I own nothing: every character, place and spell belongs to J.K. Rowling. I'm just playing with them.

English isn't my first language (it's my third, actually), and I don't have a beta, so please forgive me for any errors and/ or discrepancies.

Seven months had passed since the Battle of Hogwarts, and Harry Potter was, once again, crawling through the Forbidden Forest. He'd been here every day for eight days: he arrived in the early hours of the morning and departed when the sun set and the forest became too dark. He'd been in trouble a few times, and once even had to negotiate with the remaining Centaurs, who, once they understood, agreed to leave him alone in his search.

He'd tried every Spell and Charm he could think of. He'd gone through several of Hermione's books and tried to find something, but nothing seemed to help. His eyes ached, his heart clenched painfully and he'd barely eaten for weeks now, only wolfing down food when the pangs of hunger overwhelmed him. Ginny had returned to Hogwarts to complete her schooling: Ron had withdrawn from Auror training. Harry Potter was missed daily, but nobody questioned his whereabouts: they presumed he was mourning.

It was getting dark, and the final Charm he'd tried failed to produce results. He knew he was in the right place: he knew it should have worked, but it didn't. Frustration became anger and rage, and Harry Potter's green eyes narrowed with blind fury.

"Confringo!"

The ground exploded wildly, and a flock of ravens took wing with frightened and loud caws from somewhere South of the clearing.

"Confringo! Confringo! Confringo! Confringo! Confringo!"

Harry was now panting, covered in dirt, twigs and leaves. A small stone had cut a wound through his cheek, and leaves were slowly fluttering down to the soil that was now littered with large craters. Harry fell on his knees, crying desperately.

It took him several minutes to get himself somewhat back together. He crawled on his feet and rubbed his aching calves: it was getting chilly and the soil was uncomfortable. His head ached miserably. He was about to depart when his eyes fell on something small and familiar on the ground: it had almost been covered by a torn leaf, but there it was. The explosions had brought it to the surface, and he'd almost missed it.

Harry fell to his knees and picked it up greedily, barely daring to believe it, but there it was. It was just as he remembered it: he thought he'd seen the last of it when he dropped it here, seven months ago, ready to die.

The Resurrection Stone.

Harry swallowed thickly and rose to his feet. He looked around to make sure he was alone, and calming down, he closed his eyes for a moment, then turned the Stone thrice.

There they were again, so familiar, so loved and missed.

Lily Potter, with her beautiful auburn locks and her green eyes, the eyes Harry saw every time he looked into a mirror.

James Potter, who looked so much like Harry, but his eyes hazel; he was a bit older than Harry, but not by much.

Sirius Black, all charm and carefree smiles now.

Remus Lupin, gentle Remus, but now his wife was with him: Nymphadora Lupin, Tonks, was clutching her husband, and smiling gently at Harry.

And there were new ones there. Fred Weasley was there, his smile just as mischievous as it had always been, and Colin Creevey, who waved at Harry quite happily. Then Fred and Colin left, taking a few steps away and fading. Tonks kissed her husband's cheek, winked at Harry and left, blowing a kiss to Remus, who smiled gently at her. Harry was now facing his parents, his godfather and Remus.

Two new figures joined them now, coming into view from somewhere, the same place the others had gone to.

He was still tall, his black hair falling like a curtain and dressed in black robes, but he was more relaxed now. He smiled gently at the girl who was tucked safely under his arm.

She was just as Harry remembered her: her hair was still just as bushy, her brown eyes gentle and kind and warm. She wasn't as painfully skinny as she'd been: she seemed healthy now, and happy. She smiled up at the dark and imposing man who nuzzled her with his long, hooked nose and closed his eyes in clear satisfaction.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, his knees feeling weak. He couldn't understand what he was seeing: the relief of seeing her again, and the pain of it all, and the confusion over her, the Gryffindor Golden Girl, being held gently by the surly old Potions Master.

Hermione nodded. "Hello, Harry," she said gently.

"Why, Hermione? Why'd you do it?"

"I couldn't go on without Severus, Harry. It was just too much. Too much pain, and I couldn't."

