Chapter Text
The Daily Prophet
HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED DISAPPEARS
30 May 1998
In the midnight darkness of May 3, 1998, the students and professors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, stood in shock as they watched Groundskeeper Hagrid holding the lifeless body of Harry Potter next to a triumphant Dark Lord. The Boy Who Lived appeared to have succumbed to the Killing Curse and was pronounced dead by Narcissa Malfoy, wife of the Dark Lord’s right hand man, Lucius Malfoy. We now know that Potter was, in fact, alive and feigning his own death in a desperate attempt to disarm and defeat the Dark Lord. The details of how Potter survived a direct Killing Curse (for the second time) have not been released to the public despite this reporter's many requests for comment.
The next moments of the Battle of Hogwarts are currently being investigated by top Aurors and Ministry Officials. Here is what we know: The Dark Lord announced Potter’s death to the crowd of survivors and issued his threat of slaughter to anybody who dared to resist his new world order. Neville Longbottom, son of illustrious Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom, came forth, refusing to give up the fight. Voldemort, impressed by his bravery, offered Longbottom a place as a Death Eater. When Longbottom refused, the Dark Lord summoned the Sorting Hat from the school, placed it on a Body-Bound Longbottom, and set it on fire. Terrified rebels believed they were about to watch one of their brave classmates and a fellow resistance fighter burn alive.
It was at this pivotal moment that the forest creatures, including the previously neutral Centaurs and Gawp the giant, arrived bringing chaos and a storm of arrows upon the gathered Death Eaters. As this distraction occurred, several witnesses claim they saw Harry Potter disappear, as if a cloud of invisibility swallowed him up. Others saw Neville Longbottom break free of his body-bind curse and pull a gleaming sword from the charred remains of the Sorting Hat. He used this sword (we now know it was the Sword of Gryffindor) to slice off the head of the Dark Lord’s snake and favorite weapon, Nagini, killing her in one swift stroke.
The Dark Lord’s scream of fury was the last thing the rebels heard before he disappeared in a flash of red light along with all his Death Eaters.
He has not been heard from since.
In the weeks that followed the Battle, Aurors were mobilized across the globe to search for the Dark Lord and his minions. They found nothing. No trail. No trace of Dark Magic. Not a single clue or piece of evidence to point them to the Dark Lord’s whereabouts. The search continues to this day.
Meanwhile, citizens of Britain and magicfolk around the globe are left wondering: Are we safe? Has the Dark Lord been vanquished? Is it time to pick up the pieces and begin living in a world free from darkness?
The Daily Prophet
16 June 1998
NARCISSA MALFOY UNDER HOUSE ARREST
In a widely-publicized and controversial trial in front of the Wizengamut, Narcissa Malfoy faced tough questioning and a disturbingly intrusive memory procedure to convince the wizarding world of her innocence. In May, she was charged with aiding and abetting in the rise of the Dark Lord and participating in the subsequent violence of his Death Eaters. In addition, she was accused of providing housing and a stockpile of dark magic implements and weapons to the Dark Lord during his stay at Malfoy Manor. Her husband, Lucius Malfoy, was known to be the Dark Lord’s trusted accomplice and directly involved in all terrorist planning and violence.
In a stunning turn of events, Mrs. Malfoy was cleared of being directly involved in violent actions against Britain’s citizens and her solicitor used memory evidence to show how she was coerced under deadly threat to serve the Dark Lord. She has maintained that her son, Draco Malfoy, who has not been seen since May 3rd, was similarly threatened into cooperation, each of them responsible for the life of the other if they did not complete their “missions”.
Much of the wizarding community demanded accountability, and with no Death Eaters to prosecute, they found Mrs. Malfoy to be a means for justice. The witches and wizards we interviewed about the trial were furious and disgusted by the lenient punishment. “She’s the wife of a terrorist!” said Mr. John Parsons. “There’s no way she wasn’t involved. She deserves to rot in Azkaban for what she and her family has done to the Wizarding community, no ifs, ands, or buts!”
