Chapter 26 - The Victory

December 1999 - Hogwarts

Somewhere along the way, Voldemort had miscalculated.

The crowd is rushing at him, none of his spells are working, and Harry Potter has disappeared.

Just a few moments ago, he was marching up the path to Dumbledore's Office with the boy's body levitating behind him. The Order's army had come up from the Quidditch pitch to watch. Voldemort had been overcome with glee when he'd seen the look of devastation on their faces as they took in the scene before them.

He was victorious, and now he would rule the Wizarding World, unopposed.

The boy's friends began to cry out and yell, so Voldemort silenced them. However, the spell didn't stick. Then a girl cried out, "His spells won't work against us! Attack him!"

Voldemort erected a shield charm, and the crowd ran right through it. That was when he turned and saw Harry Potter's shoe as he ran into the castle under his invisibility cloak. He was alive.

What had Voldemort missed? All year he'd been bested at every turn. Him - Lord Voldemort - outmaneuvered. How was it possible? He was the most powerful and cleverest wizard in the world. But he'd lost all of his horcruxes, and Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley had tricked him and now...who can he blame for this? He looks around and spots his most loyal servant, smirking to himself.

Severus.

Voldemort watches the wizard turn and run into the castle after Potter. Severus had gone to check on his body in the forest. Severus had said the boy was dead. Severus had lied. Had he been lying this whole time?

Voldemort grabs Bellatrix by the arm and bites out an order. "Kill Severus, if it's the last thing you do."

"Yes, My Lord," she says with a murderous gleam in her eye, before running after the traitor.

Voldemort is hit with a wave of nausea as an unfamiliar feeling settles in his gut. He has lost, his body knows it, but his mind refuses to believe it. He grips his wand tightly, the Elder Wand, the one he'd stolen from Dumbledore's grave, the unbeatable wand. He hasn't been defeated yet, he reminds himself, before running into the Entrance Hall to kill Harry Potter, again.

The battle has devolved into chaos. Everyone is pressing into the Great Hall, shooting spells haphazardly without stopping to see if they are aimed at enemies or allies. Hermione lost track of Ron when he was pulled away from her by the crowd. She stops behind a statue and takes several breaths. Her mind threatens to pull her into the future, but she doesn't let it. Not now. They haven't won yet.

She's still shaken from the sight of Harry's dead body. As soon as she'd seen it flopping in the air behind Voldemort, her whole world came crashing down. She rushed to the front of the crowd to get a better look. That's when Severus had caught her eye and given her an unmistakable message with a small smile: He's alive. It worked.

When Voldemort's spell didn't work on them, she yelled out for the crowd to attack him. Then she'd seen Harry disappear. The pressure in her chest released and she wanted to sit down, to recover from the shock of being hit by an all-consuming despair, then almost immediately, flooded with immense relief. But there was nowhere to sit. She was being pushed into the castle.

As she tries to collect herself behind the statue, she remembers Harry's words to her from the forest. You've always been the stronger one out of the two of us. She doesn't think it's true, but regardless, she needs to be strong now. She can't die right at the end. She takes a breath and rejoins the fight.

When she reaches the Great Hall, it is clear Voldemort's side is losing. The few Death Eaters that remain are all in battles with two to three Order members, but they are fighting dirty and sending dark spells into the crowd, not caring who they hit.

Hermione scans the room for Harry. Where is he? What if he's hit by a rogue curse? They are all only protected from Voldemort's spells, not his followers.

A large piece of stone comes crashing down toward her from the ceiling and she jumps out of the way just in time. She needs to focus on her own safety. Harry can take care of himself.

She spots Voldemort battling Kingsley and Robards at the far end of the room, then, just as Kingsley jumps out of the way of a killing curse, Harry appears out of nowhere. Voldemort turns to focus on him, shouting something Hermione can't make out. Harry yells back, but Hermione can't hear him from this distance.

Soon, the rest of the people in the hall notice the two of them fighting and all other duels stop as the crowd turns to focus on Harry and Voldemort. The noise subsides and Hermione can finally make out most of Harry's words. He's saying something about the Elder Wand.

Voldemort suddenly looks scared. It's an incredible sight and she thinks it's one she'll never forget. The moment when the evilest wizard of all time realized he'd lost.

