𝘋𝘈𝘕𝘊𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏 𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘚 𝘛𝘐𝘌𝘋/𝘵𝘰𝘮 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 (English version)

Chapter 76

The next morning, Sarah woke up for the first time in a long while with a forgotten sensation: peace.

Her eyes opened slowly, still veiled with sleep, and rested on Tom, who was lying beside her.
His face was relaxed, his chest rising and falling steadily, a lock of hair falling across his forehead.
He looked younger like that, almost vulnerable. She smiled softly, and for a moment, just one, she wished time would stop right there, in that simple, perfect moment.

She reached out and gently caressed his face, with the tenderness of someone afraid to break something precious.
Then, moving carefully, she sat up and slipped out of bed.
Her bare feet touched the cold floor, and a shiver ran up her spine. She walked to the window, where the early morning light filtered through the glass and painted the room with golden reflections.

The sea was there, silent, and for the first time in days, calm.
The low sun made the water glimmer as if it had been dusted with gold. Sarah closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, letting that silence wrap around her.

Then she turned, cast one last glance at Tom, still deep in sleep, and walked toward the door. She opened it slowly, careful not to make a sound, and stepped into the quiet hallway.
She went down the stairs, one step at a time, and reached the kitchen.

It was simple, all done in white and blue tones, but the warmth came from the people who lived there.
At the center, with her back turned, Hermione was making herself a cup of tea.
Her wavy hair was tied up messily, and the robe she wore was a little wrinkled.

"Can I?" Sarah asked hesitantly.

Hermione flinched slightly, then turned. As soon as she saw Sarah, her face lit up with a smile that was part relief, part wonder.

"Sarah! Of course you can. Come in."

Sarah stepped into the room, her movements cautious, still restrained. Hermione said nothing more, simply returned to the stove.

"Want me to make you something?" she asked after a moment.

"A tea would be perfect... thank you," Sarah answered softly, sitting down on one of the chairs. Her hands, resting in her lap, trembled slightly, but she made no effort to hide it, she couldn't control it.

Hermione prepared a second cup. Every gesture was thoughtful, quiet, full of that tenderness only affection can teach.
When she handed it over, Sarah took it with both hands, trying to appear at least a little less anxious.

"Want some honey?" Hermione asked.

Sarah nodded. The honey sweetened the tea... and that moment too.

They sat in silence, facing each other, each lost in her own thoughts. Then Hermione looked up and fixed her gaze on Sarah. Her eyes welled with emotion.

"I thought... we'd see each other again under better circumstances," she said quietly.

Sarah set her cup down and nodded. "Me too. Maybe as victors, or maybe just... free. But not like that. Not there, with them."

Hermione reached out and touched her arm, a natural, instinctive gesture.
As if no time had passed at all. As if nothing had truly changed.

"We thought about you every day, you know? Harry... Harry wanted to go look for you. You're the only family he has left. And when we saw you... like that..." Her voice broke.

"He shouldn't blame himself," Sarah whispered. "For a while, Hogwarts was a refuge. We resisted, me and the others. We did everything we could. Then Bellatrix came, and..."
She trailed off. Swallowed hard, trying not to cry. "It was... hell in there."