Word Count: 600


Romilda tries to convince herself that this is real, that it isn't just some temporary moment of peace. Even after seeing Voldemort die before her eyes, it feels like a trick. Peace is always so fleeting, and she is too afraid to even hope. Stepping into the castle's library only makes her heart sink a little more, and the feeling of hopelessness threatens to swallow her whole.

People may look at her with her graceful features and love for all things makeup and fashion and assume she's an idiot, that brains and beauty cannot go together in one package. But she isn't a ditz. Prior to the Carrows causing chaos and disrupting her learning, she had been ranked in the top ten in her year.

To her, the library is a sacred place. Now, it has been desecrated, left in ruins. Shelves are overturned, some broken with splinters of wood littering the floor. Books are thrown about in various stages of abuse. Some have been ripped, while others are jet black and still smoldering. Seeing it like this feels like a punch to the gut, and all she can do is lean against the wall and take a deep breath that fails to steady her.

"I thought I might find you here." Cormac makes his way to her side, smiling. "Prettiest bookworm I've ever met."

She rolls her eyes. "Really, Cormac? Is this really the time or place for flirting?"

He laughs softly, but she knows his heart isn't in it. Though Cormac still appears cocky and carefree, he's been just as broken by this war as anyone has. "Need a hand?"

That's an understatement, of course. The library needs all the help it can get. Even with the handful of others already working to fix it up, she doubts it will go back to normal any time soon. "I wouldn't mind the company," she confirms.

Two hours later, and she feels like they've barely made a dent. At least it's progress. It will take a lot of rebuilding, but she knows it will be worth it. Truth be told, she would happily keep working on it, even as her stomach begins to growl, but Cormac convinces her to stop.

"You won't be of any help if you pass out from low blood sugar," he tells her.

She scowls. "It isn't that bad."

He shakes his head, a small smile on his lips. "Please. It sounds like an angry dragon is lurking beneath the rubble, waiting for its chance to strike."

Romilda can't help but laugh. It's strange how natural it feels. How long has it been since she's even felt a reason to laugh? But Cormac makes it easy. There's something about him that makes her feel like everything is going to be okay, even if she's still just struggling along.

"Wanna grab a quick bite and have a little picnic by the lake?" he asks.

She starts to tell him no. How can he think of something like that when there's so much work to do?

But she realizes that it's exactly what she wants. They've all spent too much time trading excitement for fear. Isn't it about time she lets herself be happy again? Don't they all deserve a little hope after so much darkness?

"I would love to," she says, taking his hand.

It isn't perfect. Maybe things will never be normal again. But, for now at least, she has a chance to be happy. This feeling doesn't have to be temporary anymore.

It's time to move forward and embrace what life has to offer.