The next part happens so quickly, she almost misses it, since she'd been so focused on Voldemort's expression. Harry casts a silent spell, and Voldemort responds with a killing curse. The two spells collide in the air and an awed hush comes over the crowd as everyone watches the scene play out, as if in slow motion.

The spells twist around each other, then they both shoot back at Voldemort, hitting him squarely in the chest. He crumples inelegantly to the ground and his wand flies out of his hand to Harry, who catches it easily.

The crowd is silent at first, probably from shock. Just minutes ago, they'd all thought Harry was dead, but here he was, alive, and having just killed Voldemort. Then, there is a booming cheer and Harry disappears behind a rush of people.

Hermione starts making her way toward him, but he's all the way across the room. Someone grabs her by the arm and pulls her to the side. It's Hannah Abbott.

"I know you probably want to celebrate and all, but we could use your help at the Quidditch Pitch. We don't have many healers."

Hermione hesitates, then scolds herself. She'll see Harry soon. She's needed elsewhere now.

She follows Hannah to the Quidditch Pitch and spends the next two hours healing as many injuries as she can. She catches sight of Harry a few times while she works. When he first sees her, his face breaks into a grin and it looks like he's about to sprint toward her, when someone grabs his arm. He turns toward a pretty witch who is crying.

The witch throws herself at Harry and he catches her in an awkward hug, then starts patting her back. He gives Hermione an apologetic smile over the witch's shoulder.

Hermione guesses the witch lost someone in the battle and is looking for comfort from Harry. She sees a few people brush their hands along his arms and back as they walk past, as if they don't believe he's real. Or maybe, they just want to be able to tell their friends they touched Harry Potter.

This will be Harry's life now, Hermione thinks as she works on healing a nasty set of cuts on an older wizard's torso. He was famous before, but that was nothing to what he'll be now. He'll be known as the person who ended the war, defeated the darkest wizard of all time, and defied death, yet again.

This won't be the last time a pretty witch literally throws herself into his arms. He'll be able to pick any witch he wants. When that happens, will he still want her? She was a good choice when they were in isolation, but what about now?

She shakes her head. She needs to give Harry more credit. He cares about being famous as little as she does. He's probably hating all the attention.

Once Hermione finishes with the old man's injuries, someone comes to escort him to the Great Hall. It's George. Hermione gives him a smile and asks after Ron. George waves toward the end of the pitch and Hermione sees Ron carrying a body with Neville back up to the castle. Her heart clenches and she hopes it isn't one of their friends. But at least Ron's safe.

Hermione is so tired, but there are more people to heal. Before she moves on to the next witch in line, Hannah hands her a stamina potion and tells her to take a few minutes to recover. Hermione steps away as she downs the potion and looks around for Harry, but doesn't see him. Her head is spinning and she doesn't know how she's going to manage another healing spell, but in a few moments, the potion starts to kick in and she turns back to the line of injured witches and wizards.

As she works on the next person, she thinks this is fair, since she didn't fight in the battle. This is her fight. After the next two patients, she gets a reprieve. Madame Pomfrey gathers the small group of healers and announces that they've taken care of all the critical injuries and can rest.

"I have one more person to heal in the Hospital Wing, then I'm going to turn in. You should all do the same. There will be minor injuries for us to tend to in the morning," she says before turning back to the castle.

Hermione helps the witch whose leg she'd just healed back up the path to the castle. When she reaches the Great Hall, she looks for Harry, but he's not there. Neither is Ron. She is about to send a Patronus when she catches sight of two lines of bodies at the end of the Great Hall.

Her head is telling her to turn around and find Harry. She can find out who died tomorrow. But her legs take her to the other side of the room.

The first line of bodies are all Order members. She recognizes a few students from school, but no one from her year. She sees a few Aurors, Dawlish and Williamson, but no close friends. She breathes a small sigh of relief when she gets to the end of the line, but it still hurts to see how many people gave their lives for their cause today.

Hermione turns to the other side, where Voldemort's supporters are lined up. She sneers at each body she recognizes, and doesn't even feel bad for quietly celebrating their deaths. Avery, MacNair, Adrian's brother, Thomas, Crabbe, Bellatrix - She stops in place when she sees the next body and her heart stops.

Severus.

