Yes! Finally! Here it it, the much anticipated Seamione one shot that somehow turned itself into a three-shot. If you're here from my Dramione story 'The Green Games' that had Seamione as a secondary pairing, welcome. If you're here because you like Seamione, this very rare ship, glad to see ya! If you're not sure why you're here, glad you could stumble in and I hope I turn you onto a new ship :)

The title of this story, a a bit of the plot in certain parts, comes from a wonderfully heavy song called 'The Other Side' by Woodkid. The whole album, tbh that this song is on, is just a masterpiece. If you ever want something romantic and hard and deep...listen to that, because really, it's quite worth it. The song I first heard was on s1 of the 100 (if you follow me as a writer, you know I ALSO love that show) and it was such a perfect exodus piece for the scene it was in. Poetic cinema...

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this part 1. I'll see you all in bold on the other side, yo!

I heard a whisper on my shoulder
Pretending life is worth the fight
O can you hear the song of thunder
When fear strangles a soldier's pride
And on the surface of the waters
Will dance reflections of the fire in the night

I remember cheering from towers
A face is smiling in the light
I remember the bells, the flowers
Those days are dying in the dark

Boy I was shaped for the fury
Now I pay the price
Of the human race's vice
And I was promised
The glorious ending of a knight
But the crown is out of sight

I'm slowly drifting into slumber
Cause I have lost the force to fight
It's like a cold hand on my shoulder
I'll see you on the other side

And in the arms of endless anger
Will end the story of a soldier in the dark

The Other Side-Woodkid

The exodus from Hogwarts stood out starkly in Hermione's mind as the worst moment of her life. She recalled standing speechless on the ridge in the Forbidden Forest above the school, watching in horror as her entire world burned to the ground around her. She could still see the flashes of spells, as vivid and quick as lightning, of the brave souls of teachers and parents that had defended their children until their very last breath so at least some of them could escape. She remembered the feeling of students pouring out around her, brushing against her as they trampled through the underbrush, fear alighting their veins and looking to anyone for answers. She remembered the smell of decay, of death. The smell of Hogwarts burning and crumpling to the ground in front of her, years of memories sliding away all too fast.

She remembered Harry's pale face and faint breathing, just enough to assure her that he wasn't dead...yet. She remembered knowing this was the moment that it was over, the horrible gut-wrenching feeling of their victory, freedom, and lives snatched away.

She remembered the first years looking up to her, Hermione Granger, desperately seeking answers and Hermione looking around for an adult before realizing with a sense of dread she was one of the most senior ones there. It was the realization that somehow she'd moved from the box that was childhood, simple joys, and simple problems to adulthood with real responsibilities and difficult choices. While maybe it happened happened right then and there, it wasn't a position she'd realized she'd come into. She had no choice but to dive into that now.

They hadn't gotten a chance to evacuate the school before Voldemort came. They hadn't been expecting it, but in a way they were always expecting it, yet they were sorely unprepared. Children were shoved in secret passageways and behind locked doors, praying that anyone below the age of adulthood would merely survive without having to be traumatized the rest of their lives.

Despite their lack of readiness, in the beginning, it had almost been okay, until it wasn't.

Somewhere, something had gone horribly wrong in the battle. Hermione couldn't pinpoint it, she just could feel the shift of everyone from almost winning to losing swiftly. Their descent was like a muddy slope and Hermione was clawing the hardest to reach the top but she just couldn't. McGonagall yelling at them to leave, save themselves while defending against five or six Death Eaters, the resolution in her voice was a slap in the face. It was the moment just before Harry was nearly killed and Hermione realized if they stayed they'd lose it all.

Some people had to survive this.

So she'd moved her efforts to finding people to help carry Harry's body away, and he was like a rag-doll in their hands, and gathering up the children hiding and focusing on ferrying them out of the castle. Their parents and teachers fought around Hermione to keep them alive, their eyes entrusting her and a couple others to keep the next generation of witches and wizards on their feet. She would have loved to stay and fight her way but with Harry all but lost there wasn't much else she could do unless she was ready to sacrifice herself for something no one was sure they could win anymore.

So the children fled into the darkness of the Forbidden Forest, people like Lee and Fred and George and Oliver calling them to their voices, trying to gather as many as they could into a circle, counting heads and going through class lists.

Hermione stumbled through the underbrush, her movements loud and imprecise, like a lumbering beast crashing through the forest. Her mind was numb. Her hands, red with blood, were numb. Her feet, aching, were numb. Everything was numb.

She stumbled over a lump on the ground and a quiet cry caught her her throat when she realized it was Padma, on the ground, the Ravenclaw's eyes hollow.

"Padma!" Hermione whispered, dropping to the ground, pressing her hands firmly over the place where blood bubbled from an open wound at her neck. Padma's hand gently came up to touch Hermione's.

"Padma, we're gonna be okay. I'll help you. Hold this, c'mon, you gotta hold onto this." Hermione whispered frantically, grabbing her scarf from her bag and shoving it against the wound, pulling Padma's hands to it. Her fingers numbly brushed the fabric before falling to the forest floor. The light had died from her eyes.

"Padma, please, no, hold on..." Hermione couldn't find the strength to leave her, and hardly noticed she'd slipped away. A figure crouched next to the two of them, among the fleeing silhouettes around her.

"Hermione," Hermione looked up to meet the carribean-blue eyes of Seamus. He looked like he'd seen better days, his chin split open and bruises already forming around his cheekbones and eyes, but he was still alive. His eyes were tender, understanding, "She's at peace now. We can't save everyone." He sounded deeply apologetic, but not condescending. Hermione's hands reluctantly left Padma's hands, and she stared down at her comrad before her. Seamus leaned over, shaking his head, and closed her eyes with two of his fingers.

"I'll see you on the other side," He murmured with deep mourning, before standing, "We have to leave her. I know that, you know that." He said. Hermione nodded quietly and stood, and he ducked away to help a limping third-year.

The smell of burning-wood and human flesh alike- met her nostrils and she couldn't help but look back over her once beloved home. If she thought this moment with Padma was bad, she had no clue what seeing Hogwarts torn to pebbles and burnt to ashes would do to her.

"Hermione, it's gone." Ron's voice was quiet behind her. He had Lavender Brown under his arm, her face almost unrecognizable through the deep claw marks. She looked pale and limp and for a second Hermione wasn't sure she was alive, until she made a jerking motion and whimpered in pain.

"I can't..." Hermione fumbled for her words, feeling hot tears streak down her cheeks, "What do we do now?" She hated imagining a world where Voldemort had won and her very existence was going to be actively hunted down. She couldn't imagine a world where all her teachers and some parents she'd known for years were slaughtered in the hope that a select few could escape. These children would be targets too, she registered, looking on their dirt-stained flesh and wide-eyes.

"We find somewhere safe, first." Ron said, straightening his back and taking on a role of a leader now that Harry wasn't here to do so, "We need somewhere we can re-group, keep them alive...for who knows long." Ron had always been good at strategizing. Strategizing for war and strategizing for survival weren't the most different of things, yet she was a little surprised Ron was the first to take action. It spurred her mind; she blinked away her own pain.

