The world around her continued, picking up the pieces, forming new friendships, new alliances, new relationships.
She was spinning, still trying to find solid ground, still trying to figure out her new place, her new role. After it all, what was she?
She knew she'd been their rock, been their source of information, been the one that made things make sense.
What was she now? They didn't need her anymore, not like that, did they need her at all? She didn't know.
Her name on his lips, it shouldn't have made her feel like it did. It shouldn't have had that kind of effect on her, but it did.
She turned. He was standing there, leaning on an ebony cane. His neck wrapped in a scarf to hide the bandages, to hide the scarring tissue.
“Sir,” she said back, wishing she could whisper his name, wishing she could let her lips utter those syllables
She wasn't sure what they were to each other now. In the war, he'd been her confidant, the one who gave her the final pieces to the puzzles, the riddles Dumbledore had left behind.
She had dreamed of it being more sometimes, of him touching her, kissing her, but she'd never allowed herself to act on those thoughts.
He was now standing in front of her, looking down at her, his eyes alight with a question he was too afraid to ask.
She knew it, she knew what he wanted to know, the same thing she did, and she stood on her toes, her lips pressing against his in answer.
They were them, together, safe and sound now the the war had ended, now that they'd each found their places with one another.