Tears flood her eyes and her knees buckle. She nearly faints, but someone catches her. Her vision is clouded, so she focuses on the feeling of the strong arms around her as she tries to catch her breath. As the fog clears, she recognizes Death Eater robes and jumps back, her heart pounding wildly. She reaches for her wand and stands to face whoever had caught her and is hit with an odd feeling of recognition. But she doesn't know this person.

Eventually, her tired brain figures it out. This is Draco, he just looks different because of his dark hair. He has turned toward Severus and Hermione collects herself and pockets her wand before joining his side.

"Bellatrix," Draco explains, unnecessarily. She could have guessed who'd killed Severus by the knife protruding from his neck.

"I tried to help," Draco continues, "but she was determined. She said the Dark Lord commanded her to kill him. He got her with a killing curse, but not before she threw the knife."

So his cover was blown, right at the end. Hermione wonders how. She turns to Draco. "When was it? Before Harry beat Voldemort, or after?"

Draco keeps his eyes on Severus. "Just before."

Tears start streaming down Hermione's face. She turns back to Severus and places a hand on his leg. "He didn't see us win," she whispers. "He fought for years against Voldemort, and didn't get to see him defeated."

Draco shifts at her side, then holds something out for her. She lets out a laugh when she sees what it is. It's a handkerchief, embroidered with his monogram. She takes it and dabs at her eyes. "You keep a handkerchief in your Death Eater robes?"

He shrugs. "I always have one."

Of course he does. She turns to look at him. He looks very sad for someone who just won a war. She wonders if he's sad because of Severus, or maybe another of his friends was killed today. Crabbe? It seems wrong, though. The depth of the sadness in his eyes doesn't match the loss of an old friend or a favorite professor.

"What's wrong, Malfoy?"

He shakes his head and she's not surprised. She didn't really expect him to answer.

"Will you help me move him to the correct side?" she motions toward the line of bodies behind them.

Draco nods and they levitate Severus's camp bed toward the other line of bodies. She's glad for the help, since her spell is so weak, she knows she wouldn't have been able to manage this alone. Once they lower Severus's bed next to Dawlish's, Hermione looks back at Draco and sees him holding his arm awkwardly against his side. She guesses he's got a dislocated shoulder. She almost offers to heal it when she remembers her weak levitating spell. She wouldn't have the energy to heal his shoulder right now.

"He doesn't belong here," a vaguely familiar voice cuts through her thoughts.

Hermione looks up to see Marietta Edgecomb at the head of Severus's bed, sneering down at him. Hermione smiles when she sees the faint scars of acne on her face, from Hermione's spell that was enacted when Marietta blabbed about the DA to Umbridge several years before.

"Yes, he does!" Hermione bites back. "He was spying for our side."

"Who told you that? Him?" Marietta cocks her head toward Draco. "Another Death Eater."

"Both of them put their lives at risk every day, for months, to help us. Can you say the same, Marietta? We wouldn't have won if-"

"I can vouch for Severus. And Mister Malfoy too. Why don't you go check outside and see if they need any help bringing people in, Miss Edgecomb?"

Hermione turns to find Professor McGonagall. "Miss Granger," her old professor says in greeting.

Hermione throws her arms around her and McGonagall stiffens in surprise. Perhaps Hermione has grown too accustomed to hugging professors this year. But she is so drained. The emotional rollercoaster of today has finally gotten to be too much. All she wants is to find Harry, crawl into a bed with him, and sleep for a solid day.

Between having to say goodbye to Harry, seeing him dead, then seeing him alive, watching Voldemort finally die, healing so many injuries, losing Severus, then Draco and whatever was causing his sadness-

She pulls back from McGonagall and looks around. That's right, Draco is injured. Maybe McGonagall can heal his shoulder. But he's gone. She hadn't gotten a chance to ask him about Ginny.

"There's someone waiting for you in the hospital wing," McGonagall says.

Hermione focuses back on her and her face drops. Another injury. She doesn't think she can manage it. She's about to say so when McGonagall places a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I don't need you to heal anyone else, my dear. It's Mister Potter."

"Harry? He was hurt?" She hadn't noticed from across the pitch. But she hadn't been close to him.

"No, but I told him to go there to get away from everyone. He said he'd only leave if I sent you and Mister Weasley up with him."

