Loving the Lonely

Prologue

     After the war, it's unnerving how quickly life returns to normal, in appearance at least. With magic, entire buildings are lifted from the rubble in mere hours. Before too long, there is hardly any physical damage left, and it's almost as if the war had never happened. 

There is other damage though, not visible to the naked eye, hidden just below the surface. 

When daylight hours are spent rebuilding, only the dark nights show the true wounds left on the survivors. Families torn apart, friends drifting away, people themselves being ripped apart by the memories of pained cries and light leaving their loved ones eyes forever. Men and woman and children and everyone in between. Not a soul is left untouched in the magical world. 

Then the letters come. A pristine sheet of parchment, wrapped up in manila envelops with the ever-familiar wax seal pressed into the outside.

"A Hogwarts letter," Ron Weasley mutters, turning the envelope over in his hands. The quiet shuffle of the heavy paper can be heard over the bustle of the diner. Across the table, Hermione Granger is holding her own letter with the very tips of her fingers and Harry Potter refuses to pick his back up where he had discarded it in the center of the table.  

"You don't think it's-" Hermione swallows, takes a sip of her tea to dislodge the lump in her throat, "-about last May, do you?" Even she, for all her courage, can't find the will to speak of what had happened. It's hardly been more than a few months. 

"It'd better not be," Harry growls, scowling. "I told them we were to have this summer without being called up for any business." His expression startles the two others, enough so that they both gingerly set their letters down. Ron clutches Harry's shoulder and Hermione grabs his hand. 

"I'm sure it isn't," Hermione assures. "You made it rather clear we aren't to be bothered." 

The front bell tinkles and Ginny Weasley bursts into the diner with a red face and blazing eyes. A waitress rounds on her, prepared to scold Ginny, but the waitress catches sight of Ginny's face and turns quickly away again. 

Harry smiles in greeting but Ginny ignores him. "Have you three read the letters?" She bellows, slapping her own down onto the table. All three friends shake their heads as their cups and plates rattle. "Read them, now," Ginny commands. She grabs an empty chair from a nearby table and drags it closer, not caring when it squeals across the tiled floor. She drops into it with a long sigh, glaring down at her letter, then around at her friends. "Well get on with it!" 

Reaching out, Harry tangles his fingers with hers and brings their joined hands up to press a kiss to her knuckled. "Calm down, Gin', you'll scare the others," he soothes, his own anger gone in the face of hers. 

Ginny takes a slow breath and manages a soft smile, but the crimson hasn't left her cheeks. 

"It can't be that awful," Ron argues, albeit weakly. His gaze stray to his envelope, nestled between his half-eaten pastry and a glass of juice. He picks it up again, pulling at the corners until it opens, then frees the parchment inside. 

Harry and Hermione watch with bated breath while he reads, watch his blue eyes grow impossibly wider each time they slide down to a new line. Once he's finished, he groans and tosses the paper onto the table, where is lands half on top of Harry's turkey sandwich remains and is stained by mustard. 

"Ron, what did it say?" Hermione asks, leaning forward. 

"Well they aren't calling on us for official business or some other bloody idea. Though, I think I'd almost prefer it to what we actually have to do," Ron replies. He sips at his juice, brow furrowing. "Merlin knows why they need us back." 

With a frown, Hermione grabs her own letter and tears it open. The parchment feels dusty in her hands, making her skin feel dry. As she reads the words, though, her dry hands are the last thing she can think of. 

This is how the students of Hogwarts found out they are required to return to Hogwarts, and the previous seventh years are meant to join them. While Harry fumes, and Ginny vows to speak with the Minister, and Ron drops his head onto the table with a quiet noise of pain, Hermione just sits and wonders how she'll bring the conversation up to her parents. 

That is, if they'll even speak to her. 

Merlin, she prays this year will turn out better than the past months have been for her. Anything would be better than what she's been through.