"We were staring each other down while the fight raged around us, and he just sort of snapped. I didn't even know at the time what had happened, but it must have been you conjuring that mirror and causing Bellatrix's curse to reflect back on her."

Harry was recounting the last part of the battle from his perspective. Hermione had been filling him in on some things he hadn't seen as well, but she had caught nothing after the curse hit her.

They'd foregone their former entwining of fingers, favoring laying together, her head on his chest and arm wrapped around him, carefully avoiding the curse wound on his abdomen.

Given her suspicion about the nature of Harry's injury, she needed the closeness more than ever. She needed to feel his chest rising and falling as he drew breath, needed to know he was real, and this wasn't a dream or a nightmare. She wouldn't soon forget the sight of him, limp in Hagrid's arms, but being close made that easier to bear as well.

"That's when Hagrid was killed." Harry sniffled a bit at the memory, still fresh in his mind. Hermione gasped.

"I… I knew that. Someone told me before." She sounded distant, as though lost in thought, trying to recall when she had heard that news.

"I imagine it might have been McGonagall who told you. She was here with Shacklebolt. He's the new minister, by the way."

"Tell me more about that after. I want to know everything that happened."

"He must have thought the same as me. That Tom was gearing up to hit me with something big, and Hagrid just slugged him in the ribs. I've never seen him angry at all, much less that angry… But then Tom just got up and in a flash of green Hagrid fell. Like he was nothing.

"That's when Tom continued to conjure something big and I put up the best shield I could manage. I'm so, so sorry, Hermione. If I'd have tried to deflect it or stop it outright, you'd never have…" he trailed off.

"Harry." She squeezed him gently. "You did what you needed to do to survive, and I'm alright, or I will be… I'm just so glad you came back to me."

"Only to damn near lose you myself…" His voice was ragged, and she didn't respond, but kept hugging him tightly.

"That's when I finally snapped… It was you." He tried unsuccessfully to suppress a sob, but it was no use. With her head on his chest, even if he stifled the sound of it, she knew.

"How do you mean snapped?" She asked quietly, a little scared of the answer.

"I stopped caring at all, Hermione." He replied hollowly.

She lifted her head to look him in the eyes. They were glistening and distraught.

"Stopped caring?" She asked, suspecting, but not knowing for certain what he was trying to say. She'd held a similar sentiment in the castle courtyard before he'd miraculously returned to life.

"You… You screamed. And I know I won't ever stop hearing that sound, Hermione. But it wasn't half as loud as the silence when it stopped." He snapped his fingers sharply. "Just like that, you didn't grow quieter, or trail off… you just stopped cold, and I thought you were…" He trailed off, and her heart quietly broke for him.

She knew all too well the feeling he'd experienced in that moment. The horror, the dread, and the desperation. Hermione resumed her former post, holding him tight and listening to the steady beating in his chest.

"I didn't let myself think too much at that point at all. It didn't matter if I won anymore. I didn't care, not if you were… I just wanted to kill him. I needed to kill him… And if I lost too, then so be it. I didn't need to win, I just needed him to lose. Any remaining thoughts of self-preservation I might have had vanished into that silence."

He took a moment to breathe and wipe his eyes. In the few other conversations he'd had with others, he'd not shared this level of detail. He hadn't been able to, but this was Hermione he was talking to. He could tell her anything, and she deserved to know it all.

"And I'd bet that's when you did something incredibly brave and entirely reckless?" She spoke in a quiet tone, trying helplessly to lighten the mood a bit.

He actually laughed, and it shook her head a bit when he did. The sound of it made her heavy heart feel lighter than a feather, and she grinned to herself.

"You know me so well, Hermione." She could hear the smile in his reply. "But I could give you the next three weeks to guess what happened next, and you wouldn't."

"Well, if I can stay here like this, that would be alright I suppose."

"That would work for me as well."

"So, what did you do next?"

"What's the craziest thing you could imagine, then?"

"Oh, I really don't know, Harry. Did you try and hit him with one of the unforgivables?"

"No, but that's a great guess, actually. In hindsight, it was far crazier than that, though."

