A/N: I don't own Harry Potter

Warning: mentions of character death, grieving.

Word Count: 581

Harry looked out over the horizon. The sun was starting to set casting a golden glow over everything.

"You would have loved this," he whispered. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you," he added, looking back at the sun. The light hurt his eyes, but it felt better than the constant pricking of tears he wasn't about to cry. Things had gone so wrong in his life. He'd lost so much and now he was sitting here watching the sunset alone. He'd always planned to ask Ginny to marry him with a golden sunset lighting up the background. Now, that plan was gone. Just like Ginny was gone. He'd been too late to save her, he'd been too late to save so many people. Slowly, a lone tear managed to escape Harry's determination and trickled down his cheek.

"It's pretty, isn't it?' Hermione asked, walking up behind him.

"What are you doing here?"

"You slipped away, I figured you wanted to be alone, but I didn't, so I followed you. It's hard to believe it's been a year since... well, you know."

"Yeah. She would have loved this sunset. Sunsets always made her hair look like it was on fire," Harry muttered. Hermione nodded, sitting down next to Harry.

"I know, it did the same to Ron's. Imagine how he would be wanting to play a game right now. He always flying at twilight, just as it got dark. He liked to pretend he was playing in the World Cup. Seems kind of silly now, thinking about that," Hermione whispered. Harry shook his head.

"No, it doesn't. Remembering them, it keeps them alive, in a way."

"It does," she agreed. "But at the same time... I want to let go, Harry. I want to move on. I know I'm the one holding myself back. I know a broken heart doesn't mend in a finite amount of time, but I'm sick of waiting for the morning where I wake up and I'm not bursting into tears thinking about him," Hermione said, tears streaming down her face. They sparkled red and orange in the dying light. Harry slowly wiped one from her cheek.

"Is there a moving on? We've both lost so much, can we come back, ever be whole again?" he asked. Hermione shrugged.

"I don't know. I want to keep believing it's possible, but... I burst out crying over a pair of socks, Harry!"

"It was a picture of a horse for me. Her patronus was a horse."

"Yeah, I remember watching it gallop in the Room of Requirement. Ron's was a dog, isn't that kind of fitting, so excitable, furry, fun," Hermione sobbed. Harry slowly pulled her to him and wrapped an arm around her, letting her cry into his shoulder.

"We'll figure this out, Hermione. Somehow, we'll make it," he whispered, gently patting her back. She raised her head, meeting his green eyes with her brown ones.

"You really think so?"

"I do. I mean, we survived so much. We'll find a way to survive this too. We might have saved the world, but maybe together, we could save each other. That's that friends do, what we've been doing since we met?"

Hermione nodded, letting out a little bark of a laugh remembering all the times she'd saved Harry and he'd saved her. Maybe he was right? Maybe they could make this work, maybe they could both survive being the survivors and somehow, with each others help, finally move on?