Hermione came to a short time later with a monster of a headache. She was lying in the hospital wing with bandages on her forearm and a sticky salve covering her bruises. The place was packed with Healers on loan from St. Mungo's and family of the injured. Several of those sitting around in chairs were staring in shock.

"Take this batch of calming draughts to the Common Rooms," Madam Pomfrey ordered her assistant.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Nia, you're awake."

She looked at Cecilia.

"Who died…?" she whispered.

Who did she get killed?

"Mm…" Cecilia shook her head. "Well, there's been two deaths. Dumbledore and your friend, Marietta. Only one life-threatening injury, but I think she'll live."

"Who?"

"Fleur."

Hermione looked at the bed next to hers and felt her stomach drop. Fleur was still covered with blood. It caked her nails, splattered her clothes, and her face… oh, her face. An assistant was dropping something into the wounds, which were steaming upon contact.

"We were sent to start inventory on that Lost and Found," said Cecilia. "Or really… to check it out for dark artifacts compared to historical artifacts to see who has jurisdiction on it. Curse-Breakers were always going to be involved but anything historical goes to Gringotts archives and dark artifacts are sent to the Department of Mysteries. When we walked in, we ran into those Death Munchers. Don't know how. Do you?"

Hermione sat up, nearly making herself sick from the movement. "Rikki, Tikki."

The elves popped in.

"Yes?"

"In the Room of Things, there's this big cabinet. Triangular shaped, tall, lots of iron."

"The Vanishing Cabinet?" asked Rikki. "We put it in the Come and Go Room when it was declared damaged."

"That's where they came from," said Hermione. "A two-way. They might have fixed it from the other side. Can you and some elves go up and break it again? Smash it into little pieces?"

"Of course, Miss!" said Tikki.

Rikki and Tikki disappeared. Hermione bowed her head and closed her eyes. Hogwarts allowed her to look into the room. About a dozen house-elves entered and found the Cabinet. The door opened and a Death Eater appeared, no doubt intending to stay inside the school to pick off students or even get Hermione. Meenie snapped her fingers and a marble bust soared in behind her, slamming the door shut. The elves used their magic to raise it up and drop it to the ground. They tore it apart, tossing the iron in one pile and the boards in another. The Death Eater was nowhere to be found.

"It's done," she said. She looked over at Fleur who shifted and winced in pain. She then looked at the corner of the room.

A bed had been set up against the wall and a white sheet covered an unmoving form. Char was slumped over Marietta, sobbing softly.

What did I just do? she thought. What have I done?

"Fleur got hit by Greyback when the second wave came through," said Tonks. "He went for Bill first and she lost her mind before he even hit the ground. Flames shooting out the sides of her face and everything. We didn't see what happened next but… we found her on the ground after the fact."

"I'm fine!" Bill snapped, startling them. "I got a bandage on and everything, just let me see my fiancée!"

He waved the Healer away from the injury on his neck and went over to Fleur's side. She was being heavily bandaged, looking much like she belonged on Eyes Without a Face. Hermione moaned and grabbed an unused bed pan to spew into.

"Oh, cielita Nia…"

"I should have seen this," she said, shaking violently. "I should have prevented this from happening."

"Now, Nia. You are many things, but a Seer is not one of them," said Cecilia. "You can't stop every bad thing from happening."

"But—but—I was here! It went sour and I was here and I should have stopped it!" She had a plan. "That's the whole reason I came back! So no one else had to die or have their lives ruined!"

"Nia!" Cecilia grabbed her by the shoulders. "I spent a lot of my formative years watching our family try and fail to prevent those around us from dying. Maybe Tía Manola succeeded for now, but we're all going to lose people sooner or later. Life is hard, messy, and unpredictable. Ours especially so. And you are much too young to try and bear the weight of the world on your shoulders. You didn't let those bastards in and you didn't push Dumbledore off the Astronomy Tower."

She did though… Hermione stared down at her hands. Char… She looked over at her girlfriend and shakily got up. She needed to go to her. But how could she offer comfort? It was her fault. She dodged the curse without care of who was behind her.

"Where is she?!" A woman ran into the Hospital Wing. "I was told to come because of my daughter. Is she ill? Will she be alright? I shouldn't have pushed so hard, but N.E.W.T.s are dreadfully important. She must understand."