Hermione nods and gives McGonagall a small smile. "Thank you."

She turns around and if she had the energy to, she'd run to the Hospital Wing, but she's too tired and just manages a swift walk.

As soon as Hermione reaches the doorway of the Hospital Wing, she is hit with a sense of familiarity. This is another vision, coming to life.

Harry is sitting up on the bed. There are two wands on the table next to him. He smiles when he sees her enter the room.

"Hey," he says simply.

"Hey," she replies, as she approaches the bed. Her heart swells. Harry. He's here. Alive and well, and smiling at her.

She raises her hand and brushes a scratch on his cheek that hasn't been healed yet. He's real.

"Let me guess, Quidditch?" she quips.

He smiles widely, then turns his head and kisses her finger. "You know me so well," he says with a grin.

She leans in to kiss his cheek but is interrupted by a sound in the hall. She turns to the door and sees Ron. He beams when he sees the two of them.

"Are you injured, Harry?" Ron asks.

"No. McGonagall was just very insistent I come up here and get checked out. Madam Pomfrey didn't find anything. And I - didn't mind the quiet," he adds a little guiltily.

He shifts to the edge of the bed and pulls his legs up to make room for them. Hermione goes to his side and leans against him, resting her head on his shoulder. He wraps an arm around her. Ron climbs up and sits with his legs crossed on the foot of the bed.

They sit there in silence, grinning at each other. They all look exhausted, and there's a haunted look in each of their eyes. But they're here, they're together, and they've won.

"You did it," Ron says eventually.

Harry pulls Hermione tighter against him and places a hand on Ron's leg. "We did it."

December 1999 - Scottish Highlands

Ginny is lying on her bed, staring at the canvas ceiling in the same spot she's been for hours, when she hears a sound outside the tent. She jumps up to a sitting position. This is it, they've come for her. She thought she'd have longer. She thought the ward around her wand would break first and she'd have a chance to pack up her tent and go on the run.

She looks over and is surprised to see a new message on the chess piece. She hadn't been checking it. There are three words: Dark Lord defeated.

So, even with Harry dead, someone had managed to kill Voldemort. Both kings are dead. She wonders what the special chess term is for that.

She knows she should feel relief, or happiness, but she just feels cold and empty. She senses eyes on her and looks up to find Draco in the doorway. His hair is back to normal and his Death Eater robes are hanging open over the outfit she'd seen him in this morning.

He has a few scratches on his face and his arm is hanging oddly at his side, but he doesn't appear to be seriously injured. Ginny marches up to him and slaps him hard across the face.

He turns his head and closes his eyes, then says in a flat voice, "The Dark Lord is dead. The war is over. You won."

Tears start to fall from her eyes again. She is mildly surprised. She'd thought after hours of crying, she was all out of tears. "At what cost?" she demands.

Draco looks back at her, his face is still blank. "Many people died today, but none of your friends or family, as far as I could tell. One of your brothers was badly hurt, but it should heal."

"Which brother?"

"Uhh, one of the older ones who didn't go to school with us."

"Did he have scars on his face?"

"No."

Charlie, Ginny thinks. She goes to sit on the edge of the bed and focuses on the ground, not wanting to look at Draco. "How does Harry not count as one of my friends?" she asks through her tears. "I went into Voldemort's mind and I saw him die. I should have been there, Draco!"

She goes back to stand in front of him. "But you kept me here!" she jabs a finger hard into his chest. "I will never forgive you for that!"

Draco grabs her finger with his good hand and lowers it gently. "Potter's alive."

"What?"

"I don't know the details, since we all thought he was dead too, but then he came back to life. Again. He was the one who killed the Dark Lord."

None of this makes sense. Ginny saw him get hit with a killing curse. "What?" she asks again.

Draco sighs. He crosses the room and removes the ward around her wand, then hands it to her. "Just come on. You can see for yourself."

They apparate to the front gates of Hogwarts and walk right through them. That's a good sign, Ginny thinks to herself. There is smoke all around and it's starting to flurry. Ginny pulls the collar of her cloak up and shoves her hands into her pockets. She almost leans against Draco for warmth before remembering how angry she is with him.

When they reach the Great Hall, she thinks it's eerily quiet, given how filled with people it is. She spots two lines of bodies at the far end of the room, then on her right, a line of injured witches and wizards. She sees Charlie instantly, surrounded by her family.

