AN: I feel like I should apologize. I have been gone for a few weeks. With some things come up in home life it was hard to find as much time as I wanted to work on this chapter. But also because I have come to the realization that the middle section of this fic is just not up to snuff! There are some things I want to change and some sections I want to re-write completely to tell the story better for you all. So there may come times when the chapters are a little longer to come out, and I might not hid deadlines like I used to, BUT the story will be better for it. As annoying as it is, for the sake of the story, I really want to make sure I do it right. So I profusely apologize for leaving you all in a lurch. I assure you, this is not abandoned, I'm just taking some extra time to make sure it is worth it!

Thank you to my wife for editing this for me as always and being encouraging enough to help me post these. My friends from all over the world in the Harmony Discord server, I can't thank you enough for your support and help with my writing all the time.

I hope you enjoy the start of part 2!

PART TWO

Chapter 15: Guilt

"The worst guilt is to accept an unearned guilt." - Ayn Rand

Remus closed the door behind Harry and Hermione. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall next to the room. He had never seen Harry look so broken before. He had been present for so many of Harry's lowest moments, but this was quite possibly the worst. The level of pain on Harry's face was unparalleled in Remus's memory. Harry had tried so hard. He had done so much. He had saved so many lives tonight. Students, teachers, children, parents. But he hadn't saved all of them.

Remus heaved a shuddering breath. This was the last and hardest lesson that he knew the kids were going to have to learn about war, and it wasn't one he could teach. He had shared with them some of the worst things about the last war. About loss, and grief, and fear. But this was something that no amount of explanation was ever going to prepare Harry for. There were times when despite all your best efforts, the battle was going to be lost. Remus thought back to all the people that he had lost in the first war. Loved ones, family, friends. And yet he had survived.

Remus's worst nightmares were coming true in this war. Watching Harry fight the war that his parents had died to end, was slowly eating Remus up inside. It didn't seem fair to lose your best friends in a sacrifice to end a war and save their son, only to have the same war come back fifteen years later and try to take the last bit of that family that was left.

The bile rose in the back of his throat. He willed it back down, forcing himself to calm. Since the end of the first war, Remus had been paralyzed by the guilt of being the last one left. Why him? The Ministry labeled him a dark creature. He was shunned everywhere he went. Why, of the entire group, was he the one left alive? James and Lily would have changed the world. They were just those kinds of people. Sirius would have reformed house Black into something to be proud of. And yet here Remus Lupin stood, reviled by the magical community, and with no one left to turn to.

The panic rose again and he pressed it back, fighting to restrain the dark thoughts and swirling fears. He kept his face calm and features still. He forced his breathing to level and tried to clear his mind. Since he had been bitten, Remus had vowed to retain as much control as he possibly could - he battled the wolf constantly beneath the surface, and once a month, he would lose. Most thought him calm and unwavering, when in reality, he was anything but.

Footsteps sounded mournfully up the stairs. Arthur's blank eyes met Remus's war-torn stare and for a moment they both remained silent, Remus acknowledged the other man's pain - silent and respectfully.

Arthur's voice cracked when he finally spoke. "Would it be alright if we brought Ron here from the Burrow? I want my family all together right now," Arthur asked.

"Of course Arthur," Remus rasped, finding his voice again. "I'll sleep easier knowing that you are all here safe."

Remus led Arthur down the hall to a large empty bedroom.

"Thank you." Arthur made to leave the room to find Molly but hesitated. "Do you know what happened?"

His question hung in the air on marionette strings. "Tonks believes that Lucious Malfoy was taking advantage of the mental damage that she suffered while controlled by the diary. Her actions in all this weren't her own," Remus said slowly and carefully.

A tear leaked down Arthur's face. "Mental damage? I thought she was fine. If I had known it had hurt her, I could have done something… I could have helped her."

It wasn't phrased as a question. "Arthur, I don't kn-"

"Be honest with me Remus - could I have helped her?" His face twisted in grief.

Remus's voice wavered. "I honestly don't know. The diary turned out to be much more powerful than Albus expected. None of us realized it could have lasting effects."

Arthur's Adam's apple bobbed. "How," his voice failed. "How did she die?" he whispered.

Remus's eyes pinched shut. "Lucious had her dressed as a Death Eater. He made her attack Harry and Hermione while they were trying to get the students out of the Great Hall." Remus paused, not knowing how Arthur would react to the rest of the story. Not even knowing if Harry was safe being in the same house as the grieving father after he knew Harry had directly caused his daughter's death. But he had the right to know the truth.

"She fired the killing curse at Hermione and Harry blocked it with his sword. Then it rebounded back on Ginny."

