Everybody Changes
Everyone was different after the war ended. Not that it was unexpected, but the changes found in some were not what anyone had imagined when they had dared to hope for a future should they all survive. Harry, finally free of the burden of the entirety of the wizarding world’s survival weighing on his shoulders, was finding out what it meant to be happy. Ron, Ginny, and the remaining Weasleys were learning how to cope with the loss of Fred. George struggled the most, but no one expected any differently after he lost his twin. Death Eaters and other sympathizers were rounded up and given trials, most ending up within the icy walls of Azkaban. Children of Death Eaters were given appropriate sentences, far more lenient if they weren’t willingly partaking in the atrocities the true zealots had done.
No, all of that was expected. What wasn’t expected though, was how Hermione Granger changed. She had been different after her time at Malfoy Manor, more withdrawn. The boys had assumed it would simply take some time for her to recover from her torture at the hands of Bellatrix and then she would bounce back as the ever bookish and dependable mother hen. They were quite wrong. After leaving the Manor, she was changed, both physically and mentally. Yes, she had the ever-present Mudblood scar on her left arm, like a perverted version of her own Dark Mark bestowed by Voldemort’s top general. She also now had a streak of bone-white hair that framed her face. “From the stress of her torture,” Fleur had confirmed when she had mended the girl up as well as she could when the Trio had made it to Shell Cottage.
Her eyes failed to hold the same warmth they used to before their capture. Instead of honeyed pools of whiskey, they reflected cold, hard amber more often than not. She was quieter, more observant of her surroundings. Her eyes always roaming the room and people around her as if waiting to find someone in particular. Her voice wasn’t nearly as loud, but sharper and her words more sarcastic. Instead of joining in conversation and offering her thoughts on any given topic, she listened and took everything in, waiting to speak until it was either expected or she felt strongly enough about the subject being discussed.
Unbeknownst to the boys, she had begged Fleur and Bill to keep her other scars from Harry and Ron. Up the side of her right ribcage were claw marks, starting at her hip and curving back toward her back, nearly reaching her spine. They weren’t deep enough to turn her, especially since it hadn’t been a full moon, but they were deep enough to cause her to feel the moon’s pull and crave much rarer meat. Her senses were sharper, especially her hearing and scent. She was far more aware of the surrounding world than anyone knew. All thanks to that brute werewolf, who had escaped as soon as the tide had turned at the final battle. Hermione had blasted him off the bleeding form of one Lavender Brown, sending him sprawling on his back with a crack of his skull to the wall behind him. Unfortunately, it hadn’t even knocked him unconscious. He pulled himself up achingly with blood running down from a wound on the back of his head and smirked at her, mouthing one word to her before he slipped away with shocking stealth. She hadn’t had the time to go after him and finish the job, too focused on trying to stop the bleeding on Lavender’s shoulder where it met her neck. It hadn’t been enough.
Now, as September dawned with rain pouring from the heavens, Hermione was headed back to Hogwarts to complete the year she had missed while on the run. To her surprise, both Harry and Ron decided to join her. Harry wasn’t sure if he wanted to become an auror anymore, having had more than enough run-ins with dark wizards for ten lifetimes. Ron was still determined to join the academy after graduation, but he wasn’t in a rush to start training quite yet. He wanted to be close to home for his family for a while as they continued to heal the gaping wound left behind by Fred.
Standing on the platform beside the train, Hermione observed the crowds surrounding them. Families, though more timid than in years past, were saying their goodbyes to the children and giving hugs that lasted perhaps a few moments longer than they would have before the war. The number of people seemed to have been halved as some were still too scared to fully come back into the world that had just suffered under the snake-faced tyrant and his sycophants.
