Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry stood proudly atop a cliff, its numerous turrets jutting into the night sky. Tonight, the towers were lit up with dozens of twinkling lights, outlining the school's impressive silhouette.

On the ground, a steady stream of figures alighted from carriages and made their way up the stone steps into the Entrance Hall. Many guests had chosen to apparate to Hogsmeade and travel in style from the small village to Hogwarts, just as they had done in their school days.

Inside Hogwarts, the Entrance Hall buzzed with excited chatter as a procession of guests alighted from a fireplace, the school having been connected to the floo network for the occasion. A number of witches and wizards congregated, laughing and shaking hands, in the Entrance hall, while others were making their way excitedly through a grand set of doors into the Great Hall. Many exclamations of 'Oh my! It looks exactly the same!' as well as 'Look, this was where Olive Hornby and I accidentally set fire to the curtains!' rang out as people crossed the threshold into the familiar room.

It was barely seven-fifteen, but the Great Hall was already filling up with wizards and witches in colourful dress robes. Hordes of tiny house elves were winding through the crowds, weighed down with enormous trays of butter beer, mead and pumpkin juice.

A young witch with a lot of bushy brown hair, looking slightly out of place in a black muggle cocktail dress, peered into the Great Hall, her heart thumping in anticipation as she searched the crowds for a familiar face.

'Hermione Granger!'

Two identical young men with fiery red hair charged through the crowd towards their old friend. One of them grabbed her round the waist, lifting her up in a tight hug and swinging her round.

'George! Put me down!' Hermione shrieked, laughing. George set her down and both he and his twin, Fred, enveloped her in their arms.

'Well at least you can still tell us apart!' George laughed, ruffling Hermione's long curly hair.

'It's so great to see you again, Hermione!' Fred exclaimed standing back and looking at her.

'And both of you as well! It's been months since I've seen you,' Hermione said, beaming. 'And actually, it's Hermione Davidson, now,' she added coyly.

'That's right!' George exclaimed. 'You married the muggle!'

An anxious-looking man hovered behind Hermione, his smart dark suit standing out in the sea of robes. He was tall, with dark curly hair, and from the expression on his face it seemed as though he might like to borrow an invisibility cloak from somebody.

Hermione took his hand.

'Fred, George, I'd like to introduce my husband, Paul Davidson,' she announced, her cheeks turning pink with a combination of embarrassment and pride.

'Great to meet you, mate,' Fred and George said in unison, shaking his hand warmly and clapping him on the back. Paul smiled politely, stammering a little.

'Yes, yes, of course, I've heard all about you! It's, ah, it's wonderful to meet you,' he replied timidly.

'Bet you were terrified of coming here tonight,' one of the twins teased him, grinning as Paul shook his head, protesting. 'Don't worry, you aren't the only muggle that's been dragged along!'

Glancing around, Hermione noted that George was right. Dotted around the hall, the muggles were easy to spot as they looked about in awe at the floating candles and the bewitched ceiling. A plump middle-aged woman in a turquoise trouser suit, who was almost clinging to her husband's robes, let out a small shriek as the Bloody Baron sailed through her. Hermione shuddered, remembering how shocking the icy sensation of a ghost passing through you was, even when you knew what to expect.

'Third one of these reunions I've been to, and I still never know what to expect!' the muggle nervously confessed to a nearby witch, who merely laughed and swept past her.

Hermione gazed at her surroundings and marvelled at how much bigger the hall was than she remembered it. She rolled her eyes at herself when she realised it must have been magically expanded to accommodate several generations of Hogwarts students. Hermione realised she must be getting too accustomed to living within the limitations of the muggle world.

She helped herself to two glasses of pumpkin juice from a passing tray, and handed one to her husband, who sniffed it nervously. She stifled a giggle as Paul took a sip and tried to suppress a gag.

'I suppose it's, er, an acquired taste,' he joked nervously.

Hermione was so pleased that Paul had agreed to come along to this reunion. She knew he was still getting over the shock that his new wife was a witch, and she hoped this would not make him feel like he was in over his head. She was thankful that Fred and George, as the first of her old friends to greet him, were not being quite as hyperactive as she knew they could be. She listened for a moment as Paul struggled to explain to Fred exactly what a mechanical engineer, his profession, was.

'Who else is here?' Hermione took the opportunity to ask George while Fred chatted animatedly to her husband. 'Has Harry arrived yet?' George shook his head.

'Haven't seen him yet,' he replied

'And Ginny?' Hermione enquired tensely.

'Not yet. To be honest, I'm not sure whether she will actually come,' George confided. Hermione's stomach flipped at his answer, but she was not sure whether it was relief or regret she felt.

'How is she doing?' she asked quietly.

'Good,' George replied earnestly. 'Better than she was. She's working for us now, she seems to love it. And she moved out of Mum and Dad's.'

'Oh, that's good,' Hermione nodded, lost in thought. Despite what had transpired between she and Ginny in the past, it had upset her to hear that her old friend had been unhappy the past few years, cutting herself off from the world, flitting from job to job, unable to settle.