"Ms. Edgecombe," said Madam Pomfrey, stepping forward. "Please… come with me."

She led the poor woman to the back of the room. Hermione wished she hadn't woken up so she didn't have to hear her wails. No. It was her fault. She couldn't ignore the pain she had inflicted on this human being. She would bear it for the rest of her life.

"Miss Chang, take this," said Madam Pomfrey. "Why don't you return to your dorm and rest? I'll send someone along to check on you."

"Char…" said Hermione softly. She wasn't sure she actually spoke.

Char snatched the bottle and took off, shoving past Hermione. Still weak, Hermione fell against one of the beds. She let her emotions drag her down the rest of the way. What could she do? How could she offer comfort?

What had she done?

~o0o~

Everyone was in a state of shock following the attack. Nobody could give or get a straight answer. The only ones who knew what exactly had happened and why were Hermione and Draco and neither of them were about to speak up. As far as anyone knew, Hermione had seen the Death Eaters attack the Aurors and Curse-Breakers and raised the alarm before joining the fray.

Hermione told Tonks that they were likely going to use Draco as a scapegoat based on what she learned about Tom Riddle's Diary and its circumstances. So, she and Cecilia went to get Ms. Black and take her to an undisclosed location even though she had been staying at Grimmauld Place when she wasn't at work. Not a day too soon as Antiquities and Oddities had caught fire an hour later, nearly taking the surrounding shops down with it.

When the hospital wing was cleared out save for Fleur, Bill, and Hermione, the other Weasleys arrived. Hermione wasn't all that injured, but the fact that she was despondent unless she needed to explain something worried Madam Pomfrey and so she was kept under observation.

In this moment, she was keeping herself busy by scrubbing the dried blood off Fleur's nails with a brush and some warm saltwater. It had been over two days, why hadn't this been done yet?

"Bill, are you alright?!" Mrs. Weasley cried, practically flying into the Hospital Wing.

"I'm alright, Mum," he said. "Just a scratch. Nothing to worry about."

"But—Remus said it was by Fenrir Greyback!"

"Yeah, I know. Madam Pomfrey already told me the side-effects," he said. "I might be a bit more aggressive during the full moon, maybe some wolfish tendencies. I'll want my meat bloody, and there's some chance that I'll have heightened senses. Smelling, hearing, or sight. Fleur got the worst of it. Just look at her."

The bandages were removed after the skin had been healed more. Fleur was… well… ghastly. She had long, deep scars running from her temple to her jaw and her cheeks were pitted from where Greyback gored her. She even had a chunk missing from her upper lip, giving her a permanent snarl. She hadn't woken up yet, but perhaps that was a good thing. Every time the medicine was applied to her wounds, consistently done every two hours, she moaned in pain. Werewolf injuries couldn't be healed. Not completely, but with a couple jélvre gel face masks, Fleur at least wouldn't be in pain every time she made a facial expression.

"Oh… oh the poor dear," said Mrs. Weasley. "I suppose… the wedding's off then, isn't it?"

Bill stiffened and looked at his mother. "Why would it be off?"

Mrs. Weasley had the sense to look abashed.

"Well… I just mean… given the circumstances."

Bill's face fell. "Oh, God… she might blame me for not protecting her, is that it? I let myself get caught off guard and Fleur paid the price. What would she want with a useless husband who can't even protect her?"

He plunked down in the chair and hung his head in his hands, on the verge of a breakdown.

"That isn't what I meant, Bill."

"And what do you mean?" he challenged.

"Well… just…"

"What, that I was only with Fleur because of her looks?" he demanded angrily. "That she somehow had me under a veela spell? Not everyone has to use entrancement charms or love potions, Mum!"

Mrs. Weasley flinched.

"Well, what sort of woman has to ask a man to marry her?"

"The sort who knows what she wants and isn't afraid to be direct about it," Bill retorted. "Yeah, Fleur asked me to marry her, but I said yes because she's my soulmate. I've never fit with anyone so well. You always told me to follow my heart and now that I am you suddenly have a hundred different girls you'd rather see me settle down with. You pushed Tonks towards me. Tonks! She's our cousin!"

"Bill, calm down!"

"I will not!" He jumped to his feet. "Fleur has been trying to get you to like her for almost two years now and you haven't once given her a chance! She is clever and skilled and wonderful. This isn't a great tragedy, it just shows how brave she is and if you still can't see it then… then… then don't bother coming to the wedding!"