"Stop stalling." She said jokingly.

"I threw my wand at him."

"You… Did… Not…" He'd been right. She'd have never guessed that.

"I did… Just before I punched him in the face."

"Harry, that's mad!" With that, she actually released him from her grasp and sat up to see him properly, unsure whether he was joking. The slight hint of disbelief, and her smile faded as she took in his face.

He looked troubled and distant as he recalled the story, but he gave her a weak smile. "Maybe, but not a single word of it was untrue. Though, I may have forgotten to mention that as soon as I decided all I wanted to do was kill him, I could just sort of sense that Malfoy's wand would not cooperate."

"That must have been terrifying, Harry." She took his closest hand in both of hers. His eyes closed softly as she kissed his palm.

"You'd certainly think so, but it wasn't. Not really. I didn't have time to fear anything… I thought…" he gave her hand another firm grasp. "I thought he'd just killed you right in front of me."

Her heart skipped as he held her in an intense gaze. It was a look she'd seen once before. A studious stare like he was trying to memorize every last facet and feature of her. It was the same look he'd used when he thought it would be the last time he'd see her, the look she saw right before he left the castle.

"It's okay, Harry." She said soothingly. "I'm okay. I'm right here."

His eyes closed, and he relaxed slightly.

"It was like time slowed down or something." He continued, eyes still closed as her fingers traced his hand in hers. "I somehow got to him right as he caught my wand and caught him under the jaw hard enough to nearly stun him. Then he came around with the elder wand and that's when I got this." He gestured to his side. "It was intended to hit me right about here." He pointed to a spot just off center on his chest, above his heart. "I dodged just enough, it seems. My healer says I'd be dead if I hadn't. Instead of a bit of a kidney and perhaps some other stuff, I'd have been missing most of my heart."

"Well, thank God that didn't happen then." She was tearful, but feeling him, seeing him, knowing he was still there with her and this story was in the past was helping her bear it.

"The end of the story is that I reached for my wand out of habit. I knew it was broken, and I knew it was in your fancy bag, but it was just a reflex, you know?"

She nodded. "Yeah, old habits and all."

"Exactly." He grinned. Just having her here was giving him more strength than he'd ever imagined it could before her injury.

"What I found, instead of a broken wand, or nothing at all, was the Sword of Gryffindor."

She went slack-jawed and looked truly incredulous at that.

"He tried to cast something else at me and I sent it right back to him with the sword. I think he was avoiding the killing curse because of our… I guess you could call it a 'history' with it. Once he'd committed to his dodge, I tackled him with the sword in my hand. Ran him right through."

"That's awful, Harry. I'm sorry you had to do all of that alone, much less while worried about my state." She said seriously.

Harry immediately pulled her town into a tight hug again. Then, after a moment, she lifted her head and their lips met once more, as they had a few times since the healers had elected to give them some time to catch up. This kiss wasn't a passionate inferno as the one in the castle had been. Rather, it was a loving gesture of comfort, happiness, and relief.

When it broke and she settled into his arms again, he was lost in thoughts about how utterly perfect she was for him. Sirius was right. That man knew what he was talking about.

Every single soul he could think of aside from her, would have wanted to shake his hand, clap him on the back, congratulate him, thank him, or otherwise praise his victory. Hermione, in contrast, knew that the last thing Harry'd ever wanted to do was to kill anyone, much less in a manner so up close and intimate as he'd described.

"Is that everything, Harry?"

"That's all I remembered when I woke up, but Neville told me a bit more." Harry admitted with a sheepish grin.

"Is he alright?" She asked, remembering he'd been fighting alongside her against Bellatrix.

"Yeah, he seemed fine. In need of about a week's rest, but alright."

"Well then, what did he say?"

Harry exhaled deeply. "He tells me that after Tom was done with, I picked up the sword and noticed him and McGonagall looking frantic, trying to tend to you."

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Harry." She said, sounding once more like she was on the edge of tears.

"You needn't be, Hermione. It's more my fault than yours, anyway." She drew breath immediately to protest that point, but he continued. "But back to Neville. Apparently I couldn't walk, much less stand, with this curse just having hit me, and I collapsed in the courtyard."