Her mum spots her first. She cries out and runs to meet her. "Ginny! We've been looking everywhere for you! You're safe, are you hurt?" Her mum is running her hands up and down Ginny's arms.

Ginny nods as tears sting her eyes. "I'm fine. Is everyone okay?" she asks her mum. "Did they all make it?"

Her mum is nodding and smiling as tears fall down her face. "Everyone is safe. Where have you been?"

Ginny ignores her question. "Even Harry?" Ginny starts to look around for him.

"Yes, of course. He went off with Hermione and Ron to rest, but he's just fine, Dear. They all are."

Ginny throws herself back into her mother's comforting embrace. Soon her father is there, wanting to hug her, then George, Percy, Bill, and Fleur. She hugs each of them and looks over at Charlie. He gives her a small wave and a smile. Ginny turns back toward the Entrance Hall.

She suddenly wants to hug Draco. She should have done that from the start. She was so stupid, hitting him as soon as she saw him. He'd survived, and he'd only locked her up because he was desperate to keep her safe.

She looks around, but can't find him. He's gone. She feels the chess piece burn in her pocket and turns away from her family to check it.

I'll be back in a few days.

January 2000 - Hogwarts

A few days later, Harry wakes up in his old bed in the boy's dormitory of Gryffindor Tower. He turns and smiles when he sees Hermione sleeping soundly. It's so strange that for years (the whole time he slept in this bed), she was so close, but he never noticed her.

Now, he can't imagine not waking up next to her every morning, not getting to reach out and touch her any time he wants, or not having the assurance that no matter how hard a day he has, he'll be able to talk it over with her later that night, as he holds her in his arms.

He sees her eyes moving behind her closed eyelids and her lips turn up slightly. He wonders if she's dreaming of the future. Our future, he thinks with a small smile.

She'd admitted to him, last night, that she was the Seer from the centaurs' prophecy. She told him she'd been seeing visions for almost a year, but that it wasn't until a week ago, when one of the visions played out in real life, that she realized what she'd been seeing all along, was the future.

Then, she'd gone on to explain that because Harry was in her visions of the future, she had a reason to suspect he would survive the battle. It had prompted her to figure out why Dumbledore had insisted Voldemort be the one to kill him, but she couldn't tell him about it, since the protection he'd placed on everyone wouldn't have worked if he'd known he wouldn't die.

Harry could tell she was worried he'd be angry with her for keeping the truth from him. She looked away from him during her entire explanation, and at the end, she gave a long speech about how sorry she was about lying to him and how this was the last secret she ever intended to keep from him.

Harry wasn't angry with her. He was in awe at the enormity of the burden she'd been carrying all year, with no one but Snape to confide in. And he was fascinated, and a little amused, that Hermione, the person who hated Divination more than anyone, was a Seer.

He also thought the centaurs' prophecy was funny. It hadn't played out how anyone thought it would. The Seer had helped him, for sure, and he would have been completely lost without her, but it had nothing to do with her Seeing ability.

When Harry asked Hermione what type of visions she saw, she went quiet. She had been facing him, but shifted so she was lying on her back.

"I don't want to say," she replied, carefully. "It's not natural to know your future. I sort of wish I didn't know."

"Just tell me a little bit," he urged. "Are we all happy? Does this peace last?"

She smiled and nodded, then turned her head to face him. "Yes. Everyone's happy."

They were quiet for several moments while Harry played with her hair. Then he asked, "How about Ron? Does he get married and have kids? He's so worried about it right now. He thinks he's cursed and will never find love that lasts."

Hermione was silent and he didn't think she'd answer him, then she turned on her side to face him and said, "He does. I don't recognize his wife, so it's someone he hasn't met yet, but they seem happy. And they'll have two kids."

Hermione stroked his cheek with her hand. "You're so sweet, asking about Ron, before yourself."

"Well, I assumed you wouldn't tell me about myself."

"You're right." She pulled her hand away from him and he could tell she was uncomfortable about the turn the conversation had taken.

He sidled closer to her and placed a hand on her waist. "Please?"

She bit her lip and he could tell she was thinking hard.

"I just recently thought I was going to die and not have a future…" he said with mock forlornness.