The second bit was whispered painfully under his breath, and Hermione felt her heart clench. She hated the uncertainty of it all. They might not be able to come back for years. The entire adult population of the Order might be wiped out. What could couple hardly legal young adults do to fill their shoes? She knew that Ron couldn't do this alone, she had to step it up too.

"The Forest of Dean." Hermione said automatically, "We were safe there a long time. We can be safe again." She felt her body start to relax a tiny bit. Planning was second nature to her. Planning Hermione could do, "We still have the tent. I saw a cabin in the distance, once, while you were gone. If we get enough of us that are 7th years and above we can all use a extension spell. That might be enough." She didn't really think so, but it was all they had. From Ron's eyes, he could hear the way her voice faltered at 'might' and from the way his eyes darkened he seemed to agree with her. But that was gone just as quick as it was there. He also seemed to be preparing himself to say something- maybe it was about that hasty kiss they'd had in the tunnels- but then again, was this the time? And if it were, was there something to say? Hermione hadn't felt it, those sparks she'd wanted to have felt forever, and she had read the way Ron's face had turned that he hadn't felt them either. Maybe it was simpler to go on knowing that they both knew, and that they didn't need to say it. But here at the end of the world she was sure glad he was around.

Ron nodded grimly, and held out a hand to her. She took it and let herself relax into his warmth for a moment. But that's all she could allow herself to feel because she knew after this moment she would be a true leader and she didn't have much of a choice.

The night fell on the camp. It was hours before everything was settled, and that was a loose term. The cabin had been simple enough to find, and as Hermione had predicted, it was abandoned. It smelled something like a decaying carcass and there was a fine layer of dust over everything, but it had a roof over everyone's head and they certainty needed it once they got the chance to do a headcount. As it was, only about a 5th of the school had made it with them. This was no small feat, because Hermione found herself staring at the faces of about nearly 100 tired and crying children, aged anywhere from 1st year all the way up to already graduated. And, as much as she wanted to be so brave for all the kids that had tears streaming down her face, she couldn't, not in the way she felt she should be. But, when she saw Lee press the palms of his hands to his eyes to wipe away something that also looked like tears, she felt better.

"It's okay to cry, children," Luna was going around, patting shoulders, "It lets the hurt out."

On any other day, Hermione might have argued it, but for once, it sounded sane. And she too wanted to let the hurt out. But at the moment, she gathered her pain and continued on.

There wasn't enough blankets to go around and most children fell asleep hugging each other in heaps. There were so many injured too that Hermione couldn't even fathom where to begin. It was unanimously decided that Harry should take the priority because if Harry was alive they had a small chance of overthrowing Voldemort. Without him, their percentage seemed a lot less likely.

Dean went around charting the people that were here and the people that hadn't made it. Ernie was resolute in the opinion that more would show up, more were alive. This couldn't be all that was left of Hogwarts, he argued. Even if more did show up, Hermione wasn't even sure how they could accomodate more children. She couldn't imagine keeping the 100 or so alive that they had now.

When most were asleep, and Hermione had gone through along with Susan's help and healed as many minor things as she could and prioritized the ones most badly hurt, she found herself sitting against a tree.

It was pretty here, just as she'd recalled it as a child, just as it was in her memories from this past year. She walked the farthest away she could get from everyone without inciting worry and threw up a barrier around herself. She sank down against the roots, wand clenched tightly in her fingers. Under her nails was red blood, darkened and old now. She herself had at least four cuts she could count, but none of that had been fixed yet, not when so many others were worse off.

Her fingers twitched as she remembered how she had shoved children to Fred and Oliver, who were apparating them at least to the edge of the campus, and she'd turned and watched as Kingsley was felled by a group of Death Eaters. She'd so badly wanted to run into the fight with him, help him, but she'd once again pulled her wants and turned around to help the children escape. He was dead...she felt that with a certainty in her gut, one that tugged and blamed and darkened.

She saw Luna's kind face, remembered her words this evening, and sobbed.

A twing snapped close to her. She couldn't stop crying once she had started so she tried to reign it in, but that just made her cry more. She managed to halt her sorrow to just a couple hiccuping sighs and sniffles and gasps, turning to see Seamus staring at her wide-eyed.

"You, ah, missed dinner. I know ya have been savin' everyone else, so I…" He seemed caught off-guard, holding some meat on a stick. After they'd given whatever good food to the youngest, Susan and Ernie had gone hunting and come back with some unappitizing looking rodents and a bird or two. Hermione hadn't stuck around for her fill, because she had just needed to get away.

"I'll just, leave it here then." He said, planting the stick firmly in the ground, then turned. But then, he paused, "Are you okay?"

Despite the look on his face that told Hermione he had no idea how to comfort a crying girl, he looked guinely concerned.

"No, I'm not." Hermione threw down her shield, her voice crackling, "How is anything okay?" She demanded.

"I..stuipd question, I guess…" Seamus winced. Hermione crawled to the food, but in reality, she just wanted to curl up on the forest floor and fade away.

"Yeah," She agreed, "It sort of was." A thin smile came over her lips. Seamus nodded.

"You're coming back, right?"

"Yeah, I just need...I'll be back." She said, unble to articulate why she was out here.

Seamus hesitated, lingered, but then vanished.

She wondered why Seamus had noticed her missing. He had seen her in rough shape earlier today, but wasn't Ron wondering where she was? Or, maybe Ron was with Lavender. Either way, Seamus was her classmate, but it was a stretch to call him a friend. Whatever the reason, she was greatful.

When she returned, her eyes sought him out, but he was caught up talking to Dean and Morag. She nodded, chuckling, and went to ask Oliver if there was anything she could do.

That first night, everyone was just waiting for help, waiting to be rescued. No one imagined this was anything permanent.

"We shouldn't have fires." Cormac spat as a tiny flame flickered inside a circle of ragged survivors, "If anyone's looking..." He pursed his lips, unable to finish his sentence.

"But Hermione said this place was safe," A young fourth-year whispered.

"It is," Hermione said automatically, but internally she only hoped.

"We shouldn't take any chances." Cormac said and everyone watched as he stopped out the fire, pitifully small as it was to begin with, and no one said anything. Perhaps people weren't in the mood for an argument or perhaps they agreed. Hermione turned toward the pond a stone's throw away from them, curling up on the peaty soil with her coat as a pillow, watching the stars dance on the water's edge. If they weren't running for their lives, it was almost beautiful.

The second day, there had to be plans made. Even if people were coming, there were necessities to tend to. There was also the question that was on everyone's minds that would eventually be asked; what if this was it? What if no one ever came? Sure, it was only a day after, and things were probably hectic but the question was still somewhere in everyone's minds.

That second night, the most senior to have survived met near the pond outside the house and tent.

