The first thing Harry woke to was a bruised pair of brown eyes, staring down at him in worry and despair. The emotion quickly vanished form Hermione's eyes once she realised he was awake, but he'd seen it. He knew it was always there anyway. Hermione was one of the only few who still believed in him. Sometimes he hated her for it – the belief. He hated disappointing her, forcing her to continue his struggle because of his own inadequacy.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
No. Never okay. It was a stupid fruitless question. He would never be okay, until Voldemort was finally dead and he, Harry Potter, would be able to find some peace.
He didn't reply, asking, "What happened?"
She swallowed, and he knew it was bad. More pain. More suffering. An endless dark abyss. Harry just didn't understand all this anymore. Hermione filled him in on Luna's death and, a although she left out most of the gory detail, it was reflected in her eyes. Luna Lovegood was dead, and Harry hadn't been able to save her. Another death, more blood on his hands. Luna's blood. Luna was dead now, and he would never see her ever again.
"I'm sorry," he told Hermione. He sat up, with effort, and brushed a hand against her smooth face. She closed her eyes on the upcoming tears, in another worthless attempt at hiding her emotions from him. "I'm sorry you had to see Luna's death. I'm sorry you have to continue fighting when I know how much you hate it. I'm sorry I couldn't kill Voldemort for you."
"It's not your fault, Harry," she began weakly, but he stopped her. They'd been through this a million times already, and nothing either of them could say would make things better.
He titled her head towards him and gently kissed away the salty tears from her closed lids. She sighed for the closeness that she craved and lowered herself gently on top of him, melting into him as his arms surrounded her. She titled her head to kiss his pale neck, and he moaned with appreciation.
This could be their only relief. When they were just together, alone. Later there would be complexes and questions – neither was sure what kind of relationship they had or what sort of feelings they held for each other. But for now, they were together, and together they could find a little comfort.
He slipped off her small cardigan and held her close so she would not be cold. She pushed off his pyjamas shirt, and ran delicate hands over his smooth chest. The moon shone down on them both as they moved together, almost dancing together, sharing that secret smile they always shared. For those few moments, they were no longer alone and in despair. For those few moments, they were intimate, close, warm. Nobody could hear their soft sighs and moans – it was like they were in their own little world, a soft cocoon void of doubts and torment and hate.
They stood in the Great Hall, all of them – the fighters, the survivors. Training. Harry was the only one not present. He'd left with Dumbledore early this morning, for India the rumours said but they were only rumours. Nobody really knew where Harry was or what he was doing there. A blanket of gloom hung around the hall, and many wondered whether they'd ever see their "savoir" again.
He hadn't told Hermione he was leaving, and he hadn't said goodbye.
"So you're going back to your parents' house, then?" Ginny asked, her eyes on Hermione and not on her book like they were supposed to be.
Hermione shook her head to gather herself from her thoughts and then replied, "Yes. I was attacked here last night. Hogwarts is supposed to be safe. I just don't feel comfortable here anymore."
"Especially with Harry gone," Ron said with a bite in his voice.
"Maybe if some of my friends weren't so distant the whole time, Ron –" she began hotly.
"Hermione…" Something in his voice, in his face, stopped her rant. There was a flicker of emotion in Ron's blue eyes, emotion, something she hadn't seen in so long. "I don't want to fight," he told her. "I'm sorry."
Ron didn't have the strength to fight anymore. He didn't have the strength for anything anymore. He was drained, drained of any of the spark she'd once known and loved. Ron was so far from the boy she'd once been in love with.
He was barely a friend anymore.
"How did the Malfoys get in anyway?" Ginny interrupted, causing Hermione to tear her eyes away from Ron's.
"I don't know. Dumbledore has a theory but…the Dark side are getting stronger, and we all just have to accept that Hogwarts isn't safe anymore. There's nowhere left for us to hide. Once they feel they have enough power, they'll attack Hogwarts. And Hogwarts will fall."
They both nodded soberly. But Ron and Ginny wouldn't leave. They had nowhere left to go.
The Weasley household had long been destroyed. The only other member of the family still alive was George, and he seemed unable to cope without his twin. George had left Britain a long time ago and nobody had seen him since.
She looked back to her book. These books had once been in the restricted section but now were open to everyone. She was trying to learn wandless magic but she could only manage the very basic spells. Her mind couldn't focus very well on such things anymore.
The sight of Draco had disturbed her more than she was happy to admit. She couldn't dwell on it much, she didn't want to dwell on it, but something about him brought back that old swirling guilt that had haunted her through her late teens. She tried to concentrate on her book again but her vision had gone blurrily. Angrily she wiped at her eyes with the bank of her hands and said, "Everything's so fucked up."
If either Ron or Ginny were surprised at the use of such language, they didn't show it, but their serene nods showed her that they agreed. Everything was so fucked up. Everything.
Right, so, this story is back up and running. I doubt this will be too long though. Small changes - the rating is now M, and it will be a bit more grown up. Happy to be back in the Harry Potter writing world, although my exams (big BIG exams) are in june so I won't be properly back until mid June. Still. Hope somebody's still reading this, and a review would be very encouraging indeed.