Disclaimer: I don't own HP.
It's hard to be happy when death has ravished your loved ones. This was all Hermione could think as she sat crosslegged on the Quidditch pitch of the burrow, her fingers pulling up grass as she felt the heat of the sun on her face. Hermione of thought of bygone summers where Harry the Weasley children played Quidditch until the sun had set and Mrs. Weasley called them in to wash up for dinner. She would sit in the very spot she occupied now, trying fiercely to read whatever book laid across her lap, but failing miserably as she was wrapped up in the laughter of a game between loved ones. Sometimes, one of the boys would convince her to play a game a two, and she would hover tensely over the pitch on the oldest and slowest broom the Weasley's had to offer. Hermione never knew that she could miss Quidditch so much. It was May 9th and Voldemort had fallen a week before. Or rather, Fred, Professor Lupin, Tonks, and countless others had fallen a week before. Today, the Weasley's had buried a son. Hermione felt as though she had lost her own brother. In the month's long quest with Harry and Ron, she had never thought about how hard victory could be.
Harry.
Her best friend in the world, another brother who she had almost lost that night. Her heart swelled with love for Harry, who had saved them all.
Ron.
The other boy who she was happy to call her best friend. Ron, who was hurting so deeply over the loss of his elder brother. Hermione subconscienly turned her head to look at his bedroom window. She loved him. She loved him the way her parents loved each other, the way Mr. and Mrs. Weasley loved each other, the way she was sure Harry's parents had loved each other. Hermione removed her fingers from the grass and lightly touched her lips. She had kissed him and it was the greatest thing she had ever felt. She greatly wished to kiss him again, to tell him she loved him, to cry into each other as grief overcame them. And yet, she felt as though a barrier had returned. The very barrier that was so briefly broken in the time between their kiss and learning of Fred's death.
"Hermione!"
She was broken from her reverie as her name was yelled. She looked up to see Harry jogging towards her, changed into jeans and t-shirt.
"Harry!," she said as she smiled warmly up at him. She began to stand but Harry firmly shook his head no and sat down beside her.
"I thought perhaps we could talk before dinner. It's been a long week." Hermione nodded silently in agreement with a grimace.
"So...," he began, "how are you feeling?"
Hermione's light laughter trilled, and the still summer day seemed to come alive.
"Harry!," she giggled.
"What!," was his slightly fruatrated reply.
"Only Harry Potter, the renouned chosen one, would ask me how I'm feeling after defeating a notorious dark wizard. The real question Harry, is how are you?"
Harry suddenly took a deep, heavy sigh. In seconds, Hermione watched as he seemed to age forty years.
"I'm tired Hermione," he said with a quirk of his lips and a shadow on his too old brow. "I always thought that when I killed Voldemort there would never be any more darkness. I'm finding that instead the light still hasn't come. I feel like I'm tiptoeing around the Burrow. Everyone seems to treat me like a savior while also mourning for Fred and it's uncomfortable. Ron is so angry and sad and I don't even know what to say to make him feel better. He's my best bloody friend and I can't make it go away."
Harry and Hermione sat next to each other, taking in the gravity of a world where more loved ones were gone.
"I want to move to Grimmauld Place," he said suddenly. I've been thinking on it for a few days now. I want to go and make it my home. The kind of place that Sirius always wanted it to be. I'd really like to honor the Marauders. I wish I could take Ginny with me, but the Weasley's need their children to stay close for now."
Hermione nodded in agreement as Harry continued. "I think I'll tell them at dinner. I won't leave so soon but I think it's important they know now. Maybe you can come with me when I leave and help me fix things up."
"Well Harry," she said. "I have my own news to share at dinner tonight." Harry looked at her curiously. "Kingsley approached me after the funeral. He said he'd spoken with the ministry in Australia and that I had their support in reversing the memory charge on my parents."
Hermione took a deep breath. "He said I could leave as soon as Monday."
Harry ran his fingers through his messy black hair as he took in the news. "Surely you won't go so soon?"
"I miss my parents Harry," she said sadly. "We've lost so many, this is my chance to get something back. Sometimes Harry, when I close my eyes I'm laying on the floor of Malfoy Manor screaming. Other times, I'm screaming your name and Hagrid's holding your body."
Hermione sighed wistfully, her face filled with longing, "I just want a hug from my mum."
"Yeah," said Harry with a similar expression, "I know the feeling"
A/N: I haven't written a fic in years, and never one for this fandom, but this story scratched at my brain so we're doing it. multichap here we come.