Arthur's face crumbled. Remus didn't know what he could say to comfort the man at this moment. "I'm sure that if Harry ha-"

"I know."

Silence permeated the air for a minute more before Arthur nodded slowly. "Thank you for telling me," he said softly before he left the room. His footsteps echoing as mournfully as they had when he approached.

Tonks was feeling the lashes across her back start to fade into a dull throbbing pain. Allowing cuts and gashes to heal was particularly difficult for her. With her body constantly changing, keeping a strong will about her shape and appearance was key. For the skin to heal properly, even with potions, she needed to keep her appearance steady. As a child, this had been more difficult, but she had gotten better at it over time. Still ruddy difficult though.

She leaned back against the headboard of her bed. After spending some time with Pomfrey, she had finally gotten healed up enough to find a comfortable resting position. She felt the strong urge to sleep, to close her eyes and forget the things that had happened tonight. The beating. Seeing the fear on the student's faces. She reminded herself that even with the horror that had been Hogwarts this evening, it had been nothing compared to what Remus had faced at Godric's Hollow.

Tonks cared so much for the older man, but he refused to accept her feelings. He was trying to protect her from what he was, and she could respect that, but it was still her choice to be with him if she wanted. And he was what she wanted. With every passing day, she could swear she felt her feelings for him grow. If only he would stop stubbornly pushing her away! She was starting to feel the sting of rejection. A woman could only be rebuffed so many times.

She brushed the intrusive thoughts aside. Now was not the time to lament her personal life. The world had shifted under their feet tonight. Tonks turned her thoughts to her students. They had rescued as many as they could out of the castle before Voldemort had arrived. She hoped that the other students had been sent to their dorms because he didn't want to hurt the children of his followers. The ones that had been in danger, she had managed to protect until help had gotten there. In the few weeks of teaching, she had found herself strongly connected to the children that had graced her classroom.

A soft knock came at the door. "Come in," she said softly but clearly.

Remus walked into the room, his face drawn and tired.

"How are you feeling?" he asked blearily. Emotional and physical exhaustion seemed to be working into all of his features.

"I've been worse. I'm more worried about you," Tonks said softly. His pain was so clear on his face that she couldn't help but absorb some of it. Fear for her students clung to her heart for a moment. She hoped they were safe.

"What happened to Neville and Luna? Did they ever make it back to Grimmauld Place?" Tonks asked. She had grown quite fond of so many of the students in the past few months, especially Neville and Luna. Many times she had joined their study sessions in the library disguised as another student so they could discuss the news of the castle.

"Yes, McGonagall called on the mirror. She was able to get them all out of the joke shop before any of the Death Eaters made it to Hogsmeade. They're safe."

Tonks felt a giant weight inside her lift if even a tiny bit. She could still see the looks of fear and desperation on the students' faces as the Death Eaters had ripped her away from them. She scrunched her eyes shut from the images she was seeing in her mind's eye.

"Ms. Akela! Don't let them take me!" a young student, looking terrified and panicked, screamed for her help.

She blinked a few times and realized that a few tears had leaked out of the corners of her eyes. Even with the false name she had given the children at the start of the school year, it didn't lessen the impact.

"How are you doing?" She asked softly, moving her thoughts away from her own experiences.

"I don't know. Honestly, I don't." Remus sank down on the edge of her bed.

So many things had happened tonight: Godric's Hollow had been attacked, Hogwarts had been taken, and the Ministry was now controlled by Voldemort. No one person in the group had seen all the events take place. Thankfully, according to Mad-Eye, the Ministry coup wasn't as bloody as she thought it would be. A late evening on a holiday that was heavily celebrated in the magical community had made for a very empty building. Remus had seen the worst death toll of the night at Godric's Hollow. The bits and pieces of the evening that she had pieced together all collided in her thoughts.

"Have Molly and Arthur decided if they are going to bring Ron here?" Tonks understood their hesitation to be in the house with others while they were grieving. That didn't stop the Keep from being much safer for the rest of their family than they were at the Burrow.

"I think they are going to bring everyone here. This house is pretty big and it is their safest option at this point. As safe as we can make it, at least," Remus said sadly.

"Remus." Her breath caught. "I failed them."

"No," Remus said strongly, despite his exhaustion. "You will not take responsibility for something Lucius Malfoy did."

"I was there, and I couldn't save anyone. I was there to protect them and I failed at the only thing I was there to do. How am I supposed to take that? Ginny is dead because I didn't notice until it was too late!" Tonks felt the heat rise around the collar of the loose shirt that Madam Pomfrey had given her. This was the first chance she was getting to speak about and think back to what had happened tonight with someone.

