Chasing Memories

Hermione's P.O.V
What day is it? I haven't the slightest idea! Everything's so...different! A week ago we we're running for our lives, now the world is just as dark, blood red, and covered in filth as before. But there's a lot less running.

I can see the change in his face, fatigue is slowly taking over him and he's barely slept since it happened. His hair seemed less orange and more dirty, probably since none of us have properly cleaned up in quite some time. And his blue eyes were no longer lit with life but filled with sorrow.

He took a long sip of coffee from the tray Kreacher laid out and pulled open the Daily Prophet. That paper should be torn to pieces with all the lies it contained, but they were considerably improving now it's writers could tolerate the three rather than just show their wanted posters.

He looked up from the paper as if he only just noticed I was standing here, although I'd been in the doorway of the Burrow's kitchen a good five minutes.
"Morning" he smiled.
"Afternoon actually" I replied.

None of us had been sleeping properly recently and our body clock's were all messed up, I'd only been sleeping during the day, him not at all, Harry now and again and Ginny only when she knew Harry was asleep and safe.

"Anything good?" I asked, referring to the news paper.
"Apparently we've had several exclusive interviews with them in the past two days" he chuckled. Of course this wasn't true, none of us had left the Burrow to go anywhere other than Grimmauld Place in 3 days.

Mrs. Weasley walked in, her face looked permanently tear stained and her eyes swollen. She was the only one who'd cried more than George. Who could blame them, she'd lost a son and him half of himself.

I sat down next to Ginny, directly across from Ron. He gave me a little smile, which through all that's happened, acted as a beacon of hope.