That night Hermione had a hard time getting to sleep. The cut on her neck was irritating and tender. She was generally able to tune it out, but perhaps she'd caught up on enough sleep, that the irritation of it kept her awake. Her thoughts kept slipping back to Malfoy Manor and she kept deliberately thinking of something else. She began conjugating verbs in Ancient Runes.

The gray light of dawn was creeping into the room when she woke in a blind panic. Bellatrix was behind her with the knife and Greyback was in front of her. She was squeezed between them and he clawed her breasts and licked the side of her neck as Bellatrix slit her throat and called her a Mudblood. She was on her feet and running downstairs with the walnut wand gripped tightly in her hand before she was fully awake. She burst open the kitchen door and ran outside before dropping to her knees to retch against the back wall of the garden.

xXx

Ron gave up trying to sleep at dawn. He'd tossed and turned all night. When he went into the kitchen, Percy was staring out of the window over the sink. "Morning Perce," Ron said and reached for the tea pot. It was empty.

"Is there a reason your girlfriend is getting sick in the garden?"

Ron hurried to look out the window.

"Has she been doing that a lot?" Percy asked.

"What? No. I mean, I don't think so," Ron said.

Percy frowned at him. "Tell me you two have been careful."

"Careful about what?" Ron asked as he watched Hermione retch against the wall, and then it dawned on him what Percy meant. "Hey, we're not…we haven't…"

At first, Percy's frowned deepened and then his expression changed to one of concern. "Ron," he said gently. "I read the Ministry report about the goings on at Malfoy Manor. When she was separated from you and Harry, was she…interfered with?"

Ron's mouth dropped open. "No! Of course not. They only had her for like…twenty…" The realization that anything could have happened in those twenty minutes dawned on him. He knew Bellatrix had cast Crucio, but beyond hearing that and Hermione screaming, he had no idea what had gone on in that room. Surely, he would have noticed at Shell Cottage...but maybe not. He recalled Greyback's comments about her and felt sick as he pushed past Percy and went out the back door.

Hermione was sitting on the ground with her back against the wall and her wand in her hand when he reached her. She'd clearly cast a charm to clear away the sick since none was in evidence. "What are you doing out here?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said. "Just sitting."

He frowned at her. "I saw you from the window."

"Oh," she said, but didn't offer any explanation.

"So, did Percy," Ron added.

"Great," she said. "What a nice way to start your day."

"Better than the way you started yours, I'd say."

She gave him a half smile.

"Why are you sick?"

She shrugged one shoulder. "Bad dreams."

"So bad they made you vomit?"

She glared at him. "Clearly. Could we stop talking about it please, or I'm going to go again."

Ron squatted in front of her. "Percy thought…" He hesitated.

"What?" she asked.

"He thought I might've…that you could be, because he assumed that you and I were…but I said we hadn't…"

Hermione gave him confused look and then raised her eyebrows in realization. "Are you trying to say he thought I might be pregnant? Because he saw me vomit once? What is wrong with your family?"

Ron could feel his whole head go red. "Well, yeah, but when I said we hadn't…then he said…"

Hermione sat up straighter. "He said what?"

"He said he'd read the report on…you know…the Manor…he asked, if while we were separated, you'd been…" He swallowed hard. "Interfered with."

"Interfered with?" she said, frowning. "What a ridiculous way to put it. Only a man would say something so stupid."

He looked at her and forced himself to say the actual words. "Were you raped?"

"No," Hermione said. "I'm fairly certain that was part of Greyback's plan for me, but it didn't happen."

Ron ran a hand down his face. "I hate that bastard. I wish someone had managed to kill him in the battle."

"Me too," Hermione said, "but no one found a body, so I guess he's still out there."

Ron came forward on to his knees and sat back on his heels. "I'm sorry. I should have asked earlier."

"I would have told you," she said.

"Really?"

"Yes," she said. "I think I would have, if not immediately, then certainly the other night. I mean, I would've needed to say something, before we…" She made a kind of circular gesture between them. "If I'd been hurt that way."

Ron tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "I'm glad you weren't."

"Me too," she said.

"It was awful enough as it was," Ron added.

"Yes," she said quietly.

"Are you feeling better now?" he asked. "We could go inside. I could make you some tea."

"That would be nice."

He stood and held out a hand to her. She took it and he pulled her to her feet, and didn't let go of her hand as they walked back to the house.

Percy was at the table when they walked into the kitchen. He raised his eyebrows when they walked in.

"Not in the pudding club," Hermione said to him. "Just sick this morning. Not that it's any of your business."

"Then why mention it?" Percy asked.

"Because I know this family and you'd all be speculating by lunch if I don't nip it in the bud right now."

He laughed. "That's certainly true. It's impossible to keep a secret around here."