"Dora...please, stop," Remus said in a kind hushed tone. "No one in this house is to blame for Ginny's death. Not at all. Not me, not you, not Harry, and not Hermione. Harry told me what happened. Malfoy is to blame for this and him alone."

"They didn't train us for this, you know," Tonks said, her eyes looking away. Her years at the academy had been spent learning how to properly file paperwork and process the minutia of day to day life in a small law enforcement office. Their numbers had been cut so low during the last few years that it was a miracle that Tonks had kept her job at all. She assumed that her ability to change appearance had something to do with her job security. But now...Tonks suddenly realized with a mixture of relief and sadness that she didn't have a job to go back to.

"Not that it matters, because we lost the Ministry, but this wasn't in the tests or manuals. I was trained to bring in criminals. I came to the Order because Mad-Eye trusted me and I wanted to help my cousin...I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm lost," Tonks heaved a shuddering breath after admitting her fear. She was known as the chipper one, the one to bring a laugh, but that was a standard that no one could hold all the time.

Remus turned toward her and gently put a hand over hers. "It's going to be alright. I wasn't trained for it either. To be honest, the way I handled it the first time was to run. I ran as far as I could after James and Lily died. Sirius was gone as well and I was suddenly alone in the space of a few days. I couldn't handle the grief."

"Did it help? The running?"

"No," He sighed, "no it did not." Remus looked down at the floor again. "I was so buried in my grief that I forgot about Harry. I missed out on his entire childhood because I ran from my pain. I was as lost as anyone could be."

He smiled at her, warmth and kindness in his eyes. "You, Nymphadora Tonks, will never be lost when you have peo-" he cut off mid-speech. "When you have me around to hold your hand."

Tonks' heart wavered. A shimmer of warmth fled through her body at his words. To her surprise, she felt her hair shorten and she knew that if she had a mirror, she would see her natural appearance right now.

"You," she paused for emphasis, "are the person I want holding my hand, all the time," Tonks said.

Remus seemed to realize his mistake and tried to backstep. "Dora, I'm flattered, I am. But you know what I am. It's not safe." Remus pleaded. He had come to the conclusion a long time ago that he was falling in love with the girl, but he had talked himself out of pursuing it for a plethora of reasons that he wasn't quite able to remember at the moment.

"The world isn't safe. You make me feel safe, you make me feel good about myself inside. You don't see my powers as a way to change who I am at a whim, or anything else, you just see me, a person with a useful gift. There aren't many others out there that would understand that. I don't have to hide or be someone else when I'm around you. Are you going to take that away from me?" Tonks said pressing down on his shoulder so he couldn't get up without throwing her off of him forcefully.

Remus started to sputter and Tonks just rolled her eyes. Whipping her shirt over her head and leaning down over top of him now topless she asked again. "Are you going to take that away from me?"

"Err. No." Remus said before leaning up and kissing her soundly.

The silence in the house was deafening. The all-encompassing lack of noise seemed to fill him up and leave him empty at the same time. Taking a few steps into the living room, even the click of his boots only seemed to crack the silence only slightly. The inhabitants of the house long asleep, he couldn't help but be grateful that they were finally getting to close their eyes against the doomscape that the world had turned into. He envied them, but he continued.

The steps creaked slightly as he took them instinctually searching out the room he was looking for. Even the creaks didn't seem to reach through the silence to his ears properly. The hallway seemed to stretch into a few different directions but he followed his feet, letting each one fall in front of the other.

Finally, at the end of the hall, he found the room he knew he was looking for. A small beam of light shone from under the door, unlike all the other dark bedrooms along the walls. A flickering fireplace forming a warm glow under the door. He approached as quietly as he had been creeping through the rest of the house, not even sure if he could break the silence if he tried.

If they had heard him come down the hall, they made no move to intercept his path or come to check. While the safety concerns over that behavior were worrying, under the circumstances he didn't blame them. With one child grievously injured and another struck down completely, the parents shouldn't be expected to be behaving coherently.

He knew that only a few more steps would take him face to face with the grieving family, so he took a moment to steady himself. Rolling his shoulders one last time and squaring them as best he could. He wasn't sure what the reaction to his presence would be, regardless of their reception of him, he needed to be here. It was the right thing to do. If for nothing else, he had always attempted to do what was right. There had been those who had disagreed with him, as was their right, but that didn't stop him from trying.

He stepped around the corner to face the familiar group of the red-haired Weasley family.

