.

"I love you, Hermione Granger." She kissed him again, only pulling away again to whisper.

"And I love you, Dennis. More than ever."

And, as they say, they lived Happily Ever After.