Finally, it was over. Harry Potter or as he was commonly known as, the-boy-who-lived, lived through the killing curse once more. The Dark Lord and his supporters were extinguished and it was a time for celebration. However, Harry and his friends found no chance to just celebrate and forget about the war.

The body count in Hogwarts was over five hundred with all the reinforcements that joined throughout the battle. Across Britain, there was no joy to be found with the news of Light's victory. Who would feel joyous about a victory won by their children, when they were the ones who were supposed to protect them?

Hermione Granger spent that night trying to help injured people and creatures. When Ron caught her with blood all over her clothes, dishevelled hair and at the edge fainting with the magical exhaustion, he directed her to the clearing by the lake where tents were set up for survivors to clean up and rest. They came across Harry on the way, which led to a twelfth group hug they had that night, which also ended in tears. They all were emotionally drained, everyone they knew was either injured or dead or injured and helping remove the dead.

When acromantulas and werewolves who were after the fresh meat, reached the dorms in which younger years were hiding, it was a massacre. Nowhere to run to, children were half-eaten alive before the killer jumped onto another kid. Just a few hours ago, the parents of Hogwarts students who heard of the battle, were deliriously searching the ruins for their children. Now, the parents left were either mourning for their children or trying to find a body. It was the most heart-breaking thing Hermione saw in her life.

She felt guilty for taking the war to Hogwarts in search of the last Horcrux. Everything would have gone perfectly if Voldemort's forces weren't this strong and full of dark creatures crazy enough to destroy innocent children.

"It was not our fault. It is his and his death eaters' fault," Ron said after reaching the clearing. He gave her the beaded bag he found. He was helping rescue a centaur under a fallen wall when he saw it on the ground.

Truly, blowing up the Hogwarts's walls killed more beings than the killing curse itself. Some helpers were still trying to get to the dead bodies under the ruins. Fortunately, locating spells helped to find the survivors and rescue operations ended hours ago. Still, they couldn't reach the undergrounds of some parts because most of the rooms there was flooded by the black lake after the blow-ups. A large number of Slytherin students taking shelter down in the dungeons were drowned as a result. Even Voldemort was angry at that. It led Hermione to believe the blow-ups were not directly an order from the Voldemort himself but the work of the more unstable cronies that belonged to him.

"They killed Fred, not us," Ron said quietly. She could see his eyes were shining with tears. And she felt hers fill with tears, too. She had nothing to add but another hug.

After Ron left her with a tent set up next to his and Harry's to sleep, Hermione found herself restless with nervous thoughts. So, she changed into her clean pyjamas, and instead of going to bed, she made a cup of tea for herself. Her charmed portable kettle was the saviour of her stressed mind. With her cup in her hand, she went outside to watch the ruins of Hogwarts. She could see the other rescuers slowly retreating from the ruins to their homes or tents.

She knew most of the urgent cases went to St. Mungo's and when there was no space or staff left, they transferred the patients to other countries which offered their help. Their help came surprisingly soon after the battle was over. Other non-urgent cases were treated in the tents by non-professional wizards and witches who knew a healing spell or two, with the healing potions left from the hospital wing and now-deceased potion master's storages.

There were also creatures who didn't get an offer for help from anyone other than those in still Hogwarts since the motto of most healers was "wizards and witches first". So the voice of agony was now the only sound accompanying the view of Hogwarts in ruins.

She sat on a nearby rock and looked up to the stars sky above. She just wished this war never happened.

She looked down at her arm and saw the carvings again. She just wished she was never called "mudblood". She knew even if Voldemort was defeated, the wizarding world would continue to see her and other muggle-borns as inferiors.

She wished she was strong enough that she could have protected those who were weak to protect themselves. The actual power to help the weak. Like her parents who were weak to defend themselves against Death Eaters.

She wistfully wished her mother and father were still alive. She noticed her cheeks were once again wet with tears. But she terribly missed her family. She missed those free days spent with them. Since the war, she had no time for any relaxing. She wished she could spend her time freely again. Work on interesting projects, read new books and maybe even get a summer fling. She snorted at herself. Now that her tears were flowing freely, she hiccuped on her snort and sobbed with grief. She should have probably gone to sleep when she could.

But she couldn't escape her thoughts now that there was no evil super villain left to beat.

She missed the nights when she was little and tucked into the bed, where her father would read her the classics. She wished she was her father's princess again. She sobbed again. Then, she was calming down remembering other memories. Like the summer they visited France. Or the picnic they had last week she saw them.

Her eyes closed slowly as she took another sip from her cup. She didn't notice the bright comet that went over her head. But she felt the exhaustion settling over her bones, she knew she could do nothing at this point to make things better. So, she decided to leave the warm tea unfinished and go to sleep.

Hermione saw the most awful dream. She couldn't remember it now. But it felt like the most terrible thing in the world and she felt the heaviness of it settling over her soul.

And then, she felt herself waking up to the cosiest feeling she ever had. She was cocooned in warmth and satisfaction. Her legs were tangled in it and no longer aching from the battle. No, she noticed her legs and rest of her body actually were aching sweetly as if she had the nicest run before going to sleep. Her hair had a softness over her head which was quite different from the dirty tangles she learned to live with, over the last year. She felt clean, if not a little bit sticky from the sweat that came with the warmth of her surroundings. But overall, she hadn't felt this close to being comfortable since that last lavender bubble bath she had, with a thick novel to read in the prefects' bathroom last year.

Suddenly, she noticed that most of the warmth was actually coming from the not-so-soft pillow beneath her. She snuggled it more to seize the warmth and hummed with pleasure. The pillow grumbled like a cat's purr.

"If you're awake at last, can I go and do my actual job?" The voice came just over her head. The warm breath was fluttering directly to the top of her hair, she never wanted it to end. She hummed again and snuggled tighter.

A huff came in response. When she opened her eyes to say "No, she wasn't awake and wanted to stay that way for an unforeseeable future", she noticed her pillow was actually a very naked body. A very naked and a very pale body with its very-private parts visible.

Hermione bounced away from the said body with a high pitched scream and found herself on the air for a second before her bottom made contact with the floor next to the bed. While she was on the air, she managed to notice she was completely nude if it wasn't for the sheet she was taking with her. She ended up a heap on the floor.

Hermione whipped her head to look at the person in the bed and saw no one. Well, bed was so high, she couldn't see anything from her position. It was on a platform a couple centimetres higher than the ground she was currently sitting on.

When she made to rise to her knees and put her forearm to bed to look at the unknown warm-person, a pale blond head popped up over the bed, startling her. Since she had her hand clutching the bed, she didn't end up sprawling on the floor again. But she had a very brief other-hand-trying-to-find-balance-through-the-air dance before she heavily sat on her bottom for the second time. She heard a snort.

Hermione looked up at a ridiculous face focusing down at her grumpily. As grumpy as the owner of the face was, at the same time, he was also looking very suspiciously like he was trying not to snort a second time.

Fortunately, it was someone she knew. Unfortunately, it was Draco Malfoy.

Thanks for reading!