Voices. Light. The occasional presence by her bedside. It all drifted past Hermione as if she was covered by a shroud of fog. Riding through a field of sorrows, protected against it by her own sense of guilt. Facts barely scraping against the outsides of her glass coffin.

Dumbledore was dead. Snape had killed him. Malfoy had betrayed them, he had betrayed her.

The guilt she felt about not comprehending Draco was nothing compaired to the shame she felt at the way her heart had jumped a beat when he had descended that staircase alive. Through all the anger the feeling of relief had been undeniably there, threatening to resurface at the earliest mention of his well-being. But those eyes, the swirling silver in them hardened and broken. They had been empty, dead.

It was the eerie song of the Phoenix that enabled the tears that had previously shattered on the marble floor like glass, to now roll down like the drops of salty water they actually where. It was the song that guided her on her journey through her consciousness, but it had not been able to banish his eyes. Dead, yet still watching.

Hermione woke with a start, scrambling to clear herself of the covers. Everything felt suffocating, the very air was pressing her down. She said upright taking in the dark room, which could only be the Hospital Wing. Through the grand round window came the earliest hints of dusk. Her ears picked up the sound of raspy breaths and she turned to her right.

"It's that bad, eh?" Bill said in response to her widened eyes, self-consciously touching the drab his face was covered in.

"I'm pretty sure you shouldn't touch that," she said relaxing. Even in the dark she immediately recognized the Weasley hair. Besides Ron, Bill had been the only other Weasley male to join in the fighting. She was glad not to be alone.

Bill scoffed, "Madam Pomfrey told me as much. It still itches like hell."

Automatically Hermione started adding up all the possible ingredients that could have gone in the poultice. Judging by the smell it was safe to say fermented frog organs were one.

"What happened?" she asked, hoping he would not confirm what she was already thinking.

Bill looked down a moment before answering, "Werewolfbite, or slashes more like it. But he wasn't transformed so that counts for something."

Hermione noticed the way he tried to lighten his words, hiding his devastation, because she, too, knew exactly what it felt like to hide her own despair. She moved to hug him, this brother of Ron's she had had no more than a few conversations with about his work as a curse-breaker, in this moment felt closer than any of her closest friends had ever done.

"I'm sorry, Bill."

And he, too, felt that unspoken connection as he hugged her tight after only a moment of surprise.

"I'm sorry, too."

They let go of each other and exchanged sad smiles.

"You know, you talked about him, while you were asleep," he said, carefully choosing his words, offering her a lifeline out of that sea of rough emotion.

"I thought I could change him," she admitted, amazed at how easy it was to confess her secrets to Bill. After all the troubles she had gone through to keep her secrets buried, it was seemed so easy to just let it all out. Bill gave her an encouraging nod and so she did. She told him about there meeting in the library, how looking back he could only have searched for information to abuse. How he had offered to pay his debt and she had asked he wouldn't call her a Mudblood any more. How she had seen him carrying the necklace into the Three Broomsticks, and later when she confronted him she had kissed his tears away. How avoiding Malfoy had become a daily sport and when they finally met up again he had obliviated her. When she had found out she forced him to put her memories back and she remembered him kissing her, so she had kissed him again and… Hermione couldn't voice the way she had felt when he had pushed her away once more, breaking his word and calling her a Mudblood. When Ron got poisoned she just knew it had to have been him, again she confronted him and this time she discovered his Dark Mark. When she went to Dumbledore he had told her to keep quiet because he had everything covered, only he hadn't. And she told him about the fight in the boys bathroom and how she had gone with him to the Hospital Wing. The way he had again shown to be the person she had fallen in love with. But in the end he hadn't chosen her.

"I though I could change him," she repeated, "but I was wrong. And now all this is happening because I let him do it. I should have stopped him. I -" her voice broke, tears already halfway down her cheeks before she thought to wipe them away.

"Loving someone is never wrong, Hermione. Love is the purist of emotions and in this time of hatred we could use some more." Bill had stayed quiet throughout her story, no judgement had flickered on his face and he had kept urging her to continue. He knew that if he hadn't given her the opportunity to talk she would very likely have kept it inside until it eventually consumed her.

"But that isn't right," she opposed, remembering the fiery hatred that had rushed through her veins mere hours ago, trying to grasp at what was left.

"I want to hate him. He deserves to suffer for what he has done," she spat. Somehow it seemed easier to hate him than to give in to the sheer desperation that was the ever growing pit in her stomach.