The additional testimony from Harry Potter himself, confirming that Mrs. Malfoy lied to the Dark Lord about Potter’s death, thus giving him his chance to escape, played a big part in Mrs. Malfoy’s light punishment. The Golden Boy’s influence remains strong in the wizarding world; however, this reporter must remind you there is no evidence that Harry Potter has defeated the Dark Lord and some citizens are still gravely concerned that he may return.
Narcissa Malfoy will be serving house arrest for one year.
Lucius Malfoy has not been seen since May 3rd. His whereabouts are unknown and Narcissa Malfoy confirmed under Veritaserum during the trial that even she does not know where he or her son, Draco, are currently located.
The Daily Prophet
5 July 1998
PROPHECY CRACKPOT? THE DEPARTMENT OF MYSTERIES FACES QUESTIONS
The Department of Mysteries is under investigation and has been threatened with a shut down due to the unreliability of the field. Divination and Seeing have long been looked down upon by the wizarding world as lesser magic. Furthermore, it has never been confirmed that a prophecy has changed the course of history in any significant way nor has the so-called ‘research’ conducted by the Department of Mysteries produced anything of value for the wizarding world.
In 1987, the Ministry considered removing Divination from all educational curriculum. A public forum was held in which, as you may recall, Albus Dumbledore gave an impassioned speech to continue educating students “in the subtle art of predictions and prophecies” and that we would “regret the loss of important prophetic warnings that allow us to protect our future selves and our way of life.”
Since then, the department has worked in the shadows with virtually no public accountability. The Prophet has requested a tour and interviews with the head of the Department of Mysteries (name unknown) many times and has been continuously denied.
Additionally, it has been suggested, but not confirmed, that the prophecy surrounding Harry Potter and his “defeat” of the Dark Lord has been incorrect on multiple counts. (Said prophecy has never been released to the public.) The Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, stated “the Department of Mysteries is currently undergoing an audit to analyze its value to the magical world and a decision about its existence will be made later this year.” No further comments were made but this reporter promises to make sure the fate of the Department will NOT remain a mystery. Stay tuned for updates.
The Daily Prophet
20 August 1998
STUDENTS TO RETURN TO HOGWARTS
After the partial destruction of Hogwarts in the somewhat victorious battle that took place three months ago, which brought a tentative peace to Britain and the world, it is our pleasure to announce the grand reopening of our illustrious School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The school is back to its former glory due to the generous efforts of many highly skilled witches and wizards, along with a large donation from an anonymous source. The Department of Magical Architecture and Engineering was instrumental in reforming the physical structure as well as strengthening the magical wards used to keep students safe.
Students will be invited back to school on September 1st. Headmistress McGonagall has also indicated that a special 8th year class has been created to allow former resistance fighters to complete their schooling as adults and take their NEWTs next May. At the time of this printing, it has not been confirmed if Harry Potter and the rest of the Golden Trio will be returning.
Special Note: Due to the Dark Lord’s ties to Slytherin and the continued disappearance of many Slytherin alumni and students, the House has been dissolved by Ministry mandate. The few remaining Slytherin students will be resorted based on their qualities.
“That fucking SNAKE!” Harry hurled a chipped tea cup into the fireplace. “Disappeared!? Fucking disappeared?! I was supposed to kill him, once and for all, it was the fucking moment, and he escapes? Goddammit!” He took the equally chipped saucer and smashed it against the bricks.
It was the end of August and the three of them were in the decrepit sitting room at Grimmauld Place. The discussion had begun with the simple question that had been weighing on their minds for the past few weeks: Return to Hogwarts or not? As usual, it had quickly devolved into Harry having another fit about Voldemort’s disappearance and his “failure” to fulfill the prophecy.
“Harry, stop,” sighed Hermione. “That was the last good teacup.” She glanced at Ron, hoping he’d chime in with something to lighten the mood. No luck. His eyes were glazed over as he stared into the flames of the fire, pale and silent. Hermione stopped herself from sighing again. They had been talking in circles for so long, she thought she might scream. Grimmauld was beginning to feel like a prison and she ached for change. Almost anything would do at this point: a bit of sunshine, a blade of grass, or at least something to work on.
