The last golden flake left her wand before plummeting them back into the darkness of the night. She sighed and released the tension in her shoulders. She had survived another year. Those around her began to embrace, some wiped tears from their faces. She turned and watched as Angelina wiped a stray tear from Georges face before he broke down, pulling her tightly to him. They all had lost someone in the war, why was it the only one she lost for good was herself? She shook her head and raised it to the sky. She needed to get out of here, while those were embracing, remembering, surviving, were busy.
It had been a coward's way out of speaking to anyone, but she couldn't handle the way that they would all spend the rest of the night going through this routine. Drinking to the point of oblivion and opening up on how they felt since the war. She wasn't going to go through it again, last year she had stayed and allowed them to ply her with enough fire whiskey she could hardly move the day after. She had spent the night blubbering nonsense into a cup, slumped in the corner in a chair, she would survive the memories on her own from here on. She didn't need fire whiskey and hugs to help her through. She felt for the doorknob and took one last look around the rooftop, she wouldn't come back next year. She didn't belong here. She turned to leave she felt a hand grab onto her arm and she violently pulled it away.
Harry stood holding both of his hands up, a small sly smile on his face in apology. He, out of any of them knew how she felt about being grabbed.
"Sorry" he said following her through the door. "Are you really leaving?"
"I have to I'm sorry, there's something going south at work and if I don't get started on it, I'll be behind tomorrow." She let the words tumble out and watched as his face changed, hardened.
"It will still be there the next day Hermione, you don't have to work so hard at being normal. You need to live a bit." He smiled at her and she forced the corner of her mouth up in return.
"That's all that any of us are trying to do itsn't it, live after the war."
"We can't let it control the rest of our lives." He cut her off sharply and she nodded in reply turning to leave again. She could feel him try to reach for her again and she quickly moved out of the way, two steps down and out of reach. She watched him as he stood looking at her, his mouth opened and shut a few times and she could feel the pressure in the room. A laugh broke free from the roof top and he turned away. She took the opportunity to continue down the stairs.
"Hermione, we still haven't talked about that year." He called down the stairs at her and she picked up her pace not turning around. She needed to get out of there, today was not the day to go down memory lane with Harry. She felt her pulse increase as she heard his feet heavy on the stairs behind her. She had practically ran out the door, into the crowd.
"You can't run away forever!" He yelled out behind her as the crowd cheered and she took off into the night. That was where he was wrong though. She easily could run away, as long as he wasn't willing to follow. She looked at the ground and counted the misplaced brinks that lead to the apparition point. It was 384 total. 200 that curved to the right and 184 the left. Spots that hadn't been repaired in the efforts to bring Diagon Alley back to its glory. She watched the ground and followed the path leading to the edge of the walls. She had 100 more to go and she could say goodbye to Diagon Alley and the people it brought with it. She heard another heavy set of footsteps coming quickly behind her and she tensed. She stopped and took a breath to calm herself. People can run in public without it signaling danger, you don't have to panic over running feet. She shook her head and continued walking.
89 more to the left. She was almost there, and she could be home in her warm flat.
The feet kept running and she heard a man call out, just loud enough for her to hear and she increased her pace. There was no need to turn around and invite herself into whatever situation was unfolding behind her. She could just walk to the side. She had 70 more to go, she would walk to the side and it would be okay.
She veered off her path to the left, closer to the wall and heard an oath as the man ran into her. He tried to catch her as they both went down. She felt the wet bricks make contact with her knees and winced at the sharp pain that went through them. She threw her hands out to catch herself, the cold water and dirt splattered along her robes and she cursed under her breath. She could feel the raw skin of her palms. Otherwise she was unscathed. She lowered her head to catch her breath again before rising up onto her knees and turning to look at the fool that had ran into her. She found herself looking into familiar slate eyes.