All of those best laid plans
Hermione continued to cry, grieving the injustices that plagued her mind. It was not fair, Ron didn’t deserve to die and the Weasleys didn’t deserve to lose another son. Harry did not deserve to die, his parents and countless others sacrificed so he could live. Neville did not deserve to have his mind invaded much like his parents. They all fought hard to help the wizarding world and she could not even save them. What was the point of continuing, Hermione had no one. Hermione fell to her knees and could not control the guilt that wrapped around her mind and body, she was so immersed in her panic she did not notice the women from earlier coming down the stairs in a hurry.
“Oh, Hermione I know sweet girl I miss her so much too” A voice behind her spoke through the loud sobs in a voice full of complicated feeling. Hermione looked up and looked at the women, sobs still shaking her body taking away her voice as she tried to respond. The women brought Hermione into her arms and soothed her reminding Hermione of a child being brought into her mothers’ arms.
“It will be okay sweet girl; your mother will always be around in spirit. I will always be here, the same with your father and uncle. I promise you will never be alone” The women whispered into Hermione’s hair rubbing small circles on her back. Hermione lifted her head trying to look at the women. Father? Uncle? Mother? Confusion made its way across her face. Who was this woman and why did she feel so safe in her arms? The comforting circles drawn into her back started to calm Hermione down, the sobs turning into small whimpers and Hermione took advantage of the comfort she was receiving. Maybe she was hit with the killing curse right when she arrived, too quick to even realize she was dead. That thought jumped around her brain. Why would her afterlife take her to the potter’s cottage and a random kind women’s arm?
“Honey let me take you back to Marlene's room and you can get some sleep, your father will be here in the morning. You need to get some rest and I am sure you will feel better in the morning” The women stood up Hermione still in her arms. She did not understand how this woman could carry her so easily. Hermione was 20 years old and while petite it still made no sense the ease the women had when bringing her back up stairs and into the bedroom Hermione first travelled to. The women laid Hermione into the bed tucking her in and putting a quick maternal kiss on her forehead. The women got up and shut the door behind her leaving Hermione alone.
Hermione looked around the room really noticing the room around her, it was decorated for a young girl and did not have the crib she would have expected to see. There was a nightlight beside her putting a shadow across the room, she was not sure why a nightlight would be placed in a wizarding home but didn’t think much about it. She focused on the walls painting a nice shade of light blue, her eyes drifted across the posters and decorations that covered the wall by the bed. She noticed a Gryffindor flag over her head and the posters showed bands that her parents use to love. She recognized the poster of Fleetwood Mac and ABBA, they matched the long forgotten ones that used to sit up in her attic. Jean Granger was a huge fan of both bands, a true disco queen in her youth. Hermione thought back on the clothes her mom let her wear for her Halloween costume, she went as Disco Barbie, and she loved the way her mom would style her hair really bringing out the shape of her curls. Tears started in her eyes again, she missed her mom and dad so much and wished that it was her mother who held her not the random women. At this point though Hermione would take any comfort she could take, something happened, and she messed up her only chance to fix something. Even if that fix was as small as three people. She knew it was selfish to only care about Harry, Ron, and Neville but she also knew that one year was the max she could go back without worrying about aging rapidly or erasing herself completely. She sighed, the night starting to settle down on her, sleep was taking over her mind causing Hermione’s eyes to drop closed and surrounding herself in darkness.
Hermione woke up with a startle, her head was throbbing. It felt like it could burst open at any moment. She could barely think through the pain that overtook her whole head. She could not pinpoint the area of her headache, when she opened her eyes, she could not see her surroundings, the only thing in her vision was flashes of light. She tried to sit up and grab her barring’s but could not even manage the strength to move the blankets from her arms. The flashes of lights in her vision started to slow down. Hermione gasped; they weren’t flashes of lights but instead flashes of memories. The memories were not hers though. She saw herself and the women from last night with a younger child sitting at a ice rink laughing, she saw a young women with black curly hair sitting behind her placing her hair in a braid, she saw herself holding a older woman’s with similar features hand in what looked like St. Mungo’s. She saw herself in black robes holding a man’s hands in front of a coffin. She saw herself with a younger child looking through Diagonal alley and walking into Ollivander's. She saw a red-haired child and a black-haired child walking out as they were walking in. Then Hermione saw a memory that brought the air out of her lungs, A women who Hermione only recognized from the portrait that would spit out insults and slurs. This woman Walburga Black was helping Madam Malkin fit robes for Hermione. Walburga had a smile on her face and a light hand as it played with one of Hermione’s curls. The kind emotions that were displayed on Walburga’s face looked out of place.
What the fuck did Hermione do.