Chapter Thirty Six

A/N: Thank you to noellesullivan for reviewing the last chapter.

Hermione had seen a thousand thunderstorms growing up. She was at home with the lightning splitting the sky with its glow, comfortable with the thunder rumbling lowly across the hills. It had never been the storm that had frightened her; it had been the silence that followed.

The first wave of Death Eaters had fled, leaving those left standing to clear up the mess that had been created by the night's battle. Hermione had been one of those who had rooted through the rubble, clearing the courtyard as best she could. She had tried to ignore the bodies, but the faces seared themselves into her mind.

For every small sigh that escaped her lips, her mother's lament was thrice the strength. Hermione had passed many of these students- children, truly- in the corridors or seen them sat along the trestle tables in the Great Hall. Minerva had taught them, imparted her knowledge and watched them flourish as young witches and wizards. Of course the loss would be so much greater for her.

After a gruesome hour of hard labour, Minerva lowered herself onto what remained of the steps, exhaling deeply and brushing stray tendrils of hair from her forehead. Hermione watched out of the corner of her eyes, waiting until the woman's head had fallen before she sat beside her. Her mother had always been proud, quick to assure her child that she was safe and well even if that was not true. Now, she looked a second away from tears.

"Look at it." the professor sighed, running her eyes across the deserted courtyard. Smoke still rose from the rubble, thin tendrils like vines creeping up a garden trellis. It was too beautiful an image for the horrors that had occurred here. "Everything is gone."

"Not everything." Hermione argued weakly. She reached out her hand to rest on her mother's knee, waiting for Minerva to lace her fingers with her own. "The people are still here, still fighting. It'll take more than this to break us."

Professor McGonagall shook her head gently. She seemed so weak, so frail in that small gesture. Perhaps it was too late. Perhaps she was already broken.

"They were students here once." the woman whispered, her voice far-away. She was lost in her own memories. "I sat in classrooms beside them, shared food at feasts, cheered with them in the stands at Quidditch matches. How can so much have changed in so little time? They were just children… now they're killing children."

"You couldn't have known about them, Mum." Hermione reasoned. It was the truth. Monsters hid among the swarms of people walking every street, sat in every dining hall. Even Lord Voldemort himself had shocked those who knew him with the things he had done. "It's like you said, you were all children. You could never have anticipated this, no matter how well you knew them."

"But maybe I should have seen it coming, Hermione." Minerva murmured, her voice heavy with defeat as she looked out over the rubble. "Someone should have seen it coming."

"But it didn't have to be you." was Hermione's final protest, and there was a finality to her tone that made her mother smile. The girl had always had great expertise in ending an argument, whether she knew it or not.

They remained silent for a couple of minutes, listening to the wind rustling the trees in the distance. It was a comfort, to hear such a gentle sound. It meant the raging battles were behind them, for now. Sat here in peace, Minerva turned to her daughter, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Hermione, I am so very proud of you. No matter what happens, I want you to know that. And I could not have loved a daughter more in my life than I have loved you."

Hermione took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm the tears welling in her eyes, but they were already flowing. It was not the compliment that made her heart ache; it was the fact that her mother's words sounded so much like a goodbye.

"Mum, I love you to pieces." the young woman breathed, throwing her arms around the elder's neck. She clung to her mother for a minute longer, before she pulled away, holding her at arm's length and looking straight into her eyes. "But I'm not saying goodbye. Harry can do this, we can do this. The worst of the fighting is over, all we have to do is wait for Harry to finish the job."

Hermione's eyes were aglow with hope, so much so that Minerva could almost not bear to question her. But the doubts were too important to remain unspoken.

"Have you heard anything of Harry since he went to the Forbidden Forest?" The woman had to resist the urge to cross her fingers like a child. Hermione looked out into the distance for a moment, as if she thought the boy might come running across the bridge.

"Nothing." she answered reluctantly. It was a painful truth to have to tell. "But there could be a hundred reasons for that. He can hardly send an owl from the middle of a forest, and once he's found Voldemort, he won't leave until he's finished the job. We just have to wait a bit longer. We can't give up on him. He'll come back soon."

"Of course, my dear. Of course he will." Minerva allowed, wrapping her arm around her daughter's shoulders. It was hardly a lie, when she wanted so much to believe it as well. She would give anything for this terrible ordeal to be over.

But the silence spreading across the grounds was louder than any wishes. It spoke of danger, of fear. And both of them knew as well as anyone that the battle they had endured the night before had been over far too quickly. There was another storm brewing on the horizon, and this one would be the tempest to end it all.

A/N: Bit short, sorry, but hope you enjoyed it anyway! Please review!