Fleur moaned in pain and grabbed onto Hermione's hand, her hair flickering with flames. Bill took a deep breath and returned to his seat, taking Fleur's other hand. He ran his knuckles along her uninjured jaw and her hair died down.

Mrs. Weasley inhaled sharply and left the hospital wing. Charlie, Percy, Fred, and George shuffled uncomfortably. Hermione said nothing and went back to quietly scrubbing the blood away.

"Nia," said Percy. "I'm afraid I'm not entirely here for my family. The Minister of Magic wanted me to talk to you."

"What for?"

"Well, word is you were able to manipulate gravity only on Death Eaters," he said. "And in doing so helped in the capture of most of them."

"Not the ones who killed Dumbledore." She looked at him. "Please tell me the one who killed Marietta is getting the harshest penalty possible."

"Yes." Percy sent a nervous look at Fleur and set his chair in a way so he wouldn't have to look at her. "It's no secret you're a very powerful witch. All the captured, those who survived the fall anyway, have been screaming about the terrifying and unkillable "Dragon Lady" and telling interrogators anything they want to know so long as she isn't brought in to torture them."

"Funny how reputations work."

The corner of his mouth quirked. "Rumor has it that Dumbledore was setting you up to be his… successor in a way."

"Interesting. How on earth did they come to this conclusion?"

"Well, how else would you be able to do all this?"

"Dumbledore did nothing except belittle me," she said. "He put blind faith in a man who deserved none and he was killed for it."

"Yes, there's an order out for Severus Snape's arrest."

Hermione sighed heavily. "So what do they want?"

"Nobody does what you do, Nia," he said. "Not even Dumbledore did what you did. I mean… in six years of school, look at what you achieved. Successful cases against the Wizengamot, you rescued those people from that book, started that organization, liberated house-elves, the goblins are providing wands to new students now that Ollivander is gone because the law states Magical Beings can't carry a wizard's wand. There's none about them making wands. The Centaur herd sent a message to the Ministry saying that if they ever wanted to renegotiate, to send you. You could be an asset."

Hermione leaned back in her chair, translating that statement. "The Ministry wants to use me."

"Yes," Percy said, matter-of-factly. "They're offering protection, money, and training from the best Aurors in the field."

"Yeah, and who owns the Ministry? The wealthy assholes who think themselves elite."

She couldn't. Not even for personal gain. Let them track her every move, send her on wild goose chases. Keep an eye on her and manipulate her so she couldn't dismantle the system. That if she was in their league, then they would hope others to follow and they'll keep the people compliant while the world falls apart around them.

"I'll put this in the most polite terms I can so you don't lose your job."

"Fuck if I care about my job."

"Percy, language!" Bill barked out of habit, then he looked shocked. "I didn't think you were physically capable of swearing."

"Tell the Minister that I am not on the side of institutions who try to buy my silence," said Hermione. "I'm on my own team."

"I thought that might be the case," Percy said. "What are you going to do? Every Death Eater we could get to talk said their mission was to hunt you down and kill you. True they are terrified of the Dragon Lady now, but there will be more."

"I'll be alright. I've got places I can go and hide out at."

"What about school?" Fred asked, sitting down on the empty bed next to her. "Will you go back?"

"No. I don't see how I could possibly return safely." She looked up. "Madame Maxime and Professor McGonagall are speaking in the Headmasters Office. I should speak with them."

"Now? What for?"

"Well… there's a surefire way to tell who a student is and trace them to their exact location. The Book of Admittance."

Percy gasped. "Oh no…"

"Yes. Perhaps you should come with me, Percy, I might need backup on this one."

"Yes, of course." He stood and followed her out of the Hospital Wing.

The halls were eerily quiet. Everyone was in their Common Rooms. Talking. Processing what was happening. She caused this. She should have stayed out of it. They pulled the trigger, but she had provided the gun.

Hermione and Percy approached the gargoyle. It still bowed and stepped aside. She wished it hadn't. Percy said nothing as the staircase took them up.

When they entered the office, still crammed with Dumbledore's things, Professor McGonagall and Madame Maxime looked up from their conversation.

"Miss Granger," said Professor McGonagall, surprised. "Mr. Weasley. What brings you here?"

