It was the beginning to a beautiful day. The breeze from an opened window hugged Daphne from where she stood, filling her nose with the scent of rain. She smiled, it was the first morning this week where it had not rained, but there was never an escape from it. There was always a reminder of the rain, and on this clear day it was the distinct smell of the ozone. She slowly walked towards her window in her pajamas-an over-sized Quidditch shirt from her father and shorts-to examine the weather outside. Her window's view showed the Slytherin just how nice the day truly was, the birds were chirping and despite the early hour, there were plenty of people about. The sky was a marvelous shade of blue, and only a few fluffy clouds lingered. Daphne was relieved that her picnic with her best friend Tracey Davis would not be ruined by the threat of rain. It had been a month since she had seen her friend, ever since the last battle at Hogwarts, and she had been planning this day for a week. With one last look at the streets of London and its inhabitants, she spun around to begin her day.

Daphne was a pretty girl, much prettier than most. Her whole life she could remember being the prettiest in class, the never-ending amount of valentine's sweets she received when she attended muggle primary school, the constant looks that boys and men sent her way... Hello, my eyes are up here! It was enough to drive her crazy; she never wanted all this attention-despite what her sister Astoria believed. She developed her notorious "Ice Queen" persona to keep men at bay, but her piercing blue eyes and tough-to-get attitude only seemed to draw in more men. She walked to her wardrobe and began to pick out the day's clothes, which was always a challenging task when you had as much clothes as Daphne Greengrass.

After an hour or so, Daphne was ready for her day with Tracy. She was dressed to perfection, her mother would never tolerate less and if she were honest with herself, neither would she. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, a look she only usually reserved for the summer, and the only makeup she had applied was around her eyes. "Beautiful as always" her enchanted mirror announced as she stood in front of it to observe herself. It was a gift from her mother, meant to give feedback and advice to the user (although the mirror rarely ever gave advice to the nearing seventeen years old witch). She wore a green-patterned summer dress, a color that always looked good on her, and a silver chain that was a gift from her father. She gave her a mirror a polite thanks and curtsy as her mother taught, and headed downstairs to where she would find her family. Once in the kitchen, she found the patriarch of the Greengrass family absent-mindedly stirring his coffee with his wand; his brown eyes focused on the Quidditch section of the Daily Prophet.

"Morning, Daph" her father said without looking up from his paper. He brought his coffee up to his lips and took a sip. With a content sigh, he placed his cup and paper down to look at his eldest daughter. "Sleep tight?"

Daphne nodded her response and took the seat directly across from her father. She saw her mother, Mrs. Greengrass, using magic to cook up some pancakes. Mrs. Greengrass turned to greet her daughter, then summoned some eggs from their fridge to cook with her wand. Daphne's younger sister Astoria was nowhere to seen, which was something the Greengrass family was used to. It was the summer after all, and Astoria, like their father, enjoyed her sleep. Astoria seemed to get most of her looks and traits from their father, everything from film-taste to their shared black hair and brown eyes. On the other hand, Daphne and her mother looked as if they could be sisters. They both had the same blonde hair, womanly figure, and electric blue eyes that had the ability to stop anyone dead in their tracks.

"Meeting with Tracy today dear?" Daphne's mother asked, turning away from the eggs for a moment to look at her daughter.

"Yup. We're going for a picnic at the park," Daphne started. "It'll be good to see her."

"Be careful," her father began "I don't care what the Prophet says. It's still not entirely safe."

Daphne rolled her eyes towards her father, something she and her mother also shared. "I'll be fine dad! Potter's won. You-Know-Who won't be back again. And besides, I'm almost seventeen. I think I can handle myself." Daphne responded to her father.

"Yes I know that, dear. All I'm saying is that it might not be as safe as we think. For all we know there can still be Death Eaters about attempting to complete You-Know-Who's bidding! And Merlin knows they won't be too kind towards a 'blood traitor'."

"I'm sure Scarhead, the bloody 'chosen one', and his gang of stupid Gryffindors have them all locked up by now," Daphne laughed. Who would have thought, Potter really was the chosen one.

Daphne's mother smiled and returned to the cooking eggs. "We'll need to head into Diagon Alley soon as well. Astoria and your letters from Hogwarts should be arriving any day now, and Merlin knows you need new robes now that you're returning to finish your last year."

"What's wrong with her old robes?" Mr. Greengrass questioned from behind his paper.

