It had been 5 lengthy months, and now Hermione Granger felt as though she were a stranger to reality. Or to the norm, at least.
Her days were consumed with the tireless routine of staying hidden within woodland areas and doing what she could to survive. Of course, she wasn't alone. She was accompanied by the wizarding-worldly famous Harry Potter; a boy who had accepted her as his friend in their first year. Even though she'd practically pushed her way in to his and Ron's tight group, she fit as snug as a worm in the heart of a nut.
Despite their popular status, the trio's lives were far from spectacular. Beginning from age 11, the three had encountered more deadly attacks than a muggle had hot dinners. Whether it be spending countless evenings reading up counter curses or information that would come handy in time of battle - you could bet that Hermione was always busy.
Except for now.
Now, here she sat, staring at her frozen palms whilst leant against the bark of a frosty tree. For a few days now, there had been nothing. No glimpse of danger, no ounce of threat - it was the wanted blissful silence of white noise in the dark. Only now, she wanted the noise more than anything. The noise to fill the pain, the sorrow, and the pure heartbreak.
Exactly one month ago, Ron had left them. Abandoned them completely. Why, you ask? It was ironic. She was the brightest witch of her age, but yet became so clueless to Ron's actions. Sure, he had always had trouble with his temper (As did Harry) and he tended to hold grudges and brood a lot. He wasn't always the most clear-headed character, and he often made poor judgements. But she never thought he'd leave, not even once. After all, this was the boy who sacrificed himself at eleven years old, for Merlin's sake! It baffled her but most of all, it hurt her. Especially with the turbulent history they'd had behind closed doors.
"Hermione?"
Her thoughts were broken by Harry's voice, who sat across from her. He sounded hesitant, but firm. She knew what he was going to ask, and knew he wouldn't stop until he got an answer he believed.
"Yes?"
"Are you okay?" He responded almost instantaneously.
Her eyes fell to her lap; a now subconcious movement to whenever she lied at this question. He'd ask her how she was doing at least twice a day and she'd always tell him she was fine. Hermione was strong, and she'd never want to expose her vulnerability. Not to a single soul.
But it felt as though with each day she was growing worse at this. And to be frank, she was sick of being the support system. She wanted to be the one who could feel conciously but with Harry and Ron by her side, she always felt she needed to be the tough rock. The motivator. The optimistic outlooker. Maybe now, it was time to be honest with herself.
"Hermione?" He repeated "Please tell me what you're thinking"
With a drawn out sigh, she replied "I don't know how much longer we can do this Harry."
She shifted uncomfortably with this reveal of feelings and lent forward, away from the bark. Her back felt numb after forcing herself to remain upright and not fall asleep early. Things were quiet, yes, - but was this too good to be true?
"I'm exhausted." She admitted sadly.
Harry, whose eyes were fixed on his friend, nodded sympathetically. He'd understand, she thought, he's living it too.
"I know. I am too. But we can get through this, I promise you."
His demeanour was usually edgy and rough whereas now, his presence spoke kindness and empathy. Something she really needed. Warmth amongst the harsh, brisk, cold.
Elevating himself to his feet, he looked down at her "Now why don't you go and get some sleep? I can keep watch for a while"
Usually, she'd argue and insist she'd stay awake but her dark ringed eyes drooping would convince Harry otherwise. She still felt guilty however. Harry had been through the works more than anyone else - the least she could do is stay awake!
"Are you sure? I can always stay awake for longer. I don't mind."
"Hermione, you need sleep just as much as I do. Like you said, you're exhausted. So go and sleep"
She couldn't argue with that. Smiling slightly, she rose to her feet, her boots crunching against the thick ice.
"Thank you Harry"
"No bother" His lips curled upward into a false smile - a poor façade of happiness. All her instincts were telling her to hug him or help him or do anything for him, but she knew better than to treat Harry like glass.
With a sympathetic smile, Hermione left the boy alone and returned to their tent, a weight hanging heavy in her heart.
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It had been twenty five minutes since Harry had told Hermione to get some rest. And unfortunately, so far, she was failing. Whether it be the cold air crossing her face breezily every so often, or the rugged sleeping bag making her itch - she just couldn't go to sleep.
