A/N: I don't think this story needs much of an introduction. It's a short little ficlet that got into my head because I'm attempting to stay awake all night to see the sun rise and I am in a very angsty mood. I felt the need to have some moody/contemplative ramblings. I apologize for the bit of repetitiveness.
Summary: Hermione watches the sun rise and thinks a little about the war.
Daybreak
By Ariannaid
It wasn't abnormal for Hermione Granger to be awake this early. What was abnormal about the situation was that she was sitting on a windowsill in the astronomy tower, legs dangling over the edge, watching the sun rise.
Sunrise, inspiration for many romantic and hope-filled works.
But Hermione wasn't watching out of any misguided romantic sense. She wasn't much of a romantic by any means. But she did enjoy the blend of soft colors that signaled the coming day. She did enjoy the slight sense of peace that came from the near-silence of a world just beginning to 'wake up'. The worries and constant stress of the day were still hidden in the vast depths of her mind. For once, she could just be at peace.
The war was not going well at all. More people died everyday-the innocent along with the guilty, the actual participants of the war along with the ignorant, friend along with foe. The casualties were higher than any could have imagined. And they were thwarted at early every turn by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Oh, they had a few small victories, Hermione acknowledged in a distant way, the peace she was feeling still uninterrupted, though she was again thinking of the war.
Things were much more complicated than they had been in her first year. And here she was, graduated, yet still at Hogwarts, still fighting. And she was beginning to think that this war would never end. That the death toll would continue to rise until all were dead.
This was only in moments of weakness however, when her sense of melodrama overwhelmed her inherent good sense. Realistically, she knew that someone had to win. The war simply couldn't go on forever.
The grey area between the black and white had grown since this had started. Hermione no longer had a clear view of right and wrong. The things she had seen, had done, had warped all her previous beliefs.
Nothing could ever be the same again.
Nobody would come out of this unscathed, not by a long shot.
And yet, they couldn't stop fighting. They couldn't give up. If they could no longer fight for themselves, they could fight for those yet to be born. They could fight for the hope of a better future.
With a small, bitter, smile, Hermione climbed down from her perch and walked down the flights of stairs and into the Great Hall, where a scattering of heavy-eyed students, alumni, and teachers had already started to eat breakfast. It was a new day. The fight would begin anew; continue from where they had left off.
They would continue to fight. And they would win.
After all, there was nothing else they could do.