The Order had met for weeks following Voldemort’s disappearance. They had consulted with the Aurors hunting him and used every single piece of evidence and information they’d collected over the years to brainstorm all the places the Dark Lord might have gone. Hermione had even spent days researching Muggle criminals and their hideouts. Harry had thrown himself into the search effort and had even convinced Shacklebolt to let him join the Aurors despite having no official training nor security clearance. Being the Golden Boy still had its advantages.
Every lead had been a dead end. Every wisp of hope that the Death Eaters would be found was dashed. All the locations the Aurors checked were empty, dusty, and clearly unused. It was maddening. People don’t just disappear off the face of the earth, but that appeared to be exactly what had happened to Voldemort.
Harry took each empty hideout personally, growing more and more agitated and angry. Hermione had never seen him like this. And Ron? Ron was barely present even when he was sitting in the same room. He stared off into space and on rare occasions, mumbled a response when asked a direct question. After the battle, he had refused to go home despite Molly’s pleas. Hermione wondered if he couldn’t bear the bleakness of the Burrow as the entire Weasley clan mourned the loss of Fred. Ron’s fire and humor had fizzled out the moment they finished the memorial ceremony.
After two months of near-daily meetings and searches, the Order finally ended its partnership with the Aurors and disbanded.
“Voldemort is either dead or the dark magic he used to disappear has taken him to hell where he belongs,” concluded Moody gruffly. “It’s time to start living life again…and for some of us there’s not much time left.” He looked around the table of remaining members. “This Order did good work and I’m proud of all of you. The Aurors will keep their eyes open, but my instincts tell me Voldemort and his shit eater minions are gone.” And just like that, the Order members slowly looked around, nodded, shook hands, and Apparated away.
Harry was furious. He cornered Moody before he could leave. “So we’re done? Just like that? He’s not dead!” he shouted. “He didn’t die because I didn’t kill him. I had to kill him, Moody, that was the only way, and I didn’t. Dumbledore would tell you not to believe this bullshit. He’s out there somewhere, biding his time and mark my words—he’ll come back and we’ll all suffer when he does.” Moody blinked one eye blandly as Harry continued his tirade. “I know we got all of the Horcruxes, so now all we have to do is find him and kill him. We cannot stop searching!”
Harry was breathing hard into Moody’s grizzled face and Hermione could see his clenched fists were shaking. Moody just stared at him, his mad eye still for once.
“Harry?” Hermione slowly approached, gently took Harry’s fist and uncurled it in her hands. His face snapped to hers and then back to Moody. He let out a frustrated sigh and angrily shoved his glasses back up his nose but the tension broke.
Moody patted Harry’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, kid, I really am. But we can’t keep doing this. Everyone is at their breaking point after that battle. They are grieving, they are traumatized, and we’ve looked everywhere. It’s time to stop. You’re young. Don’t let Voldemort poison your whole life, Harry. You did everything you could and more. Prophecies don’t mean shit.” With that rather shocking statement from Mr. Conspiracy Theory himself, Moody limped past him and left Grimmauld Place.
“Fuck,” exhaled Harry, turning to Hermione. “What do you believe, Hermione? What are we supposed to do?” His eyes pleaded with her, desperate for a clue or a plan or an idea.
Hermione slowly shook her head, heartsick to disappoint him once again. “I don’t know, Harry. I don’t have the answers. But he’s right.” She shrugged helplessly. “We can’t keep going on like this.”
Harry drew in breath like he was going to say something, but then just shook his head in disgust and walked away.
That was three weeks ago.
The discussions since then had all centered around Hogwarts and what the future held for the “Golden Trio.” School? Jobs? Stay in Britain? Leave and go somewhere where they could be anonymous? Hermione was done with the agonizing.
