A/N: Just writing a few one shots to get the juices flowing, hope y'all enjoy!
It was one of the first days of spring and Hermione sat on the edge of the lake, transfixed by the way the light glimmered and gleamed atop the water. It had been a long, difficult year and many people she loved had been lost in these very halls yet still she remained, unsure of her next step. The tree she was beneath rustled in the breeze, tendrils from the willow slapping and caressing her in turn as she thought.
Many a thing had changed and Hogwarts was no longer the safe haven it had once been to her, but with no family to go back to she had few options and felt set adrift, cursed to flounder near the shore alone. Both Harry and Ron had the distinct talent of blocking out things they no longer wished to remember and were currently at the Burrow, though personally she couldn't go there without recalling a certain face she knew she would never see again.
Tears flowed freely now as she thought of the final battle, the free flowing curses and screams that had surrounded her and the end, the moment when they'd won and relief and joy had swept through the crowd, only to be shattered by the heavy losses they had sustained. She remembered the scene all too clearly.
There was Remus and Tonks, lying next to one another on the floor, eyes closed. They would never move again. Colin Creevy, one of the many who had passed away far too young during the course of the struggle. Lavender Brown, she hadn't been able to tell whether the poor girl was alive she had been mauled so thoroughly.
Through all the carnage, she retained a steely veneer, refusing to let the people who sacrificed have done so in vain.
She saw a mass of tell-tale red hair surrounding a certain bed and she flinched, preparing herself to see someone she loved in pain.
As she drew nearer, she realized the wailing was Mrs Weasley and her heart stopped.
She took in the bowed heads and the sounds of sobbing.
She saw George crumple to the floor and that's when she began to run.
Breathless, she gazed down at the boy in the bed, the one who would look only as though he were sleeping if it weren't for the blood.
A sob wrenched its way from her throat and George had pulled her down to him, clinging to her fiercely.
He told her he had known.
She had cried harder.
The memory faded and all she was left with was blurry eyes and tear stained cheeks but she smiled and embraced her pain.
It was all she had left of him, after all.