She gasped, but he continued. She wanted to know everything, and he was going to make sure she did.

"Then I crawled or dragged myself all the way to you. He said I didn't stop until I had your hand in mine, like this." He shifted their hands so they were arranged almost like they were shaking in greeting. "That's when I fully lost consciousness. He said he had to break a few of my fingers to get me to release you so they could move us. Even passed out, cursed, and exhausted, I wouldn't let you go." He looked lovingly at her and took an opportunity to kiss the back of her hand before returning it to his side.

Before she could fully process that last bit of information, there was a sharp knock on the door of their room. Hermione reflexively scrambled back to her bed once more, still clutching his hand in her own.

"You can come in." She called to the door.

—X—X—X—

"You're back quicker than I was expecting." Harry said with a smile as Morris entered the room, this time wheeling along a cart with an ornate wooden box set atop it.

"Indeed I am, Harry! And good evening, Miss Granger, I am healer Morris Tolliver. You are most welcome to call me Morris should you like." Morris sounded chipper and smiled at the two of them. "I don't think I'll be bothering you too for very long just now. I only need but five or ten minutes. We just received a tool that will allow me to complete another diagnostic test I'd like, just to make sure I'm not missing anything. Once I'm certain all of my proverbial ducks are in proper alignment, I'll be happy to share my findings and treatment plan with you."

"Alright then, what do you need me to do?" Harry asked, looking quizzically at the large polished wood box on the cart.

"Just sit tight, really, and take it easy. This won't hurt at all and should only take a few minutes."

Morris rolled the cart to a halt and walked around to the side of it, carefully undoing a few clasps along the center of the top surface of the box. He then opened it, from the center, along the long axis. What looked like a very fine leather material lined the inside of the box, which contained something resembling a crown. Also in the box were several polished gems, each a little smaller than a tennis ball.

Carefully, almost with reverence, he lifted the crown-looking instrument out of the box and placed it carefully on Harry's head.

Once it was on him, Harry supposed it was more of a circlet than a crown. There was a fine strip of what might have been silver or platinum that covered most of his forehead, with a smaller clear gem that settled between and slightly above his eyes.

Hermione showed visible fascination. Intricate rune work covered nearly every square centimeter of the circlet, and she was watching carefully and trying to see if she could recognize anything.

Morris noticed her interest and shot her a grin. "Did you perchance study runes at Hogwarts, Miss Granger?"

"Oh, yes I did. And you can call me Hermione." She replied, still focused on the artifact on Harry's head. "What is this device?"

Her rapt enthusiasm filled Harry with a simple sense of joy, and he couldn't suppress a grin.

Hermione noticed him noticing her and scoffed playfully at him.

"This, Hermione, is technically called a Cerebri et Magica Alveus Sensorem. But, as that is a bit of a mouthful, we just call it a Sensorem Cerebri. It allows for the observation of one's magical core, as well as the physical structures around it."

"Hang on." Hermione scrunched up her face a bit. "Brain and magical reservoir sensor? That sounds rather ominous… Harry needs a brain scan? And I'm certain this isn't the sort of thing you buy off the shelf in Diagon Alley either."

Harry tilted his head at her, unsure why she was nervous about the device.

"That's good on the Latin, though that shouldn't surprise me based on what I've heard, and to answer your question, certainly not." Morris replied. "There are only three known to exist. They are incredibly fragile and, as you can probably imagine, laborious and incredibly expensive to create. One resides in New York City, another in Tokyo, and they have generously loaned this one to us from its home in Rome. Just a short while ago, a secure portkey arrived directly to our ministry for the two of you. Even had an escort for security."

"Both of us?" The couple inquired in unison.

"I'd bet Shacklebolt had to tug on a few strings to make this happen co quickly." Harry added, and Hermione eyed him quizzically.

"A few strings, Indeed. I'd like to use it to help treat both of you. The data it provides is incredibly detailed and should let me confirm plans of action for both of your cases."

"I didn't know you were working on my case as well." Hermione said cautiously.

