There had been many speculations about Hermione's disappearance in the newspapers. Everybody had thought that, since she was always the constant supporter and protector of the Boy-Who-Lived, she would stay by him to help him get his life on track.

Many had also wanted to show her their gratitude, remembering the moments she had stepped in during a duel to save a life, or for caring for their saviour.

Almost everyone now looked down at the attitude that the youngest of the Weasleys were showing. Ron had looked scoffed her disappearance as a preparation to a dramatic return to the Wizarding world. He was too busy claiming the credit he thought was due to him as best friend to the saviour. He had been sentenced to a year of community service for degrading Hermione publicly. Ginny had been careful after her brother's punishment and had tried to go for Harry subtly. She was caught slipping him a love potion, moments before he tried to take a sip during a public trial to clear Sirius' name. She was sentenced to lifetime imprisonment in Azkaban and her wand had been snapped.

The remaining Weasleys had showed their surprise at what their siblings had done. They were forever shamed but Harry had been willing to forgive them, saying that they were not involved.

Harry stood by the window in his office. He looked at all the bustling people below, not altogether seeing them but remembering his best friend. He wondered where she could be, why she had left in the first place.

Even as Minister of Magic, he had dedicated a team of Aurors to search for her but she was not to be found. Sighing, he turned from the window just as an owl screeched, heading for his office. Curious, he sat himself down and waited for the owl to offer its leg to him.

Recognizing Hermione's handwriting at the back of the letter, he eagerly tore the letter open. Reading quickly, he returned to the top and read it again, not believing what he was seeing.

He quickly ran out of the office. "Harry, where are you going?" Kingsley shouted at him as he turned to follow the young Minister.

"Hermione," was Harry's reply

Kingsley had just managed to get a hold of Harry when he apparated. They appeared at the edge of a forest clearing, where a tent was erected right in the middle of it. Harry did not hesitate and ran for the tent. Kingsley followed at a much slower pace.

Once he entered the tent himself, he saw Harry kneeling beside a four poster bed. A house elf was standing by the other side, its head bowed.

Harry couldn't believe his eyes as he entered the tent. There was Hermione, lying on a four poster bed, her eyes closed and her expression so peaceful that he almost thought she was sleeping. Walking slowly to her side in disbelief, taking her in, he noticed that she wasn't breathing, and that was when everything came crashing down on him and he knelt by her bed.

She couldn't be dead, not her. What did she do to deserve this? She had done nothing wrong. How could his sweet, brilliant Hermione be dead? It all seemed a cruel joke.

He took out the letter she had sent him. He read it again slowly as he held her hand.

Dear Harry,

If you're reading this then that means I'm dead. I'm sorry for having left you the way I did. How are you these days? And Ginny? I hope you're both having a grand time. Maybe there's a baby crying somewhere in your home as you're reading this, or children running about outside.

You're probably happy. At least, I hope you are or else everything would have been futile. Don't mind me. I just had to write this letter, in a bout of selfishness. Somehow, I wanted to let you know, but I was too afraid to do so every time I looked around me. For how could I even begin to tell you when, knowing who you'll choose, that it would break my heart. And that if I did, I would destroy your only chance of happiness.

So when you come to see me off, can you at least tell me you're okay, that you're happy and contented? I'm sure I'll be able to hear it and then I can finally know that all I've done was worth it.

I'm getting off track, aren't I? Well, the truth is, Harry, ever since I knew you during our first year, I've been hopelessly in love with my best friend. He was brilliant and compassionate. He was always the gentleman and hero that everyone looked up to, but no one even bothered to know up close. Sound familiar to you?

I'm cruel, right? I couldn't tell you, because, once I did, you wouldn't know how to act around me. I didn't want your pity. I didn't want you troubled. I couldn't lose the ease of friendship we had.

And now I'm wasting away. I'm such a weakling. I wanted to be strong for you, Harry, to be happy when you are and cheer you up when you're sad. I wanted to guide you through troubled times, and keep you grounded. But I guess I'm not as strong as I thought. I couldn't handle the heartbreak I felt knowing that, at the end of the war, you would be in someone else's arms.

I'm blabbering again, huh? I'm sorry again, for abandoning you, for not explaining the things that you might have found difficult to understand on your own. Thank you for that moment, when we hiding and you danced and laughed with me. Those would be my most precious memories. I guess the only thing I wanted to say, after all that I've written, is that I love you, Harry James Potter.

But if loving you is a sin, it would be a sin that I would always be happy to commit. I have no regrets. Give me a hug, Harry, just like old times. Will you dance with me one last time? I guess not.

I'll be in the Forest of Dean. Can you handle the funeral and take care of Winky for me? Keep smiling, always, and I promise I'll smile down from heaven when you do.

With all my love,

Hermione