After dinner, Ginny conjured a second bed for Hermione in her room, just like they used to sleep when the house was full. Hermione didn't know if it was out of grief that the other rooms weren't used, or if Ginny assumed she didn't want to be alone. She didn't ask.

Hermione couldn't sleep. So she stared at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the Burrow hanging over her as she listened to Ginny breathe in the darkness. Something was missing. And it wasn't just the dead.

It felt like she'd lost something. As though she'd been stitched together sloppily, like a puzzle with missing pieces. Or perhaps all the pieces were there, but they were just in the wrong places.

It was two in the morning when a soft voice called to her across the bedroom. "Tell me something about him. Something I'll know is true."

Hermione blinked at the ceiling. She opened her mouth to tell her about the tattoos. About the Horcrux, and Dolohov. But that wasn't what Ginny was asking.

It took her a full minute to speak. "He knew I drank coffee. He had coffee delivered to my room every morning."

The room was so quiet, she wondered if Ginny had fallen asleep. And then — "Your room?"

Hermione turned her head to the grey shape of Ginny in the darkness. "Yes. I had my own suite."

She ached to tell her more, but she held herself back.

Ginny turned over to face the wall and murmured, "Okay."

~*~

In the morning, Hermione meditated and organized her mind. Ginny slept soundly on the other side of the room while she steadied her shelves, mentally reciting her arguments for her meeting with the True Order. She needed to be prepared.

She showered, and when she returned to the bedroom, Ginny was gone. So she borrowed clothes from Ginny's closet, dressed quickly, and joined the table for breakfast.

It was just as silent as it had been yesterday. After an hour of ignoring her, George stood from the table and said, "You ready to go?"

She blinked up at him. "Oh. Yes." After clearing her plate, she followed him to the fireplace. She glanced at Bill, but he remained seated.

George took a handful of Floo powder before handing it over to her. He called out, "Ministry of Magic," and didn't look behind him as he disappeared in a burst of green flames.

Hermione's stomach clenched at the thought of returning to the Ministry, but she had to go. Squaring her shoulders, she threw the powder and stepped into the fireplace.

She stumbled out into the deserted Ministry Atrium, gaping up at the domed blue ceiling. The Magic Is Might fountain was gone — only the dust of demolition left behind.

George was already walking toward the bank of lifts to the left. She rushed to follow him, listening to his footsteps echo off the dark wood floor. He tugged open the grate of an arriving lift and held it open for her, not meeting her eyes.