A Light Rekindled -1 Month Later:

The cottage was cold and dim, the light seeping through the cracks in the boarded windows casting long, eerie shadows across the floor. Draco stood in the doorway, staring at Hermione's hunched figure. She was a ghost of herself, crumpled in the corner of the small living room, arms wrapped around her knees. Her hair was tangled, her clothes rumpled, and her eyes—Merlin, her eyes looked dead. Hollow. As if something essential inside her had been ripped away.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. The closer he got, the clearer the tremor in her shoulders became. She was shaking, barely holding herself together, and it tore at something deep inside him.

"Hermione," he murmured softly, kneeling down beside her. He reached out a tentative hand but hesitated, unsure if he should touch her. "Please. You have to—"

"Go away," she whispered, her voice brittle and broken. She didn't look at him, didn't even acknowledge his presence beyond that single, cold command.

Draco's throat tightened, and he forced himself to continue. "You have to pull yourself together. I know it hurts—I know it feels like the end of everything, but you can't—"

"Isaid, goaway," she snapped, her voice sharper now, laced with something dangerously close to rage. She lifted her head, her eyes blazing with fury and grief. "I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to see you. Justleave me alone."

"Hermione, I'm begging you, don't do this," Draco pleaded, his voice cracking. "Don't let the war take this from you. Don't let itbreakyou."

Her face twisted, a bitter, almost hysterical laugh bubbling up from her chest. "Break me?" she repeated, her voice high and breathless. "It already has, Draco. Don't you see?" She gestured wildly around her, her movements erratic. "Look at me! Look atthis! I'm nothing. There's nothingleft!"

"That's not true," he insisted desperately, leaning forward. "You're still here. You're stillyou. And we need you, Hermione—Ineed you."

"You?" She barked out another harsh, humorless laugh. "Youneed me? For what, Draco? To watch me fall apart? To remind you of everythingyoudid wrong?"

He flinched, the words hitting like a physical blow. "No, that's not—"

"You're aDeath Eater, Draco!" she screamed, her voice shaking with fury. "You and your father and—and all the others—you're thereasonwe're in this mess! You're the reason people aredead! Harry, Seamus, Dean—everyone!" Her chest heaved, her face flushed and wild. "I never should have trusted you. I never should have believed we couldwin. It was all lies—all of it!"

Draco's heart twisted painfully. "I'm not—Hermione, I'm not a Death Eater," he whispered, his voice raw. "I turned my back on that. Ikilledmy father for this war. I—"

"No!" she shouted, cutting him off. Her eyes blazed with hatred, her face twisted in anguish. "Don't you dare try to justify yourself to me! Don't youdare!"

he swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep speaking even as his own pain and anger clawed at him. "I know what it's like," he said quietly, his voice shaking. "I know what you're feeling. I've lost people too. I lost myfamily—my mother, my aunt, my—"

"I don'tcare!" she screamed, her voice breaking on a sob. "I don't care about yourfamily, Draco! I don't care about any of it! All I care about is thatHarry is dead, and it'syour fault!"

The words hit him like a knife to the chest, and for a moment, he couldn't breathe. He stared at her, his eyes wide, the pain in his heart so intense it was almost blinding.

"Hermione, I—"

"Get out!" she shrieked, her hands coming up to shove him away. "Get out, get out, getout! I hate you! Ihateyou!"

Draco stumbled back, his vision blurring with tears. He stared at her, at the shattered girl he had once known, and felt something inside him shatter as well.

Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, his movements stiff and jerky. He backed away, his chest heaving and hands shaking. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice choked. "I'm so, so sorry…"

But Hermione didn't hear him. She had already turned away, curling in on herself once more, her shoulders shaking with heart-wrenching sobs.

Draco stood there for a long moment, staring at her, his heart breaking. Then, without another word, he turned and fled the room, stumbling blindly into the hallway.

Ginny was there, hovering just outside the door, her face pale and drawn. She looked up as Draco emerged, her eyes widening in concern.

