The Harry Potter universe and all characters therein belong to J.K. Rowling. I gain nothing from this except my own enjoyment, and hopefully yours too as the reader.

A.N. This is just a short flashback chapter that came to me in the shower yesterday morning, and it's one I hadn't previously planned. The main story will continue in Chapter III, which hopefully should be up in the next few days. Forgive my strange convoluted ways, it will all make sense in time (I hope).

Also, the title of this story comes from the song Smokers Outside the Hospital Doors by Editors, obviously slightly adapted to a magical context. Give it a listen if you fancy. - TBWTAS

P.S. If anyone is interested in being a beta reader for me, please give me a shout! I can only proofread my own work so many times before I start to miss things/go crazy.

Chapter II – So Your Eyes Can't See

Sunday, 3rd May 1998

Harry and Hermione sat leaning against an old willow tree by the Great Lake, the battle-scarred castle that housed their erstwhile school at their backs, with wisps of dark smoke from fires yet to be extinguished rising starkly into the blue afternoon sky.

It was over.

Harry had defeated Voldemort and his followers were all dead or captured, save two or three Death Eaters who had made good their escape early on in the fight, as soon as it became clear the tide was not in their favour. After the long, tiresome year spent hunting Horcruxes, the final reckoning with the Dark Lord had proven remarkably anti-climactic.

Having learnt from Albus Dumbledore's portrait that the last splintered piece of Voldemort's twisted soul resided within Harry himself – information Hermione would never forgive the former Headmaster for withholding – it then was dreadfully clear that there would be no resolution to the conflict were Harry not to die first.

After an abridged-by-circumstance period of anguish, tears, and denial, Hermione had pulled herself together to the best of her ability and begun to plan the aftermath of what, to her mind, would be the worst moment of her life. Correctly surmising that Voldemort would be at his weakest following the destruction of the sole remaining Horcrux, Hermione and Ron had trailed a short distance behind Harry as he made his way to meet his fate in the Forbidden Forest, intending to strike against their nemesis once he was truly mortal again.

Barely suppressing her heart-wrenching cry when Harry fell to Voldemort's final Avada Kedavra, Hermione had stepped from behind a tree and fired the strongest blasting spell she could summon at the Dark Lord's chest, while Ron had done similarly but instead took aim at his head. With the all-consuming anger and grief that resided within them both at that moment, the wizard formerly known as Tom Riddle had hardly stood even the slightest chance.

As the circle of followers surrounding the evil mage dissolved into chaos at the demise of their master, Hermione's heart had soared as she saw Harry drag himself by the elbows behind a boulder and begin to fire off hexes into the crowd of panicked Death Eaters. With her and Ron providing support from their own hiding places and only adding to the confused mayhem, the dark witches and wizards fell one-by-one in short order.

The main attack on the actual castle had been conducted by Voldemort's non-human allies and once the Dark Lord had been slain it was as if a binding spell had been broken. Trolls, banshees, vampires, and werewolves began to take flight in all directions - the powerful dark magic compelling them to fight had died alongside the evil being that had first performed it.

Losses for the Light side had been comparatively few, with Hogwarts proving an excellent defensible position, especially against those who could not physically channel the magic needed to penetrate the castle walls. Flaming boulders let loose by troll-operated catapults had proved the greatest danger, with the extent of their damage evidenced still by the smokestacks lazily rising behind Harry and Hermione.

The pair had been at a loss of what to do on the day following the battle. Madame Pomfrey had very promptly shooed them from the Hospital Wing as soon as they wandered in to ask if they could help with the injured, and they both thought it best to leave the Weasley family to their grief for the time being. Percy Weasley, having at long last seen the error of his obstinate ways, had arrived at the castle to fight only have his jugular vein severed by a werewolf scant minutes later. His family had been holding a vigil at his body since the cessation of hostilities, and Harry had not wished to intrude, even though the Weasleys were as close to his own family as he could call anyone.