Molly was the first to look up at him and meet his eyes. Tears stained her cheeks and there was a hollowness to her gaze that struck him deep inside. The usual fire and fervor that had danced behind her eyes were gone, replaced with a bleakness that matched the silence he had previously experienced. As their eyes locked, new tears formed and pooled in her eyes, her face breaking into one of grief-ridden relief. "Hello Mum," he whispered, trying to remain untouched by her sadness. He wasn't sure if he had the right to expect more than that.

Her face seemed to crumple in on itself as she rose from the chair and stepped forward. She collapsed into his arms and they sunk to the floor despite his best attempts to hold her upright, Molly now sobbing in earnest.

"Thank Merlin, my baby boy has come back to me," The words were punctuated with sobs, tears staining the front of his robes. He found that for the first time he didn't much care. He simply stood there and held his mother as she sobbed.

His father stepped up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's good to see you again Percy."

After his mother's tears had subsided for a time, the group moved slightly away from the bed holding his youngest brother. Percy did his best to not continually glance over at his still form on the bed. Percy felt a spear of pain seeing that his mother had tucked a Weasley sweater next to Ron's form and she had been keeping his face clean-shaven. How had he taken her motherly love for granted so easily?

Next to him on a second bed that had been conjured was a small form under a white sheet. Momentarily he lost control of his entire self as the grief waved through him. His sister was gone.

"Listen," Charlie said gruffly. "I am of course grateful that you managed to make it out of the Ministry unharmed and it is good to see you again,"

The twins stood. Fred and George silently taking places behind their fathers' shoulders. The looks on their faces were almost unrecognizable to Percy. There was no spark in their eyes either. They had not forgotten Percy's words. And he didn't expect them to.

"But," Charlie resumed, glancing for a second at the identical siblings to his left. "Why are you here? Did you want to be here when Ron woke up so you could tell him you were right?" Charlie's words cut deeper than Percy would have thought.

While he had always had his disagreements with his younger siblings, he had always admired his older brothers. Charlie going off into the world to follow what he loved and Bill doing the same. Breaking free of the family home and starting their own lives, with the backing and pride of their parents. When Percy had pursued the things he had loved, his parent's reaction to them had been a bit more lukewarm. They were, of course, overjoyed at his grades and academic achievements, but he knew that his path wasn't the same as his brothers. His aspirations bored the rest of the spit fire family. Over the years he had accepted that and moved on. Understanding that they didn't appreciate what he loved, but as all parents do, they supported him nonetheless even though they didn't understand it. Charlie and Bill had always been encouraging, telling him to follow his dreams. It was just difficult because his idea of dreams was so drastically different from the rest of the family's ideas.

This past year had been the most difficult. Without contact with his parents and his brothers, he had felt adrift. He had buried himself in his work, looking up from his proverbial desk only when he was required to. His job encompassed his entire life, he finally could focus on the things he loved without anyone judging him for it. And yet, he had felt empty at the end of each day. There was no mother to dote on him and try to feed him more, something that had always annoyed him. No father to prattle on about silly things from the office. No brothers to fill his drink with potions or to charm his clothes to do funny things. He had never admitted it, but those were the things that balanced his love of government work. Without that counterbalance, the work became dry and tedious. Inclinations or not, he was a Weasley deep down and there would always be a part of him that reveled in the chaos of day to day life.

He had always held out hope that his older brothers had understood and forgiven him for the things he had said. However, when Bill's wedding had come and gone with no invitation, he knew it was time to let go of that hope. The Weasley's loved in their way, harsh, and fierce, and incredibly protective of their own. Percy had prepared himself for this confrontation with his oldest siblings, but he hadn't expected it to hurt as much as it did.

Percy closed his eyes for a brief moment and sucked in a breath, steadying himself. "Charlie, I understand your concern, but no. That is not why I am here." Scrubbing a hand across his eyes, Percy looked away, trying to clear a path for his thoughts to make sense.

"I'm here to say, I'm sorry," Percy said, not opening his eyes. "I was afraid for them. I was afraid for them because I had seen the way things in the school were going. Bullying out of control, blood purity being spouted in the hallways. I was scared for them, but I realize now that the way I went about it was all wrong. I should never have said those things, especially after everything Harry had done for the family already. I was wrong," He looked around the room and saw that his family was nonplussed.