She rolled her eyes. "You can't keep using that."

He opened his mouth, affronted. "When have I used that?"

"At dinner, with Ron. To get the last roll."

"Oh, that was a joke. I'm serious now. Dead serious," he added with a smile.

She laughed, fully, and his smile widened. He loved making her laugh.

"Fine," she said when she was finished laughing. "You have a family too, and you're very happy."

He pulled her closer to him, so she was just inches away, and pushed a curl behind her ear. "Where are you?"

"Harry, I-" she looked down at his chest, clearly trying to avoid his gaze.

"I can't imagine I'd be very happy without you by my side," he pressed.

He saw a tear fall down her cheek and his heart fell. "We've only been together a month, Harry."

They weren't together in the future. That was the most likely explanation for her hesitation. Harry took his hand off of her waist and shifted back a few inches. "I think it's been closer to six weeks," he replied, his voice flat. "But I've known you for most of my life, and I know what I want."

She looked up at the canopy of the bed and he could tell she was calculating something. She turned and gave him a small smile. "That's not technically correct. It won't be until just after your 22nd birthday that you can claim you've known me for most of your life. We're still a few years off."

"Hermione," he pleaded. "Tell me. I can handle it. You just said you were finished keeping secrets from me."

Hermione scowled at him, but there was a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Why do you have to be so damn persistent?"

He gave her the most endearing look he could muster, but she just lifted her pillow and covered his face with it. "Don't look at me like that."

"Come on, Hermione," he said, pulling the pillow off and pushing it behind his head. "Just tell me. Do we end up together? Yes or no?"

"I can't say, Harry. I don't - I don't want you to make any decisions about your future because you think that's how it's going to turn out."

"I won't. I think Divination is a load of crap. I don't intend to let any prophecies or visions (not even if they're yours), force me into doing anything I don't want. I promise."

She considered for another minute, then grumbled, "I hate you." Though it wasn't very convincing, since she was clearly suppressing a smile.

She sighed before adding, "I guess I'll just say that based on these visions, which may or may not be a load of crap (since I also place no stock in Divination), we are together, and happy."

His heart felt so light, he thought it would float away. "Yeah?"

She nodded and he went back to her side and kissed her forehead softly. "Will you tell me more?" he whispered.

"I - just a little bit. But then, you have to stop asking."

"Okay, I promise."

"We get married, and it's a small, but beautiful wedding."

"Outside?"

"Yes."

He smiled. He pictured something close to Bill and Fleurs' wedding, but with half as many people. He moved his hand to her hip and started playing with the top of her pajama bottoms. "What else?"

"We have kids," she said with a small, tentative smile. He returned it immediately.

"How many?"

"Three. But I won't tell you their names or genders; so don't ask."

Harry bent down and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. "Three is a lot," he said when he pulled away.

"Yeah," she sighed, wistfully.

"Tell me more, please," he whispered. He felt like someone had placed a spell on him that caused a blissful peace to settle in his heart and he didn't want it to stop. After years of living with a looming prophecy of uncertainty and potential death, this sort of prophecy (a promise of a happy future) was intoxicating.

"We live in London, and we work at the Ministry. Ron works there too and we see him all the time. We spend a lot of weekends at my parents' house and at the Burrow. There are a lot of Weasley grandchildren and our kids will call them cousins, even though they're not technically related. We also spend a good deal of time in the Muggle world, a little bit so the kids can get exposure to it, but also because we love the anonymity. And - I don't know. That's it, I guess."

Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione and pulled her against his chest. "Thank you," he said as a few tears fell down his face. "It sounds perfect."

"Really?"

"Absolutely."

It occurred to him, then, that Hermione had been nervous to tell him all of that, not just because she was worried about their relationship turning into some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy, but because she thought he wouldn't like the beautiful future she'd described for some reason. The way she'd been studying his reaction, like she expected it to be bad, broke his heart.

When he pressed her on this, she went on to explain that now that he was Harry Potter, the Savior of the Wizarding World, he could have any life he wanted. Any witch he wanted. He reiterated that he wanted her, and wasn't planning on changing his mind.

He tried his best to explain how deeply he loved her, even though it lived mostly as an all-consuming feeling in his body that no words seemed adequate to describe.

