The world was too cruel. Just the simple business of living and dying demanded too much out of people. Hermione could understand all too well why there were those people who existed that just wanted to find any out they could. As she sat in the chair next to her personal fireplace in her room at the Three Broomsticks the morning after her unexpected visit with Ginny, she felt more isolated and exhausted than she had in a long time. Was what she was doing even worth the energy? Was she making any bit of difference?