Disclaimer: It's very, very much not mine...how terribly regrettable.

"A man is not old until regrets take the place of dreams." – John Barrymore

She took one last deep breath and wrapped her arms tightly around herself, clinging desperately to the peace that lingered in the garden of The Burrow during those precious hours that composed the strange, magical realm between the night and the dawn.

This was the last time, she mused silently to herself as she looked over the soft darkness of the rolling hills and the starlight shining dimly on the pond, that she would see this place for a long while. It was a place, so warm and full of magic and family and love, where she belonged; a place where she'd first felt that maybe she was indeed meant to be a part of this strange, wonderful world of fantasy she'd been introduced to when she was eleven. She and Harry had both been strangers to that world seven years ago; new, inexperienced, and without anyone to guide them through it all. She knew that Harry had found his place in the wizarding world when they'd arrived at Hogwarts, but she hadn't truly found her home among the magic until fourth year, when she'd come to The Burrow. It was at The Burrow that she'd first felt the gloriousness of all this world had to offer her: of a warm, bustling, intensely-loyal family so at peace among the fantasy; of a comfortable, chaotic home held together with the threads of a magic that to this day mystified and delighted her in equal measure; of being a part of a group that cared for each other so fiercely – of being needed and coddled and teased and wanted and looked after and loved. Of loving them all in return, in some way or other. Ron and Ginny and Molly and Arthur…even Percy, in some small measure. Charlie, Bill, George…Fred….

And she was leaving it all. Tomorrow morning, before the sun rose, she'd be rising from her comfortable cot in the room she and Ginny shared – for since fourth year, the room had been referred to as GinnyandHermione's, a fact that never failed to make her stomach jolt with the shock and pleasure of acceptance – and walking out the door between the two best friends she'd ever had as they silently snuck out of the house without saying their goodbyes. And they'd walk to the top of the nearest hill and perhaps turn and silently survey the sloppiest, loveliest, most wonderful little place she'd ever known.

And then they'd be gone.

She finally released her breath in a soft sigh, the tension creeping from her shoulders to leave the heavy ache of resignation in its place. Turning, she walked silently back to the porch, quietly opening the door and creeping into the kitchen, refusing to look back for fear that if she did she would never be able to leave. She made her way through the darkened rooms until she reached the stairs and began to climb, taking care not to tread too heavily. She'd made her way up five or six steps when a slight noise behind her made her turn.

Fred stood in the shadows at the base of the staircase, his hands in his pockets and an unreadable expression on his face. He didn't say anything, and neither did she, so for a few infinite moments they stood there and merely looked at one another; long, searching glances that on any other occasion might have had them wondering exactly what they were looking for. And then he broke the silence.

"Hermione."

"Fred." Her acknowledgment was soft, as his had been.

"You're up late."

"I am."

"You're tired."

"Very much so."

"You're leaving in the morning."

"Yes," much softer, "yes, we are."

His blue eyes probed hers, and she was suddenly much more exhausted than before at the sorrow she saw in them.

"You're not coming back."

"Not any time soon," softer still, "no." He acknowledged that briefly, remaining silent as he continued to gaze searchingly at her. After a moment, he gave a short nod, and she bobbed her head at him in return, meeting his eyes one last time, and turned to move back up the stairs, unable to say the words that meant goodbye.

"D'you ever wonder," he asked suddenly as she turned away, "what it would be like if you weren't you and I wasn't me and we weren't caught up in all of this?" And she froze, her back to him, and heard in between his words everything he wasn't saying. Do you ever wonder what we could be, if we were just two people without all these cares and obligations and the world wasn't falling apart?

She turned slightly to look at him over her shoulder. He was still standing there, just as he had been when he'd first spoken, but his expression was earnest and plaintive, and his eyes were trained on hers, full of a wistfulness that made the ache in her chest too tight to breathe, and he was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen, and God, her heart was going to burst…

"All the time," she admitted in a whisper. He almost-smiled, sadly.

"Me too," he said softly, and the wistfulness was in his voice now, too.

She screwed her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry. There it was; out in the open. The admission of exactly what she'd be leaving behind in a few hours; exactly what she'd be losing, laid out neatly for her to see. And now leaving would be that much more difficult. She drew a deep shuddering breath, and met his gaze once more.

"Promise me something," he said, in an earnest, serious voice she'd never heard him use before. At her mute nod, he continued.
"Promise me that you'll stay safe when you go. Promise me that you'll look after Harry and Ron and help them end all this, and that once it's all over, you'll come back and we'll stop wondering."

Oh, god. Oh, god. "I promise."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He considered her for another long moment, his eyes trailing slowly over her face before locking back on hers.

"Alright, then," he said with a soft smile. She swallowed hard, not trusting her voice, and nodded softly, turning back to the stairs. She'd only moved up a few steps before she stopped again and turned back once more, looking at him hard, imprinting the image of him as he was at that moment into her memory to keep there always. She didn't know how long she stood there, silently watching him, but after a time she met his gaze one last time and smiled gently.

"You…you will…just be safe, alright?" He answered her with his usual jaunty, crooked grin, jerking his chin up at her.

"See you on the other side, Granger." She smiled again, letting her eyes linger on his face a moment longer, nodding.

"Goodbye, Fred." Raising her hand to him in farewell, she turned and disappeared up the dark stairs.

A few hours later, before the sun rose, she stood from her comfortable cot in the room she and Ginny shared and walked out the door between the two best friends she'd ever had as they silently snuck out of the house without saying their goodbyes. They walked to the top of the nearest hill and turned and she silently surveyed the loveliest, sloppiest, most wonderful little place she'd ever known.

And then they were gone.

Months later, when everything was over and the end began and the world around her was quiet and still, she woke, hours before the sun rose, and stood from her comfortable cot in the room she and Ginny shared and walked through the hallway and down the stairs. A few steps from the bottom of the staircase she stopped and sat there alone, hugging her knees to her chest and remembering a bright, lively boy with soft blue eyes and a smile that made her heart skip.

"Promise me that you'll stay safe when you go. Promise me that you'll look after Harry and Ron and help them end all this, and that once it's all over, you'll come back and we'll be able to stop wondering."

"I promise."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

She had stayed safe. She had helped Harry and Ron end it all, and when it was over, she had come back. And for the first time in seven years, she knew what it was to be JustHermione, with no "all of this" to be caught up in.

"Alright, then. See you on the other side, Granger."

And she was still wondering.