"I wanted to talk to you two about something," said Hermione.

"Yes, of course, have a seat."

Hermione sank into one of the chairs in front of the giant mahogany desk and folded her hands in her lap like she was about to be scolded.

"Professor," she said. "I fear that the next Defense teacher might be a Death Eater plant."

"Yes, I had surmised that as well," said the old witch. "I'm taking on the role as Headmistress. In that event, we need to also hire another Transfiguration Professor. You might do well to search for a new school, Miss Granger."

"You are a clever witch," said Madame Maxime. "If I can have the acceptance board overlook your… issues… you could have a place at Beauxbatons."

"I'm more concerned about future students," said Hermione. "The Book of Admittance… if Death Eaters do take over the school, I worry they could steal the book, look up on accepted students. Find them, kill them… or worse… Rip them from their families and raise them as slaves or fodder."

Professor McGonagall paled at the thought. "We… we can't close Hogwarts. It would just be opened up again."

"Can the Book of Admittance be recreated?" asked Percy.

"No. No, the book is as old as the school itself." She was certain of that much. "Its creation is long lost."

"I think we should have Madame Maxime take the book," said Hermione. "Purebloods will be sent to Hogwarts regardless, the point is to protect the No-Majs."

"How will we get them there?" asked Madame Maxime.

"We took down a large chunk of Our Good Friend Morty's forces," said Hermione. "This summer, I think, will be a bit calm while he recuperates. We have time to seek out families, let them know of their child's abilities, figure out a way to get them to Beauxbatons, even if it means borrowing a ship from Castelobruxo. I think by the time things get bad again, they'll be safe out of the country. As of right now, Morty is Britain and Ireland's problem. He can't risk going to other countries, he'll be made by the I.C.W. before a move can be made. It's the sad truth, but as of now, he's not a big enough threat for us to receive outside help."

"You make a good point, Miss Granger," said Professor McGonagall. "Mr. Weasley?"

"I agree with her," he said. "Who knows how long this war will go on and the last time there was a war, didn't parents send children where they would be safe? Even if it meant a different country?"

"I will accept and protect them," said Madame Maxime. "No Death Eaters will dare set foot in my school as long as I am Headmistress."

"I had hoped you would say that," said Hermione. "We'll hide the book right away. I think the quicker it's done the better."

She brought out two IMNs. She'd made some extras. A lot of extras, actually.

"Here," she said, sliding them over. "These are two way communication. Secret, safe. Correspond with each other. I think it will make it easier to smuggle people out if we happen to come to that. You can send along anything as well as long as it can be smushed flat."

"Clever magic," said Madame Maxime, the book minuscule in her massive hand.

"I hope it won't come to this," said Hermione. "But we have to be prepared for every option."

"Miss Granger…"

"Yes, Professor McGonagall?"

"Did Severus really kill Dumbledore?"

"I saw him cast the Killing Curse with my own eyes," she said. "Draco was dragged along with them under threat. Luckily, I was nearby to rescue him. Snape is already banned from HQ."

"And where will you go?"

"The fewer who know the better, but I'll be gone after the funeral and… I won't be returning. I'm sorry to drop out like this."

"No, don't apologize, I understand," she said. "When all is said and done, you are welcome to return and take your N.E.W.T.s."

"Thank you, señora. It's worth noting that I might leave at any time. Frankly, I wonder if I should attend the funeral at all. So many people… it's a good opportunity for an attack."

"I see your point," she said. "Well then, perhaps it be best I give you what Dumbledore intended to bequeath to you."

Hermione furrowed her brow. Why would he leave her anything? He wanted her to mind her own business. He tried to erase her memory. What sort of game was he playing? She didn't understand.

Professor McGonagall rummaged around a chest before bringing her a small, leather bound book.

"An original copy of the Tales of Beedle the Bard," she said, giving it to her.

Hermione took the book and flipped through it, wondering if the pages had been carved out. Instead, she found an insignia on the inside. That crest. It was the Peverell crest seen on that ring Marvolo wore. She hummed and placed it in her bag.

"Thank you," she said. "I should get back to the hospital wing. Madame Maxime… Fleur is in the hospital wing if you'd like to visit her. She got attacked during the… the invasion."

The giant woman's eyes widened slightly.

"But of course. As soon as Minerva and I finish our conversation, I will check on her."

Hermione nodded and left with Percy.

