"Hi, Hermione," Harry smiled broadly. He had heard someone flooing in, and he had hoped that it would be Ron and Hermione. She stood before the fireplace alone, though. Harry's smile faded away, as he noticed her red eyes. Had she been crying?

"What's happened?" He asked gently, and went to give her a hug. She always hugged him when she wanted him to feel better. Harry figured out it should work both ways. And besides, he liked hugging Hermione, even if he always felt like he was betraying Ron a bit while doing it.

"Did something happen to Ron?" he inquired, worried.

It was only four months after the final battle, during which the Dark Lord and majority of his servants died. A few of Death-Eaters hadn't been caught and imprisoned yet, though, and so the wizarding world wasn't as safe as everyone would like it to be. It was one of the reasons why Harry and Snape had still been living in Longbottom Manor. That, and also there was the bond of friendship which time and working together created between them. Oh, and Harry didn't feel like living alone, to be honest.

Hermione snorted derisively.

"Ron did something?" Now, that wouldn't be surprising either. If that stupid article in the Daily Prophet was truthful...

"He's such a jerk!" She exclaimed. Harry's eyebrows shot up. Hermione cursing?

"What did he do?" Harry asked and led Hermione to the library. If anything lifted her spirit, it was bound to be a collection of books. He knew the room would be deserted, as Neville was in his room and Snape had practically barricaded himself in his lab lately. Every time Harry saw him, the man mumbled something about too much time lost on a pathetic Dark Lord with a childhood complex.

Hermione was visibly struggling to keep her composure. She shook her head. "He's a stupid, immature and crude dimwit."

"You've sounded like Severus just now," Harry grinned, and he was heartened when she grinned back through her tears.

"I'll tell you later, I promise," Hermione smiled at him sadly. "Now tell me how you are?"

"I'm getting better. I was a mess, but I'm getting better," Harry repeated.

She seemed pensive, and nodded. Then she gazed at him expectantly. Harry thought she just wanted to get her mind away from Ron - and possibly his romance with a few fangirls if the press was to be believed. He obliged.

"We were planning the attack for months, as you already know, inventing and preparing The Potion - well, it was just Severus - gathering ingredients, strategies, contacting people, checking their loyalities, and so on," he shrugged and she nodded. "After the battle it felt like I had already done everything I was supposed to in my life. I felt lost. Left without purpose." he admitted.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione started crying anew, "I suspected you weren't okay, of course, but I let it slide when you assured us you feel fine. I should have-"

"I'm okay, really." Harry placated her. Why did girls have to cry so much? "I feel differently now. Free. Free of the Prophecy. Free of the expectations. Free of the task. Free of the past. Now I am just Harry. I'm browsing books and try to imagine what I would like to do for living."

That earned him Hermione's full attention. "At the moment," he informed her, "I think it would be fun to be a curse-breaker. Or maybe I'll ask Mr. Ollivander to teach me how to make wands. Or maybe I'll become a Wardsmith."

"Not an Auror, then?"

"Nah, I've had enough of that," Harry scoffed. "I don't think I would have ever wanted to be an Auror if everyone weren't expecting me to."

"They were pushing you to it," Hermione agreed. "It's good that you realised in time that it wasn't your path. I'm glad you recovered so fast, too."

"Neville and Severus helped me a lot," Harry smiled at her. "Neville explained to me that his Grandmother had always been persuading him to become an Auror as his father. He'd always known, though, that he could become a bad Auror or a good Herbologist. He told me that it was easier to live with others being disappointed in you than you being disappointed with you."

"We never gave Neville enough credit, did we," she said guiltily. She looked around as if trying to imagine a small Neville growing up inside these walls. Then she asked curiously. "What about Professor Snape? How did he help you?"

Harry shrugged. "He'd spent much more years fighting against Voldemort. After the final battle, though, he only packed all notes about The Potion, put books back to bookshelves, and announced he was years behind in his research of Medicinal potions."

Harry laughed. "Just like that, do you understand? No wallowing in the past and thinking his life ended with this mission. He just waltzed back into his lab, satisfied that now he had time for 'important'things."

"He's not coming back to Hogwarts?"

"Teaching was apparently a waste of his time too," Harry smirked at her, sure that it must irk her. To his surprise, his friend only nodded.

Then she sighed deeply. "My turn, I guess. Ron's been behaving like a spoiled brat. First he raved all the time that you left us behind so that you didn't have to share your fame."

Harry stood up, shocked. "I- ... "

"I know, Harry. I know you don't care about fame and if you left us behind it was for our safety."

"I didn't leave you behind on purpose. I was trying to find you," Harry found again his voice. Ron was so... Ron!

"I know. It's just Ron's stupid jealousy all over again. And then he started playing Quidditch, and... Well, we split up." Hermione shrugged. "Well, I guess I always knew we don't really suit each other."

Harry understood that for once the Prophet was right, and he decided he had heard enough. "Will you stay here? For a few days at least? I'm sure Neville won't mind."

"What about- "

"Severus won't even notice, probably," Harry laughed. He hoped Hermione would stay. He didn't think he would ever love any girl more than he loved Hermione.

And she stayed.