How could he explain how it felt to have someone who had seen him at his absolute worst, still love him, and trust him, and be willing to devote her life to him? He couldn't explain how much it meant to him that, even though she thought he was going to die in a few months and leave her completely heartbroken, Hermione still chose to be with him, since she thought whatever short time they spent together was worth it.

No other witch would have done that. And no other witch would have stood by and watched him fall in and out of love with the wrong people for years, while remaining supportive, since all she wanted was for him to be happy, even at the cost of her own happiness. Maybe it was true that he'd be able to get any witch he wanted (which was crazy to think), but no other witch could begin to compare to the one he already had.

It was odd that Hermione was nervous about not being enough for him, since Harry thought he wasn't enough for her. She was remarkable. Look at what she'd accomplished in just the past year. She'd managed the Order's most critical spy, invented an entirely new potion, and taught herself to become a very effective healer. She was just twenty years old, and she'd managed most of those achievements before her mind had become more powerful following her recovery from Pucey's capture.

Now, she said her mind was moving so fast, she could barely keep up with it. There was no telling what she'd come up with in the years to come. How could someone so brilliant, be satisfied with someone like Harry?

But he figured he didn't need to stimulate her intellectually. She could get that elsewhere. He could help her laugh, find joy in simple things, and calm her brain a bit. He'd support her, and love her, and just hope that that would be enough for her. If her visions were right, it would be.

Harry leans over and places a soft kiss on her cheek before finally getting out of bed. He grabs his wand from the table and relishes the familiar feel of it in his hands as he pads to the bathroom. He'd fixed his old wand with the Elder Wand the day before and has barely let it out of his sight since. It was like welcoming back an old friend.

He takes a quick bath, dries off, and gets dressed before heading down to the Common Room to see if anyone else is awake this early. On his way down the stairs, he sees it's finally snowed. It had been flurrying for days. The grounds look beautiful and he wonders if there will be a snowball fight later. It's so odd to think of doing something fun and pointless like that, but they can now. The war is over.

Most of the Order members have stayed on at Hogwarts, since they've been in all-day meetings since the battle to plan everything from recapturing the government, rounding up the last Death Eaters, paying for the damages from the war, to restoring their massively damaged relationship with the Muggle government.

Harry is glad Kingsley is in charge. He's an excellent strategist with a work ethic rivaled only by Hermione. He'll do well, even though he is a bit cutthroat. A few years ago, Harry would have hated that about him, but he sees the value in it now.

They only have a few more details to work out, then their all-day meetings will end and their first order of business will be running trials for the captured Death Eaters. Kingsley wants to start with a show of force. Harry, Hermione and Ron's plan is to stay through the trials, then leave for Australia, to get her parents. Kingsley didn't want Harry to go, since he's the face of the recovery, but this trip is non-negotiable.

When Harry gets to the Common Room, he sees it's empty except for Ginny, who is sitting on a chair by the fire and staring blankly into the flames.

Poor Ginny. She's had a hard few days. She told her family about Malfoy and they were less supportive than she'd hoped. Her parents have been lecturing her almost non-stop, and George refuses to talk to her.

It's made worse by the fact that Malfoy seems to have disappeared, and he's stopped sending her messages on the chess pieces they use to communicate. So, Ginny has been left defending a relationship she wasn't even sure was real anymore.

Harry sits in the chair next to her. "Good morning."

She hums in response, keeping her eyes on the fire.

"Are you okay, Ginny?"

"I'm worried about Draco. I'm so angry with myself for how I treated him just after the battle."

She's already told him this. "Come on, Ginny. If he knows anything about you, he knew what he was getting into when he locked you up like that. He knows you love him, and I'm sure he'll be back soon."

She nods and sighs deeply, then finally looks over at Harry. "We haven't been alone, since, well, the battle."

"Yeah. I guess not."

"I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you."

He gives her a small smile. "I'm sorry you thought I was dead. I sort of did, too, so I know how you feel."

She lets out a small laugh, then they're both interrupted by a voice behind them. "I'm not sure if I've told you this before, but this is without question the worst of all four common rooms. How can you relax with all this red?"

"Draco!" Ginny runs to the entrance of the Common Room and throws herself at Malfoy. He catches her and pulls her into a tight embrace.

