Her shoes clicked on the tile floor, echoing around the otherwise deadly silent hallway. Despite it being the only noise, the man she strode toward did not give any motion that indicated he heard her walking. He kept his head bent, slouched against the sterile white wall, steadfastly staring at his shoes.

It was only once her own shoes, pointy, expensive, and black, came into view that he acknowledged her presence. When he did, it was with a brief duck, sadly reminding her of a puppy she once had that would whine whenever they had to put it outside. Her heart clenched and she swallowed thickly.

"He's awake." She said it quietly, her eyes darting to the blank white wall above his head. She could just barely see his shaggy black hair, the way it was sexily tousled as if she had just run her hands through it with a moan of delight. Sudden tears sprang to her eyes and she blinked rapidly.

He did not say anything in return. She did not expect him to, as he was generally a quiet sort who only spoke when he felt his words had real meaning and even less when he thought his words couldn't have meaning enough. He merely lifted his head and stared her down with eyes so dark they looked black.

She could have spent a hundred years looking at his face and still never be satisfied. He had a rugged look about him, with scruff that covered his strong chin and jaw line, scruff that would tickle her own cheeks when he would rub it against her. She'd try to sound annoyed, but the giggles always came out in the end. She lifted a hand and began to trace his features, pausing over the parts she liked best. She delicately traced his lips which she'd felt so many times on her own skin, vividly remembering that his favorite way to say hello was to come up behind her, encircle her waist with one strong forearm, lift her hair gently with his other hand, and place wet kisses down her neck.

She dropped her hand and looked down. She didn't want him to see her tears as they dripped, heavy and warm, down her cheeks.

Immediately, his dark hand was there, turning her chin to face her head on. His obsidian eyes held so much emotion that they overwhelmed her almost more than the situation. They were devoid of tears, unlike her plain brown ones which spilled over with the salty drops.

She could see, however, without the tears just how much this affected him too. He hid behind his hair a little as if trying to shield himself from the reality and pain of the situation. A muscle in his jaw clenched repeatedly as it always did when he tried to hold his emotions in check, usually his anger.

She lifted her lips to his jaw and pressed them there, leaving a salty wetness behind. As she pulled away, he abruptly grabbed her lips in a slow kiss, caressing every part of her mouth and tongue as if trying to memorize her from the inside out. More hot tears squeezed out, and she grabbed his face as if it were her only life line. He pulled away reluctantly and kissed her tear stained cheeks.

She knew what it was. It was their final kiss.

He pulled away from her, but she latched on to his hand. His expression mirrored hers and told her just how much he hated this, just how much it crushed him. But there was nothing else they could do.

"Good-bye, Blaise," she whispered as his fingers slipped through hers. She watched, feeling utterly lost, as he walked away, ducking his head and stuffing his fists in his pockets. Despite how much she wanted him to, he did not, could not, coming running back to swoop her up in a kiss that made her insides warm. Never again.

She continued to stare at his retreating back, and the further he went the more she felt as if she was drowning. She couldn't do this, to just say good-bye and then go back to acting as if it was normal. She desperately wanted to run after him. She needed to go back into the room. She stood rooted to the spot, unable to do either.

"Hermione?"

The voice shocked her into action and she jumped around to see a young witch looking at her expectantly with her head poking out the door.

"Yes?" she replied absently, feeling her breath shudder as she did.

"Ron's asking for you. Why don't you dry those tears and come say hello to your husband?" she suggested kindly. "Five years is a long time; I'd be mighty happy too." Hermione gave a slow nod and the witch disappeared into the room.

She wiped her cheeks before heading to the door. After one final look back, to catch any glimpse of him that may still be there, she entered the room where her husband lay, ready to greet her, expecting to pick up life just as it had been, when she had moved on long ago.