There was no denying that it was a cold evening, she thought, as she watched the lustrous snow drift aimlessly to the ground. The image of the wintry London street outside her flat slipped in and out of focus as she tried to concentrate on the scene before her eyes. It had been years since the holiday season had meant anything to Hermione Granger.
She ran her hand through her bushy brown hair and sighed. With each lingering second that she spent sitting there, absentmindedly gazing out the window, she felt the guilt rise steadily. She knew that she should be finding something to do with her life. Anything. Anything more than staring out the window and surveying the falling snow. It wasn’t that she resented her current job; she had a reasonable salary and a fine position at the local wizarding bank. There were times when this was enough, and then times “ such as that night “ when she was sure that there was something more she could be doing. The trouble was, she didn’t know what she wanted. She had thought that with time this feeling of insecurity would ebb away, but she found that her guilt and frustration only mounted each day.
She rested her temple against the cool glass of the window, trying to empty her mind of these thoughts. She was only thankful that she had next weekend’s meeting to look forward to. It gave her a chance to occupy herself with thoughts of seeing an old friend for the first time in years. In part, she was excited, but she couldn’t help but notice that this feeling was mingled with dread and anticipation. Susan had gone on to be someone. And what have I done? I’m not any different than I was this day three years ago.
The sound of something scratching at her window mere inches from her ear made her sit upright. Catching sight of the snow-white owl, she let out an audible gasp, all thoughts of Susan abandoned. She hadn’t seen that owl for years… Surely it couldn’t be the same…
Her hands shaking slightly and her breath short, she slid open the window, allowing admittance to a rather surly looking owl; apparently discouraged by the frigid air. Shutting the window behind the owl, Hermione untied the letter. Recognising the handwriting at once, she began to read.
Dear Hermione,
I know you’re probably wondering why I’m contacting you, and to tell you the truth so am I. I suppose that all it comes down to is that I miss you. How long has it been?
“Seven years, three months, fourteen days,” she whispered, the sound of her own voice startling her. It had hardly registered that she had been unconsciously counting the figure. Taking a stabilising breath, she continued reading.
It seems like just yesterday that we were back at Hogwarts, doesn’t it? I think about Hogwarts all the time. And how abnormal my life seems right now, compared to how it used to be “ brewing secret potions, helping escaped prisoners to freedom, sneaking around the castle late at night with you and Ron.
I know that you have a job and must be really busy, and I’m sorry for taking up your time, as there’s a chance that you want nothing to do with me. I know that things with Ron didn’t end as well as either of you would have hoped, and I’m sorry for that. Back at school, I was so sure that you two would end up together. But things can take an unsettling turn, as I’ve come to realise. Anyway, I’m sorry again for bothering you, but it’d be great if you could find a minute to respond to this letter. It doesn’t feel right not talking to you, you know? I want to hear about your life and your job and everything that’s new since we last spoke. I’ve realised that just because you and Ron fell apart, that doesn’t mean we have to, right? I just hope I’m not seven years too late in sending this.
Yours,
Harry
After she finished reading, Hermione set down the letter slowly, her gaze fixed on the parchment and her expression blank. Only the sound of Hedwig hooting softly in the background made her remember that she was still in her flat. It was more strange than she could have imagined, seeing his handwriting once more. And even after all the years, she noted, it looked exactly the same.
She felt a solitary tear slide down her cheek. Of all things that she hadn’t expected, it was this. She hadn’t had contact with Harry for seven years. She had never intended for that to happen. She wasn’t even sure how it had happened, come to think of it. Regardless, you can’t change it, a small voice reminded her.
Eight years ago, she had left Hogwarts with the intent of fighting; of staying beside Harry. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact day that things had fallen apart, exactly. She only knew that with each passing day, she had found herself with more and more doubts. She had always known that she had wanted to fight alongside Harry and Ron, but did that make it the right thing to do? Day after day she sat quietly, allowing the sight of her friends and family dying to eat away at her inside; allowing her steadily rising insecurities to consume her, until she could no longer bear it. She had done the only thing that had seemed right at the time “ she left. She hadn’t intended for it to be permanent “ perhaps only for a few months while she worked things out.