With a pop two plates filled with eggs and pancakes appeared in front of the father and daughter. Mrs. Greengrass took a seat by her husband and took a sip of her tea before responding, "She's a growing lady, Dan. Her robes fit tightly around her-"

"Nevermind. I don't need to know." Dan Greengrass interrupted with a raised hand. With a reddened face he hesitantly looked at his grinning wife and distraught daughter before beginning to eat in silence. Mrs. Greengrass let out a small chuckle and turned to her daughter with a wink. At that moment the three heard a small tapping by one of their kitchen windows. It was a brown messenger owl, and Daphne went to open the door for the familiar Gringotts owl.

"Hello, how are you?" Daphne smiled. Not many people besides Tracy knew, but Daphne absolutely adored owls. She cooed and pet the owl with a single, hooked finger. After giving the owl a treat and untying the letter from its right leg, it flew off.

"Dad, you've got another letter from Gringotts... Oh! Wait. It's actually for me."

"For you? Why would Gringotts be sending anything to you? You're not of age, at least not for a few more days. Let me see it." Her father stood from his seat, hand outreached towards his daughter. Daphne obliged and placed the letter into the hands of her father.

Curiosity got the best of Daniel Greengrass and he opened the letter. Almost immediately his face was drained from color. He sat in his seat as he continued to read, a shocked expression plastered across his aging face.

"What is it, Dan?" Mrs. Greengrass questioned. She too stood in an attempt to read the letter over her husband's shoulder. Within a short moment her hand was covering her mouth and her eyes were as wide as a barn door.

"What in the name of Merlin is going on?" Daphne asked as she tried to reach for her letter.

"I think you better sit down, Daphne." Her parents shakily said in unison.

"Drink up, Potter" Madame Pomfrey demanded. Harry sat up in his bed at the infirmary at Hogwarts. Most of his chest and right shoulder was bandaged tightly. His skin was paler than usual, but his health had improved tremendously within the last few weeks. If he kept up with Madame Pomfrey's orders, she had said he could find himself leaving the infirmary within a week or two. He felt a familiar squeeze on his hand, and turned to find Hermione silently urging him to take his potion. With a nod, he grabbed the vile substance and downed it within a few seconds. It tasted just as horrible as the Polyjuice potion, but had an even worse after taste. In between his gags Madame Pomfrey thanked him for his participation and began to remove his bandages. Most of his wounds were easy to heal, but not the one on his chest: Voldemort's last gift to the world. No magic known to Madame Pomfrey could fully heal the mark from the Killing Curse, there had never been a need to heal one hit from the Avada Kedavra before...

Hermione still gasped every time she laid eyes on his chest. Harry wished she didn't, as it silently killed him. She had a few tears in her eyes, but the witch attempted not to break down and cry again. The last battle at Hogwarts had caused a lot of damage and pain. The castle was in ruins (luckily the castle was rebuilt within a few things thanks to magic), and there had been many casualties...too many casualties. Despite all the pain and destruction, Hermione managed to cry the most for Harry. It wasn't fair for him to have gone through and experience such a hurt-filled life and to single-handedly have to destroy the Dark Lord. She was still mostly shook up by the idea of Harry being dead, and was plagued with nightmares of Hagrid carrying Harry's broken body back to Hogwarts.

Madame Pomfrey was now applying a rubbing-lotion onto his wounds: A large, black and menacing gash locating directly in the middle of his chest and back. Since her treatment it had improved dramatically, but Harry knew that he would be marked for life. Hermione was asked to help apply the potion, as Madame Pomfrey went to prepare more of it for later. Her touch was tentative, but delicate to Harry's skin. Secretly the contact with his best friend sent shivers down Harry's back, and if anyone had ever asked Hermione, she would say the same. Over the past month Harry found his only company to be the Hogwarts staff and Hermione, as Ron had been at the Burrow mourning with his family. Harry discovered that he enjoyed Hermione's company more so than before, and started to feel confused with his emotions around her. He found it equally as confusing when he found himself dreaming of the brunette more often; he rarely dreamt of Ginny any more. She grabbed his hand once more when she finished applying the rubbing-potion and took a seat by him. She gave him a sad smile; it hurt Hermione more than Harry was in pain to see him in his current state. Harry gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, and the two spent the next few minutes in silence until Madame Pomfrey returned. Harry was re-bandaged and given his Sleeping Draught potion.

After a few moments, his vision turned blurry. Darkness was taking over his vision as he began to fall asleep-the image of Hermione holding his hand was the last thing Harry saw before sleep took him.