"Well, you hardly needed me at all," he said.

"No, it was better for the backup," she said. "You're the Minister's assistant, so there's this unspoken agreement that you speak for him. I just needed you there to make my point. You won't actually tell anyone anything."

"Ah, I see." He rubbed his neck. "I'm not even sure I want this position anymore. I thought Minister was what I wanted but… I don't know anymore."

"You know, I think it's silly to have to decide what we want to do with our lives at this age," said Hermione. "Will you tell Madam Pomfrey that I'll be back?"

"Yes, of course. Where are you going?"

"Can't say."

She left him there and went down to the anchor stones. There she saw Draco with his sleeves up to his elbows, scrubbing away furiously at the circle they had drawn. His hands were red and chapped and she couldn't remember ever seeing him work this hard. Neither could Hogwarts.

"Hey," she said.

"Did we do the right thing?" he asked, checking that it was coming away.

"I don't know," Hermione admitted, kneeling down to help him scrub. She would need to take care of the pool one, too. "I think it was the necessary thing. Your mum's safe with my family."

"Will that be far enough?"

"Morty is weakened right now. A huge chunk of his followers are in Azkaban, not to mention the ones in his inner circle Cedric and I killed—allegedly killed," she quickly amended. "I don't see him making any drastic moves soon. Though I worry about some of those captured. They're not from around here."

"He's probably going to try and recruit from elsewhere," said Draco. "Get more followers."

"Most likely, but then perhaps the I.C.W. will take him as a more serious threat." Hermione looked at his Dark Mark. "That's not a homing beacon, is it?"

"No." He seemed mostly certain of that. "Only if we touch our wand to it."

"Mm. I'll see about getting you something so it doesn't keep hurting you." She brought out an IMN. "Here. We'll keep in touch, but I think you're best staying in hiding with my family."

Draco took the notebook and stared at it a long moment before looking at Hermione.

"I owe you my life."

"No thanks. I've seen your life and I'm not interested."

He swatted at her. "That's not what I mean! According to the Code, I have to stick with you until my debt is repaid. Until I save your life or thirty years have passed."

"Code?"

"There's a Code elite purebloods follow. Those that don't… the Dark Lord will make sure they do now."

Hermione ran her thumb along the bristles of the scrub brush. "You'll have to tell me more about that. If it'll help you maintain your honor then fine, you can tag along. Just know that you'll eventually be spending a lot more time with Harry and Ron."

He made a face and shuddered.

"I will never be their friend," he said.

"That's alright, as long as you remain an ally."

Draco sighed and looked at her. "What will you do? Come back to school?"

"No. I think I'm going to spend whatever time I can training. Learn new skills, things like that. Can't save the world if you don't know how to mend clothes, perform first aid, plant identification, or field dress an animal."

"What does putting an animal in a dress have to do with survival?"

Hermione sighed. "Oh, you sweet summer child." She returned to scrubbing. "You know, the shelter my family runs is really nice. I saw it myself. Our architects are always expanding on it and it passes the burrito test."

"The what?"

"You can get up and make a burrito at midnight without getting stopped," she explained. "At least… if you're over fifteen. Anyone younger has a set bedtime."

"And what's a burrito?"

"You take a tortilla and you can fill it with meat, beans, rice. Sometimes you can smother it with a crema like an enchilada."

"And what's an enchilada?"

"So… so you take a tortilla and you can fill it with meat, beans, and rice and you roll it up like a flauta. And then you cover it with a crema or a salsa."

"What's a flauta?"

Hermione made a face while Draco stared at her.

"Okay… so you take a tortilla—" She paused and looked up. "Fleur's awake. Also, Astoria is looking for someone. I think it must be you."

Draco turned pink. "Where is she?"

"Library." Hermione got to her feet and held out her hand.

He looked at it and accepted it so she could haul him to his feet.

"You're really strong, you know that?" he said.

"You're just skinny, Duckie."

He sighed at the nickname. "This is going to be a long thirty years."

"Darn skippy."

"If you ever say that again, I'll throw you off the Astronomy Tower." He picked up the bucket and dumped the contents washing away the remnants of the circle before banishing it.

Hermione left him to search for his girlfriend while she went to the hospital wing. Along the way, she brought out her video camera, checking that it had a new tape in it. he didn't know what she'd need it for, but it felt weird not having it ready. All the Weasley boys were standing around outside one of the hospital wing bathrooms while Ginny and Luna stood off to the side, watching them make fools of themselves.

