"Where's Harry?" Hermione worried her bottom lip as she waited for Ron to answer her.

She'd been asking whoever she saw in the hallways. She'd asked Parvati and Dean, Seamus, Professor McGonnagall. None of them knew where Harry had gone off too.

"I dunno," Ron said vacantly, "he came back in with us after he snapped the wand, remember?"

"Yes, but where is he now?" Hermione pressed on. 

She hadn't seen Harry in the past hour. They had all come back inside, and gathered outside the Great Hall. McGonnagall had given them instructions in a broken, bleary voice, directing them as to which part of the castle to repair first. Hermione had been the first in line to volunteer. Harry had been with her then, but he had drifted off. And now she couldn't find him. She felt awful about bothering Ron with it though. She only barely managed to keep from crying every time she glanced at the Weasleys.

"I don't know, Hermione," Ron said exasperatedly, "I should go."

He turned and walked off up the corridor, his steps unmeasured and his stance swaying. He didn't look back.

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat and took a shuddering breath. She'd go to him later, when he was in a better state of mind. Now she needed to find Harry.

"Hermione?" 

She turned on hearing Neville's voice. The boy wore a small lopsided smile on his face. 

Hermione walked in quick steps to him and wrapped him in a hug. He hugged her back earnestly.

"It's over now, isn't it," Neville said when they had let go of each other.

"It is," Hermione agreed. 

"McGonnagall just offered me a position as herbology professor," Neville said, a tinge of excitement seeping into his voice, "Professor Sprout is retiring, she's moving to Tibet to study some native plant species."

"That's amazing, Neville," Hermione was genuinely happy for him. 

But she was getting sidetracked. She had to find Harry.

"Neville, have you seen Harry, by any chance?" she asked.

"Yea he was going off to one of the bathrooms," Neville said, "sixth floor, I think. But that was half an hour ago, isn't he here now?"

"No," Hermione paled, "I'll-I'll just go check on him. Thank you."

"See you later, then."

Hermione turned and ran. She took the stairs three at a time. Her muscles were screaming by the time she came to a stop on the sixth floor, having narrowly jumped from a moving staircase to reach the landing. She stood and panted for a while, trying to catch her breath. Once she was sure she could breathe normally, she began her walk to the bathrooms. 

Professor Slughorn and a few students were repairing a part of the hallway. Hermione smiled apologetically at Slughorn for not stopping to help. She ran on. A large boulder blocked her path, and she noticed the exploded part of the wall. She flicked her wand and waited while the rock shifted and grated back into place. She cast a permanent sticking charm on it to add durability. Then she was off again. 

"Harry?" her voice sounded too loud in the otherwise silent corridor, but she didn't care. 

She heard a sniffle.

"Harry is that you?" Hermione cautiously made her way inside, blatantly ignoring the sign outside the door that specifically said " boys' ". 

Harry was perched on the granite of the row of sinks. His head was leaned back and rested against the mirror behind him. His legs swung free. His jacket had been discarded, and the sleeves of his jumper were rolled up. Hermione gasped when she saw the small red cuts peppered along them.

"Harry, what are you doing?" she struggled to keep her voice even. She stepped over a little rubble and immediately snatched his wand from his hand.

"Give me the wand, please," Harry said passively, "please Hermione, I can't fight anymore."

Hermione's heart shattered when he said that. Harry always had some fight left in him. No matter what the situation. It was his specialty, that he never gave up on things before he had tried his level best. Now, to hear him say that he couldn't fight anymore, it hit Hermione with such magnitude that she was tempted to lean against something to keep herself up. If Harry was affected to such an extent, she couldn't even begin to imagine what the others might be going through.

"Oh, Harry," she wrapped her arms around his neck. He loosely strung an arm across her back.

"Look at me," Harry's voice cracked in the end, "I'm not even brave enough to cut deep enough to hurt myself."

"Harry, don't," Hermione choked back a sob, "don't say you aren't brave. You willingly sacrificed yourself to save us all. If that's not brave, I don't know what is."

"I didn't save everyone," he said roughly, "where's Fred, 'Mione? Where are Tonks and Remus? Dumbledore? Collin?"

Hermione had nothing as an answer.

"I don't even have enough courage to face anyone, what am I going to say to Molly and Arthur?" Harry beseeched her, "What will I tell Teddy when he grows up? You think he will accept me as a Godfather once he learns that it was because of me his parents died?"

"Remus and Tonks died willingly, Harry, trying to help defeat Voldemort," Hermione said sternly, "if you loved them at all, then give them the respect they deserve, and don't blame yourself over it. Respect their choice, Harry. They deserve it."

Harry's eyes brimmed with tears. Hermione wiped them away gently with her hands, "Everyone is grateful to you. Everyone."

"How do you know?" he asked in a coarse whisper, "how do you know everyone doesn't hate me?"

"I don't hate you," Hermione said firmly, "Ron doesn't hate you. McGonnagall loves you like a mother, as does Molly. Dumbledore loved you, and he still does. Nobody blames you for any of this, Harry. You were thrown into this as just a child. You were unwillingly pulled into this adult war. You lost your childhood to it. That's not your fault, it's Tom's."

"How am I going to live with it?" Harry asked, clasping both her hands in his and squeezing painfully, "How can I face Ron, or Ginny, Arthur, Molly, George? What am I supposed to say to them?"