“I’m going back to Hogwarts, and I’m finishing school,” she announced firmly. Harry turned from the fireplace and frowned at her.
Ron blinked twice and slowly focused on her face. “Okay,” he whispered. Harry shifted his glare to Ron, but Ron was already staring back down at his hands.
Suddenly, the anger left Harry and his shoulders slumped. “Fine, we’ll all go. But believe me when I say that I will not rest until we find that bastard and turn him into green smoke.”
Later, as Hermione was packing, she realized that neither boy noticed that she had said ‘I’m going back’ and not ‘We’re going back.’ They still looked to her to make decisions and dammit if it wasn’t becoming exhausting. The war had taken a toll on their friendship, shattering them all so completely, she hardly recognized her own friends anymore. Or herself, if she was being honest. Deep down, she had started to wonder if their friendship was even real or if that stupid troll in the bathroom first year had forced them together and a bond had grown simply from the endless trauma of their yearly fight for survival. They had been children battling a decade’s old war practically their entire friendship. It was as if Voldemort was the flame and they were helpless moths circling him and burning alive in the process. Maybe that’s why Harry couldn’t let it go–he didn’t know who he was without Voldemort. Hell, did Hermione know who she was beyond a swotty researcher and bossy decision-maker? Oh god, did she even like to read?
“Hell yes, I do,” she laughed to herself. A good library would always make her heart happy. It was comforting to know at least one truth about herself had survived the war.
*****
Dear Eighth year students,
We are delighted to welcome you back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We recognize that this will be a unique experience and I hope you will be pleased with the preparations we have made to accommodate your adult status and needs. Enclosed, you will find your schedule and duties for the year. Please note that all eighth year students will be living in the old Slytherin dungeons. Former Slytherin students have been re-housed into Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor due to the Ministry mandate to dissolve the house. Any complaints on the matter should be directed to the Minister of Magic, and take it from me, he’s much too busy to answer owl post.
Please expect your coursework to be significantly more challenging this year; therefore, you have all been scheduled with a study hall period. We feel quite strongly that this will be necessary to help prepare you to be successful on your NEWTs. Weekends remain your own time and we encourage rest and relaxation. We will be providing optional exercise classes, mind healing sessions, hiking adventures, and travel opportunities for interested students. Your wellbeing is of great importance to the Hogwarts staff and mental health will be a focus in the coming year.
Finally, deliberate rule-breaking, skipping classes, consumption of alcohol, and/or any inappropriate conduct will not be tolerated and will result in an immediate expulsion. You are adults attending a children’s school and we expect you to be positive role models. Please send an owl if you require any additional accommodations or if you have any questions. I look forward to welcoming you on September 1st.
Regards,
Minerva McGonagall
At the bottom there was a handwritten note.
Hermione, dear, I am so glad you have decided to return. Please come to my office sometime during the first week to catch up. You will also be receiving an all access pass to the library, including the restricted section, for your use this year. (Please keep this to yourself.) Warmly, Minerva
For the first time in a long time, Hermione smiled.
*****
It turned out that older students simply Apparated into Hogwarts at a designated time when the wards would be set to allow it. This was a new upgrade of the security around the castle, which was shocking not only because ‘upgrade’ was Muggle terminology but because it allowed previously unheard of access to Hogwarts. Hermione decided she would investigate the so-called upgrades further when she got a free moment. If she got a free moment.
Her time to arrive was 8:03 a.m., Harry at 8:06, and Ron at 8:09. They stood quietly with their wands out as Hermione stared at her watch. “Three, two, one…” she whispered before she swished her wand and Disapparated.
“Welcome, Ms. Granger.” Professor Flitwick smiled and gestured for her to follow him out of the shimmering circle that indicated the open ward around the Apparition site. “If you will just go ahead down to the dungeons and get settled. It’s quite busy and we’re trying to clear the halls. You remember the way, don’t you? Your trunk is already waiting in your room.”
“Yes, Professor,” she answered. “Thank you.”