"What'd I miss?" Hermione asked.

"Well, Fleur woke up," said Ginny. "Felt her face, saw her face, and then she locked herself in the loo. Bill's been trying to coax her out."

"Fleur, my darling, please come out," Bill pleaded.

Fleur's incoherent sobs replied.

"They're quite bad at this," said Luna.

"We tried pushing on the door, but it won't budge," said Charlie.

"It's hopeless." Bill stepped away. "Mum was right about the wedding. I should've protected her and I failed. What would Fleur want with a man as useless as I am?"

"Ugh, Bill, stop being so pathetic," said Fred.

"It doesn't suit you," George chimed.

"Yeah, who cares if Fleur's ugly now?" said Charlie. Hermione, Ginny, and Luna hissed and Charlie paled. "Er, that's not what I meant!"

"Yeah?! What do you mean? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN?!" Bill tackled him before he could dig himself into a hole.

"And now we see the Cain instinct in action," said Hermione, focusing on them with her camera.

Somehow, the other boys got into the brawl. Ginny took the camera from Hermione and egged them on. While they were distracted, Hermione pulled open the bathroom door to find Fleur huddled in a corner, hiding her face in her hands. She closed the door and locked it, then sat down on the floor next to her friend.

"Look away, I'm hideous!"

"There's a quote by Roald Dahl," said Hermione. "'If a person has ugly thoughts, it begins to show on the face. And when that person has ugly thoughts every day, every week, every year, the face gets uglier and uglier until you can hardly bear to look at it. / A person who has good thoughts cannot ever be ugly. You can have a wonky nose and a crooked mouth and a double chin and stick-out teeth, but if you have good thoughts it will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely.' And you are a person who has good thoughts and good actions, Fleur. You are more than your appearance."

"B-b-but… William…"

"Has been by your side for almost a week, taking care of you and waiting for you to wake up," she interrupted. "He even yelled at his mum about it."

Fleur lowered her hands and looked at Hermione, her eyes shining. "He did?"

"Bill loves you. He's going mad out there, thinking that you hate him for letting you get hurt like this."

"But I don't! It wasn't his fault and I would take Greyback a hundred times if it meant keeping him safe."

"I know, but don't tell that to me, tell that to him. Come on, girl. Pick your tits up."

Fleur broke into a fit of giggles. "Pick what up?"

"Your tits. Come on, one boob at a time. You know why? You're Fleur Delacour! You're a professional duelist and a grade-A badass broad! You go tell the future Mr. Delacour you love him!"

Fleur laughed and wiped the snot from her nose, "I'm taking his name, Nia."

"What for?"

"You are right. I am going to keep my man! No matter what anyone else says!"

"Boo-yah!" Hermione stood and helped Fleur to her feet.

Fleur carefully washed her face, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open, stepping out just in time to see Ginny standing on one of the beds. The youngest Weasley roared with primal fury and jumped onto the pile, knocking her brothers to the ground like bowling pins.

"Get 'em honey!" said Luna, now holding the camera.

"You know, maybe it's a good thing my sister and I didn't grow up together," said Hermione. She stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled sharply.

The seven of them froze mid-brawl. Bill pushed up from the bottom of the pile and stumbled over to Fleur. Half his hair was pulled out of its tail and his clothes were rumpled and he had scrapes and blossoming bruises.

"And here I thought you were the responsible one," said Hermione, clucking her tongue and swiping her finger. "Shame, shame."

He flushed as red as his hair, but didn't tear his eyes away from Fleur. She gently touched the bandages on his neck.

"I wouldn't take it back, William," she said. "I would do it again and again, because I love you. I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you." She tugged the rest of his hair free from the elastic and smoothed it out with her nails. "And maybe you'll get used to this face one day. It isn't pretty, but—"

Bill pulled her in and kissed her soundly. When they parted, he pressed his forehead to hers and looked deep into her eyes. "You will always be the most beautiful woman in the world."

Tears flooded her eyes. "Oh, mon chou!" She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him again.

Hermione nodded and turned to the others. "Come on, out. Maid of Honor says: shoo!"

