Author's Note: We're back at it again. It seems I have finally fallen back into a writing mood during quarantine which I am very thankful for. Thank you to everyone that is still sticking with this story in spite of the sporadic updates.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor am I making any money off this story. Just my take on a more realistic war very WW2 meets HP.

Warning/Trigger: This is a realistic war story. This is rated M for many reasons, it is dark and has many sensitive subjects throughout. Please use caution before reading.

"All right, we're back together again. What the hell do we do next?" ~Stephen King

August 1st, 2000

Hermione was smiling as she and Ginny organized the meal. It was odd to have food at their disposal because of the charmed pantry. It was little things like that they had to be thankful for, doing charms before magic was monitored never seemed like a big deal, but now it was saving their lives.

Ginny had taken over quickly getting things ready for Harry's birthday party. He had celebrated the actual day alone in his room with his red headed girlfriend, but she had insisted on doing a dinner with everyone the next day.

He'd been insistent that no one celebrate. Too many people were dead or missing, he didn't feel like throwing a party. Hermione could understand, in the little time she'd spent with her old friends her guilty thoughts about Anna had hardly gone away. When people were dying what right did they have to celebrate?

Ginny saw it differently. The trio was back together and that alone was cause for celebration. Hermione had made it safely back to them and for all they knew a great deal of their family was still alive. That was what the young girl had to keep telling Ron at the very least.

The redheaded boy had become obsessed with the idea that their entire family was dead. Despite Bill travelling to America Ron was sure he was dead. If Ron's imagination was correct he, Ginny, and George were the only Weasleys left. His stubbornness had only become worse when Hermione arrived at the cottage.

When she brought the concern up to Ginny the redhead agreed that Ron's attitude had shifted. He wasn't acting like the rock she had known him to be in Traitor Town. She was worried that he was digging himself into a hole he'd never be able to retreat from and Hermione agreed. Ron's only happiness seemed to come from his brother and sister, his anger towards Hermione even began to bleed over to Harry on his really bad days.

Hermione was doing her best not to let him affect her attitude towards the safe house. Without the fear of her safety she finally had time to sit and care for her leg properly. Now when she walked there was no pain, and no limp. She was sure it would take a little while longer before she could run, and she'd never be back to the same speed she had once had but it was a start.

She couldn't help but watch as Ginny hustled around the kitchen stirring the contents of bowls and moving things from one area of the kitchen to another. Hermione had never really gotten into cooking or baking, especially with the last few years of her life, but Ginny clearly took after her mother. As much as Harry would complain about making a fuss over his birthday he wouldn't be able to complain about the food.

Sadness washed over Hermione as she thought of how similar Ginny was to her mother. A true mother hen, this war had taken so many opportunities from the young woman it was honestly a shame Ginny wouldn't get the chance to have a baby of her own anytime soon –though there was a small part of Hermione's mind that argued they'd all be dead before the thought of children truly occurred to them. With Ginny running around the kitchen making a fuss Hermione could for just one second pretend that everything was normal, that a gang of children would come running down the stairs at any moment.

"He'll appreciate the cake, I think." Ginny said more to herself than Hermione.

"Of course."

"And the soup will be good, pitiful birthday dinner, but it'll do."

"He'll love it." Hermione lied.

Harry would tolerate the food and the small dinner. He'd pretend they weren't celebrating his birthday. No it was just another day, and to him that would make the meal bearable. But Hermione also knew that Ginny wanted this to be like a real party.

"He's getting better," Ginny said sitting her stirring spoon down, "soon we'll all be back out there ready to fight. Is it really so bad of me to want one night? I get that people are dying but people die every day and there's nothing we can do about it right now. According to Ron my whole family is dead but George and I are still going on. I just, I need… I need Harry to keep going on."

Hermione just nodded, slowly. It all made sense but she didn't think Harry would see it that way. He was incapable of realizing how lucky they were, incapable of being happy with his survival. For Ginny to have her Harry back they needed to defeat Voldemort.

"Harry'd be getting on fine if we'd just stayed behind all them years ago." A voice came from the kitchen doorway.

"Ronald!" Ginny warned.

"No," his voice was slurred ever so slightly, "she pulled us away from everything and Harry didn't see then that she was wrong. But he sees now, now he sees."

Hermione bit her bottom lip looking down at the ground. There were times that Ron could be civil with her, but it always came back to the Battle. He believed to his core they could have won, and while Hermione would always wonder she knew for certain they were alive now and that's all she could care about.

It wasn't as if he stayed in the same room with her for long anyway. Once they left the safe house she knew it was something they would need to figure out but for now she'd let him have his say and storm off. It was easier than fighting him on the subject, or maybe the Town had just made her weaker, maybe she was less willing to fight after everything she'd been through.