"Isn't that the truth," Ron said, setting a cup of tea in front of Hermione.

xXx

An hour later, they were attending their first funeral of the day with Harry and Ginny. Ron didn't know the man they were burying. He was a half-blood that worked in the kitchens at the Leaky Cauldron. Ron tried to pay attention but he found his mind wandering back to his earlier conversation with Hermione. Despite the grim topic, it had been the best conversation they'd had since before the battle. In comparison to recent days, it had been a pretty good morning, which was disheartening. He really needed to raise the bar on what constituted 'good.' Of course, it was hard to do that when most of his days were spent at funerals. He felt like an automaton at the receptions, standing next to the other three, shaking hands, saying the same sorts of things that he'd said before, often to some of the same people. The magical community was pretty small. Despite that, the other three seemed to bear up under the pressure of all this grief just fine. Harry was like a rock star. People just seemed to want to touch him and have him speak to them. Ginny stood at his side like she was born to the role. Meanwhile, Hermione stood in quiet elegance, speaking softly and compassionately to everyone as she shook their hands. If it hadn't been for the solemn circumstances, she could have been running for office. Ron watched her make a connection with person after person and couldn't help wondering if one day she really would stand for election.

xXx

Hermione stood next to Ron shaking hands with the attendees at the last funeral of the day. She was exhausted. The constant contact with strangers was incredibly draining. She didn't know how the others were managing it, but Harry seemed to be able to offer the same level of compassion to every person who walked up. If his plan had been to cement his place in the hearts of the entire magical community, he couldn't have chosen a better method. They loved him. They loved that he came to all the funerals, but without fanfare. They loved that he stayed to shake hands and speak to everyone who wanted to speak to him. If he decided to run for Minister of Magic tomorrow, she was sure they would have waved the age restriction without hesitation. She marveled at his composure. She was also impressed with Ginny. She stood next to Harry as a quiet reassuring presence. She shook everyone's hand, but let Harry take the lead on everything. He was the star and she was happy to let him shine. Ron too, seemed to know exactly what to say to the people who approached. He had a lot of his mother's natural warmth and his father's reassuring presence. In short, the other three handled all of this beautifully. Meanwhile, she felt stilted and awkward. She shook everyone's hand, repeating the same trite phrases over and over. She was rubbish at this. All she wanted to do was fall into bed and hide under the covers. She was somewhat disturbed to realize she wasn't sure which bed she was referring to, and had the sinking suspicion she was thinking of the bunk in the tent, which was, of course, long gone. She considered, for a moment, that in London, in her old attic bedroom, hidden under a complex concealment charm was her actual bed. She smiled warmly as an old witch reached for her hand. All that would have to wait.

xXx

After the last funeral of the day, they went back to the Burrow to change before heading to Diagon Alley to help clean Percy's flat. The Burrow was uncharacteristically quiet when they Apparated into the back garden.

Ginny looked at the house. "Is anyone home?"

"Dunno," Ron said. "Maybe they all went to Percy's."

"Is it possible we have the house to ourselves," Ginny said in a kind of gasping awe. She looked at Harry with undisguised desire. "Oh, please, let it be empty."

Ron and Hermione glanced nervously at each other, but then they heard Mr. Weasley come out of the chicken coop. He was carrying a basket of eggs. "Hullo," he said. "Your mum's just taking a cake out of the oven if you're hungry. The others are all at Percy's."

Ginny let out a quiet groan. "I'm going to go get changed."

"Me too," Hermione said and followed her inside.

"Hi Mum," Ginny said as they walked into the kitchen. She kissed her mother's cheek. "We're heading up to change."

"There's cake," her mother said.

"I'll get some when I come back down," Ginny said and headed upstairs.

Molly looked at Hermione. Hermione smiled. "I'll take a piece now."

Molly smiled weakly back at her and handed her a large piece on a small plate.

"I'm starving," Hermione said.

"I know," Molly fretted.

Hermione started to protest that she hadn't meant it seriously but Ron and Harry came in. Ron kissed his mother's cheek and took a piece of cake and handed it to Harry without asking if he wanted it, then he took a piece for himself. A moment later, he was extolling the virtues of said cake while shoveling it into his mouth.

Hermione finished her piece and went upstairs to change.

Ginny must have veered off into the bathroom. A couple of minutes later, she came into the room where Hermione was changing. She closed the door and leaned back against it. "I'm about to crawl out of my skin."

Hermione sat on the edge of her bed. "Really, because you seem to be handling everything in your stride."

"What are you talking about?" Ginny said. "I'm terrible at all of this. I just stand around at those funerals like an idiot saying the same things over and over. Meanwhile, it's impossible to get any time alone in this house and I feel like I might actually explode."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said. "I've invaded your room."