"I am, and have been for the last day and a half you've been here. Doctor Tipton advised it would be best for me to run my diagnostics while you were sleeping, given your former state… And when I was in before after you'd just woken up, I didn't want to interrupt the two of you for longer than I had to given my timing."

"I see," Hermione said a bit sorrowfully, "sorry if I was short with you if you saw me in my former state."

"Not to worry at all, Hermione. I'm just glad to see you sorted."

"Thanks." She smiled.

"Shall we get on with it then? I imagine at least one of you will find this incredibly interesting." He said with a chuckle.

"By all means." Harry said, still smiling at how intrigued Hermione was by the contraption on his head. "What do I need to do?"

"Nothing at all. Just stay a bit still for me." Morris replied, as he was taking a few of the smooth, clear spheres out of the box and setting them on an intricate stand.

Morris tapped each ball of some sort of crystal with his wand, and as he did, each of them glowed with a warm golden light, revealing that they were, in fact, not polished smooth at all. Each ball was intricately carved with what must have been hundreds of tiny runes.

Last, Morris tapped the gem on Harry's forehead, and a delicate stream of glowing white and gold ribbons of magic flowed off of it, headed toward two of the three rune-etched spheres. As it worked, the circlet got a bit warm, but not uncomfortably so.

After maybe two minutes of transfer, the stream stopped and the two receiving orbs dimmed before they stopped glowing entirely. Morris then tapped the stand the three orbs were on, and in a flash of brilliant golden light. The two receiving orbs shot a beam of energy at the third, causing it to glow with a similar golden light. That one didn't dim after a moment, instead retaining its gold glow.

"Well, that's one down." He said, as he picked up that third sphere.

"Morris?" Hermione asked, still a bit in awe at the intricacies of the artifact and process unfolding in front of her. "Can we see the projection?"

"Oh, I suppose so." He replied easily. "Assuming Harry here doesn't mind you looking at his scans."

"Not at all." Harry answered instantly. He was also intrigued by the device and how it worked.

Morris then took a second stand from the box and set the gem on the base. Unlike the others, this stand had a large lens on top, and it held the gem below it.

"Okay, so in short, the diamond on your forehead gathers and transmits the information collected by the circlet. Information and imaging of your physical tissues are transmitted to one of the larger stones, while data on your magical core is sent to the other. Make sense so far?"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. Harry beamed at her and replied, "No, but carry on. Did you say these are all diamonds?" He was a bit stunned at the possibility.

Hermione patted him on the arm, and Morris smiled at the two of them. "I did. I wasn't kidding at all when I said incredibly expensive earlier." He grinned at Harry's stunned silence. "The stand that holds three combines the data into the storage crystal, and it is used with this last projection stand."

Morris inserted his wand tip into a golden receiving sleeve Harry hadn't noticed initially on the stand, and muttered a word under his breath.

The storage gem grew brighter with white-gold light, and in an instant, there was a three-dimensional projection of the top of Harry's head hovering above the lens. It was about three times the size of his actual head, and the image began just above his eyes, right where the circlet had sat on his head. It looked ethereal but also was appropriately colored. It accurately portrayed Harry's black hair and the slightly pale skin of his forehead.

"And here we go." Morris said with a subtle flourish.

He moved his wand, still stuck in tin the projector's base, the image changed. Slowly, the layers of the projection of Harry's head faded away. First, his hair was gone, and his scar was clearly visible. Then, the skin on the image disappeared, and milky-white bone was apparent. As the bone dissolved away, they found themselves looking right at an image of Harry's actual brain.

While Hermione stayed fascinated, the sight slightly weirded Harry out. He said nothing, though.

"And when I add in the magical overlay…" Morris said, focusing on the device and his wand.

The image became translucent suddenly, with the addition of an intricate, electric blue layer of information. There was a large, bright, pulsing region right in the front part of his brain. Delicate tendrils of blue-white light connected it in an intricate web to what must have been thousands of tiny motes of blue light.

"Is that my magic?" Harry asked, awestruck by the visualization. That blue spot was right where he'd had the headache when he'd overstretched his magic previously.

