And Hermione feels tears build in her eyes again. Feels the quiver in her lips because of the pain still slicing through her synapses, because of the desperation that comes with the knowledge that the war is far from over and they’ll have to find a way to keep fighting if they ever make it out of this purgatory. Because the war made them the worst version of who they really were sacrifices were necessary for the survival of the good, but she had dared to hope even when it utterly broke her. Even when she wished for death in the dark of the night and it did not come, she hoped someone might say her name without malice despite everything that happened. 