There's so much we have to work though, Harry and I. We've been through so much, and I feel closer to him now than anyone else in the world. I know how he feels, for I'd believe I was the murderer of Draco. Harry knows how I feel, for he doesn't have parents either. It's like our lives mirror each other's. I know he needs my support, and he knows I need his.

We go to counselling. Harry to "deal with his problems" and me, to overcome mine. The story of Harry's uncle's death is still a bit of a mystery. All I can tell from Harry is that Vernon Dursley had been hitting him. Harry had snapped, and taken out his wand…He says it all seems like a dream now, but I think he's just trying to block it out.

"I wish I could tell you it was self defence," he told me last night, with wide sorrowful eyes as we'd walked along the lake. "I wish it were that simple. It's not. He'd hit me plenty of times before, it was no reason to kill him." Pain. "He didn't deserve to die. It was like all the anger over Sirius was personified into one man, and I felt like I had to kill him."

"But why were you okay then? So quickly? When I left, you were still not right. How did you recover?"

"I slept," he'd replied to me simply. "I hadn't slept for so long. I slept and I talked and I saw the people who I knew loved me. And then I heard you were gone, and you'd attacked Draco and I was worried about you. And then Draco reported that you were kidnapped…I guess some things are more important, really. I didn't want anything to happen to you."

"You'll always be a hero, won't you?" I'd smiled.

Harry hadn't smiled back. "A murderer isn't a hero, Hermione," he'd responded seriously and I'd only glimpsed a fraction of the guilt and self-hatred in those brilliant green eyes. It was gone when I'd blinked, but I knew Harry was only acting strong. Like he always does.

I act too. But the acting helps. After a while, when you fake smiling and fake laughter, it becomes less of a act. Eventually you're so used to doing it, it starts to become sincere again. Everything's not okay, but life's become real again. There's more in the world than just my parents' faces. I can feel other things. I guess it's because Voldemort is gone and the trio are reunited again. Friends help more than anything else at a time of need.

Ron's been brilliant. He understands. He never shouts anymore. He doesn't suffocate. He might have done, once upon a time. But he's different now he knows what to do. He's been giving me space, but lingering in the background just in case I need him.

Draco hasn't reverted back to his old ways. Although he's not singing praises at the top of his voice down the hallway for Neville, he hasn't insulted any of the Gryffindors. When he sees me in the hallway, he gives me a special smile. It's strange, how I nearly killed him and how we always hated each other, but I feel a sort of bond with him. We've both done things we regret, and we will probably always be searching for our amendment.

I told Draco of this, about how we'd always be looking for our forgiveness and probably never find it. His response has made me think about a lot of things.

"I guess all that matters is that we keep looking for it."

Maybe that's true. Maybe, as long as you're sorry for the things that you've done, it'll all be okay. I'm not too sure about a God or anything, but maybe we'll all be granted access to heaven. As long as we try our best.

I stand in front of my parents' grave now. It's so quiet. There's a beauty to this place. The church bells ring in this distance, and the sun is spilling down on me. There's a dozen different bouquets of flowers, a mesh of colours and nature. And, even with them gone, I am not alone. My friends all stand behind me. Ginny Weasley. Ron Weasley. Neville Longbottom. Lavender Brown. Luna Lovegood. Harry Potter. People who care for me. People who will help me when I need them to. My friends.

This summer won't be bad. It'll weird, not going home. I'm going to Ron's. It'll be okay though – it's too noisy and crowded there, I won't be able to think about anything gloomy. Mr and Mrs Weasley will be there, and Mrs. Weasley has already told me that anytime I need to talk, she's willing to listen. And Harry will be at the Burrow, whenever he's ready to come.

Life always moves on. No matter what happens, life always carries on around you, and you have no choice but to keep up. Slowly and surely. Everything happens for a reason, after all, and although I can't really explain any of this year's reasons, I know I'm only sixteen years old and I have my whole life ahead of me to find out.

And I know that mum and dad aren't really that gone at all. They're alive, in me, in my memories, and I know that I'll never forget them.

Thanks to Alenor and Seghen for last chapter reviews! This is just to tie everything up. Story now finished! Yay! I love finishing stories!

Thanks for anyone who supported me through this story...it was difficult!

Taintless
xxx