"You have every right to be angry at me, to be wary of me, and to not want me here. My behavior over the last year was deplorable and…and I understand if you want me to leave. I have a letter," He pulled the note out of his pocket. "I would rather speak to Ron in person, but I can leave it if need be. I will never…" His voice broke harshly and he realized that he was going to lose the iron grip of control he had over his emotions. "I will never get a chance to apologize to my sister for my actions, and I just want…" He took a shuddering breath. "I just want to tell Ron how sorry I am before I lose that chance too," He put his face in his hands hiding his tears and his face, all semblance of calm and control now gone. "My baby sister is gone and I'll never get to tell her how much I loved her, I don't want to lose that chance for my brother too," The words finally fell out of him, quickly followed by the sorrow he had been bottling up since he had heard the news.

With his face still in his hands, he didn't see his brother approach him. Charlie's burly arms surrounded him in a hug. "Welcome home, brother," The tenderness that only an older sibling can have, evident in his voice. Charlie's deep voice bringing memories of their childhood flooding back to Percy. The times that the twins had pranked him and Charlie had defended him. The times that he had bandaged him up after Percy had fallen and hurt himself trying to keep up with Charlie and Bill.

His father had always worked hard to provide for the family and his mother had her hands full running the house and keeping up with the antics of the twins and Ginny. Charlie and Bill had always been there for him, to have them accept him back was everything he could ask for.

Jane sipped her tea and glanced at the other cup on the table. The cup was still warm, but the steam had stopped rising from the top. Jane considered for a moment if she had misjudged the situation, but immediately dismissed it. She knew her daughter.

The quiet that enshrouded the house now seemed to be of something other than sound. The air itself in the house felt heavy like something was slowly working its way through the air and into all of their psyches. Ginny had died, and despite the hurtful way that she had treated Hermione before she had left for Hogwarts, the death of a child was always something to mourn. The pain that Molly and Arthur must be going through was something she couldn't bear to even imagine.

Jane remembered her terror the night that Harry had appeared in the house cradling Hermione's body. It felt like her heart stopped until she realized that her daughters' was still beating, The anguish that had rocketed through her body was so intense that she vibrated even thinking about it.

Hermione had almost died tonight. The curse that had taken Ginny's life had been aimed at her daughter first. Harry, being who he was, had saved Hermione without a second thought. But Ginny's death was going to weigh on him terribly. Jane felt the least she could do to thank him for saving Hermione again was to help him through that. If only she knew how.

The years had not been kind to Harry, she knew that. Jane remembered the look on his face early in the summer when he had first shown up in their house. Scared, lost, confused, and grieving. Skip ahead to the man he had become since then and it was a transformation like she had never seen. The scared teenager was no more, and slowly rising from that was a young man resembling a hero from the storybooks. As a little girl, she had read stories of knights and princesses, just like any other girl. She had dreamed of a knight coming to sweep her away and declare his love, just like every other little girl.

As she had grown, she had learned that those kinds of things don't happen quite like that. When Jane had met Dan, she realized that knights in shining armour sometimes looked like dentists.

For Hermione though, her knight in shining armour had a sword and magic. The fairy tales weren't tales to Hermione. The dreams of a knight showing up to save the day were coming true. Unfortunately, along with the heroism from the stories came the pain that was usually left out of those tales. This kind of evil and death and war was something left out of those books. Jane knew why now. Because this side of war was something she had never stopped to think about for more than a moment. It was something that had fallen to the periphery of her thoughts, something from history books, or for other countries. The state of war wasn't something she was used to contemplating and yet now she found it to be a core aspect of her life.

A few months ago she and Dan had been cleaning children's teeth. Now, a few hours ago, she had watched her husband drain dark magic out of Harry's body. Her hands had been coated in blood trying to stem the gashes on Tonks' back. This was not the life that she had been living at the start of the summer. Jane sometimes couldn't believe how quickly she and Dan had fallen into the routine of being field medics. Alastor had even told her and Dan that there very well could come a time when he would need them to be out in the field with the rest. It hadn't taken Dan long to agree, and she had followed in kind a few seconds later.

Hermione was at the center of this, and Jane was determined to be there with her daughter until the last second. If Hermione was going to spearhead this fight, be part of the center mass propelling her world into a better future...well then Jane was going to be right there behind her daughter the entire way. Dental practices, card games with friends, fancy dinner dates with her husband. Those things were all gone, but she still had her daughter and her husband, and even Harry.

Hermione should be down any minute now. I'm sure she waited for everyone else to be asleep, but I know her. She isn't sleeping. Jane thought to herself.

A few minutes later, Hermione gently padded her way into the kitchen.

"Hello sweetheart," Jane said softly as Hermione slid into the room with a small glowing sphere of light hovering above her hand. Jane never grew tired of seeing the magical power that her daughter could conjure with a thought. It always filled her with a sense of such wonder.