"But you and Ron..."

"It never would have worked, Harry. Ron and I were just too different. Severus and I fell in love. We really didn't mean it to happen, but it did. I'd had a crush on him since my fourth year, and during my sixth, we..."

"But you were crying over Ron!" Harry cried.

"No, Harry. It was never about Ron and me."

"I was being a fool and resisting her," Professor Snape said quietly, kissing her curls gently, "and Albus was making the situation twice as difficult. He didn't want me to have anyone for support, and he never thought I was worthy of her. I was humbled and thrilled that she chose to believe otherwise."

"But you loved my mum!" Harry accused the dark man. To his great surprise, Lily, James Sirius and Remus all burst to laughter, Hermione giggled and even Severus chuckled with amusement.

"No, Harry," Lily said. "Sev and I never felt anything like that. We were the best of friends... and in the end I wasn't a very good friend to him."

"But his memories..."

"Occlumency, Potter," Snape said calmly. "It was Dumbledore's idea to give you false memories to encourage you for self-sacrifice. He was a very ruthless man."

"But your Patronus! It was a doe, like mum's!"

"The doe was Ginevra Weasley's Patronus," Snape told him quietly. "Her Patronus changed after you left. It now matches yours. I had her converse with Dumbledore's portrait and showed her some memories to get her agreement, and I'm afraid I had to Obliviate the memory, for she was at risk of being interrogated."

"So it was all lies. All of it."

"Not all of it. I accidentally betrayed my best friend and spent my life repenting and paying for the mistake. A lonely life, until I fell in love with a brilliant, vivacious young Gryffindor... your best friend."

"We were lovers by the end of our sixth year," Hermione continued. "Severus told me everything, and I had to swear an Unbreakable Vow not to reveal his involvement to you. We had no idea that Dumbledore had orchestrated his death for the Elder Wand... he meant for you to defeat or possibly even kill Severus in battle."

"And because of me, your love died, and you decided to..."

"It wasn't your fault, Harry," Hermione interrupted him gently. "Dumbledore was determined to win at whatever the cost."

"I never wanted her to kill herself," Severus Snape added. "I wished she'd continue with her life, allow the world to experience her brilliance like I had."

"I couldn't," she said quietly, and snuggled closer to the fearsome Potions Master. Harry noticed that his mother had taken a similar position in the arms of his father, and they were all looking at Snape and Hermione with gentle forgiveness.

"We're grieving for you, Hermione," Harry said sadly.

"I know, Harry, I know," she replied sadly. "It was a quick and painless potion. I didn't suffer."

"Ron's a mess," he confessed.

"He'll get over it, eventually. We'd never have worked, he and I."

"I wished you would. We all did. It'd be four of us, you and Ron and me and Gin, raising our kids together. I dreamt of it, you know, how you'd be the youngest Minister for Magic, and we'd bring all our children to Hogwarts Express..."

"No, Harry, I'm sorry, it was just a dream," she said sadly. "My place was with Severus. "

"And mine with her," Snape added, "always."

"I'll miss you. All of you," Harry told them all.

"We'll always be with you," Remus said, "and we'll meet again, one day."

"Not for a long time, though," Sirius said and smiled his carefree smile.

"We do love you, Harry," Lily Potter said gently.

"And we always will," Hermione said.

"It's time to let us go, son," James said quietly. "Just know that you're never alone."

"I love you guys," Harry sighed, and let the stone fall.

He was alone now, or perhaps not. They'd promised, the same promised they'd made before, and Harry Potter didn't feel quite as lonely or helpless.

He'd request having Hermione's grave moved next to Professor Snape's grave, so that the two lovers could rest together for eternity. It'd be a struggle, and Ron wouldn't understand — very few would, he imagined — but he owed it to both Hermione and Professor Snape, both victims of late Albus Dumbledore's lethal game against the equally late Tom Riddle.

Harry picked up the Resurrection Stone and looked at it. This time he hesitated for a moment before slipping it into his pocket.

He had a struggle ahead of him, but Harry Potter was used to fighting against all odds.

When he left, the clearing was silent and empty again.