The twins, Lee, Oliver, Viktor, Alicia, Cormac, Cho, and Warrington were the only ones who had made it out for the adults that had already graduated. Warrington's presence caused quite the stir, a Slytherin in the mix, and he'd even submitted to intense mind and memory searches to prove he wasn't and had never been on Voldemort's side-something Hermione had felt moderately uncomfortable watching, but hadn't made a motion to stop. She hated the way this war had hardened her, she hated how untrusting she'd become, but it was a necessary task.

He was a muggle-born, something he'd hid his entire life from his fellow snakes. His parents had been killed a week ago when someone let it slip. He was here on behalf of the young Slytherin children whose war this wasn't and whose parents weren't like those of the Notts or the Malfoys. Ron glared at him, most gave him a wide berth, and Hermione was just hoping this wouldn't bite them in the ass.

As for the 7th years, their numbers were better than she thought. Ron had made it out, as had Seamus, Dean, Susan, Neville, Ernie, Hannah, Michael, Anthony, and Lisa. There were also the ones not currently there because they were injured. Su Li had argued into trying to be at the meeting, despite having one arm that was just sinew and useless and Hermione knew would probably need to be amputated. Lavender had fallen unconscious in their journey here and was still out cold and Ron had only left her side when the meeting was called. Zacharias Smith was cursed with some sort of hex no one recognized and had begun to sport a fever that worried Hermione greatly. Harry was in a sort of quiet coma that terrified everyone.

Some 6th years were invited to join, due to their connection with members in the years above or exemplary bravery trying to evacuate the children. Some 6th years had reverted back to being small and cried, a painful reminder that most of these kids were hardly sixteen, while others had rose to the occasion.

Ginny, Colin, Luna, and Morag sat in with everyone else, not looking a bit out of place amongst such weary warriors.

In some ways, their council was large. In others, it was pitifully small and Hermione felt so saddened looking around, imagining that this might be all there was left to look at.

"We need to focus on surviving. Just surviving the days," Oliver took the lead, as he was the eldest besides Viktor, but Viktor didn't know these children like Oliver did, "Before we do anything relating to getting back."

"Won't these kids miss their parents?" Colin said, furrowing his eyebrows, "Won't they want to know we're alive?"

"And risk alerting Him where we are, and that we made it out?" Warrington argued angrily, "Hell no. I saw McGonagall transfiguration fallen bodies to look like some of our own. Like you two," He looked at Hermione and Ron sitting next to each other, "And Harry. Other big names. You're essentially ghosts now. We need to keep that up."

"So we can't leave here?" Ron bristled.

"As much as I hate agreeing with a Slytherin," Alicia winced, "He's right. Until we know more you all need to keep a low profile. There are plenty of us left to carry out the other jobs."

"I think first we need to let those seeking asylum know where we are." Ernie said, still adamant there were others searching, "It was bedlam. We're sure to have missed some kids."

"We can use the radio, like we did with you three earlier this year." Fred said, nudging his twin, "Something between the lines though. Less obvious. If He really did win..." Fred blew out a long breath.

"We're fucked." Seamus agreed plainly, and although Hermione didn't like his language, she didn't disagree. No one did.

"I think we have to prepare for a much different world now." Lee said, steeling himself as he sat upright, "And realize we might be the last sanctuary anywhere. This might be okay now, but snatchers were here once. I think...we need to find somewhere else. Maybe leave England entirely." He said softly.

"No." Hermione felt herself speak before she could stop herself, "I won't."

"We might not have that sort of option anymore." Ginny said quietly and the silence that settled over the group was suffocating.

There were certain priorities; food, medicine, comfort. They stayed in that place for a whole week, just waiting around that someone would come to rescue them soon. They ate whatever had been shoved along with them, not a lot. Certainly no more than could last another two days, by that first week's end. It was decided by all that Harry, Hermione, and Ron would be tied to the camp, safe and alive and unseen. Others went out to scout back in England and around Hogwarts.

Ernie's theory that they'd missed children did come to pass and by the end of the week they'd added thirty-eight more to their ranks, children that showed up dirt-stained and exhausted. Daphne and Astoria Greengrass- along with a sixth year Slytherin named Dominic Forester- were among those and Warrington vetted them and their better nature. They all agreed to the same memory sweeps and all came back as good people. Hermione hated to admit it but having Slytherins in their group was one of the only things that would keep them alive in the years to come.

Thirty-eight more mouths to feed, but thirty-eight more children alive. It was the worst catch-22 Hermione had yet to face.

Small convoys of two or three went out scouting, coming back with grim faces. On one hand, Hermione wished she could be among them, doing good, looking for signs it was okay to come back, good news for crying first-years. As it was though, there were things to keep herself busy at camp. Children looked up to her. She wasn't going to abuse such authority or let them down. She arranged sleeping maps, helped set up perimeter guards, rationed food, rationed medicine...Hermione felt as though she had a hand in everything, even if it was just a light touch here or there.

One other job she took up, although no one told her to but she felt it was necessary, was to write the lists of confirmed dead. In the first couple runs, the list was almost bearable if you looked at just the number of squiggles instead of the names. Yet when the parchment rolled onto the floor from the table she wrote them on, she just wanted to throw it across the room and cry herself to sleep. Too many gone. All the teachers at Hogwarts except Slughorn and Severus Snape. The entirety of the Order. Half of the Ministry of Magic. Entire handfuls of parents.

Hogwarts was ruins. Diagon Alley was just ashy remains. Hogsmeade was swarming with Death Eaters, drunk off victory and vicious in their acts. The Burrow was just...gone, a crater in the ground twenty miles where it once was. Grimmauld Place was discussed as a possible safe haven but it couldn't possibly fit everyone and it was either no one or everyone. Besides, it would only be a matter of time until that was found too, since safe-houses were being ransacked by the hour.

It was on the eight day hard truths had to be discussed and realized; there was no rescue, there was no one left but them anymore, and in the most heartbreaking of ways there wasn't a Wizarding England society anymore, at least nothing there for any of them. They couldn't go back. They were on their own...122 children (because really, that's what they were, even Hermione or the twins or Viktor) seemed to make up all that was left of the good of Wizarding England.

These children weren't soldiers and there was nothing to fight right now. There was only keeping them safe, keeping their magic undercover and everyone alive so that one day- even if it might be years and years from now- they could take back what was theirs.

"We have so many orphans," Warrington commented on that eight day, leaning back in his chair, "And that's not necessarily a bad thing-,"

"Wanna tell tell that to Melissa and Maggie O'Ryan? They're twelve and fourteen and they'd disagree with you! Or how about little Charlie? He's only seven; his parents died at His hands and his older brother died getting him here." Ron thundered, and a tiny bit of him was thinking of himself. Hermione recognized a small part of him was mourning the death of his own parents and older siblings.

"I'm not," Warrington's lips pressed into a thin line, "I only say it's good because all of those kids are now the rightful owners to their Gringotts accounts. We need to empty them, now. He's going to realize soon enough and put tracers on it; He might have already. But we need that money, all of it, if we're going to be able to save anyone. There's no use of having it there anymore...there is no world left for us."

