For the last time ever, Hermione entered the Astronomy Tower with a careless flick of her wand and a simple whisper of "alohomora", crawled through the hidden passageway she had discovered in her third year but had told no one about, and climbed over the ledge of a tiny window that overlooked the Hogwarts grounds. She settled herself comfortably against the cool bricks of the roof she had walked out onto and absentmindedly studied the hooting owls that were flying overhead, clutching letters in their talons. For the last time ever, she was experiencing the astounding beauty of the way Hogwarts looked at night. Tomorrow was the last day of her seventh year, and in the morning she would board the train home and never come back.

Hermione loved it here, on the rooftop of one of the highest turrets in the castle. For seven years, it had served as her one niche of solitude, a sort of sanctuary where she could be alone at night with her wandering mind for as long as she preferred. Nobody, not even Filch, knew about this place - that is, except for Harry (and probably Fred and George, but they had long since graduated Hogwarts and started their own wizard joke shop in Hogsmeade).

Tonight, she had come here searching for the kind of solace that is found in nostalgia, the kind of comfort that lies in reliving moments of joy even when you're surrounded by pain. She had come here once again to reflect upon the memories of her seven years as a witch-in-training, seven years spent with a person who had meant the world to her. He was the reason she was here again; it was his memory that she had come out onto the rooftop to cherish. One particularly vivid memory stood out in her mind, so she closed her eyes and transported herself back to that time, just two autumns ago, when she had stood in the exact same spot she was now and had found a love that she'd never dreamed possible.