Everything Has An After
Hogwarts, 1998, After
Breathe. Just…all you have to do is breathe.
Accepting her invitation to return to Hogwarts for the Fall term was an easy decision. She still had an incomplete education, after all. Arriving at King’s Cross was tiring. Stepping into a compartment on the Hogwarts Express with Ginny, Luna, and Neville was difficult; carrying a conversation in the heaviness of it all was almost too much. And so, they sat in silence.
When the carriages arrived and most of the students gasped and cried out, seeing the thestrals for the first time, Hermione thought she would not be able to move from the spot. Ginny was clutched onto Neville’s arm, her face ashen as Neville murmured to her, helping her step into the carriage. Their last experience with the skeleton horses was not a favourable memory. Hermione rubbed at her side where a dull ache was building.
Standing at the doors of the great hall was excruciating. Her chest ached and her eyes stung. Her heart was pounding, she was certain that the entire castle could hear it. A glance around at the others filing through the massive doors told her that no one was paying her any mind. There were looks of open and masked pain throughout every face present. A group of third-years huddled in a corner, quietly sobbing. There were no usual boisterous greetings and shouts as classmates reconnected after the long holiday.
Coming back was too much. I can’t do this.
Eventually, the Great Hall was filled, magical ceiling gleaming above the eight long tables. Hermione stared into the chamber, voices slowly filling the silence. She stood in the doorway, willing herself to take a step, just a single step. Hermione’s feet were lead, sealing her to the floor. All she could see was Lavender, a mangled mess after Greyback’s attack, Lupin and Tonks never to hold Teddy again, Colin next to a sobbing Dennis…Percy was wrapped in his mother’s arms. It was too much.
Hermione’s breath started to come out in short spurts, her legs began to tremble. Beads of sweat dripped down her temple as everything around her faded in and out of focus. She could feel a tingling sensation in her fingertips, her heart was beating sporadically in her chest, breath heaving as she fought for control of her body.
One, smell. The welcome feast and…something sharp, like citrus.
Two. An overly high-pitched laugh, derisive. A low chuckle to her left.
Three. There is a small hand clutching hers, calloused. Another at the small of her back.
Hermione slowly opened her eyes. She first sees Draco Malfoy and his group of Slytherins standing off to the side. He looked healthier since he had appeared in the Prophet. His cheeks were filled in and his sallow complexion was ivory once again. His hair was longer, less polished than he used to wear it, floppy in that Jonathan Taylor Thomas way. For the first time that she could remember, they were attempting to fade into the stone walls. Pansy was leaning against the wall, Goyle’s body obscuring most of her as he and Theo spoke to one another. Blaise Zabini and Malfoy stood shoulder to shoulder, mouths in firm lines. Hermione couldn’t tell if they were ready to fight or preparing to flee.
“Better now?” Ginny had her worried gaze set on her. Hermione glanced down at their joined hands, both gripped each other tightly. Neville had tucked her under his arm and as her heart returned to her chest, Hermione was immensely grateful to her friends.
Hermione nodded. She would not be controlled by these feelings. They had won. They were safe. The war was over.
✧✧✧
“For many of you, stepping through the castle doors was a testament to your strength. You are here for many reasons, but may you be bonded in the knowledge that each of you overcame something monumental as you crossed the threshold. You should be proud of yourselves.”
Professor McGonagall paused as Pansy interrupted her with a snort of laughter.
“Even you Miss Parkinson. You may be here on Ministry orders, however, had you and Mr Nott fled during the battle, many first years would have perished. Your bravery in defying your parents and Voldemort himself allowed you freedom from Azkaban and the opportunity to continue your education. You may not have chosen to return, but you could have fled.”
Several heads turned towards the group of Slytherins by the door. Malfoy leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed. He wasn’t sneering, but staring directly at the empty portrait frame of Albus Dumbledore. Zabini and Goyle were glancing at Pansy and Nott but with less surprise than half the room. Pansy had her head held high, dark fringe pushed back from her dark eyes, daring anyone to say a word while Nott just stood with his slumped posture and a small smile, spinning his wand between his fingers. The confidence coming off the pair was astounding.