Hermione wasn't sure if she would have thought of that.

When all was said and done after the lists were compared, there were over fifty children that were now the sole owners of hoards of savings, more than fifty children who would help them survive. Hermione had a feeling that she could get Griphook to help them, for the right price.

And so they did. Griphook wanted the Sword of Gryffindor, and after an hour or yelling back and forth about it, they agreed. He didn't work there any longer but Hermione held him to secrecy with their task and he wrote up contracts for 43 wills of the younger children, signing their rights over to those that would be going there themselves so that they could empty the vaults without having to risk young children.

Fred went for the Weasley's, now the oldest of their bloodline. Hermione signed her small stash away, unable to show her face there. Griphook drew up a different contract so that Fred could also be considered Harry's acting supervisor, since he was in a coma and unable to sign over his vault himself. Daphne, Seamus, Luna, Neville, Ernie, Morag were the others going that had vaults and confirmed deaths of both their parents.

Hermione watched them get ready to leave from her tent, anxiety wringing in the pit of her stomach.

"Come back, all of you." She whispered quietly, although no one could hear her.

It was 13 hours of worry clawing at the pit of her stomach before they returned. No one was dead, but that didn't mean that no one was injured. They'd done their task though, and from Hermione's undetectable extension bag spilled out millions of galleons worth onto the tent floor, having emptied all 54 vaults. As it turned out, they had a couple friends at Gringotts. Even still, it hadn't taken long for word to spread that there were survivors from the battle there.

Everyone was bleeding, but the worst was Seamus, whose entire left leg was angled the wrong way and bleeding profusely.

Hermione helped hold him down while Daphne, who apparently was skilled at healing magic, tried to repair the bones without Skelegrow. If that hurt, according to Harry, this must have been the worst pain imaginable from the way Seamus in his confused state thrashed around. Hermione was practically sitting on top of him to keep him down, not wanting to risk knocking him out because no one could be sure he didn't hit his head too.

She was sitting by him, her entire chest covered in his blood, when he came to, blinking into the musty light of the cabin.

"Shit, we made it out?" He whispered incredulously, shaking his head a little.

"Yeah, you nearly lost a leg. Daphne set it back, but it's going to take a while to heal." Hermione leaned back, sighing in relief. He seemed alright. This enough was the sort of miracles Hermione now looked forward to; small ones.

"Merlin, that blood mine?" He asked, spying the blood on Hermione's shirt.

"I don't have another..." She answered quietly, since they hadn't really had time to pack clothes in their leaving.

"I would give you mine, but it's just as bad." Seamus gave a quiet laugh, staring down at his ripped t-shirt, "Did we get it all?"

"You did. You got it all." She said and Seamus relaxed into his cot. He winced as his leg moved an inch.

"Hermione?" Someone called from the entrance to the cabin room. It was Ginny. She grinned brightly when she saw Seamus awake, "Oh, thank Merlin!"

"Yes, Ginny?"

"Council's meeting." She said, "You coming? We'll fill you in later, Sea." She assured him and he gave a thumbs up.

"Yeah, I'm coming." Hermione said and squeezed Seamus' arm as she left, "I'm glad you're okay."

"What's the meeting about?" Seamus asked, pausing her as she left.

"What do you think? About what we do now."

The stunt at Gringotts had been worth it, but it put them in jeopardy. If people weren't looking for them before, they sure as hell were now. Their location in the forest of Dean had been compromised once before. It wasn't safe to stay here. They came to the cold realization that nowhere in England was safe anymore.

Although Viktor was with them, Germany was decidedly vetoed. There were a lot of Grindewald supporters and by extension those that didn't think Voldemort was the worst thing out there. France was also decided against; if Voldemort was going to go through and take places, Germany and France would be the next two on the list.

Italy was their next destination. Daphne knew a little about it since she'd gone steady with Blaise for a long time and his family was from there and she'd gone on a couple vacations down to the area. A couple other kids stepped forward but the most useful was a fifth-year- Hufflepuff boy whose family had vacationed in Italy every summer. He described fondly an old abandoned monastery he and a friend had found when they were twelve, a two hour walk outside from the nearest town. He recalled all the rooms, the nooks and crannies, the sloping hills around it. It was like throwing a stone to hit a target in the dark; there was the very real possibility that it would be inhabited by now or knocked down or something else awful. And if they didn't have this, what would they have? They would have nothing. Hermione wasn't one to pack her hope into one little bag often, but she did with this, and when they sent Oliver out to see if it was still there, she rocked back and forth and just hoped so hard it was going to save them. She would have been crushed had it not. But someone, somewhere, was on their side.

It sounded ideal. With enough of them being almost experienced spell casters, they could enchant it to be like Hogwarts. They could plant there too and exist within the Italian muggle community when they needed to. It was a place to survive for a long period of time; that was what everyone was thinking but no one dared say. Hermione didn't want to jinx it although each day that passed seemed like it added months onto their possible re-arrival to the Wizarding World. She could live and die in that monastery, she realized one late night with a frightening certainty. Who was to say they'd ever go home at all?

On the ninth day after the fall of Wizarding England, they packed up everything they owned and in groups of ten apparated to the monastery in question.

It was built sometime in the early 20th century, but for some reason since abandoned. As the entirety of the group stood in its presence, quiet and hurt and tired, there was a cool breeze that blew through the wind and almost felt like hope.

"I never believed in God," Dean whispered, helping Seamus hobble around, "But he might have just saved all of lives."

Hermione couldn't have agreed more.

That day was nearly three years ago.

No one could have expected that it would be this long. In those first months of that first year, they all just kept thinking if they just held out another week, maybe two, things would revert themselves. Wizards from other countries would come in, defeat Voldemort. They'd be saved. They wouldn't have to start from scratch.

And they kept waiting and nothing ever happened.

Slowly, they came to the conclusion that they were it and this strange place was their home now. The best they could do was continue to teach the children magic so that when the day came that someone went against Him these kids would be learned enough to fight back against him. Breaking the Ministry placed trace against magic under the age of 17 took the combined effort of the council a year and a half, but they finally managed it. That was like a breath of fresh air to everyone. There wasn't a single kid that should be unarmed ever if it should come up. Everyone should have the right to learn how to defend themselves with magic.

Harry woke up after three long months. He was angry about the whole situation, withdrawn and furious and in mourning for two weeks afterwards before he quietly showed up at the training hall and corrected Colin about how to cast a defensive spell.

The novelty that he was the Chosen One, along with the novelty of Hermione and Ron being some sort of heros, wore off in the kids minds around the seventh month. That was for the best; they worked as a council of elected individuals, no one more or less important than the other. It was made up of Oliver, Fred and George, Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ernie, Daphne, and Warrington. Hermione would had never thought she would put her fate in the hands of Slytherins but she trusted Warrington and Daphne with her life in the way she trusted Ron or Harry. They were good people.