"It is. The 'Magical Core', is right there. For some people, the location is different. It's an area of research that's still developing, but current academics seem to suggest that the location of the core relative to your brain can influence the magic you are most inclined to."

"That's fascinating!" Hermione was nearly beside herself with wonder. "There was nothing at Hogwarts that went into any of this. Not a class, not a book, nothing."

"There wouldn't be. Even among healers, this is not a commonly studied area. There are specialists, of course, but outside of that group, few can speak at length on any of this."

"Can we do mine now?"

—X—X—X—

Once Tolliver had left, the two of them sat in quiet contemplation for a while.

They were both troubled by the look of Hermione's scan. Even if they were untrained in what they were looking at, the stark contrast between the brilliantly shimmering blue core in Harry's scan and the faint glimmer that was hardly noticeable with the room lights turned up painted a rather obvious picture of her condition.

Harry could tell she was struggling, but she was fighting hard not to say anything about it. Harry held her hand while she sat quietly, lost in her thoughts ever since Tolliver had left. He wished she would open up, share her pain, and let him help her bear some of it, but he didn't know how to even start that conversation.

Before he could try to have a discussion with her, another soft knock on the door heralded Milly, returning to check on the two of them. She'd brought dinner. Penne pasta with a creamy sauce with grilled chicken and vegetables, alongside small salads and fresh bread, perfect for mopping up any remaining sauce on the plate.

Harry recalled with a smile that pasta was one of Hermione's absolute favorite foods. Recalling easily the countless meals they'd shared in the great hall when she'd been excited to see it appear on the tables, often taking seconds, something which she did not do often.

Harry tucked in with purpose, while Milly did some quick diagnostics on Hermione.

"You should eat some dinner, Hermione." Milly said when she'd finished her tests. "It's been a bit since you've had a good meal."

"I will, thanks." She replied in a hollow voice.

Milly couldn't fully appreciate how correct she was in her last statement. Before their time at Shell cottage, they'd spent months living off of whatever they could find as their initial provisions wore thin. The occasional fish, and foraged winter berries and mushrooms, along with what few edible plants they could find, had kept them from starvation, but only just.

They'd tried their hand at hunting, but quickly found they were ill-equipped for the task. The need to scream out an incantation was detrimental to your stealth, to say the least, making it hard to get anywhere near any potential quarry. As a result, Hermione, Harry, and to a lesser extent, Ron were all a bit gaunt and malnourished in appearance. They would need to focus on eating well to get truly healthy again.

"And Hermione?" Milly said in her trademark earnest and trustworthy tone, "It is okay to not be okay right now, you know? You've been through quite a lot, and you need to allow yourself to process everything that's happened to you in the last couple of days, alright? I'm here if you need me. All you need to do is touch that rune, okay?"

"I'm alright, thank you." She answered politely, but with a tone that suggested she didn't want to talk anymore about it.

Milly nodded knowingly and left. And not long later, Harry was finishing up his meal. Glancing to his right, he noticed Hermione had hardly eaten at all. She was still looking distant and distracted, and was idly tapping her fork on her plate in a rhythm.

He pushed his tray and table aside and carefully pivoted himself toward her. The recent pain potion had him feeling alright, and while he wasn't quite comfortable, he could move around a bit without hurting himself too badly.

"Hermione?" He asked, to get her attention.

When she didn't react at all, he called her name again. Still no response.

He moved over a bit more. "Hey, Hermione?" He asked, louder than he had previously, and reached out to touch her shoulder. When he touched her shoulder, she startled, as though surprised to see him there.

"Oh! Harry. Yes?" Her eyes were glistening, though she hadn't quite been crying.

"Will you talk about it?" He asked, as his hand found hers.

"What's there to talk about, Harry? You saw the same thing I did." Her anguish at her condition was thinly veiled, like she was trying to hide the fact she was devastated at the loss of nearly all of her magical ability.

He gave her a serious look. "We can still talk about it, you know?" He made a gargantuan effort to not apologize again. He knew that doing so would no doubt shift her focus to him. He didn't want that. What he wanted was what he imagined she needed; to actually stop and think of herself for once. "I can't imagine what you're going through."