It wasn't as if she ever really explained to any of them what she had been through. Harry had been tortured, Ron had been in isolation, George had lost his twin, Ginny… well Hermione suspected Ginny had been violated so what did her tale do? They knew horrors, reiterating those horrors would do nothing to bring them closer. Nearly being killed, being the cause of her friends death, and the death of more innocent people –Hermione imagined that was just more that Ron would hold against her at this point.

Part of her hoped he just needed to get all his hatred out, and maybe since she'd been separated from them she was the easiest target. She had cared for him once, loved him before the war took such a terrible turn, she wasn't ready to accept the idea that he truly hated her yet. When all was said and done, when they won the war they were supposed to end up together. No matter how bad his traumatic stress she still wanted to find her happiness with him. She would turn her eyes to the ground and bite her tongue as long as she needed if it meant he'd find his way back to her before the war was over.

Ginny didn't give Ron the chance to say much else, she shooed him from the room quickly apologizing to Hermione again for her brother's behavior. Hermione couldn't help but notice how disappointed the redhead was, the brother she had looked up to in her time of need, the brother who had helped save them all was slowly turning bitter and full of hate. It would be a difficult thing for any sibling to watch.

"You don't need to be so hard on him, I understand where he's coming from." Hermione said.

"You shouldn't have to! You did nothing wrong by pulling Harry away from the Battle, the rest of us understand that. And just because Ron is sure everyone else is gone doesn't make it true, you haven't done a thing to feel poorly about."

"People are dead because of me."

"The Battle doe–"

"Not the Battle. People from the Town, my friend even, they died because of me. So I do have things to feel poorly about, Ginny. If attacking me makes Ron heal faster then let him. We all heal in our own ways, I will survive his."

And she did. For months they stayed cooped up in the small cottage Ron's fury decreasing only slightly over time. Seasons changed but his attitude didn't. Ginny found herself latching onto Harry more and more, George pulled away from the group spending more time alone in his room, which left Hermione to fend off Ron's remarks alone.

It was truly nothing she couldn't handle. Ron was unimaginative and used the same comments often, but Hermione realized as time went on that the remarks had less bite to them as time went on. He still said each hurtful thing he could but she was able to see less fury on his face as he said them. Things had changed so drastically between the two of them and Hermione couldn't even pinpoint when the shift had started, was it when he abandoned them in the woods, or when she pulled them from the battle field? Ron had always been a simple person to read, simple thoughts, simple actions but months in isolation and Hermione still couldn't read him as well as she would've liked.

But still, he was another human being and he was there. It sounded awful in her head when she thought about it consciously. Harry and Ginny mostly stayed secluded in their room, George seemed unamused with any of them, which left Ron as her only company. Anna would've made a good friend during times like these, Leslie even if the girl had managed to escape without the use of the Death Eaters. But Ron was what she had and Hermione refused to lose that.

"Ron," she asked one morning when he was having a good day, "do you actually think we'll survive this?"

"Depends."

"Do you think there's anyone left?"

"We didn't see everyone in the New Town, but most people were. Either a few people are still in hiding or they're dead. Either way I don't see how they'd be much help to us."

Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder relishing in one of the few good moments the two had managed to have since before Bill's wedding. It wasn't as though the red head was always horrible but Hermione had a feeling the horcrux affected him more than she and Harry had realized. Ron was still moody and unpredictable, he snapped for no reason, but some days he was perfectly fine. It was those good days that made Hermione remember why she had ever loved him. Though she was fairly sure those loving feelings had vanished sometime between the Battle and her imprisonment but she liked to remember.

"I know you don't believe me, but I'm scared."

"Everyone is scared. It's a war either we win or lose -and the chances of us winning are slim. You were always reasonable and it's reasonable to be scared."

"Ron, why can't we always be like this?" Hermione asked almost dreading the answer.

Ron stayed silent for what felt like a lifetime. They had been best friends once and now he felt the need to think through everything he said very carefully before speaking. If he didn't take the time to think he always lashed out.

"We're not right for each other. But right now we're all we've got."

Hermione couldn't help if it was some sort of truce or cease fire. Ron had verbally recognized that they needed each other at least for the time being. He could hold on to as much resentment as he felt appropriate as long as he would talk to her again. She knew it was a terrible way of thinking but the only thing she could count on was his presence in her life, and for the time being she needed him to be on her side.

Carefully, as not to upset him, she scooted closer nuzzling into him in search of some kind of support. He didn't bite her head off, or move away but he made no move to be closer to her. She could handle that, she didn't love him anymore so she didn't feel like she needed him to like her very much. But she appreciated that he could at least give her some form of comfort when she needed, and she liked to think she would be able to do the same.