Life almost became normal in some ways. They built fences around their monastery and put heavy confusion charms at a perimeter ten yards away from every inch, making any muggle that wandered up here forget why they were coming and go back the way they came. They planted a garden- which Neville tended to- and managed to buy some cows and chickens with their money. The first thing they'd done was convert it all to Muggle euros. They didn't want any amount of Wizarding money to ping up and alert someone to their location. Every child had chores and work to do to help out around and Fred, George, Lee, and Alicia-before her demise- had gone around in those first years collecting up things from houses that were still standing in England so that everyone had beds and comfortable places to sleep.

But then, in other ways, it wasn't normal. While the younger children there might have fallen into the system of chores and survival and it had become all but routine, there were moments where Hermione wondered how any of them thought this was going to work out?

In the start, right after the turn of the first year when it was more or less said out loud they were on their own, there were a faction of people that were desperate to get out and incite change, or at least find remainders of their life. Neville, who Hermione had never thought of as angry or troubled, relentlessly sent himself out on these trips, each trip back from the outskirts of England leaving him more anxious and more battered. And, it wasn't until he got his leg blown up and returned in such a state that even Daphne, the most experienced medic couldn't fix it, that he stopped- but only because his leg didn't allow him to. He didn't accept it quietly, but had great screaming matches with Harry or Ron or Hermione out in the yard, declining the invitations to go to a 'group healing meeting' with the likes of Su, who no longer had her arm, or Lavender who thankfully wasn't a werewolf but lost her right eye, or countless others that were hindered from the war. And, there'd been a point when it was unsure how he was going to handle himself in this position where sometimes he couldn't force his mangled leg to move. Daphne could fix most anything, but she couldn't fix his leg and she couldn't fix his anger nor his depression.

That passed, after a long time, and only perhaps because Neville found other ways to keep himself busy...but Hermione wasn't ever sure that the disappointment in himself for feeling as though he failed to find parents or a reason to go back left him.

Then, there was the scouting trip where not one survived. Alicia led it, and she was the only body they even found, eyes wide and lifeless and skin cold. She was found just near England, and no one else ever showed back up, so they had to be assumed to be dead. It was after that trip that they decided it wasn't worth it. They were starting to survive here, and maybe, they just needed to lie low...even if it would be years. And it was.

In the three years, eight more kids they'd known from their previous life showed up seeking asylum. The most shocking being none other than Draco Malfoy himself. Ron punched him, which he probably deserved, and he was kept in their equivalent of a dungeon for a week before they could decide what to do with him or if they could even trust him. His parents were dead as of a month before he showed up. He'd failed Voldemort because he couldn't bring himself to kill a muggle family that had two babies. If he showed back up...he'd surely be killed.

There was no indication that he was there to kill them all. Viktor used some of the more unspeakable methods of gathering information that he knew, and although no one was proud of their actions, they had to keep the group at large safe. Draco, on some level, understood this and allowed everything they wanted of him through his lips.

It was slowly evident he was just as scared kid with no parents, no more of a threat than anyone else. That was one of the biggest scares they'd had to their safety. They were far enough out of the way that no one wandered up here, Italy hadn't been invaded yet, and the scouts had done their jobs of planting fake bodies of kids here and there and took to polyjuice potion any time they left the compound.

Slowly, it became a home.

Three years and Hermione in a lot of ways loved what they'd done and how they'd survived. It wasn't like her old house; with her parents downstairs making tea or reading the news with pictures on the wall, carpeted staircases, softly colored pastel walls, but it was still good. It was good because one day Hermione woke up and decided to make it good. These children deserved that. She made sure all the kids had rooms that, even though were shared, felt like their own and allowed children to paint the walls of the monastery in murals galore. She argued that the kids should receive some sort of monetary gift at the end of each year, however small, and a trip to the Italian Muggle world so that they could buy silly things instead of merely useful things. She wanted everyone to feel as though they were not just surviving but perhaps thriving.

She would be damned if any of these children, now hers and everyone else's, felt as though this was a prison to them.

She woke up alone in her room. Originally, she'd shared with Ginny. There were just too many people to allow anyone the privacy of their own room, and some of the younger children slept three or four in a singular space. They were discussing expanding, building new sleeping quarters since people were getting bigger, but that was only theories right now.

Ginny had moved in with Harry six months ago. In this post-modern world they lived in, post-civility, when people got together it wasn't childhood flings. There was something more concrete about the sort of way people found each other here. There weren't labeled as much either, you either were or you weren't. Casual encounters were more common (but people still gossiped; you couldn't take it all away) because after the end of the world certain 'virtues' just seemed so...antiquated. And if you didn't end up together that wasn't a big deal. The dramatic way that dating or love existed at Hogwarts was all but erased. There were, of course, bigger things to contend with than this girl taking this guy's crush or whatever. People grew up, people leaned on each other for support or for intimacy and that was the best way to describe it. Some people defined themselves in their own ways; Oliver and Daphne had gotten each other's initials tattooed on their ring fingers, the closest symbol to being married as they could get, for an example.

Harry had been rooming with Ron, but Ron ended up with Lavender, which came as a shock to no one. Even Hermione thought they worked well together. Lavender was much more mature after her werewolf attack, and while she wasn't one of them, she did have wolfish tendancies on occasion, such as liking her meat pretty much rare. Hermione recalled how jealous she'd been of them her sixth year and felt years and years away from that petty girl. She hadn't like Ron in that way in a very long time and she was truly happy for them.

Lavender had been rooming with Hannah who was now with Neville who had been sleeping with Lee who was with Morag who had been- well, the point was that everyone eventually got jumbled around and somehow Hermione had ended up with her own room.

She didn't mind not being attached to someone. She wasn't even looking for someone like the others, if she was being honest. Keeping all these kids alive was a life in itself. And while some considered her rooming situation to be lucky, Hermione hardly used the room for anything other than sleeping. In the mixup of people, she'd taken the smallest room she could as not to take away space from couples that were more deserving of it. It fit two twin beds, with a tiny space of walk between them (although the second bed was currently just a frame, the mattress unneeded) and a desk that Hermione worked at along with her trunk of personal items at the foot of her bed.

She woke up, brushed out her hair the best she could, and put on some clothes for the day. Dawn was just rising over the mountains and Hermione nodded to Viktor, who was on duty currently, and slashed some water on her face from the basin out front. She then cupped her hands in it and took a deep, long sip of it, nodding to herself as she thought about her tasks for the day. She was due to teach some advanced classes around noon. She had offered to help Daphne dry out some medicinal leaves at one point. She was on kitchen duty for dinner, and tonight they were making chili. Today was her shower day so she should probably get over to the baths now, if she wanted to be able to shower uninterrupted and enjoy warm water without guilt.

As she was turning to go take her bath, she heard she screech of the doors to their compound open and without turning, she knew who would be coming back.

Dean, Luna, Astoria...and Seamus. She worried about everyone when they went out on runs or scouting, of course, but this time more than usual, she thought about Seamus and if he were going to come back okay.

At Hogwarts, she couldn't remember speaking more to him than the occasional friendly and expected Gryffindor greeting or casual conversation. He was a figure in her class, but just a face and someone that seemed to have a penchant for blowing things up. She knew things about him, but only by words of others.