There was much grumbling as she herded the Weasleys and Luna out. Mrs. Weasley, who had returned at some point, sniffled and dabbed her eyes with the scarf around her neck.

"They are perfect together," she said and looked at the rest of her kids. "Do I want to know what happened to you six?"

Hermione took her camera back from Luna while the Weasleys shuffled and muttered half-explanations that went nowhere to explain their bedraggled appearance.

"If you have been fighting again…"

Percy pulled an ink bottle out of his satchel and smashed it against the wall, screaming, "SCATTER!"

They all ran in different directions. Except for Hermione.

"What was that?" Mrs. Weasley asked wearily.

"You know how siblings are," said Hermione. "One minute they're enemies, the next they're the best of friends."

She nodded. "My brothers Gideon and Fabian drove me absolutely mad." She sighed. "I'd give anything to have them back. They would have loved Fred and George's joke shop."

"I bet."

"No, no! Out!" said Madam Pomfrey. "I need to check my patient over."

Bill was pushed out of the hospital wing.

"Howdy," said Hermione, making a finger gun. "Bang."

Bill smiled sheepishly. "Hey, Mum. Have a good nap?"

"Yes, but now I'm wondering if all my children can stand being left in a room together unsupervised," she said sternly. "Most of you are of age, how can you still fight like this? And you, Bill. You were always a little adult!"

"The Cain instinct is undeniable, Mother."

"Who's Cain?!"

"Er… no idea."

Hermione popped her lips. "I think I oughta check on Char. See ya, Bill."

"Hey, Nia?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks," he said. "I am definitely naming you godmother of our children."

"Yeah, no problem." Hermione headed up to Ravenclaw Tower.

Her good feelings slipped away as guilt set in. She couldn't look at herself in the mirrors she passed. She dragged her feet. The eagle let her in without a riddle, signaling that Hogwarts had not rejected her entirely despite her atrocities. People looked up from their clusters, but didn't demand to know why she was there. Instead, they bent back to whispers and rumors. Hermione went down the stairs to Char's dorm and knocked on the door, finding it slightly ajar.

"Who is it?"

"It's me." Hermione stepped in.

Marietta's bed was still there. Her posters, her jewelry, her clothes and books were scattered around the room. Her sheet music for the Choir was still on her bed and her pet frog was chirping in its tank.

Char looked up from her reading chair. She looked terrible. Her hair was lank and greasy, her eyes were sunken in, and her pajamas were rumpled.

"I… wanted to check on you," said Hermione. "I'm sorry, I didn't sooner. It's just… It doesn't matter. I know what you're going through."

"No you don't," she said coldly. "You have no possible idea what I'm going through!"

"I've lost people, too."

"I didn't lose Marietta!" Char stood up. "Cedric chose to leave you! You chose to abandon your family! Marietta was taken from me! She was my best friend and there is no chance of me ever seeing her again! She's gone!"

Hermione looked down at her shoes. "Why were you two there?"

"She just wanted to help to make up for telling about the D.A. I told her we should stay out of it, but she didn't listen. I couldn't let her go in alone. I thought we'd be stronger as a team and… and then…"

What could she say that wouldn't make this worse? Char continued on without prompting.

"There were so many Death Eaters! I thought you were supposed to be able to stop them from doing this, Nia!" Char's voice grew more hysterical. "Why didn't you stop them?! Why didn't that spell hit you?!"

Char gasped at her own words and clapped a hand over her mouth as tears spilled down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't… I didn't mean it I just… Why did she have to die?"

Hermione felt any chance they could have had crumble away. She would have been fooling herself anyway.

"It was my battle," said Hermione, face stony despite the anguish and guilt roiling inside her. "I was supposed to protect you and I didn't. I will carry that guilt with me for the rest of my life. I'm sorry to have hurt you like this."

"If you hadn't ducked, Marietta would still be alive."

"I know."

Char fell into herself and sobbed into her knees.

"Just go away! Please, just leave me alone!"

"Char…"

"LEAVE!"

Hermione did, closing the door behind herself.

"The foundations are trembling."

Hermione looked over at Luna.

"I sense a great agitation," Luna continued. "Mercury has gone into retrograde. However, we can always count on it to turn around."

"Make sure Char eats something, Luna," said Hermione. "She doesn't want to see me. It's probably for the best. I didn't do my duty."

"It wasn't your fault."

But it was.

And no one could ever know.