George seemed to read her thoughts.

'I'm sure she'll be happy to see you. If she turns up,' he said kindly. Hermione smiled, but she was not entirely convinced.

After a few moments of silence, Hermione took a deep breath.

'It feels so wrong. You know. Ron not being here,' she said timidly, voicing what she knew they had been avoiding mentioning. George swallowed and put his hand on her shoulder.

'It is wrong,' he agreed softly. 'Things are just not the same.'

'No.'

Hermione's eyes filled with tears as the night of Ron's death flooded into her memory. It was so cruel, so unfair. Voldemort had just been killed and almost all of his followers were either dead or captured. Hermione and her friends all thought they were safe, thought they had won. Harry had survived his battle with Voldemort. The worst was supposed to be over.

Hermione swallowed hard as she recalled how she had become separated from Ron and Harry just after the battle, and before she could find them, she had found herself cornered by one of the only remaining Death Eaters.

'Expelliarmus!' Hermione yelled, but she was too late and it was her own wand which was whipped from her hand.

Bellatrix Lestrange rounded on Hermione, her eyes gleaming, her expression crazed.

'You don't scare me,' Hermione announced, though her heart was pounding and she thought she might faint. 'My friends will be here any second. You've got no one left on your side, you might as well give up.'

'You silly little girl!' Bellatrix shrieked, brandishing her wand. Hermione fought the urge to cower, and looked her defiantly in the eye as the black-haired woman continued. 'Do you know how many wizards I have killed? Wizards ten times more powerful than you! Even your so-called Aurors cannot touch me!' Bellatrix screamed.

'They caught you once! And they will catch you again, and then you can rot in Azkaban for the rest of your pathetic life!' Hermione cried. 'Voldemort is dead, you have nothing left!'

Instead of screaming this time, Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. Pointing her wand at Hermione, she calmly uttered a spell.

'Crucio.'

Pain coursed through Hermione's body, agony like she had never felt before. She could not see, she could not even tell whether she was standing up or lying down. In the distance she could hear awful, awful screaming. Afterwards, she realised it must have been her own.

The pain stopped as abruptly as it had started. Hermione felt the cold ground against her cheek and hands. Shaking uncontrollably, she struggled to sit up. Ron's face swam in front of her.

'Hermione. It's me, Ron. You're going to be okay,' he said, taking her hand.

Lestrange's body was lying motionless behind Ron.

'Is she…?'

'Dead? No, I just stupefied her,' Ron replied. He helped Hermione to her feet, and they hugged tightly.

'Oh, Ron! I thought I was going to die,' Hermione gasped.

'I thought you were, too,' Ron replied, stroking her hair.

'You are now,' came a deadly voice. Hermione and Ron sprang apart, and Hermione was horrified to see Bellatrix standing before them, her wand trained on Hermione.

She did not even hear the curse Bellatrix uttered. In a blur of movement, Ron was pushing Hermione to the ground. As she fell, Hermione saw the slashing motion of Bellatrix's wand and a green flash of light. Hermione landed hard, Ron on top of her. She could hear the grating sound of Bellatrix's sick laugher. Then footsteps thundering, voices shouting, and Bellatrix's laughter turning into a scream. Then silence.

Hermione struggled to catch her breath beneath the heavy weight.

'Ron?' Hermione whispered. 'Ron, you're crushing me.'

Ron was silent, unmoving. Faces appeared above her. Harry, Ginny, Lupin. All wore the same expression of terror. Lupin gingerly rolled Ron over. Hermione struggled to sit up, and knelt at Ron's side.

'Ron?' she whispered, gently shaking his shoulder. Lupin bent over Ron, checking for a pulse. Behind him, Ginny started to sob.

'Ron! It's Hermione, can you hear me?' she asked, more forcefully.

'Hermione,' Lupin said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. The cold realisation swept through her, and suddenly she could not breathe.

'No, no, no!' Hermione cried. 'Ron, please!'

'He's gone, Hermione,' said Lupin hoarsely. 'I'm so sorry.'

Harry seemed to be fighting back tears as he hugged a distraught Ginny, but Hermione felt numb.

Hermione fought back her tears, and pushed the memory from her mind. She was determined not to cry this early in the evening.

'Wouldn't Ron have hated a night like this?' she said, smiling fondly.

'Yep. Dress robes, dancing … Ron's worst nightmare!' George laughed. 'Here, Fred, remember that time Ron had to dance with old McGonagall?' George called to his twin.

Fred looked up swiftly, his face momentarily showing his pain at the memory of the younger brother he had lost. His expression quickly changed to a weak smile.

'That's right! We never let him forget that one.' Fred's grin grew stronger. 'The look on his face when McGonagall told him to put his hand on her waist!'

'That's Professor McGonagall to you, Mr. Weasley,' a stern voice chided.

Fred whipped round to face the elderly head mistress. Professor McGonagall, leaning heavily on a walking stick, looked a lot frailer and had a lot more grey in her hair than Hermione remembered.