Even in those first couple years here, she'd respected his presence as another adult alive helping, and he did his part.

And then slowly, something changed between them. About two months ago he'd come back from a run and came up to her, plopping a shirt in her hands. She'd been so confused, looking at it and then back up to him.

"But I didn't ask for anything," She said, tilting her head, wondering if she'd confused her with someone else.

"I know it was like years ago, but that's payback, ya know?" He said, raising an eyebrow while grinning, "For me gettin' blood all over your singular shirt."

"Oh," Hermione shook her head, "You didn't need to...I wasn't mad at you." She'd almost forgotten the incident herself. His limp had cleared up and apart from a scar it was like it had never happened.

"Still, thought of ya when I saw this and well, I did feel bad 'bout it." He said. She looked down; it was a pink zip up that nearly was identical to the one she'd fled Hogwarts in. It had been so dirty, ripped, and bloodstained she'd had to throw it away within days of arriving here and getting a new set of clothes. Staring down at this, such a kind thought, and seeing the similarities...she almost felt like she was looking at her past self. That had been her favorite jumper in her youth.

"Thank you, really." She realized he was still looking at her, "I did miss it."

After that, she felt a little more drawn to him and maybe he to her. Jokes her way, those smiles or ways their eyes caught for small moments, how she was acutely aware of his presence whenever he was in a room.

And now, she couldn't stop but look back, relieved to see him unharmed, shucking off his bag of spoils. He knew where she was and slowly brought his gaze up to meet hers, burning and warm. She shivered. She wasn't sure what this was, exactly, but she had a pretty damn good idea where it was going.

The part of her that was denying it, denying him, snottily told Hermione that she only liked him because he was one of the last single guys around her age left. She honestly wasn't sure why. She'd acknowledged of late he was attractive, he was a nice guy, and quite funny. She knew she couldn't be the only girl that had noticed him. For the life of her, she couldn't imagine why he might also like her in return. She hardly made an effort to look nice; Lavender still asked for makeup whenever she went out and even Ginny put on eyeliner so she could still feel a little like her old self. Hermione didn't waste time with such things. She wore the same outfits day in and day out; rotating between her four pants and five shirts, with the occasional sweater or jacket thrown on on windy days.

She worried he was only interested in her because she was also one of the last unclaimed females, in her more quiet moments when she really reflected on it. She didn't want that to be true. A part of her wanted him to simply like her, although they hadn't come to any discussion of that yet.

A third part of her just encouraged her to enjoy this feeling, to embrace it and let things either happen or not happen. This was the most unusual of all voices.

With a burning sensation pooling at her stomach, she turned around sharply and hurried to the showers, before he could see the full on blush she was sporting. His level stare was something she couldn't get out of her head.

The rest of the progressed much as she had anticipated. Seamus was busy with his own jobs, and it wasn't often they crossed paths in their work. Hermione helped Daphne out first. She went to teach next, and left feeling as though the kids were getting some of what she was trying to teach them. She helped bake, enjoying this task more so than some other since it was all a very casual affair and Ginny happened to be on this shift two and they were both like giggling school-girls when they were together.

"Did you hear about George and Luna?" Ginny's eyes twinkled as she whispered, gossiping to Hermione. Hermione swung her head around.

"What? No way." Hermione shook her head, "I can't imagine those two."

"Yeah, Harry got an eyeful...they were out in woods right outside." She snickered into her hand, "It's all mum right now and all, we're the only ones that knows." She paused, "Fred likely knows too," She amended.

"Well, what do you think about it. It's your brother." Hermione pointed out.

"If he's happy, I am too." Ginny decided after a long moment. Hermione noticed a new scar on her arm, "Ah, hex." She said by way of explanation. Ginny oversaw the advanced dueling class, where they encouraged people to come and practice their fighting. Unspeakables obviously weren't used, but they didn't deny kids the right to use dangerous hexes, because they couldn't practice very well with ones that were minor and then expect to just know how to use the bigger ones if their lives came down to it.

"It was worse before," Ginny added, "Daphne's gotten real good at patching people up!" She laughed, and Hermione got the feeling she liked getting new scars.

"Who threw it?"

"Dennis Creevy, if you can believe it." Ginny said, and Hermione's eyebrows raised, "I know. He's gotten really good over the years. I had my reservations when Harry told me he might fit in well in this advanced class but it's been months since someone's gotten a mark on me."

"Do you think he'll be ready to go on runs soon? We can always use more people, I think that the current group deserves a break once and awhile." Hermione said.

"Not yet, but soon." Ginny agreed, "I'm going to bring it up to Warrington, have him come into the class and observe him, see what he thinks," She said, because Warrington was in charge of the scouting committee.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, and in her absent-mindedness leaned into the table, and the blood from the meat they were handling seeped into her shirt.

"Yuck," She said, frowning, "I'm going to go and get a new one, try to wash this out before it sets." Hermione announced and Ginny nodded.

"I'll tell Hannah." She agreed.

Hermione left the large kitchen, staring down at her shirt with a long sigh, walking the narrow halls on autopilot. She heard the footfalls of someone approaching the other way and looked up to see Seamus nearly where she was.

"Seamus," She said cordially, nodding his way, still slightly pre-occupied. She was completely taken off guard when he grabbed her arm as he passed, dragging her to the landing of one of the staircases they were near, pressing her on a wall near a stained-glass window.

She felt his lips on her neck, nipping and nuzzling and she couldn't stop the quiet moan that breathlessly ripped from her lips. His hands slid to her waist, keeping her in place as he pressed closer against her, slanting his lips over hers. She wasn't the prim and proper girl she'd once been and she, although frozen for a second, wasn't going to deny the warmth that spread through her whole body. She tangled her fingers in his hair, keening as his hands slipped down her leg, bringing it around him.

She could feel her heart pounding as his nails dug into the strip of skin between her jeans and her tshirt, pushing it up just slightly.

Then, as they both heard the sounds of talking as someone rounded the corner of the stairs, he pulled away, breathless as she was.

"Hermione," He said in response to the simple greeting she'd given him, but when he said her name it was rougher and was so much more than a simple greeting. It made her want more. Yet as casual as he'd been when he pushed her against that wall, he gave his nod and continued on his way leaving Hermione wondering what the hell just happened.

In her room, Hermione was dazed as she stripped off her shirt and threw a scornigfy at it. She found a spare, putting it on and thinking back to what happened. She hadn't been kissed like that since well...ever. She'd kissed Ron, back at the battle. It had been fumbling and awkward and not all to pleasureable, akin to kissing a brother. That's when they'd both realized nothing was ever going to happen between them...quite thankfully. Viktor had been her first kiss during 4th year, but that was chaste and sweet. Cormac had kissed her during her 6th year but that was far too much tongue and saliva and Hermione had felt as though she were drowning. Here, she hadn't been too occupied with boyfriends. She'd kissed Lee during spin the bottle about a year and a half ago, but that hardly counted.

