A/N Okay, so deadlines are hard and it's been ten days rather than a week since I posted the first chapter. But I still stand by what I said - deadlines are cool.
Enjoy.
A week had passed since the death of Tom Riddle. Kingsley Shacklebolt had taken up the post of Interim Minister of Magic until such time as an election could be held. It was he who had taken on the task of notifying the families of the deceased. It was he who had banned the Daily Prophet from harassing the survivors, taking on the responsibility of ensuring the newspaper printed the facts.
The wizarding world was left reeling not just from the tragic losses but the heroic actions of Severus Snape. Harry had been adamant that his former professor's name was cleared.
He'd also paid a visit to the Malfoy residence to ensure that the remorse they had shown at the end of the battle had been genuine. He would never forget the risk Narcissa had taken to ensure her son was safe. He used that to clear the Malfoy name.
Hermione lay in bed listening to Ron's snores mingled with the sounds of the chattering birds outside. A sliver of sunlight shone through a gap in the curtains, illuminating the bookshelf opposite the foot of the bed. Staring at the spines of her book collection, Hermione thought of the day ahead.
There was to be a memorial service at Hogwarts, to honour the fallen. She hoped it would provide some closure for herself. She'd barely slept for a week and she was aware of how irritable it had made her. Books, her eternal source of comfort, hadn't helped; nor had the many Weasley dinners. The family was slowly putting itself back together. Of course they were in mourning, but the love and support of one another was clearly helping them; Ron was still eating like a pig, Ginny was still her ferocious self. Charlie and Bill had been a big help for George who was still making fun of Percy. She could still see the sadness in their eyes, but she could also see their togetherness. They were closer now than ever.
Kingsley had promised to help find Hermione's parents once today was over. She was grateful for the offer; she wasn't sure she'd be able to do it alone.
Ron shifted in his sleep, pulling Hermione closer to him. The action made her feel claustrophobic as Ron's arm around her torso was dead weight. She picked his arm up and moved it none too gently onto his own body, waking the redhead up in the process. He nuzzled up to her, leaving a trail of soft kisses along Hermione's neck.
"Stop it," Hermione moaned.
"Ah, come on 'Mione," Ron replied, his voice thick with sleep.
"No, it tickles," Hermione protested, pushing him away.
"Alright, I get it," Ron said, undettered. He moved his focus to her hear, which annoyed Hermione even more.
"Get the hint!" she yelled, getting out of her childhood bed.
Picking up her clothes from the chair under the window, she stormed out, heading for the bathroom to get changed.
Ron lay in bed, bewildered by his girlfriend's reaction. He'd heard from the boys at Hogwarts that witches were responsive to attention on the neck.
"You should start getting ready, Ron," Hermione said as she returned to the room. "We've got to be there at ten."
"It's only half seven," Ron protested, as Hermione opened the curtains, bathing the room in bright sunlight. "I was hoping we could-"
"No, Ron," Hermione interrupted assertively.
"Well, when, Hermione?" he asked, getting out of bed.
Hermione sighed, sick of this conversation already.
"When I'm ready."
"Which'll be...?"
"I don't know Ronald! Stop pressuring me!" Hermione could feel her frustrations boiling up inside of her. Sex had been the last thing on her mind. Ron seemed to be desperate for it, but the young witch felt that there were more important things going on.
"I'm sorry," Ron mumbled, realising he'd pushed too hard. He rounded the bed and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend, who leant her head against his bare chest, silent tears falling down her cheeks.
Feeling the moisture, Ron pulled away to look Hermione in the face.
"Hey," he said gently. "What's wrong?"
"I just don't need this right now. Not today," Hermione whispered after a moment.
"It's okay," Ron replied, kissing the witch's forehead. "You're right. I'm being inconsiderate. I'm sorry."
He hugged her tighter, feeling a complete tool. He'd not meant to upset her.
Two hours later, Ron and Hermione's feet touched down behind The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, having apparated from Hermione's back garden. They proceeded to make their way towards Hogwarts, hand in hand.
Arriving at the castle, they made their way to the Great Hall, which was filled with rows upon rows of chairs, most of them already filled. It seemed as if the whole wizarding community was in attendance. They probably are, Hermione reminded herself.
At the top of the hall, various ministry officials and Order of the Phoenix members were seated, ready to make various speeches, Harry amongst them. Drapes hung from the ceiling, enchanted to cycle through pictures of the deceased.
Ron and Hermione took their seats at the front of the hall, sitting next to Neville on one side and Luna on the other; as Hermione glanced along the front row, it was filled with the remaining DA members.
Moments later, Kingsley Shacklebolt took to the Headmaster's podium, put his wand to his throat to magnify his voice and cleared his throat. The hall immediately went silent.
"Good morning and thank you all for coming. The last twenty years have been a trying time for all of us. Some of you here today don't even know a time of peace. But last week, that changed. By working together, we were all able to come together and rid the world of the biggest evil ever seen. Now that we can all rest easy, we must remember the sacrifices we made to get here. There are heroes that couldn't be here today – our brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, mothers and fathers. And while we'll always remember them, their selflessness must not be in vain. Let's build a new world in which our children and grandchildren and their grandchildren can live and love peacefully."
A round of applause broke out around the hall.
"Before we take a moment of silence for our fallen comrades, Hogwarts headmistress, Minerva McGonagall will read their names," Kingsley continued as the applause died down. He took a seat as McGonagall took her place at the podium.
"The following are the known victims of Tom Riddle's brutal regime of terror. Sirius Black. Broderick Bode. Amelia Bones. Charity Burbage. Colin Creevey. Dirk Cresswell. Cedric Diggory. Albus Dumbledore. Florean Fortescue. Bertha Jorkins. Remus Lupin. Alastor Moody. Rufus Scrimgeour. Edward Tonks. Nymphadora Tonks. Emmeline Vance. Fred Weasley. Nigel Wolpert. Benjy Fenwick. Marlene McKinnon. Dorcas Meadowes. James Potter. Lily Potter. Fabian Prewett. Gideon Prewett.
"Please, raise your wands and take a moment to remember their sacrifices."
Hermione glanced around the hall as she left her seat at the end of the speeches. She was surprised to see an ebony clad figure stood at the back of the hall. She turned her head to alert Ron, but when she looked back, he had vanished. Her eyes scanned the room looking for him, but to no avail. She was well aware of the risks he had taken for the war efforts, but no one had seen him since the final battle. All they knew was that he'd been taken to St. Mungo's with severe injuries.
Shrugging off the disappearance of the former headmaster, she and Ron moved across the hall to speak with Harry and Kingsley, whilst the room was rearranged for lunch to be served.
The day had been trying for Hermione. As soon as she and Ron returned to her childhood home, she immediately went to bed, hoping that she might get some sleep. Ron, of course, slept straight away, probably aided by the copious amounts of Butterbeer he consumed throughout the day.
Hermione still had issues falling asleep however as the words from today swam around her head. Tears fell freely down her face as she remembered the victims who would never see the free world they'd helped create.