“You knew?” Neville leaned down in her space. She still found it hard to comprehend the man Neville had grown into over the last year or two. She had seen some of the changes in sixth year, but he carried himself differently since the war. They all did.
“They had to have done something to have the entire Wizengamot agree that they had done a service at Hogwarts.” Hermione shrugged. She was not surprised that it was Pansy and Nott who had made sure the first years escaped the battle.
“I am more surprised that McGonagall just announced that to everyone.” Hermione glanced at the Slytherins again but averted her gaze when Malfoy caught her eye. She gritted her teeth as he pointedly looked at her hair and turned to Pansy to whisper in her ear. Once a git, always a git.
McGonagall cleared her throat to regain control of the room.
“We will filter you into the classes as necessary with year sevens. Schedules are with Professor Sprout,” She waved a handful of parchment at them. “As you saw in the Great Hall, there are eight tables. While we are still sorting new students into their Houses for dormitories and classes, meals will be eaten at the year level for all Hogwarts students. It is our hope that this will help inter-house unity.” The Headmistress paused, looking at each of them, daring any complaints. Hermione noticed glares from Zacharias Smith and Susan Bones, but no one spoke out.
“Also, due to the unusual nature of your return to Hogwarts, the faculty have decided that 8th-year students will not be returning to their House common rooms. You will have your own shared dormitory between the twelve of you.” The witch narrowed her green eyes and pitched her voice louder. “Anyone with concerns may voice them once I have finished. If you find shared dormitories unsatisfactory, you may return to your trunks and Mr Filch will escort you to the gates.”
Hermione let out an amused huff. Professor McGonagall would not make them share living space or kick them out of Hogwarts. Around her, others shifted uncomfortably.
“I assure you, Miss Granger, I am not only serious but I will restate myself. If you do not agree with these terms, you will be unceremoniously dismissed from school grounds and escorted to your primary residence. I will remind you that for some, not completing this year will directly result in your imprisonment.” There were no startled protests from Malfoy or his group, she could only assume they had already been informed of these changes.
“For any students with questions, now is the time.” The Professor waited patiently until Padma Patil spoke up.
“Headmistress, what about Head Boy and Head Girl? I know that 7th years have already been given the positions, what does that mean for…us?” It was strange to see Padma without Parvati and Lavender as if she was only part of who she was. Though Hermione thought the same could be said about Neville being at her side instead of Harry and Ron. Parvati had already been offered a position in the Auror program, Hermione knew that the quest for knowledge led Padma back to Hogwarts.
“Ah, yes. With the unusual nature of 8th-year studies, you will report directly to your Head Advisor. Many of you are here to complete your NEWT studies and are hoping for higher education outside of Hogwarts. Because of this, the faculty has been assigned to each of you based on your area of study extending past your days at Hogwarts. Your advisor can be found on your timetable for the term. If there are no further questions, please collect your parchments from Professor Sprout and let us attend the welcome feast.” Professor McGonagall’s face softened into a maternal smile. “I am so glad that you have returned to further your schooling, yet I truly hope that this year is that beginning each of you so deserves.” Hermione thought her eyes lingered on the Snakes, but couldn’t be certain as Neville offered her his arm and escorted her back to the Great Hall.
✧✧✧
The group suffered through the feast, as did the rest of the castle. They had missed the Sorting Hat singing its song. Hermione had even heard Malfoy and Goyle send quiet thanks to Merlin for that mercy. Hermione stared at the eleven students who were to be her dormmates. Of course, she knew them all, they had all grown up together under these very stones. Yet the only ones she knew well were the former DA members; Neville, Susan, and Padma. She refused to acknowledge Zacharias in that number after he had run during the Final Battle. She knew it was unfair of her, they had been children, yet she could not stop the wave of distaste every time she looked at him. Malfoy and his gang of snakes were abstractly known to her. Yes, Malfoy had insulted her on many occasions in the past but almost as an afterthought. Malfoy’s real target had always been Harry and Ron, getting a reaction out of them.