She glanced out the window and saw his familiar sandy-blond head heading toward the gardens where Malfoy and Neville, along with a gaggle of children, were working the fields. She saw him greet Malfoy warmly, patting him on the back as he entered the area, and she hadn't realized they'd become such good friends.

And she wasn't sure how much she truly knew about him at all. She didn't know how much he knew about her either, though.

At dinner, she felt nervous and on-edge, waiting for him to appear. How would she react? How would he react? Did he want to discuss that mind-blowing kiss on the stairwell? Did they want to talk about how it would have progressed, had someone not come their way?

He entered with Fred, in deep discussion about something-likely about his run today- and hardly looked over at where Hermione sat. She tried not to be obvious she was curious about where he would sit. It brought her back to that first night, in the Forest of Dean, when she'd come back and her eyes had searched for him. But, after nothing much happened and it seemed maybe he liked Morag until she started going with Lee, she chalked it up to him just being a nice person and he would have checked up on anyone.

This? Well, she was pretty sure he wasn't going around, pressing himself against girls and snogging them senseless. Or, she hoped he wasn't, a part of her whispered.

He sat next to her, which wasn't unusual to anyone since all the older kids sat at one area and Dean was sitting across from Hermione and the seats next to him were taken already. He nodded to Hermione, but it was friendly, as though he hadn't shoved her against a wall and kissed the life out of her. She nodded back, determined to play just as casual as he did. Maybe it was a dare. Maybe she'd imagined the whole scenario. Maybe-

She felt his leg press against hers and stay there, and that's when she knew that this touch of skin- below prying eyes- was completely intentional. She stiffened for a moment before relaxing into the contact of it, forgetting the simple pleasure of being next to another person in a close way. Her mind flew back to just about an hour or so ago and damn it, but Hermione had never thought two legs pressed close to each other could be erotic, but here she was already hot and bothered.

Dinner progressed fine, his leg firmly next to hers and he talked on with Astoria and Dean like he wasn't doing anything, and Hermione talked to Ginny and Harry. She was thinking about Seamus and the situation in the back of her mind, though, despite her best efforts to dispel it.

She didn't think he was snubbing her to be cruel. She recognized they were both actually quite private people with their lives here. They maintained a role of professionalism and respectfulness at most times. And what would he say? Casually turn to her at the dinner table and say, 'oh yes, Hermione, by the way when I grabbed you and made out with you, do you remember that?' No, of course not. She wouldn't have expected Seamus to be the one whispering about his kisses or who he was banging, unlike some of the other boys, just as Hermione had kept her feelings about him to herself. Maybe he hasn't even said anything to Dean about her. Hermione liked it this way.

In a world where everything was so close together, everything was shared in some way, it was nice to have something just theirs and no one else's...not for someone to talk about, not for someone to spread around, not for anyone to know about their relationship-what it might be or might become- but just them.

Yes, Hermione didn't mind at all he wasn't being obvious about the kiss. It was almost more romantic to her that way, if she even bothered thinking about romances these days.

At the end of dinner, she felt his hand slid onto her leg, dangerously far up her thigh. She yelped in surprise, her knee hitting the underside of the table. Everyone in her vicinity looked at her and she saw Seamus stuffing his face with chili out of the corner of her eye to keep from choking on his laughter.

"You okay, Hermione?" Dean questioned.

"Yeah, just, a bee or something must have stung me."

"Do you want my sister to look at it?" Astoria asked with wide eyes, and Ginny began to look around for the pesky offender.

"No, no. I'm sure I can handle that myself." Hermione said, hoping her face wasn't too red.

"You sure you can handle it by yourself?" She heard Seamus ask, the tone of all concern, but there was an undercut of an innuendo Hermione did not miss at all. No one else seemed to pick up on it though.

She smiled at him, nodding. "It was nothing much, just surprised me. I know how to deal with it." She said and Seamus' pupils seeped into the sea-green of his eyes, and he gave her a curt nod. Under the table, his fingers squeezed her leg, but she was prepared for something like that, so she just gave an innocent grin in return.

"It is that season," Ginny had begun to say, and Hermione gave an internal sigh of relief, feeling her cheeks cool from the occurrence, "Bug season, I mean. We should go around and charm the doors and windows and such."

Hermione nodded in agreement, "Wouldn't want anything getting into...well our bedrooms at night, you know." She saw Seamus swallow out of the corner of her eye. Two could play at that game. Hermione wasn't going to act like a blushing virgin around him, that was for sure. She took her napkin and set it on her lap and while she did, her hand might have brushed up against Seamus' legs, also dangerously close to a place that made him start to cough.

Only Dean gave him a curious look as he began to chug down his water. Seamus narrowed his eyes at Hermione, giving an impressed shake of his head.

"No kidding! I should have brought it up today. Eight new mosquito bites on me- count 'em!" Hannah broke it, showing her arm, "I didn't even think to ward the window today. I would like to keep it open, since we're in for a scalding summer."

"Extremely hot." Seamus agreed, tapping his fingers against the table, setting the glass back down with a punctuated 'clank', "The kind where no matter how much you take off, you just can't get cool enough."

This was an innuendo most got, but the girls at the table just snorted and ignored him, while Fred patted his back. Ginny cleared her throat, flipping her hair.

"This is why I prefer winter," Ginny agreed, "You can keep putting things on. There comes a certain point where you can't take anything more off in the summer- what's next, your skin?"

"Well, but there are ways to remedy that heat, Ginny." Hermione replied, "Cooling charms, ice cream, lots of ways." She put a smidgen of emphasises on her last bit.

"It's just annoying, that's all." Ginny conceded, "And ew, Seamus. Really." For a second, Hermione wondered if Ginny knew what was going on under the table, "I mean, I know all guys think about is sex, but yeah, we get it. Valid point though." Oh, she was still referring to the summer comment. Good.

"We should start saving more water. Put another bin out." Harry said, and the conversation lapsed into plans for the summer with no chance for more innuendos, although Hermione was on the lookout and she was sure Seamus was too. They finished up their meals, sparing each other a fiery glance before going on to finish up their after-dinner jobs. Hermione took watch for four hours, Seamus helped distribute the haul and prepare for the next one. She watched him in the main courtyard and made sure he knew she was keeping one eye on him. The way he looked at her made her shiver all over. Since he knew that she was watching him more than she was watching the forest outside, he made a point to take off his shirt long before he got to the laundry line.

That did make Hermione look away, biting her lip and feeling the warmth against her cheeks. As much as she enjoyed this game, some of it was still new to her and in this moment she had a thought...why all this effort? And was this really Hermione? But then, she looked down again and there was a way her heart thumped and she wasn't sure when that had begun, but she would be stupid to ignore something good that was coming her way.

After her shift, she found her feet bringing her to his room that he shared with Dean, although perhaps not for long since Dean and Su had been getting cozy lately. Either way, the boys were laughing about something when she entered.