Hermione looked over to her mother sitting at the table and the cup of tea already waiting for her. She heaved a small sigh and a quirk twitched at the corner of her mouth.

"You came down later than I expected," Jane said while blowing on her cup before taking another sip of the hot tea.

"Harry seemed to have a tough time staying asleep. He had a few nightmares and I didn't feel right leaving him. I gave him a dreamless sleep potion, so I hope it keeps him peaceful through the night." Hermione sat down and wrapped her hands around the cup in front of her.

"Do you want to talk about what happened tonight?" Jane respected that Hermione might not want to, but as her mother, she was going to offer anyways.

"I don't think..." she bit her lip. "Yes, I do."

Jane listened to her daughter's tale about her evening. The horrors that had happened at Godric's Hollow after visiting the graves of Harry's parents. The fear and panic at Hogwarts at seeing the peril of the students and teachers in the hands of the Death Eaters. The killing curse being hurled at her, and Ginny being revealed. Hermione shed no tears, but the corners of her eyes pulled sharply as she spoke. The young woman in front of her was hurting deeply, but she was focused and determined.

"I'm so sorry honey. I can't imagine how you feel right now."

"The thing is mum, I can't figure out what I feel either. There is a man in the other room that saved my life twice tonight. He saved so many lives and I am so proud of him and filled with how much I love him and his bravery. And at the same time, I am filled with this...anger at myself for making him do that to Ginny. If I hadn't been caught by surprise, then Harry wouldn't have had to deflect that curse. I feel like I killed her just as much as Lucius did," Hermione's voice grew fainter and fainter as she followed her words into the pit of her grief.

"That man upstairs loves you so very much that he was willing to do the supposedly impossible to protect you. You didn't make him do it. If it had been reversed, would you believe your own words if it was Harry saying them?" Jane asked her daughter pointedly.

Hermione looked very conflicted. She took some sips from her tea before responding. "No, I would do that for him a thousand times over before watching him die."

"Exactly. What happened tonight was horrible beyond words. But please don't beat yourself up for someone else's choice. You've been through enough without that." Jane placed her hand on top of Hermione's to soothe the slight trembling that had started there.

"How do I face them?" There was no need to specify who Hermione was referring to.

"They are grieving. They might need time. But in the end, I think they will understand that there was nothing you or Harry could have done."

"That's the thing that I am worried about most," Hermione said. "I don't know who Harry is going to be when he wakes up. Is he going to be drowning in self-loathing, or is he going to wake up determined to rush out and fight? I just don't know who is going to walk out of that bedroom tomorrow morning."

"Harry is going to walk out of that bedroom hon," Jane said with a light chuckle. "Harry will come out of that bedroom and either way he is going to need you. If he is down you are going to need to hold his hand and bring him up. If he is ready to fly into battle, you'll need to hold his hand and make him think. And rest."

Hermione smiled briefly and sighed. "You're right. I just hope that I can do that for him."

"I know you can, and I know that Harry loves you enough to try to do the same for you," Jane said.

Hermione opened her mouth to say more but was interrupted by the stamping of harsh footsteps coming from the stairs outside the kitchen.

Bill skidded into the kitchen, his face looking wild and exhausted all at the same time. Jane had observed Bill to be very even-keeled and the look on his face brought her to high alert. Although Hermione had stiffened at the sight of Bill, he seemed not to even notice her presence. Instead, with panic in his voice, he sputtered, "Jane, I need your help. Ron is starting to wake up."

"What?!" Hermione gasped.

"He has moved his hand a few times, but he hasn't opened his eyes. I don't think we can get in touch with Madam Pomfrey right now, What do we do?" Madam Pomfrey had already had a busy night healing different Order members that had fought at the Ministry.

"I'll grab my bag and meet you upstairs. Right now the thing we need to do is monitor his vital signs and make sure that he isn't having trouble staying conscious when he wakes up fully. I'll bring Pomfrey's list of monitoring charms for you to cast for me," Jane said as she rose from the table.

Bill nodded and swept from the room back up the stairs as Hermione began to speak in a hurried tone. "Mum, I don't think I can help you. I'm not ready to go into that room."

"It's ok. Let me handle this part. You go rest, be with Harry. I will take care of Ron and make sure that he wakes up safely. You go take care of yourself. I got this," Jane said as she wrapped her arms around Hermione's shoulders and steered her towards the door.

Hermione resisted for a moment before propelling her feet forward on her own. Hermione spun around and threw her arms around Jane. "Thanks, mum."

Jane pulled away, smiled, put a hand on Hermione's cheek, and admired her daughter for a second. Then she kissed her forehead with a tenderness she could never have expressed in words and, with a last quick smile at her daughter, hurried away to help Ron.