“See something you like like, Granger?” A quiet voice came up to her side as they moved through the castle behind Professor McGonagall. Theodore Nott matched Hermione’s stride. He was taller than her, but not by much. With each step he took, his sandy brown curls bounced in a way that caused a wave of envy to roll through her. He stared straight ahead as they climbed the third-floor staircase, stepping to the side in tandem with Hermione so they did not sink into the green slime coating the right side.
“I have no idea what you mean, Nott.” The back of her neck felt flushed as he stared at her.
“So you were not looking at a specific blonde’s arse just now?” He grinned at her. Hermione’s cheeks were flaming hot.
“I most certainly was not! I was trying to avoid Peeve’s slug remains! Not ogling Malfoy!” She attempted to lower her tone at the accusation, though Neville glanced back at her. She tried to offer a smile to his raised eyebrow, but she was sure it was more grimace than a grin.
Nott hummed, unconvinced. “I never said Malfoy. Smith is also a blonde you know.” He winked at her as they reached the top of the staircase. The Headmistress waited outside the clock pendulum as the students gathered at her back.
“Is everyone with us now?” She did not wait for a response, their group was small enough to account for everyone quickly. “We have transfigured a few rooms in the clock tower for 8th-year students.”
Hermione glanced around at the other perplexed faces. Just as she was about to raise her hand to propose her question another voice spoke.
“Professor, what rooms?” Malfoy questioned slowly, his tone insinuation that The Headmistress was going mad.
“Ah, I was hoping you would ask Mr Malfoy.” With a flourish, she drew her wand, Malfoy and Parkinson taking a hasty step back. McGonagall turned towards the giant pendulum swaying rthymicly. Swishing her wand in an exaggerated but precise M shape, the professor's voice was clear, hands steady, as she directed her wand at the mechanism before them.
“Arresto Momentum!” Slowly, the pendulum froze to the left, and a door with each of the house symbols etched into the wood appeared, just as the door materialised for the Room of Requirements.
“While any witch or wizard may freeze the clock, the doorway to your common room will only appear to those of you currently present. Professor Flitwick should be commended for his impressive charms work.”
As McGonagall led them through the door and gave a quick brief on dorm locations, Hermione felt the shimmer of wards.
Wards inside the castle? Just our dorm or all of the dorms? There was a sharp jab into her side, Neville glanced down at her and then towards Goyle and Malfoy sharing a look as well. So, at least four of us noticed the wards. Hermione raised an eyebrow at Neville who shrugged back. Sometimes it surprised her how close Neville had become to the Golden Trio, but once you vanquish an evil overlord together, it bonds you in ways others don’t understand.
Feeling her heart rate increase at the thought of the war again, Hermione began to focus on the large room around her. Two fireplaces were bookending the room, a spiral staircase near the back of the chamber. Hermione’s eyes widened and she could hear the soft inhale of breath from Susan Bones next to her. The back of the clock face was visible from within the common room, along with the gears rotating around one another on the wall where they had just walked. There was a faint echo of the movements of the gears and hands of the clock, but Hermione knew a dampening charm had been used to quiet the clock noises. There were several plush arm chairs in black near the far fire place. Two large sofas sat across from each other in the middle of the room, both in Ravenclaw blue. Scattered about the room were bookcases and plants. Oversized pillows in shades of crimson and emerald were stacked in corners. Hermione could tell the room had been designed to include all four houses, the jewel tones melding seamlessly. Above the second fireplace sat a landscape portrait of the Hogwarts Founders. Hermione took a few steps closer. The portrait was not one she had seen about the castle. Each founder stood shoulder to shoulder. Godric Gryffindor stood to the far right, sword glittering at his hip, unruly red beard curling around a jovial face. Rowena Ravenclaw clad in blue and bronze stood to his side, a small smile curving her lips as she rested a hand on tiny Hufflepuff. The founder of Hufflepuff house was depicted as a petite woman and Salazar towered over her. His sharp features crinkled into laugh lines as Helga elbowed him the stomach. The quartet overlooked the room, each one smiling down at the twelve students spread about.