"Draco—"

"She's—she's not listening," he snapped, his voice short and bordering a shout. "She—she thinks—she hates me, Ginny. She—"

"I know," Ginny murmured softly, stepping forward to place a gentle hand on his arm. "She's hurting. She doesn't mean it."

"Shedoes," Draco whispered, shaking his head. "She does. And she's right."

"No," Ginny said fiercely. "She's not right. You're not a Death Eater, Draco. You'reone of us. You've been fighting with us. You're trying to—"

But he shook his head again, cutting her off. "It doesn't matter. None of it matters anymore."

Ginny's expression softened, a flash of understanding in her eyes. "What are you and Theo planning?" she asked quietly. "I heard you two talking. You're going after the snake, aren't you?"

Draco froze, his heart skipping a beat. "Ginny, I—"

"You're not going alone," she interrupted firmly. "You're notdoingthis alone."

"Yes, we are," Draco said, his voice low and urgent. "We don't have a choice. We can't—she can't—"

"She needs you," Ginny insisted, her eyes blazing. "Even if she can't see it right now, sheneedsyou, Draco. Don't leave her."

Draco stared at her, his chest tightening painfully. "She's never going to forgive me," he whispered. "Not for this. Not for—for Harry. For—"

"She will," Ginny said softly. "She just… she just needs time. Don't give up on her."

But Draco shook his head, a bitter, broken smile twisting his lips. "It's too late for that," he murmured. "It's too late forallof us."

And then, before Ginny could say another word, he turned and walked away, his heart heavy with the weight of everything they had lost.

Back in the living room, Hermione sat alone, her sobs echoing through the empty house. She didn't notice Ginny watching her, didn't notice the way the younger girl's eyes filled with tears. She was too lost in her grief, too consumed by the pain tearing her apart.

She was pushing everyone away—pushing away the last few people who still loved her, the last few who still cared.

But she was too broken to realize it.

Too shattered to care.

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The cottage was dark and quiet, the atmosphere tense and suffocating. Theo stood in front of Hermione's bedroom door, his face etched with frustration and anguish. He leaned his forehead against the rough wood, closing his eyes as he tried to keep his emotions in check. The room beyond was silent, the only sound the faint rustling of Hermione's movements on the other side—if she moved at all.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked softly. "Hermione," he called, his voice thick with desperation. "Hermione, please. Just—just talk to me."

No answer.

Theo clenched his fists, his heart aching as he imagined her curled up on the other side of the door, broken and lost. She hadn't been herself since the Battle, since Harry's death. They had all lost something that day—friends, comrades, family—but she had lost the most. She had lost Harry, and with him, a piece of herself.

But what hurt the most—what tore Theo apart—was watching how her grief was destroying Draco. His best friend, his brother, was unraveling right before his eyes, and no matter what Theo did, he couldn't fix it.

"Hermione," he tried again, his voice softer now, pleading. "Please… you have to come back to us. You have to—" He paused, swallowing hard. "You're hurting him, Hermione. You're hurting Draco more than you'll ever know."

Still no answer.

Theo let out a shuddering breath, pressing his palms against the doorframe as if he could will her to open it. "He sleeps outside your door every night," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Even when you refuse to see him—when you won't even look at him—he's still there. He'salwaysthere. Because he loves you, Hermione. Because he's terrified that if he leaves, you'll—" He cut himself off, his throat tight. "You're breaking him, and he—he's barely holding it together as it is."

The silence stretched on, suffocating and empty.

"Please," Theo begged, his voice raw. "Just… just come back to us. Justwake up, Hermione. We can't—we can't lose you too."

But the door remained closed, and Theo stood there for a long, agonizing moment, his heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid.

Finally, he turned away, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He didn't notice Ginny and Luna lingering in the shadows of the hallway, their eyes watching him with shared pain and worry.

"Is she…?" Luna whispered softly, glancing between Theo's devastated face and the closed door.

Theo shook his head, his gaze distant. "She's not herself," he murmured, his voice hollow. "She's not… she's notHermioneanymore."

Ginny's jaw tightened, her expression hardening. "Then we need to make her remember who she is."