She spun toward him and watched his face closely, as though looking for any trace of evidence he was making some cruel, sarcastic joke at her expense.

Just that was a significant indication of how well she wasn't holding it together. They both knew he'd never in a million years make light of this situation.

"What?" He asked, a bit shocked at her reaction. "What's wrong?"

He captured her hand in his again.

"Harry, I'm… I'm fine. I'm intact. I am whole. I shouldn't-".

He cut her off gently. "You're not though, we both saw it. It's terrible what's happened to you, but we'll find a way-".

She cut him off this time. "Maybe we will; maybe we won't, Harry. You don't know that, and neither do I." She finally wiped a tear from her eye. "Regardless, it's just… It's nothing compared to what you-".

"Don't say that, Hermione. Don't say it's nothing. You practically lost your magic." 'And it's all my fault.' he thought to himself. "You even lost yourself for a bit there too… We got that sorted out, okay? Your magic is the next thing-".

"Harry, you bloody DIED!" She was sobbing now, and turned to face him, taking her hand back and covering her face as she cried. "You DIED Harry, and I saw it. I never stopped watching you as you walked… As you walked away from me that night. The green flash through the trees? I felt it like lightning in my veins. I saw as Hagrid carried your lifeless body back to the castle. I watched, helpless, afterwards in the courtyard." Her words carried anger, fury even, and heartbreak. But he knew her anger wasn't directed at him. It was a natural response to the circumstance she found herself in. A moment later, she'd regained her composure.

Harry fixed her in a wide-eyed stare. "I'm sorry you had to see that. I'm so sorry you had to see me like that… Merlin's beard, I know beyond doubt I'd rather die myself than see you like that, Hermione. I'm so, so sorry… But, we don't have to compare. We've both been through some pretty horrific things, and we're both needing to recover. It's okay to let yourself feel it."

"Harry, you died yesterday. What right could I possibly have to be broken up about my situation? You're still in grave danger too, if I'm right and I can't- I won't allow myself any pity until I know you're well." Her face was pure resolve. All of her fire, all of her passion, directed toward supporting him again, as she'd always done.

"Hermione..." he wiped a tear from his eye, "You have been here for me for the last 7 years. Countless situations, most of which had my life in danger, and you've always been by my side, right there with me. Not once have I ever needed to ask you for help or for your support. You've been there to celebrate with me at my best, and you've held me together at my worst."

He stopped and took a deep breath, "Please, Hermione, you've done so much for me… Please let me do that for you, let me be the one to support you. I'm right here with you, no matter what, and I always will be."

When he stopped speaking, she was looking at him with tears hanging in her eyes. He knew her condition had torn her apart. More than most, he knew what her magic meant to her. He knew how enthralled and infatuated she'd been when she started out. It wasn't a secret that the feeling never goes away; he still felt it too. He also knew that he'd stop at nothing to make her whole again. But she was still stubbornly resisting herself; walling her emotions, likely to pick apart at a later date when she was alone with her thoughts.

That simply wouldn't do.

"Hermione, you are the strongest person I will ever know. Don't doubt that for a second. But right now, tonight, you don't need to be. Please trust me. I'm right here for you. I'm not going anywhere."

With that, her walls finally came crashing down, and her face morphed into the very visage of grief and anguish as the calm mask she'd been carefully projecting slipped away. Her head fell, and mournful sobs wracked her body. He gestured for her to come closer, and she practically collapsed onto him, crying her eyes out into the crook of his neck as her arm wrapped tightly around his chest.

It was the first time she'd allowed herself to break since the moment Harry died in the forest. This time, though, she wasn't just mourning him, she was letting everything out.

She wept for the friends they'd lost at the castle, for the damage done there, for the families broken by the war.

She wept for Harry, all he'd gone through, to face death alone surrounded by hateful, loathsome criminals, and then to come out of it, still in peril.