"But you can't," Bill concluded. Hermione nodded defeatedly.

"Hatred does more damage to the person holding it than to the person it is directed at. Try to forgive him and if you can't, at least forgive yourself."

A feeling of understanding dawned in Hermione. The words Bill had spoken made sense now, blaming herself wouldn't solve anything, just like hating Malfoy wouldn't. But forgiveness? That seemed a step too far.

"What about you?" she asked, offering him the same courtesy, and partly because she didn't think she had any more to give. Yes, a weight had been lifted of her shoulders, but she had been walking around carrying that weight for so long she didn't know who she was any more without it, and now, now she would have to claim herself all over again.

Bill shrugged, "It's not as bad as it seems. My mother and Fleur finally see eye to eye. Besides, comparing to Lupin it could have been worse." The same airy tone in his voice. She wanted to give Bill someone to confide in, someone to trust, but forcing him wouldn't do anyone any good.

"Just because someone else has got it worse doesn't mean you don't get to feel the way you do. Don't validate your feelings on someone else's situation."

"I'm scared," Bill admitted after a while and for a moment it seemed like he wouldn't elaborate either.

"Scared of what the werewolf poison might do to me. Scared that Fleur could still decide to leave me tomorrow. Scared that if she doesn't I'll drag her down with me," Bill rambled, pressing his palms to his forhead. He looked at her and quietly added, "I love her and I don't want her to suffer for loving me back."

"Trust me, pushing her away won't solve anything."

"You're right," he nodded in understanding and returned her sad smile.

For a while they sad in contemplative silence, each trying to figure out how this new perspective would fit into their lives. As the light gained territory on the shadows, their clutches of despair weakened, the first birds started their morning song.

"You should try and get some sleep," Bill said, "Madam Pomfrey won't treat me kindly when she finds out I've been keeping you awake."

"I believe it was a mutual effort." Hermione jumped of his bed and tiptoed back to her own.

"Goodnight," she whispered before pulling the covers over her eyes, trying to shut out the light.

"Goodmorning," Bill replied.

A smile played around Hermione's lips as she fell back into a dreamless sleep. The dead eyes that had previously haunted her put to rest.

Breakfast was filled with Bill telling her what happened yesterday and Madam Pomfrey telling him to be quiet lest the wounds on his face reopen. Apparently the eyes she had been seeing were those of Gibbon, the only casualty of the battle.

The Death Eaters had entered the castle via the Vanishing Cabinet Malfoy had fixed which connected to it's twin at Borgin and Burkes. The Death Mark had been put above the astronomy tower to lure Dumbledore and an invisible barrier had been placed in front of the stairs and, as Hermione had suspected, only those with a Dark Mark could pass. Snape had been alerted and even though Ginny had hexed his robes to grow a few centimeters causing Snape to repeatedly stumble and even fall once, this had not prevented him from killing Dumbledore. Hermione was glad to hear that Draco had not tarnished his soul with murder even if his hands were still stained with their Headmaster's blood.

As Madam Pomfrey unwound the bandages covering her right arm Hermione asked when she would be discharged. The gash had healed completely, only a pink line of babyskin still visible. The healer gave Hermione a stern look but told her she was free to go, if she remembered to take her rest.

Hermione moved to give Bill another hug, careful not to mess up the newly applied drab on his face.

"Thank you," she said softly, knowing that if he had not enabled her to talk about her feelings she would eventually have corrupted her own heart with hatred.

"And you, too," Bill replied, also glad to have had the weight lifted from his chest, even if it had been just a little. He had found Hermione to be a remarkable young witch and hoped she would get through this war emotionally intact. He hoped they all would.

"And you stink, you know," she added teasingly and pulled away. The way they had talked yesterday had somewhat scared her, too. To have that level of understanding with someone she had never even thought possible, not even with Draco. Hermione wondered if Bill was the friend she had needed all along.

"Oh well, I suppose Fleur smells good enough for us both, as well," Bill joked to himself and waved to Hermione as she disappeared between the grand double doors.

A/N Well, well, wel. Here is the next chapter. Saw that someone was wondering whether the previous chapter would be the last, thank you for your question and the answer is no. My plan is to continue into the Deathly Hallows, but I'll only be adding chapters were stuff differentiates from cannon. After TDH I will continue my the post-Hogwarts story focusing mainly on Draco and Hermione. Also there are now over a hundred people following this story! Thank you all so very much 3