The silence around her felt a bit strange, yet comforting at the same time. Peaceful, the voice in her head told her and for a moment, the witch allowed herself to enjoy take a deep breath and forget about all the tasks and questions that would be fired at her the next morning. She brushed her elegant long fingers through the slightly dewly grass and a soft smile graced her lips. The stars above her illuminated her surroundings and once again, Minerva couldn't quite fathom the thought that only hours ago, a devastating battle was raging on these very grounds – in which death had taken so many innocent souls. At the mere thought of it, her heart condradicted painfully, her throat tightened and a lonely tear rolled down her cheek. Sometimes, she wondered why an old witch like her made it out of this war alive, while others – students and friends, who would still have decades to live – didn't.

"I'm glad you made it," a soft voice from behind her whispered.

Slightly startled, Minerva turned around and watched Hermione coming closer.

"I'm sorry," she apologized once she sat down next to the older witch, "I didn't mean to read your thoughts, but…"

The emerald eyed only waved her hand. "It's alright, dear. Apparently, I'm not quite able to keep my mind from wandering tonight."

Hermione smiled softly and followed Minerva's gaze to look at the stars. "It's strange, isnt' it? Months of fear and blood and pain and tonight, there's only silence."

Minerva nodded wordlessly.

"The quiet scares people, because it screams the truth," the witch eventually answered. "Memories resurface, and the guilt that comes along with it tends to frightens us – much more than the actual war."

"The dark side of victory," Hermione mumbled sadly and once again, a moment of silence passed between the two witches.

"It takes time," Minerva eventually whispered; her voice thick with emotions as she tried to get rid of the images from the battle that once again flashed through her mind. "I've been through a war before… it takes time, but eventually, the pain lessens."

Hermione nodded, and without thinking, she snuggled closer to the elder witch, who in return, brought an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer.

Minutes passed, and neither of the two spoke, before Hermione rummaged through the pockets of her jacket and handed a snipped of parchment to the Headmistress. It had stains on it, and looked like it had been folded and opened millions of times.

"At first I thought Molly smuggled the note into my travel bag before Harry, Ron and I left for our mission," Hermione whispered and rested her head on Minerva's shoulder.

"... constant as the stars above, always know you will be loved ..."

"It took me some time… probably because there was no sign of emerald-green ink… but eventually, I realized that it had to be from you," she said without looking at the other woman, "you were the last person I spoke to before... well..."

Minerva smiled, titled her head so her cheek touched Hermione's hair.

"I thought you might find yourself in times when you need a little something to keep you going... To remind you that there is something - someone - to hold on to," Minerva admitted, "and well, when I was little... and something frightened me, I looked at the stars... and they gave me hope, and peace and…

"… the feeling that you'll never be alone," Hermione finished, her voice nothing more than a whisper.

Minerva only nodded. There was no need for words and she softly squeezed the younger woman's hands before they both continued to gaze at the stars – knowing that neither of them would have to deal with what was to come on their own.

words: 632

HPFC: Ship_Your_Character Challenge: 1. MinervaHermione