"Why?" She thought to herself frustrated "I'm so tired - why can't I just sleep?"
Her mind buzzed with questions, which was most likely the issue. Despite the peaceful atmosphere, the world around her was not. Their environment was seemingly sanctual and safe for the time being. It was just a kick in the teeth that everywhere else was not.
The worst part was, she had no idea how life was outside of this bubble. Was Hogwarts still in tact? Were the teachers doing their best to train the students in self defense? Were her friends okay? Were her parents?
She shuddered thinking about them. Five months ago, she'd been forced to erase their memory of her. A selfless act to ensure her parents wouldn't be burdened with distraught if she happened to get herself killed in this blood-thirsty war. She couldn't bear the thought of that reaction... but she also couldn't bear the thought of hers if her parents weren't alive either.
No.
She had to stop this. She had to stop torturing herself. She had to think happily. An emotion she'd long since forgotten about.
"Think happy thoughts" She commanded herself "Think of the good times, come on Hermione. Think of the good times."
A million memories flooded her mind, times when there was danger, yes, but excitement too. She missed that. She missed being excited. Like when she, after Harry, rode a Hippogriff. Being blown away by the magical surroundings, the adrenaline running through her veins, the raucous cheers of her friends as she came into landing... it was.......
Finally, she was asleep.
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Suddenly, Hermione felt her eyes shoot open. The arctic atmosphere was now replaced with a familiar warm glow. Her vision primarly landed on the huge doors that lead way into the Great Hall. It was clear - she was back at Hogwarts.
But why? And how was she stood upright? And how did she hear all the voices chattering around her? And how... wait... what?
Her hands. They were greatly smaller and her skin was fair and smooth. Peering further down, she could see her the majority of her legs covered in knee-high socks, whilst the north side was covered by a pleated grey skirt. She remembered distinctly that THIS is what she wore on her first day of Hogwarts!
But HOW could she remember that? Or how could she think so clearly?
Wasn't she dreaming?
All of a sudden, an outstretched hand came into vision, forcing Hermione to look up. At the top of the stairs, a boy stood. Slightly taller than her, stunning silver eyes, an emerald Slytherin tie wrapped around his neck ... who was this boy? His hair was bleached blonde and combed backward with gel. The sophisticated look of stereotypical arrogance and wealth. But yet, the boy smiled toward her so humbly.
"Pleased to finally meet you Hermione"
"W-What?" She spoke aloud her thoughts. How did he know her name?
No audible response came from him - just a smile (almost a smirk) as he moved to her side slowly. Once they were on the same step, it was clear that he wasn't that much taller than her at all.
Wanting an answer, she questioned "Who are you? And why am I eleven again? At Hogwarts?"
With a vibrating shake, the surroundings quickly changed around her. She was now sat at the the Gryffindor table at Hogwarts, faced directly opposite the blonde haired boy, who sat on the Slytherin table. She vaguely remembered the setting as she peered around gobsmacked. The Slytherin flags were swaying lazily and it seemed as though everyone was gathered in the Great Hall. This wasn't the start of the year like before... it was the end of the year?
Her mind was plagued with confusion and to be honest, terror. She had no idea how this was happening. How she could feel everything as if it was real. She'd encountered magic, of course, but never anything like this.
Students were sat around gossiping as per usual, but they came across as background noise. Like they almost were there, but weren't at the same time. It also as if there was a line where people weren't sat. It enabled Hermione to stare directly at this boy. He now had a ridiculous black pointed hat sat on top of his head and a cheeky grin plastered on his face.
"Who are you?" He repeated.
She nodded, suddenly feeling more inquisitive than usual.
"Oh I don't have a name. I'm just here to help you re-discover your happiest times. Which happened here by the looks of things"
None of this made sense. She didn't know where he'd got this information from or how he knew her but one thing she was sure of was how she felt. A sense of appreciation and gratitude was evident in her emotion.
This boy, whoever or whatever he was, had taken an interest in her mental well being. And he was going to make her happy again. She didn't know why, but she couldn't describe how insanely grateful she felt.
"Am I right?" He questioned.
She beamed, the corners of her lips turned and her teeth exposed genuinely.
"Yeah, yeah, you're right."