Hermione wound her way through the castle and found the stairs leading down to the dungeons. Just as she took the first step down, she stumbled and grabbed frantically for the railing. She realized she was gasping and the stone beneath her feet was reeling, as if she was standing on a boat being tossed by the waves. She slowly backed away from the staircase, glanced around to confirm that she was alone, and then leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. She worked to control her breathing, slowly drawing air in, holding for a few seconds, and then slowly letting it out. She slid down the wall and sat on the floor. Why was this still happening? She opened her eyes and looked around, relieved to find the world had stilled. This was Hogwarts. Home away from home. All her best memories were here. Shit, all her worst memories too. Well, almost all. There was one other place that held the very worst memory of the war…. Hermione quickly checked that the charm covering her left arm was still firmly in place. It was, but the thought of what lay beneath it made her put her head between her knees and continue her breathing exercise.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” Hermione startled and looked up into the delighted face of Pansy Parkinson. “The brightest witch of our generation sitting on the floor having a panic attack? Tsk, tsk, Granger. Get it together.”
Hermione glared at her and in response, Pansy grinned widely. “I’m just fucking with you. Here—” She reached down to help Hermione up.
Hermione stared at the hand in front of her for a second, not comprehending. Pansy Parkinson? Helping her up? No, that wasn’t right.
“I can do it,” Hermione muttered, awkwardly rising to her feet.
Pansy shrugged, “Suit yourself. But seeing as we’re roommates, we might as well learn to get along.” With that bombshell, she flounced down the hall, with a little wave. “See ya later, roomie!”
Fucking great.
The Slytherin dungeons were, honestly, quite nice. The common room was centered around a window showcasing the creatures of the Black Lake. Fish swam by and Hermione thought she could see the long tentacles of the Giant Squid in the distance. There were two fireplaces on opposite ends, crackling merrily, with giant black leather lounge chairs placed in cozy quads. The ceiling was enchanted to look like the night sky, stars twinkling, with floating candles that gave off a warm, comforting light. Granted, it was just after 8 a.m., so it was a little bizarre to be in the candlelit darkness, but it soothed Hermione’s anxiety and for that, she was grateful.
She made her way to the sleeping quarters and found her room quickly due to the etched signs on each door.
Hermione Granger
Pansy Parkinson
She sighed. What did she really know about Pansy Parkinson? Nothing, really, except that she was a typical Slytherin mean girl early on, blossomed in fourth year (Hermione suspected a summer nose job), became a fashionable Pureblood beauty, and dated Draco Malfoy off and on. Hermione couldn’t remember seeing her during the Battle of Hogwarts but knew that she had served in the hateful Inquisitorial Squad under that vile, vapid Umbridge. Hermione made a noise of disgust. Perfect. Well, at least she would always have the library to escape to, and besides, she was a tough witch now. Battle-hardened. A mean girl was nothing compared to what she had faced and defeated over the years.
The almost panic attack from moments ago flashed in her mind. Nope, not going to think about that. Battle-hardened. She swung her suitcase onto the available bed and began unpacking. As she organized her things, she briefly wondered how the boys were getting on.
*****
At around noon, Hermione realized that she was starving. On her way out, she checked the common room for Harry and Ron. Empty. She wondered how many of her classmates had actually returned. The other names on the bedroom doors in the female section indicated that not many had. Parvati. Katie. Sophie. Daphne. She peeked into the male section and saw Harry and Ron on the door of one room and Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott on the other. Now that was interesting. Nott Senior was a dangerous Death Eater, one of the disappeared, of course, so it was surprising that Theo was able to attend Hogwarts. He must not have been involved in Death Eater business. She made her way slowly up the stairs, cautiously taking her time and gaining confidence when the stairs remained solid and her breathing normal. Unpacking her things had centered her mind and now Hogwarts felt a little more like home and a little less like a battleground.
Unlike the dungeons, the Great Hall was packed with students. They were all chattering and eating and even laughing, which sounded a bit strange to Hermione’s ears. The cheerful atmosphere itched at her skin and when she glanced up and saw that the enchanted ceiling was a bright blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds, she thought perhaps the school was trying just a little too hard.