Harry turns away so he doesn't have to see them kissing. Even though he knows Malfoy is a semi-decent bloke now, seeing him with Ginny just feels wrong. He tries to bury it though, and remind himself how supportive she was of Hermione and him.

"Where were you?" Ginny asks.

"I'll tell you later," Malfoy mutters.

Harry stands and nods at the couple. They're still holding each other. "Welcome back, Malfoy."

He gives Harry a curt nod. "Potter."

Harry rolls his eyes. They need to work on their greetings, but he figures they have time, unfortunately. Harry goes back up to the dormitory. Maybe Hermione is awake and they can go down to breakfast.

When he gets back to the room, he hears crying. "Hermione?"

When he pulls the curtains of the bed back, she's curled up in a ball with her head in her knees, sobbing. She turns to look at him and her eyes widen in surprise. "Harry?"

She lunges at him, throwing her arms around his neck. He takes a seat on the bed and gathers her into his lap. She's still crying heavily. "What happened?"

"I - I - I woke up and you were gone. And I thought you were really gone, like dead, and I wondered if everything that happened the past few days were fake visions, and this was real. And my mind started to fill it in, an alternate ending, where we still won, but you didn't make it."

She cuts off to take a few breaths before talking quickly again. "I thought it was real, it felt real, or maybe this is still a vision. I don't - I don't know. My mind - I can't keep track, and I'm getting lost in it."

Harry pulls her tighter against him. "It's okay, Hermione. This is real. I'm here, you're okay," he whispers as she continues to cry. Her sobs don't subside but instead, get worse. He figures her mind is still running away from her. He needs to help her turn it off.

He pushes her off his chest slightly so he can see her face. She looks scared and her eyes are red and still filled with tears. "Look at me," he whispers.

She nods and looks into his eyes obediently.

"You told me once my eyes had a lot of different shades of green in them. Can you try to pick them out?" She nods again. Harry has no idea what he's doing, but he's hoping if he can get her mind to focus on something here in the present, she'll be able to calm down. His own mind is racing, trying to think of other ideas.

"Okay," he adds after she's been looking into his eyes for a few seconds, "we're going to count too."

"Count?" she looks at him, confused.

"Yeah, backwards by threes, from, uh, 200."

"That's not a multiple of three."

"Then it will be harder, won't it?" He gives her a small smile. "Breathe with me, and count, and look in my eyes. Okay?"

She nods again and starts counting slowly, pausing to take deep breaths whenever he prompts her to. "200, 197, 194, 191…"

When she gets to 101, she stops and lays her head on his chest. "I feel better, thank you. I -" she pauses to sigh. "I'm embarrassed," she whispers.

Harry props his chin on her head and hugs her tightly. "You had a panic attack. There's no shame in that. You've been through a lot, and your mind is too powerful sometimes."

"I love you, Harry," she whispers again, then adds in a voice so low, he almost doesn't hear it. "I know I'm not as strong as I was before, but please don't leave me."

"Never."

Harry leans back against the head of the bed and pulls the blankets over them while Hermione continues to clutch him tightly. He'll try to talk about this more with her later, when she's had longer to calm down. He knows she thinks this makes her weak, and she prides herself so highly on being strong, but this has nothing to do with strengths or weaknesses, it's just a byproduct of being human.

She may be a genius, and Seer, but she's also just like him - a bit of a mess sometimes. And she's so used to supporting everyone around her without stopping to think about herself. Well, that will be Harry's job. He'll take care of her. He'd done fine just now, and he could do it again.

He catalogues the information away on the mental list he'd started a few weeks ago. First: never touch her wrists. Second: when she starts to sway on her feet, force her to sleep. Next: don't let her wake up alone.

A/N: This was a very Harry/Hermione focused chapter, which means we'll get a ton of Draco and Ginny in the next one. I know most of you are only here for one of the ships, so thanks for bearing with the other, less-interesting-to-you relationship. I've been trying to keep both of them as real and engaging as I can.

I personally thought I was going to prefer the Ginny/Draco pairing, since both characters weren't well covered in the original books, so I'd have more room to be creative. BUT, I think this Harry/Hermione relationship is delightful. I never considered them together before this, but now I'm outlining a story for just them to write after this one. I think at this point I like both pairings equally - in case you were wondering - which you probably weren't. ;)

The next chapter will be posted Tues, Apr-13.