"What? No," Ginny said. "I'm not talking about that. I'm happy to have you here." She pulled off her funeral robes and tossed them on her bed. "I'm talking about time with Harry." I haven't had any time alone with him since the night after the battle and it's starting to make me a little crazy."

"I know," Hermione said.

"I tried sneaking up there a few times this week, but every time I went out on the landing there was someone walking up or down the stairs. No matter the hour, someone in this house is always awake. It's infuriating."

"I know," Hermione commiserated.

Ginny pulled on a pair of jeans and flopped back on to her bed. "I'm so sick of being sad all the time. I just want a little escape. Is that so much to ask?"

"No. I think we'd all like that."

"Yeah, except Mum and Dad have each other and Bill and Fleur have each other and the rest of us are just rattling around in this house getting in each other's way." She huffed angrily and got up and yanked on a T-shirt. "The last time I had a decent night's sleep was next to Harry and I'm fairly certain that was the last good sleep he got. I swear, if I was of age, and had any money, the first thing I'd do is book a room at the inn."

Hermione snorted softly.

"What?"

"And the next day it would be all over the Prophet that you two were seen at the Leaky Cauldron taking a room together."

"Fine," Ginny grumbled. "We'd stay in a Muggle hotel somewhere then. They work the same as an inn, right?"

"For the most part," Hermione said.

"I just want some time alone with him, a few of hours, for just us."

Hermione snorted. "At this point, I'd settle for ten minutes."

Ginny threw a pair of socks at her. "I'm not just talking about a shag. I feel like there are all these unfinished conversations we need to have."

Hermione sighed and tossed the socks back. "I know. We'll get there. The funerals won't last forever. Ten more days. We'll get Percy settled in his flat, he might even stay there tonight. Bill and Fleur will eventually go home. Charlie plans to go back to Romania soon. George…well, I don't know what George will do."

"I know," Ginny said. "Me either. Have you noticed he hasn't shaved since the day of Fred's funeral."

"Yeah, do you think he's growing a beard, or just can't be bothered?"

"I'm not sure," Ginny said. "But I think I'm going to ask him. I'm really worried about him. He barely eats anything and we have enough skinny people wandering around here."

Hermione frowned at her. "I'm eating."

"Not enough," Ginny said. "Harry either."

"We just need to get through the rest of the funerals. Ten more days. Ten more days and things will get better." She really wanted to believe that.

xXx

Percy's flat was crowded. With nine people working, it didn't take long to clean up the small, one-bedroom flat, despite the fact that it had been thoroughly vandalized. All the furniture and lamps were broken. Books were shredded and scattered about. Everything had been pulled out of the kitchen cabinets and dumped in the floor. The bedding was torn and "Blood Traitor" had been painted in what looked like blood in large letters across one wall of the parlor.

When Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny arrived at Percy's flat in Diagon Alley the others were already repairing things and cleaning up. Bill and Fleur had almost finished getting the blood off the wall. When they were done, they went to get food. Ron and Harry helped George and Percy repair furniture. Hermione and Ginny helped Charlie clean the kitchen. In less than an hour, they were done, and the flat looked fairly normal. Bill and Fleur returned with pizzas and beer.

"I'll have to buy new bedding," Percy said. "And restock the kitchen."

Everyone tucked into dinner. There wasn't a big enough table or enough seating in the small flat, so everyone just picked a spot and sat down. After they had all eaten their fill and started on second and third beers, Bill and Fleur decided to head back to the Burrow.

After they'd left, George said, "I wish the Aurors would clear the shop. I'd really like to get in there."

"They should get to it soon," Percy said. "They started with homes of Ministry employees because they really need all hands on deck right now."

"I know," George said. He rubbed his head. "I should get a haircut."

"Me too," Percy said. "I feel like I'm starting to resemble a shrub."

Harry snorted beer out of his nose and everyone laughed.

"Hermione can do it," Ron said. "She's been doing ours all year."

"You know how to cut hair?" Charlie asked her.

"I know a trimming spell," Hermione clarified. "It's not like I'm a barber. I can't do different styles. I can only trim the cut you have now."

"Would you mind?" George asked. "I'm not ready to go to the barber. He never could tell Fred and I apart and I'm not up for explaining how that won't be a problem from now on." The others all looked sadly at each other.

"Of course," Hermione said.

"Alright then," George said, getting to his feet.

"Does this mean you're going to shave too?" Ginny asked.

"No," George said. "I'm growing a beard. Makes looking in the mirror a tad easier."

Everyone exchanged sad glances.

"Stop," George said. "Fred would hate all this moping about. I'm not going to stand here and pretend this is easy, because it's not, it's…" He sighed. "But I'm not the one who's dead, so it seems wrong not to get on with living." He pulled a stool over from under the bar that separated the kitchen from the parlor. "Come on then, Granger, give me a trim."