To make matters worse, the hall had lost its familiar closeness. She looked around, trying to figure out the source of her unease, and found it in the three banners hanging from the wall and only three long tables stretching across the floor. It was as if Slytherin never existed. But even now, Hermione could see several former Slytherins sitting at new tables with their brows pulled into sullen scowls. You could take the Slytherin out of his House, but you could not take the House…oh you know the saying.
“Hermione, over here!” Ginny Weasley gestured her over to the Gryffindor table. She hopped up as Hermione approached, giving her a tight hug. While Ginny was practically a sister to Hermione, they hadn’t seen each other very much over the summer. She and Harry had taken a break in their relationship while she sought to comfort and be comforted by her family and he threw himself into the search for Voldemort. Hermione had felt awkward, not quite sure where she fit in the fallout of that “break” between her almost sister and her best friend.
“Ginny, it’s so good to see you. How are you? How was your summer?”
Ginny shrugged. “It was…rough, but nice to be with my family. We clearly needed each other. I still think Ron should’ve come home, but he’s so freaking stubborn.” She shook her head sadly. “It’s weird being back here, right?”
“Yes.” Hermione lowered her voice. “I had to take a minute to breathe when I first arrived. I guess Hogwarts will start to feel safe again if we just give it time?”
“Yeah. Shit, I’m sorry you’re feeling that way.” Ginny squeezed her arm sympathetically. “Let me know if I can help, yeah? We did some family mind healing sessions and talked a lot about grief so I can share some strategies if you need them. Speaking of family, did you get a chance to see your parents over the break?”
Hermione froze, her face going pale. Ginny grabbed her in another hug. “Shit, I am so sorry, Hermione. I shouldn’t have said anything. I know you were doing Order stuff all summer. Merlin, my big mouth.”
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. She pulled away from Ginny and gave her a small smile. “I’ll be able to talk about it sometime. But no, I haven’t seen them. They’re still in Australia,” she whispered, “and they still don’t know me.”
Ginny patted her shoulder and then pulled Hermione down on the bench. “Let’s eat. The elves have gone all out for the first day, as usual. Sandwich?” Ginny didn’t wait for an answer and started piling a thick slice of ciabatta bread with turkey, provolone, mayo, tomatoes, even two strips of bacon. “Now that’s a Weasley-style sandwich!” she said brightly.
Hermione dug in and, to her surprise, she ate the whole thing. Eating had become so disordered for her. The weeks in the woods rationing tinned beans and the random half-meals they’d grabbed during Order business had wrecked any kind of meal schedule and Hermione was the kind of person who would get caught up in her work and forget to eat. She’d lost a lot of weight and wasn’t happy about it. She knew her brain required regular food and was relieved to be back at Hogwarts where meals were routine and elves were quick to help. (Her SPEW era had gotten her a lot of love from the Hogwarts elves who had even broken rules to feed her in the library many times over the years in an effort to show their thanks, bless them.)
“What are your plans for today?” asked Ginny around a mouthful of turkey and cheese. “Do you need any help unpacking? Oh by the way, I cannot believe you have to live down in the old Slytherin dungeons. Are they as disgusting as I picture them?”
“Surprisingly not. It’s dark and kind of broody but also beautiful in its own way. I don’t think they changed much from the original design. Actually, it reminds me of a library without any books,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “Anyway, I unpacked this morning. But get this, we have roommates.”
“Roommates? I thought for sure Eighth years would get their own rooms. So are you with Parvati or Katie Bell?”
“Neither. You’ll never guess.”
“Who? Tell me!”
“Pansy freaking Parkinson.”
Ginny gasped dramatically and threw her head back. “No!”
“Yep.” Hermione grinned and shrugged. “I won’t be in there much anyway, just sleeping. Maybe it won’t be so bad. Besides, I’ve got so much studying to do and there’s a table in the library with my name on it.” She lowered her voice and her eyes twinkled. “Literally. I carved my name into it. It’s mine.”
