"We view things not only from different sides, but with different eyes; we have no wish to find them alike."- Blaise Pascal
"Hermione, where are you going," Ron called after her.
"I am not going to sit here and mourn," she said, not bothering to look back. "He’s not dead. Not to me."
"And just what do you think you’re going to do? We looked for him. A dozen man at the least. He wasn’t there. And no one knew where he is…or was."
"If you don’t want to go, then don’t. You can’t just leave your family like this, Ronald. They need you."
"And how do you think you’ll find him?"
Hermione spun around to face him. “I don’t know.” She sounded so defeated. Ron realized that Hermione wasn’t just facing the unknown. She was facing her two greatest fears: failure and Harry’s death.
What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again.