Hermione slid into the dark bedroom. She heard the patter of footsteps rush down the hall just as she hushed the door closed behind her. Her eyes took a second to readjust to the darkness in the room. With a thought, she bloomed to life in her hand the small sphere of light that she had let wink out earlier. In its simple glow, Hermione could see the soft outline of Harry laying in the bed gently breathing up and down.

She let go of a shuddering slow breath. Her flight up the stairs and spike of panic from contemplating seeing Ron right now was enough to make her heart race. She leaned against the wall and took in another breath. Slowly, Hermione repeated this until she felt her muscles start to loosen and her mind began to clear. She was glad that she had gotten a chance to speak with her mother. Hermione could feel some of the cobwebs in her mind start to clear and her mother's words started to sink in.

Sliding her back down the wall until she reached the floor, Hermione continued to breathe and think. She felt so weary. So tired. So drained.

She took another deep breath and wrapped her arms around her legs, pulling them close. And with one long exhale, she laid her head down across her arms, and finally fell asleep.

"Did you hear me, Harry?" Hermione asked softly. Harry's face hadn't changed since she had told him that Ron was awake. She had expected more of a reaction from him.

He blinked a few times and then nodded slightly. "Do..." he paused. "Do they know if his magic is gone or not?"

"I don't think so. He was only just starting to wake up a few hours ago when I fell asleep here. I don't know if he is all the way awake now," Hermione said, unfurling herself from the floor and feeling her back and joints complain about the hours spent on the floor.

Harry was sitting up in the bed now as well. The blankets and sheets made a small pool around his waist that made him look like something out of a movie. The nasty spell damage that was still visible on his side only added to the effect.

"We should go see him," Harry said.

"Are you ready to stand and start moving around?" Hermione asked.

"After sleeping, I'm feeling loads better honestly. I'm not sure what your dad did last night, but my side feels amazing."

"Let me see."

Hermione stood and approached Harry quickly, preventing him from standing and escaping her inspection. She gently moved his arm out of the way and laid the pads of her fingertips to the skin surrounding the wound. "Didn't my dad use stitches last night?"

"Yeah, why?"

"They're gone."

Harry blinked a few times. Hermione's bewildered eyes rose to meet his. He was as confused as she was. "Did he use a special thread or something?"

"No, I don't think so. Well, it looks a lot better than it did last night. I suppose without Madam Pomfrey around to tell you to stay in bed, there isn't anything I can do to make you stay in bed, is there?" Hermione asked with almost a smile. The pain she was feeling seemed to be alleviated with Harry's presence.

He nodded to her and slowly stood. Suddenly words started to tumble out of his mouth. "Thank you for having my back last night. I wish I could have saved more people, but I did the best I could. You know I did everything I could right?" His voice was unsure. He was desperately seeking her support and validation.

"Harry, we did everything in our power last night to save people. What you did in Godric's Hollow was something that I don't think anyone has ever seen in history. I have been going over it in my head over and over again as well, and I honestly believe you did everything in your power. There is nothing to be ashamed of."

Harry held her gaze for a few more seconds. "I wish I could forget the ones that I wasn't able to save."

"Me too."

He sighed. "That will have to be a problem for later, right now, we need to see Ron."

She nodded and waited for him to put on a shirt and make himself presentable. Harry had a second of hesitation before proceeding to change his clothes. Hermione had no intention of leaving the room right now. if she was going to face the others, then she wanted to do it by Harry's side. His discomfort with changing his clothes around her- well he was just going to have to get over it.

He didn't take long, and a few hygiene charms later he was back to looking like his old self. They nodded to one another and Harry reached for the door handle. Before she knew it, they were in the hall and slowly walking towards the sounds of distinct voices at the far end of the hallway.

Hermione felt the corners of her eyes tighten and the emotions rise to the back of her throat. In the other room, there was a family that was both grieving and hopeful at the same time. What kind of horrible and wonderful twist of fate made it to whereas one child leaves, another returns? If Hermione was having a tough time sorting her feelings on the situation, she couldn't imagine the trouble that Molly and Arthur were going through.

She took another determined step and forced her shoulders back. Harry was right, Ron deserved strength from them. He was the one who had to grieve the loss of a sister. It was not Ron's responsibility to worry about their feelings at the moment. If he was scared, they had to be brave. If he was weak, they had to be strong. He deserved that from them. They had become a team, and despite everything else that had happened in their friendship together, they were still a team.