So, it came to be that, on the morning after the end of the great struggle, Harry and Hermione found themselves alone in the Hogwarts' grounds, both gazing across the Great Lake to the mountains beyond. Hermione had nestled comfortably into Harry's side, with his left arm draped around her shoulders and his head resting atop hers.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, feeling his cheek pull back into a smile against her hair.

"It's over," Harry said simply. "I'll never have to worry about any of this bollocks again and if that's not something to smile about, then fuck me, I don't know what is."

Hermione cosied deeper into the crook of Harry's shoulder, amused by his profane frankness, while also permitting herself a small grin at the thought that yes, finally it was finished. They could get on with their lives, in peace and, most importantly, in happiness.

The pair were stirred from their comfort by the sound of faint thuds behind them, and Hermione turned her head reluctantly to see the youngest Weasley son aimlessly kicking a tuft in the grass with his hands in his pockets and an uncomfortable look on his face.

"Ron!" She exclaimed, gently nudging Harry with her elbow to make him cognizant of their other friend's presence while standing up from where she was ensconced at his side.

"The house-elves are putting together a feast, it should be ready in about half an hour," Ron began, hesitantly. He continued, "Mum told me I should come get you both for it. It took me a while to find you so we really should be getting back."

Ron's finishing sentence came out pointedly and not a little accusatory, as he stared at the spot by the tree where Hermione had been so comfortably leaning into Harry.

"Yes, yes, of course, Harry and I were just enjoying the late afternoon sun..."

Hermione stood to her feet and brushed the grass and other natural debris off her jeans before holding out her hand to Harry, who was still sitting with his back up against the old willow. He glanced at her outstretched hand and then at Ron, before briefly shaking his head.

"You go up guys, I'll be there in a bit."

"Oh, well. If you're quite sure," she replied. Turning to Ron, she could have sworn she saw the faint tug of a smirk at his lips as he moved to put his arm around her waist. They had decided quite recently that they were going to give the whole relationship business a fair shake, but for some reason her brow furrowed slightly at Ron's demeanour, though he had done nothing ostensibly wrong.

She received a reassuring smile from Harry in response to her plea not to be too long, but that was not what caught Hermione's attention. She saw a look in Harry's eyes that she never had before, or perhaps merely she'd never noticed. In any case, his green eyes blazed as he stared at Ron's arm tightly clamped around his other best friend. She could almost perfectly identify the emotions successively flashing through his bright gaze: jealousy, envy, resentment. As he turned his head back up to look at Hermione, the look changed, and what she saw shocked her. Passion, want, yearning, and something else that she could not quite identify, but nonetheless was no less intense.

Realising she had noticed his silent display, Harry flashed another small smile and waved the other two off in a dismissive but good-natured manner, telling Hermione he'd be right behind them.

Ron seemed impatient to get out of earshot of Harry, and once they had walked a hundred yards or so it became clear why.

"I know you and Harry have always been… touchy-feely," he began hotly. Hermione barely managed to keep from rolling her eyes. "But we're together now and I don't think it's right for you two to keep doing stuff like what you were doing at the lake. I mean, really Hermione, what would people think…"

As they ambled further towards the castle and as Ron continued to expound his views on appropriate platonic physical contact, Hermione found herself tuning both him and her surroundings out. Her mind was caught on the look, or rather looks plural, she had witnessed in Harry's eyes. She could recognise most of the feelings contained within that intense stare, bar one, perhaps fiercer and more burning than the rest.

Oh fucking hellish buggering sod, she thought as her feet failed her and she came to an abrupt halt. It was love. Harry loves me.

"Hermione?" Ron was staring almost angrily at her. "Have you been listening to a bloody word of what I've been saying?"

Her head turned and she saw right past Ron and down to the lake, where she could still just about spy the tree her and Harry had been leant against. Her heart began to flutter before being arrested by a feeling akin to an emotional kick to the gut.

I chose the wrong man.