The Minister signed off the peace treaty just over a week ago, but despite popular expectation, peace has not been an instantaneous thing. Aurors and Hit Wizard squadrons are being brought back from the continent daily, while the newspapers report on the battle between Grindelwald and Dumbledore from every possible angle. Given any other context, and with more time on her hands, Hermione Granger would be glued to the news.

Peace doesn't stop people from being wounded, however, so her days are exactly the same as they have been for the past three years since joining the Order, fresh out of Hogwarts: filled with hard, exhausting work. Since about a year ago, when a stray Crucio nearly sent her into a very early grave, she has been working in St Mungo's with the wounded who are recovered from the battlefield.

Today is the first day in so very, very many that she has come on shift to the sound of laughter. A glance at her coworker later, and the young woman informs her that a few former Quidditch stars turned soldiers have been brought in for physical rehabilitation, and that the young lads haven't been shy of entertaining the convalescent with some old stories.

Her heart jumps to her throat when she hears a familiar, long-unheard booming laugh, and before her coworker can finish counting which stars are in ward, she's pushed through the double doors and rushed in - only to stop half-way into the grand room, a laugh of pure relief escaping her and startling a few of her patients.

She knew she recognised it. Him. "Viktor!"