Hermione got to her feet and George sat on the stool. She took her time, running her fingers through his hair and looking carefully to see how it grew and to make sure it would look right considering he was missing an ear.

"Mmm," George said. "Ronnie is a lucky man, she has magic fingers this one."

Hermione swatted him softly on the shoulder. "Stop. I have to see how your hair grows or I'll botch the spell."

"I don't recall you ever running your fingers through my hair like that before you trimmed it," Ron grumbled.

"That's because I know how your hair grows," Hermione said.

"Well, it's divine," George purred. "Percy you should ask her to do you next."

"Stop," Hermione muttered again, glancing at the scowl on Ron's face. "Or I'll shave you bald."

George smirked and she raised her wand and flicked it. "Ah," George said and quickly ran his hand over his head, relieved to find he still had hair. He slipped off the stool.

"That looks good," Ginny said. She looked at Harry. "You're a bit shaggy too."

"Yeah, alright," Harry said, taking George's place on the stool.

Hermione's wand was up immediately and a moment later, Harry's hair was trimmed.

"That didn't seem as fun," Charlie said, "Budge over, Harry. Now me." Harry moved and Charlie took his seat.

"I've trimmed Harry's hair so many times, I don't even have to think about it," Hermione explained.

Charlie gave her a big grin. "But not mine."

She gave him a sharp look, but carefully inspected his hair anyway, using her fingers to see how it fell. Charlie let out a happy moan, winking at Ron as he did so. Ron's face grew redder.

Hermione sighed and flicked her wand and Charlie's hair was neatly trimmed. Percy happily took his place. "Since you offered," he said.

"Did I offer?" Hermione asked. She frowned at Ron, who seemed practically apoplectic.

"Wait," Percy said. "My hair is different. Do you know how to trim curly hair?"

Hermione folded her arms across her chest. "Seriously? You're asking me if I know what to do with curly hair?"

"Oh," Percy said, blushing slightly. "Right. No. I suppose…well, carry on."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but moved around him inspecting his hair carefully.

Percy closed his eyes and smiled at the feel of her fingers on his scalp. "This is nice."

"Oh, for goodness sake," Hermione mumbled.

Ron reached for another Dragon Scale. As Hermione shifted in front of him to look at the back of Percy's head, Ron said, "Those aren't your jeans."

Hermione didn't look at him. "No. They're an old pair of Ginny's." She raised her wand and cast the spell to trim Percy's hair. "You're all set," she told him.

"That looks really good, Percy," Ginny commented, glancing at Ron.

"Why aren't you wearing your own jeans?" Ron asked and took another gulp of beer.

Hermione cast a spell to clean up all the hair on the floor. "These fit better."

"You mean tighter," Ron said.

Hermione could feel herself blush. She was conscious that everyone was watching them. "I'm going to go."

"Why?" Ron said, getting to his feet.

"I'm tired," Hermione said, and started for the door.

"All I said—" Ron started as he reached for her arm.

She yanked her arm away from him and went out.

"Hey," he said, following her.

"Ron!" he heard Harry call behind him, but he ignored him, and followed Hermione outside and on to the street.

"Oi," he shouted after her.

She turned around. "What!" she shouted.

"Where are you going?"

"Away from you!"

"Why, all I said was—"

"All you said, all you said," she sputtered back at him. "You don't have the right to say anything. You volunteer me to trim everyone's hair and then whinge about how I do it. You spend months complaining about my clothes not fitting, I wear one pair of jeans that actually fit and you tell me they're too tight. Too tight! Are you serious? What is wrong with you?"

"I…nothing…I mean…I don't…you were…they…why did you have to…"

"Me? Me? You know what, Ron? Fuck you!" She Disapparated.

Ron stood in stunned silence. Hermione Granger had just told him to fuck off. He'd made Hermione say fuck and not in a good way.

He looked down at the bottle of beer in his hand and threw it as hard as he could down the alley, smashing it against a brick wall. He'd had about six of the bloody things and was now too drunk to Disapparate. Unwilling to face Harry or his family, he walked down to the Leaky Cauldron to take the Floo back to the Burrow.

When he stepped out of the kitchen fireplace, the house was dark. It was after midnight and clearly, Bill and Fleur and his parents had all retired for the evening. He went upstairs to Ginny's room and quietly knocked on the door. There was no answer. He knocked again and then opened the door a crack. "Hermione," he whispered, but there was no answer. He opened the door all the way. She wasn't in there.

He sighed and leaned against the doorframe. He'd promised himself he was never going to comment on her weight again and he'd gone and done it. Where was she? He dug the Deluminator out of his pocket and stared at. "Say my name," he whispered to the universe hoping she'd hear.