"Tell them you respect Fred," Hermione said solemnly, "tell them you loved him like a brother, and that you respect his choice."

Harry gave her a watery smile, "Does Ginny still love me?"

"You should ask her yourself, I'd hate to speak for her," Hermione smiled, "you don't have to be afraid. No matter what happens, we're all here for you. Always, okay?"

Harry stood and hugged her again. She patted his back comfortingly, letting him take all the time he wanted. He sniffled a few times, his grip on her tightened momentarily before he let go.

"You're one of the bravest people I've ever met, remember that," Hermione smiled warmly at him.

"You too," Harry smiled back. He pulled down the sleeves of his jumper to hide the cuts, and they left to go to the Great Hall. 

The bodies had been covered with white sheets, and the rubble around them had been cleared. Harry's grip on her hand never loosened. It was as though he was afraid to lose her. Hermione gripped back with equal strength, pouring all her love for him out with this small gesture.

"Harry!"

Harry finally let go of Hermione's hand when Ginny flung herself at him. Harry took a step back to brace himself, and he smiled softly into Ginny's flaming red hair. 

"Where do you think you've been for the past hour?" Ginny's smile faded and was immediately replaced by a fierce scowl, "I was so worried, I thought-I thought something happened, don't ever do that again!"

Ginny smacked him repeatedly on his arm. Harry didn't cower away and let her finish hitting him. When she had satisfied her rage, he placed a chaste kiss on her cheeks, "I'm sorry, I won't do that again."

Ginny nodded, content with the apology. Harry looked over his shoulder at Hermione. She smiled encouragingly at him. Ginny and Harry joined the rest of the Weasleys, and Hermione watched as Molly reached out to envelope Harry in a hug and Arthur patted him in the back. A fond smile crept onto Hermione's face. 

Hermione turned and slowly began walking back the way she had come to join the others repairing the castle. Just outside the doors of the Great Hall, Hermione spotted Malfoy. He was standing straight, but his head wasn't held high as was usual. It was bowed, and he didn't look up to meet anyone's eyes. Hermione thought of giving him a cold look to make him feel more out of place than he already was. But she stopped herself. She wasn't going to be bitter towards him forever. It wasn't her place to do so. She glanced at him again. He looked so belittled, and ashamed, Hermione almost felt bad for him. His parents weren't around, they had probably left to go somewhere. 

Malfoy glanced up suddenly, and their eyes met. Hermione felt a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. His eyes were storm colored. Grey clouds, thrashing waves, unforgiving skies. His eyes held pain and loss and shame and guilt. Hermione wanted to look away, she knew she should. But she couldn't, his eyes were too deep and intense.

"Granger."

Hermione started, snapping out of her daze. 'Granger', just like he had always addressed her. Only now, his voice didn't have the malice, it didn't sound taunting and there wasn't a trace of mockery in it. She looked at him wordlessly for a few seconds, and then nodded.

"Can-can I speak with you?" Malfoy asked carefully, "Alone?" 

Hermione contemplated. She knew if she denied him, she would be going against her own words previously that had stated she wouldn't be cold to him. But if she went, she'd be crossing a barrier. 

She chose to cross it.

"Alright," Hermione nodded curtly. When he made no move, she began walking at a brisk pace down the corridor. They walked past several groups of people. Hermione repaired whatever she could on the way. Soon they reached a deserted alcove which had once been covered by a tapestry. The tapestry was torn now. 

"What is it that you wanted to say?" Hermione asked. Her voice was firm, but not harsh. She waved her wand and the tapestry wove itself back together and hung back in place.

"I- I wanted to apologise," Malfoy said reluctantly, "for everything, from the start. For all the bullying and insults, and everything else. And for watching and not doing anything when you were at the manor."

Hermione was shocked silent. She opened her mouth once, and closed it, then opened it again. She was so shocked she couldn't form any coherent reply. Malfoy scowled deeply at her lack of response.

"You can just say so if you won't forgive me, your silence is not very informative," he said bitterly.

"No," she said hastily, "it's not that, it's just- no, I'm sorry. I- I forgive you."

It was his turn to look shocked. Perhaps he hadn't been expecting her to let him off so easily. Maybe he had been expecting a fight, maybe some yelling or hexing. 

"You do?" he asked after a profound silence.

"Yes," Hermione said, "I do. I won't claim to understand what you went through, because I don't. But I'm not going to hold anything you did against you. You have my word."

Malfoy looked intently at her, waiting for a hex, a jinx, a punch to the face. Anything to pay him back for all the times he had tormented her. Nothing came. She was truly a Gryffindor, through and through. Bravery, chivalry, she had it all.

"I wish you well, Malfoy," Hermione inclined her head. 

"A-and I you," he stammered, "thank you, Granger."

Hermione gave him a small, restrained smile, "Don't make me change my mind, because I'd still like to punch you again."

"I probably deserve it," Malfoy smirked cautiously.

"Goodbye, Malfoy," Hermione said. Their eyes met again. Stupid storm colored eyes. 

She turned and walked away. He stared after her, wanting very much to say something else. But he couldn't find anything to say. So he settled for looking at her retreating form. When she reached the end of the corridor, she glanced back at him. He swallowed hard. Then she was gone.