And finally, she wept for herself. She wept for her months of malnourishment and what that had done to her mind and body, for the countless terrors she'd been bottling up since they'd escaped the wedding last summer, Godric's Hollow, fighting Nagini, and Harry nearly dying on her once more; for her torture at the hands of Bellatrix, and the scars on her arm…

"She wept for herself, not only for all the things she'd gone through but also for the fact she wasn't strong enough to bear it on her own, that she found herself just now adding to Harry's significantly more immense burden, though she'd always strived to lessen it. And lastly, for the loving parents she'd sent out into the world without so much as a notion she even existed She'd done it all to protect them, not knowing if she'd ever see them again, or if they'd ever know her again if she did. She'd not allowed herself any tears for them before, but now the fighting was over, and she was free to.

"I've got you, I've got you, Hermione. It will be okay. We will get through this. Together. You and me." She sobbed as he whispered variations on the phrases in her ear, over and over. He was holding her tight and running his fingers through her hair as she wept.

He certainly didn't like the situation that had gotten them here, but was immensely relieved that she was opening up to him, allowing herself to let go, and no longer pushing her own emotions aside.

Soon enough, he found himself tearing up right along with her. The emotional rollercoaster of the last day was catching up to him as well, the lows of Hermione hating him before her treatment, the soaring high of her waking up not long ago and finally recognizing him again… The uplifting swell of excitement and love as they agreed to be together, the raw pain of recounting the end of the battle. And now, whatever was in store for him was terrifying, though it remained undefined, and Hermione's magic was all but gone.

They lay like that, finally allowing the turmoil of the end of the war to wash over them for a long while. Both of them were full of pain, sorrow and heartbreak after everything they'd been through. But more importantly, both of them were, even in their mourning, overjoyed to finally have each other, to be in each other's arms, and to have one another to lean on.

The time they spent together in that state was a mixture of pure heartbreak and utter catharsis. Both were entirely vulnerable, but they were completely comfortable and safe being vulnerable in each other's company.

As time passed, the room lights automatically dimmed, and as Hermione ran out of tears, she found herself overwhelmed once more at Harry's good nature, and his ability to be so perfectly caring given the upbringing he'd lived through.

He should be cold, harsh, and rude. Nobody knowing his childhood would begrudge him that, but he wasn't.

He was loving, because he was unloved; caring, because he had been neglected most of his life; kind, because of the cruelness he'd endured from those who should have been looking out for him. Thinking of it like that, she was in awe of him.

A pleasant sort of exhaustion gripped her once she'd allowed herself to feel and express what she'd been repressing, and she settled further into Harry's arms. The steady tide of his chest rising and falling soothed her, as did the gentle thrumming of his heart.

He'd drifted off at some point as she'd wept into his chest, and she smiled at the peaceful look on his face coupled with his soft, intermittent snoring. She'd spent enough nights sleeping near him in the tent to know he only snored when he was particularly exhausted. She wondered how much more he had to share about their time apart. Questions about what had allowed her the miracle of his return flooded her head, but she knew he wasn't ready to talk about it yet. She would have to wait a while for him to breach the subject on his own.

As she finally calmed down, and collected herself, she kissed him on the cheek as he slept, whispering "I love you, Harry." as she did.

When he immediately replied, still mostly asleep, "Luf- you too, Er-mi-ne." She smiled with a soft laugh and tucked her head back into his chest and under his chin, where she could hear the soothing sound of his heart beating steadily in the darkness.

As she finally drifted off into a deep, healing sleep, she felt his arm slide around her shoulders, and thought to herself "Maybe, just maybe, one day it will be alright."

—X—X—X—

We were drawn from the weeds

We were brave like soldiers

Fallin' down under the pale moonlight

You were holding' me like someone broken

And I couldn't tell you, but I'm tellin' you now

Just let me hold you, while you're falling' apart

Just let me hold you, and we'll both fall down

Fall on me

Tell me everything you want me to be

Forever with you, forever with me, ever the same

[…]

Call on me

And I'll be there for you, and you'll be there for me

Forever it's you, forever in me, ever the same

Artist: Rob Thomas Track: Ever the Same Album: Something To Be (Deluxe)