'Ah, Professor, you're not going to take ten points from Gryffindor are you?' Fred cheekily goaded her.

Professor McGonagall tried to appear unamused, but her face quickly softened into a fond smile.

'Not this time, Mr. Weasley,' she said kindly, as Fred and George both leant down in turn to hug their old professor.

'And Miss Granger! It's wonderful to see you. Or should I say, Mrs Davidson,' Professor McGonagall warmly embraced Hermione, and shook hands with Paul, who looked slightly more at ease with this introduction.

'Actually, she's exactly like my old Maths teacher from school,' he confided to Hermione later.

Hermione chatted with the Weasley brothers a few minutes longer, enquiring after their parents.

'Are they here tonight?' she asked. She noticed a quick, tense look between the twins.

'No, Mum wasn't really up to it,' Fred replied.

Molly Weasley had been one of the many casualties of the final, horrendous year battling Voldemort. For weeks afterwards she had lain in St Mungo's, hovering between life and death, before eventually pulling through, though she was permanently wounded. These days she was practically housebound. That coupled with Ron's death had been a horrific blow for the Weasley family, and Hermione wished she could have helped more. However, as much as she had tried to keep in touch with them all and visit as much as possible, she found that they were not altogether receptive to her new life. Ginny had been avoiding her ever since Ron's death, and Mr and Mrs Weasley seemed to pick up on that, sensing something was not right, and treating Hermione less and less like a daughter the way they used to. When she began her relationship with Paul she could sense their disapproval and gradually lost contact with all of them apart from the odd letter from Fred and George, who did not even attend her wedding.

Hermione made her way around the Great Hall, stopping to talk to dozens and dozens of old faces and marvelling at how much emotion it was possible to feel in the space of half an hour. Several times tears threatened to roll down her cheeks, whether from laughter or from sadness. She talked to Neville Longbottom for a long time and was unable to believe they had lost touch. Neville had been badly injured during their seventh year in a duel with several Death Eaters and he still walked with a limp, his face lined with deep scars. Hermione was amazed and delighted to find that he was now married to Hannah Abbott, another of her classmates that she had lost touch with, and even more amazed that she had never noticed how perfectly suited the pair were. Both had lost parents to Voldemort and his followers, both were shy, kind and hard-working, both shared a passion for Herbology. Neville confided that he had been offered the position of Herbology teacher at Hogwarts, but was reluctant to leave the business he and Hannah had built, producing magical potions from rare plants.

Talking to Neville brought a lot of laughter and cheer, but also an immense sadness. One of Neville's closest friends had been Luna Lovegood, who had been killed during the final year of school. Luna, Neville and several others from Dumbledore's Army had joined Harry, Ron and Hermione at one point during a quest for a particular Horcrux, and Luna had given her life, before anyone could stop her, in order that the Horcrux be destroyed. They had all been devastated, and no one more than Neville, who had found something of a kindred spirit in Luna. Both had been slight outcasts and had appreciated each other's friendship in a way Hermione knew no one else could understand.

As Hermione and Neville reminisced about happy times and sad times, a sudden grin spread across Neville's face as he stared at a point over Hermione's shoulder and began to wave enthusiastically. Hermione turned curiously and her heart leapt.

'HARRY!'

Neville and Hermione both ran at their friend and they all embraced in an extremely tight, three way hug. The moment they broke apart, all three began chattering at once, exclaiming about how long it had been since they saw each other and shouting about how different they looked. Hermione realised that although she and Harry wrote frequently, it had been over six months since they last saw each other, at her and Paul's wedding. Harry had been the only one from school to attend.

Suddenly, as the three friends emerged from their cocoon of reminiscing, Hermione became aware of an intimidatingly beautiful girl standing slightly behind Harry. Hermione raised her eyebrows at him, and after looking back at her questioningly for a second, he seemed to remember the girl was there, quickly took the her hand, and she stepped forward.

'Er, this is Kate. She was a few years above us at school. She's a Healer at St Mungo's,' Harry rattled off quickly, shyly, in that matter-of-fact way he had always had.

'Wow, it's lovely to meet you, Kate,' Hermione exclaimed warmly, shaking the girl's hand. She was immensely curious: Harry had never mentioned Kate before. She gave him another questioning look and he shrugged uncomfortably. Typical Harry.

Harry, Neville and Hermione continued to chat for several minutes, Hermione regularly trying to include Kate in the conversation, though she seemed happy to listen quietly.

It was close to eight o'clock when Kate disappeared to speak to her own classmates and Harry left them to track down Tonks and Remus Lupin, who were now married with two young sons they had named James and Sirius. Hermione was dying to speak to them too, but she could tell Paul was beginning to feel overwhelmed and decided to lead him to a quiet seat at the extra-long Gryffindor table, ready for dinner. As Hermione and her husband chatted quietly and Hermione pointed out more people she knew, she had to do a double-take as a familiar figure appeared at the doorway to the Great Hall. A mane of red hair, a pale, freckled face and an uncomfortable stance in her green dress robes.

Hermione could not believe Ginny had turned up.