Luna nodded, a determined glint in her eyes. "We'll talk to her," she said quietly. "We'll remind her of what's at stake. Of what'sleft."

Theo looked at them, his gaze desperate. "You think it'll work?"

Ginny lifted her chin, a fierce light in her eyes. "It has to."

The room was dim when Ginny and Luna slipped inside, the air thick with the oppressive weight of grief. Hermione sat on the floor beside the bed, staring blankly at the wall. She didn't move when they entered, didn't acknowledge their presence. She was a shadow of the girl she used to be, hollowed out and empty.

"Hermione," Ginny said softly, kneeling in front of her. "Hermione, can you hear me?"

No response.

Ginny bit her lip, her chest tightening. "You need to snap out of this, Hermione," she said, her voice low but firm. "You need towake up. This—this grief, this pain—it's going to destroy you."

Luna nodded, her gaze gentle but resolute. "We need you, Hermione. Draco needs you."

At the mention of Draco's name, a flicker of something—pain, guilt, anger—flashed in Hermione's eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by that same numb emptiness.

Ginny leaned closer, her voice urgent. "You're not the only one who's hurting. You're not the only one who's lost someone. Harry—Harry is dead, and he's never coming back." Her voice cracked, but she pushed on, determined. "But youstillhave people who love you. Draco loves you, Hermione. And you're—"

"Stop," Hermione whispered, her voice so soft it was barely audible. "Just… stop."

"No, I won't," Ginny shot back, her eyes blazing. "Because you need tohearthis. I lost the love of my life, Hermione. Harry'sgone. He'sdead, and he's always going to be dead. But you—youstillhave Draco. Youstillhave a chance. And if you don't wake up—if you don'tdosomething—he's going to get himself killed, and then you'll lose him too."

Hermione flinched, her face contorting in pain.

"You're pushing him away," Ginny continued, her voice shaking with intensity. "You're pushing all of us away. And if you keep doing that, you're going to end up alone, Hermione.Reallyalone. Is that what you want?"

Tears welled in Hermione's eyes, but she didn't speak. She just stared at Ginny, her chest heaving with silent sobs.

"He and Theo are planning something," Ginny whispered, her voice softening. "I heard them talking. They're going after the snake. They're going to kill Nagini on their own because they think—because they think theydeserveto die trying."

Hermione's breath hitched, her eyes widening in shock.

"They're going todie, Hermione," Ginny said, her voice breaking. "And they'll die believing it's what theydeserve. And when they're gone—when Draco's gone—you'llbe the one who's left. You'll be the one who has to live with it."

Something shifted in Hermione's expression, a spark of clarity piercing through the haze of grief. She looked up at Ginny, her eyes wide and wild. "Draco's—"

"He's going to leave," Luna said softly, stepping forward. "Unless you stop him. Unless youfightfor him."

Hermione's gaze darted between them, panic and confusion warring on her face. For a moment, it was as if she didn't recognize them—as if she didn't recognizeherself. And then, slowly, something clicked.

"He—he's going to kill the snake?" she whispered, her voice shaking. "He's going to—"

"Yes," Ginny said fiercely. "And if you don't wake up and pull yourself together, he's going to get himselfkilled."

Hermione stared at her, her mind reeling. She felt as if the world had been turned upside down, as if everything she thought she knew had been ripped away. But underneath the grief, the fear, the guilt, there was something else—something sharp and bright andalive.

Determination.

Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet, her movements shaky but resolute. "We have to—we have to stop them," she whispered, her voice trembling. "We—we have to—"

"We will," Ginny promised, her eyes fierce. "We'll stop them. We'll go after them, and we'll finish what Harry started."

Luna nodded, a small, hopeful smile on her lips. "We're not alone, Hermione. We still have each other."

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, something like hope flickered in Hermione's eyes. She took a deep, shuddering breath, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

"We're going to end this," she whispered, her voice low and fierce. "We're going to kill Nagini. And then… then we're going to killhim."

Ginny and Luna exchanged a glance, a shared determination in their eyes.

"Yes," Ginny murmured. "We are."

And with that, the three of them turned and slipped out of the room, a plan already forming in their minds.