"Ey! Hermione! Want some licorice?" Dean offered, seeing her first. From the way that Seamus turned around swiftly at her appearance, she could tell he hadn't expected her to be so bold. He seemed to not be breathing, his back rigid and his eyes snapped to her, unmoving. They both knew what this was.

"Sorry, but I need to take Seamus for a bit, Dean. Warrington had some questions about today's haul." She said. Seamus let out a long breath, relaxing and smirking to himself. His eyes seemed to say 'clever girl' when they came up to meet hers.

"Oh, of course." Seamus said a little eagerly, getting up.

"You can handle it? I was there too," Dean offered, sitting up on his bed.

"Ah, no. I'm sure Seamus can answer his questions. You were on two hauls in a row. Go to sleep." Hermione chuckled, seeing Dean half-asleep as it is. Dean's shoulders relaxed and he nodded to Seamus and let him leave without a second thought.

Hermione grabbed Seamus' hand and led him back toward her room.

"Why Hermione, this ain't where Warrington is...unless you're into a kinky threesome." He joked, eyes shining.

"Mhh, you wish?" She asked back and he shook his head.

"I'm a little protective. I like keeping my things to myself." He said.

"I wasn't aware I was yours." Hermione scoffed.

"I want you to be." He said with a certainty that made Hermione blush. She knew he wasn't being overly masculine in referring to her as an object, but in the sense that they'd be together. She'd be his like he'd be hers. She hadn't even thought as far as that yet but the more she thought about it the better the thought was.

She pulled him into her bedroom and shut the door, placing a silencing charm around the room. She pushing him to sit on her bed and straddled his lap, grabbing his face and kissing him as hard as he'd kissed her this afternoon. His fingers found the birth of skin between her jeans and her shirt, sliding up under it to grip her closer to him. Hermione's whole body hummed with pleasure and with a sense of relaxation at the same time, since it had been a long time since any thing like this had happened.

"Who knew Hermione Granger was so forward?" Seamus mumbled against her lips. She broke the kiss, pulling back.

"Who knew Seamus Finnigan felt up girls during dinner?" She asked back, but smiled so he knew she wasn't upset with that little stunt. If anything, it had really turned her on.

"Only for you, darlin'." He assured.

She felt his hands grip her shirt and pull it up, followed by unhooking her bra with ease. Hermione's fingers fumbled with his belt. They both discarded each other's clothing in record time and what Hermione had a feeling this was going to come to, this morning in the yard, came to fruition. And it was like seeing galaxies created before her eyes.

They didn't tell anyone. Seamus put his clothing back right and went back to his room, and Hermione fell asleep easier than she had in a long time. They kept it to themselves, a game forming between them. During meal times he'd sit within chatting distance of her and they'd see how far they could push the line before someone noticed (So far, no one had. Ginny once had asked her if she noticed that Seamus was particularly punchy one day, but she hadn't associated Hermione with it, nor picked up on Hermione's teases). Hermione figured that maybe they were used to Seamus and everyone found her so demure that anything she said was automatically taken in a non-sexual way. During the day, they'd steal each other away for heated make-out sessions or fast rutting in all those hidden nooks and crannies. If Hermione truly was the mother of this house, and more than one person had said as much, she figured it was now thoroughly christened, but that wasn't for children's eyes or ears. They were each other's release for now and neither pushed the other into becoming something more, saying something they didn't feel yet.

For now, having a friends-with-benefits was actually really great for Hermione, although she knew slowly it was inching toward something more everyday. And Merlin, she welcomed it.

Her favorite moments, though, were when they lay after it all, relishing the moments where neither of them were expected to be anywhere, sweating and panting and relaxing into each other's presence. They talked.

Some people talked about their past selves all the time; everyone pretty much knew Lavender's life story and Ginny rambled when she was nervous. Hermione didn't mind, everyone dealt with their loss in their own ways. Seamus never much talked about that in public, though. He wasn't withdrawn, he had merely found other things to talk about.

So when he talked about his family, his farm, his childhood memories...Hermione felt so infinitely special to get to know these things about him. He often told stories without prompting needed, his calloused hands gliding over her smooth skin and his voice low and even as he spilled everything. He explained it once to her, why he didn't tell the others. It was too painful for him to acknowledge the loss he'd felt, and he couldn't imagine speaking in front of everyone about it. Yet with Hermione, he felt safe...comforted. He felt as though he could tear up a little when he talked about how his mother baked the best apple pies or how his father taught him how to work on cars.

Hermione had felt similarly about talking about her life, but until Seamus and his way of speaking of it, she hadn't found a way to put it into words. She also found herself confiding with him all those memories that burned in a way that hurt, but nearly felt good.

They also shared tidbits about each other that were no longer applicable to the world, things that weren't so touchy but were rarely brought up because the way they lived was so different now, like their favorite muggle movies, where they liked to go out to eat, or their favorite ice-cream flavors. Seamus made Hermione laugh so hard sometimes that she had to cover her mouth unless she wanted to be caught with him naked in a broom closet.

She had thought she'd been in love with Ron, but that ended. She had thought even maybe at one point she loved Viktor, back when she had her first kiss. All of that faded away and she had realized somewhere between that she hadn't felt love, not until now.

She wondered if this is what love actually felt like.

At night while he slept, she would ghost her fingers over his back, connecting his freckles like constellations and whisper it soundlessly under her breath, trying to imagine what it would sound like to say it to him; I love you, I love you, I love you.

Great! Glad to see you made it through part uno. I'm not sure when Part 2 will be updated; I have the whole thing baaaasically done but I think I might want to wait until I update the last chapter of the Green Games, which, now that this is up, I can finish and I hope to have it up by year's end. So, the chapter two of this will most likely come within hours of that chapter.

I started writing this approximately a year ago, maybe just short some. At the time, I had become deeply engrossed in another TV show, and if you go back on my stories ANs from around that time I'm sure you'll find it, and tbh a particular couple on that TV show inspired this, in a lot of ways. I think the biggest references are in the second part of this. Buuuut if anyone (and the first one) manages to get it right, because it's not obvious and very subtle, I'll write you a one shot of a character couple of your choice from any of the TVs I have listed that I watch on my profile. The only thing I will say is perhaps it should have been a prison instead of a monastery they ended up in...

Second order of business is that this story, I think, walks the tightrope of the ratings. Right now I have it on T, but if anyone reads this and feels like it's graphic enough to deserve an 'M' rating, lemme know and I'll change it, because I wouldn't want anyone to walk into it and feel unprepared.

Third order of business is that if you want to see the cover on a bigger scale, go to my art/fic tumblr, youngbloodlex22, and I'll have a better version of it up there. And, also consider following me :) Starting from basically now I'll be posting covers of stories I intend to start as like a 'coming soon', I keep updates of what I'm working on, and if you have a burning question, you can come and talk with me over there!

Forth note is I realized both my Seamione stories are set in depressing times? Like...I don't think they can only exist in times of stress and strife...so one day after this I will be doing a lighthearted school years Seamione...

Last is please oh please remember to leave a review if you like this! It would make my next two weeks of college finals so much more bearable :)