Ron might be angry at them. As her foot fell another time in front of her, she contemplated her place in that. There was every chance that Ron was going to need someone to be angry at for a time. The stages of grief were something that was a fair standard to accept and her brain rolled through the different things that Harry and she could help him through. It was likely going to hurt, it was going to sting, and he was likely to say things that he didn't mean. For the first time, Hermione locked away her combative nature. All the times she had bickered with Ron, disagreed with him, yelled at him...she put those away and locked them tightly in her mind. He was her friend, she could be strong for him right now.

The second to last footfall felt like sticking her leg through honey. The grief and pain that hung in the air were almost visceral in their strength. She almost stumbled at her body's unexpected resistance to entering the room at the end of the hall. Ron had stood there, been tortured, and flung through the room on the brink of death. To defend her. She grit her teeth and stood as straight as she could. Hermione watched as Harry's shoulders rolled back as well. The line of his jaw was twitching with the effort of keeping his features calm.

They approached the door that was open just a crack and Harry slowly reached out his hand to softly rap his knuckles on the wooden frame. The soft voices stopped instantly and a second later, a very tired looking Fred opened the door. His eyes were rimmed and sunken into his face. Hermione was struck by the level of sadness in his stare like it was a physical blow. The face that was so usually filled with life and laughter, was sunken and gaunt, dark and deadened, harsh and devoid of spark.

"Harry." It wasn't a question, it was just a statement devoid of enthusiasm. If he felt something about seeing them, he didn't show it.

Fred stepped back and let the door swing open wider to admit them into the quiet room. Hermione crossed the threshold and for a moment taking in the sights around her. Her mother was sitting at the head of the bed and dabbing a moist cloth over the beads of sweat that were popping up on Ron's head. The room was starting to attract beams of sunlight through the window, casting half the room into sharp relief from the receding shadows of night. Ginny's body had been moved into the basement earlier this morning so the shadows were the only reminder of her death.

Harry stood shoulder to shoulder with her as Fred returned to the small chair next to his twin. Silence hung heavy for a moment.

"Molly, Arthur...this is al-"

Molly rose from the chair in a lightning flash and was suddenly wrapping Harry in a hug. "No," a single syllable muttered into his chest.

Harry seemed to quake for a moment his entire vibrating with an unseen force. "I'm so sorry..." Harry sobbed as he fell forward into her embrace.

"Me too honey, me too," Molly said as she held Harry close and they both cried. For a moment Hermione was shocked at the change in Harry's demeanor but quickly understood. Harry legitimately did not expect forgiveness from Molly or Arthur. He had put on a brave face so he could face the wrath, but it hadn't come. It had shaken Harry to his core so much that his facade broke.

After a moment they pulled apart and Molly rushed over to wrap Hermione in a close embrace as well. "I'm so glad you are safe Hermione dear." Hermione fell into the embrace and realized how passionately she had yearned to hear that same forgiveness extended to her.

Hermione felt the tears well up in her eyes too. She had been so afraid to face this moment. And here Molly was comforting her. The sheer strength of the woman in front of her, resonated in Hermione so strongly. She was momentarily in awe of this woman that had lost her entire family to the war years ago, and now had lost a daughter to the same war. She was still standing and she was ready to go back to the fight.

Hermione knew at that moment, she would never see Molly Weasley as a doting housewife, or an overbearing mother. This woman was a warrior through and through. The fear she must experience every day as a parent watching her children fight as soldiers...Hermione couldn't even begin to guess. Despite that fear, despite that loss and that grief encompassing her right now, Molly Weasley was still standing.

Hermione scanned the room again after stepping away from Molly and realized that her perception had shifted. Understanding something new about Molly seemed to transfer to the others in the room.

Arthur didn't look devoid of emotion, he looked calculating and focused.

The twins looked furious but the cogs in their minds turning.

Bill, Percy, and Charlie weren't standing impassively near the door, they were standing guard for anyone that might intrude on this sacred space.

And Molly. She wasn't crushed and crumpled by her pain. She was a ball of righteous fury that only a parent could exude. She was focused, determined, furious, and emblazoned with the passion to end the monster that had taken her daughter. Hermione did not doubt that the next person Molly Weasley turned her wand on in the battle, would be obliterated.

This was a family of warriors. Split throughout two wars. Their house name dragged through the mud because of their morals. Family members had laid down their lives to fight, and now, one had fallen as a victim. The people in this room had fought on nearly every battle of this war. Ron had been by their side since exactly six years ago after that first Halloween feast. Gryffindors to the very end.

A small cough came from the other side of the room and all heads turned to watch the features on Ron's face slowly come to life.