Ginny burst out laughing. “Classes haven’t even started yet! How do you know you have so much work to do? Also, I’m pretty sure carving up the library tables is a rule violation. That’s ten points from...the dungeon, young lady.” Ginny shook her finger at Hermione in mock outrage.
Hermione smiled again. Yes, it was good to be back.
*****
Harry and Ron found her on the grounds, standing on the cliffs that overlooked the Black Lake. Hogwarts loomed above her, standing proud and strong, while the water far below rippled serenely. She had made her way down onto her favorite ledge to get some fresh air and a moment in the sun after spending her afternoon pre-reading her Advanced Charms book in the library.
“Hey Hermione, we’re climbing down,” called Harry. She gave a half-hearted wave of acknowledgment and turned back to the water.
“What are you doing down here?” asked Harry when they reached her.
“Just getting some fresh air. How was your day? I didn’t see you guys.”
“Fine,” mumbled Ron.
“As soon as we got on campus, Slughorn found us and we’ve been in his office practically all day. He wanted to know “the inside scoop” about what we worked on this summer. He has all these theories wanted to tell us–thinks we have a special line to Shacklebolt.” Harry rolled his eyes. “It took us all day to escape. I think he finally let us go when Ron started swaying in his seat. We just stopped by the kitchen for a snack. Feeling better, Ron?”
Ron nodded, eyes on the lake.
“Did you get a chance to stop by the dungeons?” asked Hermione.
“No, we didn’t even get to unpack! Fucking hell. I don’t know how I’m going to get through Advanced Potions with him breathing down my neck. Honestly, I don't know how I’m going to get through any of my classes. You’ll help, right Hermione?” Hermione made a noncommittal noise. She had carried them through the past seven years at Hogwarts. At some point, they had to take some damn responsibility for their studies.
“Anyway, how is it? Filled with shitty snake memorabilia and gaudy posh furniture?”
“No, it’s not that bad. Think fireplaces, candles, leather furniture, and a pretty cool view of the lake. You and Ron are roommates and I’m sharing with Pansy Parkinson.”
“Oh shit, the pug-nosed girl who dated Malfoy?” Harry wrinkled his nose. “Gross. I bet if you ask McGonagall, she’ll let you trade.”
Hermione shrugged. “I don’t plan on being there much. And I can handle a mean girl these days.”
“Did Lavender come?” asked Ron quietly.
“She…she died, Ron. You don’t remember?”
“Oh. Right,” he mumbled. “I’m going to go unpack.” Ron started carefully climbing back up the rocks.
When he was out of earshot, Harry asked “What the hell do you think is going on with him? I mean, I know Fred’s death wrecked him, but it’s been months and he’s still moping.”
“Harry, that is extremely insensitive. People grieve differently. It’s not like there’s a specific timeline and after a few weeks you can snap your fingers and be fine. I mean, look at you.” Hermione cringed, instantly regretting her sharp words.
“Excuse me?” Harry raised his hands angrily. “What do you mean, look at me? I’m fine! Are you suggesting I’m not fine? I am fucking fantastic, Hermione. Ok, yeah, not all of us are perfect calm cool collected swots like you, Hermione, but I’m fucking fine!”
Hermione hung her head. She knew better than to poke the bear, especially a bear who tended to explode into anger at the slightest provocation these days. She should’ve kept her mouth shut.
“Yes, you’re right, Harry,” she said contritely. “I apologize. I just mean it’s been a rough few months, well, years really, for all of us.”
Harry unclenched his fists and slowly relaxed his shoulders.
“Right. I’m just gonna head back.”
Hermione turned back to the water. Golden rays from the setting sun glittered across the lake like diamonds. A warm breeze lifted the light curls that framed her face and she closed her eyes. She felt the magic within her stretch its wings and bathe in the shimmering light. Worry about Ron’s depression and frustration at Harry’s quick temper floated away on the breeze. She felt at peace.