Sighing, she turned her attention back to the people closest to her. Harry was talking to Arthur as he held Ginny’s hand, both still high on the fact that they were together once again. Ron was being doted on by Molly, her fussing with the sleeves of his jumper and brushing away imagined lint from his shoulders. The remaining Weasleys, bar Charlie who had gone back to Romania a few weeks prior, were all there waiting to give their own goodbyes. Fleur and Bill were standing closest to Hermione, the veela witch reaching a hand out to squeeze her hand. “You are free to write to either of us any time you like, mon Cherie,” the woman said. Dipping her head in a nod, Hermione squeezed Fleur’s hand back and replied in just above a whisper, “thank you, Fleur. I’ll be sure to do that. And…thank you. For everything you’ve both done for me.” Hearing her response, Bill reached out to her and pulled her into a gentle hug, “think nothing of it Hermione. We’re as good as family now, eh? If you need anything, and I mean anything, just send an owl or patronus and we’ll be there for you.” With a small smile, she nodded and returned his hug before releasing him and pulling Fleur in for a hug of her own. “I’ll see you both at Yule, if not before then.” With that, she said a quick goodbye to the elder Weasleys and Percy.
Before she headed toward the train, she stopped by George’s side. When he looked down at her, she didn’t say a word as she held her arms open for him. His lips quirked up on one side in some semblance of a smile before he stepped into her arms and whispered, “have a good term, Mi. I’ll see you soon.” She nodded against his shoulder before turning and placing a delicate kiss to his cheek and whispered back, “first Hogsmeade weekend. Don’t forget.” He hummed in response before they both let go and she turned to lead the way onto the Express to find a compartment for herself and the boys.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
As the Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade station, Hermione let out a slow sigh. The ride to Scotland had been a long one with far more socializing than what she was used to taking part in anymore. The boys were lively, Ron going quiet only once or twice along the way as he seemed to fall into thoughts on what she assumed had to do with Fred, or possibly even Lavendar. They had had a massive blowup about her earlier in the summer, only a couple of weeks after the final battle. He had blamed her for the blonde’s death, saying that she should have been able to do more for the girl after Greyback’s attack. He eventually apologized, which was shocking on its own, but they both knew any possible romance that had been brewing before the war was lost to them at that point. She had moved into Shell Cottage with Fleur and Bill the day of their fight.
Along the journey, several people popped in and wanted to talk to or thank the three of them. The constant flow of people had put her on edge. The only time she hadn’t had a negative reaction to the interlopers were a few of the small second years coming by to make sure it was truly safe to be going back to the school and when Neville and Luna had come to join them. Neville had always been a calming presence when they were growing up, not forcing anyone to talk about what was bothering them and just being there. Luna was similar, even with her dreamy and sometimes confusing remarks. Now, though, the slight girl had a less dreamy quality about her. She was harder than she used to be, never outright mean but not as dazed as she seemed to be in the past. When she and Neville had joined their compartment, she has slipped into the seat beside Hermione and simply grabbed her hand and held it the rest of the ride. Hermione was grateful for the girl’s steady presence.
Once the train had stopped, they all stood to grab their small personal items and left their trunks to be brought up by the elves. Stepping into the cool evening air, Hermione took in a deep breath. She scented the forest and the loam that covered the ground, the students milling about around her, and a new scent she hadn’t come across before. Looking around, she noticed the carriages. Ah. Walking over to the carriage her friends had chosen, most of them pretending they didn’t notice anything different, she held her hand up to the muzzle of the bony equine. Seeming somewhat surprised by the attention, the thestral sniffed and nudged at her hand before she pet down its neck down to its shoulder. “She’s one of the younger mares of the herd, she only just started helping with the carriages last year. Her name’s Eir,” Luna said as she came up beside the pair and patting the creature on her flank. “She’s sweet,” Hermione replied. The blonde hummed in response while continuing to pet the thestral with a small smile on her face. “We should join the others, they’re not quite ready yet to accept that they can see her and the rest of the herd.” Turning, Luna stepped up onto the carriage and held out a hand toward the curly-haired witch. Taking it, she lifted herself up into the carriage with her friends.
Walking into the Great Hall for the first time since the restoration efforts had been completed, she had to stop and take a deep breath. Though there had been efforts to wipe any evidence of the battle and horrors that had been done within the school, she could still smell the stench of death and dark magic within the hall. She could smell the pain that had been experienced. It was all too much, she couldn’t take in another breath just to be assaulted by the scents within this room. She couldn’t. She won’t. She-
“Five things you can see, Granger.”
