Recovering their lives has been a slow and arduous process. Many seem to think they're blessed, that they won the war and so everything is perfect, but those that fought in that war, they knew better. They had been there and gone through so much with them, and all of them were working their way through all they say and did. Some having a harder time than others. Hermione believes that they have come this far means a lot, that Harry has come this far, means the world to her.

Snuggling in close, she sighs. "I just wish we could make things better for you. I hate how much you suffer, Harry," she whispers, because as much as they work, he still is tormented and it hurts her so much. She loves him and wishes he had the happiness all the way around he deserves and not being reminded of the most horrific things he's been through.

She laughs with him, even as she shushs him. Opening her mouth to speak when they're interrupted.

"I think you two are bloody loud, especially to the nice guy sleeping in the chair to be helpful to you both."

It only makes Hermione laugh more.