“I hope that the ever impressive Flitwick has also charmed the common area to not shake the entire place when the hour is up.” Pansy’s mocking tone drew Hermione back to the rest of the students. Hermione silently agreed. No one wanted to wake up to a clock chime every hour.
“Shut it Parkinson, scum like you isn’t even worth wasting magic on.” Susan bit out.
“Hey—” Neville tried to interject before a fight could break out. Hermione glanced around, waiting for the Headmistress to reprimand Susan, but she did not. She simply stood, silently observing.
“Watch it, you filthy…” Smith let out a guttural howl, Pansy's remarks were drowned out in the noise. Smith's wand lay smoking on the stone floor, his hand gripped to his chest.
“Ah yes! I thought this a lesson best experienced. Words can only do so much I fear.” Her tone was sad as McGonagall retrieved the abandoned wand and held it up. The end was still emitting a hazy residue.
“This space will become your home over the next ten months and I refuse to have anyone fear for their life in their own home. Because of this, any spells cast to harm someone in the room will recoil on the castor. I am not naive enough to think there will not be fights or arguments, but if you must, we have removed the most dangerous aspect of who we are; magic. I implore you to overcome the past and forge new connections within these walls. Mr Smith, please follow me and we can have Madam Pomfrey look at your hand. Good night students.” McGonagall ushered her injured student out of the common area as the rest of them stood in silence. The door vanished behind the pair, Smith cradling his blistering hand to his chest as McGonagall scolded him. Theo Nott broke the quiet.
“I know I would like to forge some new connections,” He leered at Hermione. Her expression must have been startled because Nott chuckled.
“Oh, not you Granger, I was talking about the big guy.” Nott winked at a crimson-faced Neville. “Unless you both would like—” Nott broke off as Malfoy cuffed him on the ear.
“Go to bed, Theo.” The command was spoken to Nott, yes, however, the others also started to filter off. The girls drifted up the stairs as the boys split off to enter the door below.
✧✧✧
Later that night, Hermione lay in her four-poster bed, an exact match to the ones that occupied Gryffindor Tower. Pansy had taken the wrought iron bed next to Hermione’s. The sheets were a shiny emerald when they arrived, but Pansy quickly transfigured them into a delicate blue. Pansy narrowed her eyes when she noticed Hermione watching.
"What Granger? Just because some of you take your house colours seriously, does not mean the entire school is stuck with one colour scheme.” Pansy wasn’t as mocking as she had been downstairs, but she did seem tired.
“I never really thought about changing the bedding. One is as good as the other.” Hermione replied, unsure why she was entertaining a vapid conversation. Yet, it was probably the most civil conversation she had ever had with Pansy Parkinson
"What are your sheets at home?” Hermione was shocked that Pansy continued with a question.
“Oh uhm,” Hermione paused not wanting to point out she had just used whatever sheets Molly had put on the bed. It had been a long time since she indulged in frivolities like the style of bedsheets. The Forest of Dean definitely did not worry about what colour her lines were.
“They were purple. Like the sea at midnight.” Hermione smiled at that. Her mother had always insisted purple was the best colour. Hermione blinked back tears, refusing to cry over something so silly.
Pansy was watching her and then with a quick flick of her wand, Hermione’s sheets were a dark purple and gold flannel.
“You’ll sleep better if you feel safe.” Hermione almost missed the words as Pansy shut the curtains around her bed.
“I don’t know if I will ever feel safe here again,” Hermione muttered at the canopy of her bed, a dark purple now. Pansy’s act of kindness rattled her and Hermione struggled to fall asleep, but eventually, she was lulled by the soft breathing around her and drifted into her usual nightmares, intensified by the day's events.