Blinking, her consciousness coming back to her quickly at the unfamiliar voice that had spoken to her. She whipped her head to the side to see one of the older Slytherins standing there beside her, his hands held out slightly to show he meant no harm. “What,” she rasped out in question. He let his hands drop when he saw she was coming back to the present. “Ah, I kind of noticed you were spiraling a bit there. When I’m having the same issue, my mind healer taught me to find ways to ground myself. Five things I can see, four things I can touch, three I can ear, two I can smell and one I can taste. Seemed a bit ridiculous when she told me about the exercise, but…it helps.” The boy pulled his arm up to rub at his neck awkwardly. Looking at him, she realized she recognized him from some of her classes through the years but never heard him speak more than a few words before. Clearing her throat, she pulled herself from the wall she had ended up leaning against, “you’re Theodore Nott, right? We had ancient runes and arithmancy together.” His eyes blowing wide in shock, he nodded his head, “yeah, never thought you had noticed me enough to know my name though.” Shrugging, she started to turn away from him to head to the Gryffindor table, “thanks…for helping me just now. And for sharing the exercise. I’ll…I appreciate it.”
When she reached her seat amongst her friends, both Ron and Harry looked at her oddly, “you alright there, Mione? We lost you in the crowd it seems.” Shaking her head slightly, she looked down at her empty goblet and reached for the pumpkin juice pitcher, “it was nothing. Just took a second to see the Hall all fixed up for the first time after the restoration.” They both nodded at her, not catching the lie she let slip from her mouth. They never noticed when she lied anymore.
After what felt like the longest Welcome Feast she had ever experienced, including the one where Umbridge had gatecrashed Professor Dumbledore’s speech, Hermione trudged alongside the others to what was the newly dubbed “eighth year” common room. Luckily, they had all been promised individual rooms seeing as they were all adults now and likely had trauma they didn’t wish to air out in the open in front of others. When they had entered through the portrait hole, they had discovered several couches and chairs scattered around the fireplace, as well as study tables a bit further away. Along one side there were a couple of bookshelves and a small kitchenette that was stocked with snacks and drinks. At the back were two halls, one for the boys’ dorms and one for the girls’. Some of the others decided to hang out in the common area, while some quickly made their way to their rooms, Hermione being one of the latter after giving Ron and Harry a quick goodnight and a comment on being tired after her early start to the day.
Entering her room, she closed the door and leaned against the wood, taking in the furniture. A bed similar to what she had slept on in previous years, a small closet, a half bookshelf and a writing desk. There was another door across from the bed that she assumed was an ensuite bathroom. Sighing deeply, she moved over to her trunk to pull out some sleep clothes. Once she had them, she stripped and tossed her clothes into the hamper that sat next to her closet before pulling the overly large t-shirt over her head and donning her shorts. She only hoped that she would get more sleep than she had in the previous months, but she wasn’t hopeful. It’s not like she had Fleur or Bill just down the hall to come and wake her gently from the nightmares. Or to hold her when she devolved into sobs from the memories that never left her thoughts for long. Internally berating herself, she braided her hair back and slipped under the covers. She was fine. She could do something as simple as sleep on her own. She was an adult for Godric’s sake. She could do this.
*~*~*~*~*
Greyback. Flames of pain in both her arm and along her ribs. Grey eyes filled with sympathy. Fear, I’m never going to get out. I want my mum.
Hush now my baby
Be still love
Don’t cry
Where are Harry and Ron? A beautiful voice singing. Did they make it out of here and leave me behind? I want my mum.
Sleep as you’re rocked by the stream
Sleep and remember
My last lullaby
So I’ll be with you
When you dream
Oh gods, I’m going to die. He’s going to claim me. He’ll never let me go. Oh gods, oh gods no. I want my mum.
River oh river
Flow gently for me
Such precious cargo you bare
The world is exploding. Is that Dobby? What is happening? Where did the voice go? Where am I? I want my mum.
Do you know somewhere she can be free
River deliver her there
With a shout, Hermione was out of her bed with wand in hand, crouched by the wall and prepared to defend herself. Glancing around the room, she realized where she was. She wasn’t at the Manor anymore. She was safe. A wet dripping sound caught her attention and she looked down at her feet. Drops of blood were falling to the floor from her arm. Sighing as her breathing came back to somewhat normal, she ran her non-bloody hand over her face before standing and heading to the ensuite bathroom to wash and dress the cursed wound. No doubt she’ll be up from this point, so might as well take her time getting ready for the day.