But far from settling on anything, Hermione had only become gradually more confused. She still didn’t know what was right; nor did she know how to determine that anymore. She had found a job alright, and worked ceaselessly to prevent herself from thinking about her current situation. From thinking about her friends that she had left behind. From thinking about Ron. Ron Weasley. The name wasn’t something that she would consciously dwell upon, but it would echo through her mind every now and then. She wasn’t sure what had happened between the two of them, exactly. She only knew that they had fallen apart, and Ron hadn’t attempted to contact her since she left.
I didn’t contact him either, a voice whispered.
She hadn’t wanted to think that their separation was to be permanent, nor had she understood that her abandonment of the Order was to last longer than a mere few months. All she knew was that she had time to work everything out “ time that she now looked back on with rueful eyes.
Through these times, she had come to find a solitary friend to rely on. Susan Bones. Hermione had first begun her job at Gringotts four years ago with the intent of starting anew without reminders of her past to distract her. It was only two days later that her past had managed to find her, but in a form that she never would have guessed.
“Hermione?” a small voice called, and upon approaching the tall white building situated in Diagon Alley, Hermione stopped in her tracks and turned around.
The sight of the round-faced girl with red-brown hair worn in a long plait down her back caught Hermione off guard. “S-Susan!” she choked, when the name finally came to her. “Hi, how are you?” she said.
At Hogwarts, she hadn’t known Susan all that well. She had been paired up with her to practice spells from time to time and Susan had been in the DA, but other than that, she had only ever known her as a face. Susan’s sudden friendly demeanour was admittedly a bit unsettling to Hermione, but she attempted a smile and replied untruthfully, “I’ve been alright. And yourself?”
“Pretty good. It’s been rough with so many deaths in the family and all… but I cope. What have you been doing with your time since we left school?”
Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but found no words. In the end she merely shrugged. “This and that,” she finally replied. Susan didn’t press the issue, which perhaps was why Hermione had been so taken with her from the start.
“So what are you doing here?” Susan asked affably.
“I work here,” Hermione said quietly.
“Oh, do you? I work here as well! Started last week.”
“Two days ago,” Hermione explained.
“Shall we head in?” Susan asked in her warm tone.
Hermione nodded, heading forward into the marble building.
She hadn’t expected Susan to become a long-term friend; perhaps just an acquaintance that she would see from time to time. But as the days went on, she found that the two of them would often talk “ usually of nothing in particular. This, if anything else, was why Hermione had been so drawn to Susan. She would never talk about real life issues if Hermione didn’t wish, she never asked more than what was told to her, and always had a kind word to make Hermione smile.
It shouldn’t have come as that big of a shock, really, when Susan had happily announced that she would be leaving Gringotts for Auror training a year and a half after the two had first met in front of the building, as Hermione had known that this had been an ambition of Susan’s for years. And yet she was shocked by the force with which this information had struck her. She smiled and pretended to be happy for her, though she wasn’t at all assured by Susan’s constant refrain of, “we’ll see each other soon!” That was what she had thought about Harry and Ron four years ago.
As she soon found out, she was right to be sceptical. After three years had passed, Hermione had received an owl from Susan, expressing her regret that they hadn’t spoken, and asking to meet up. Hermione had replied confirming that she had received the letter, and yes, she would love to meet Susan for coffee in a few weeks. She was mostly grateful for this upcoming meeting, but she couldn’t help feeling reproachful. I can’t believe three years have passed. What have I done with my life since then?
Hedwig hooted dolefully in the background, reminding Hermione of Harry’s letter. After a moment, she picked up a quill and parchment, scribbled “Harry” and sat back, eyeing the paper without the slightest inclination as to what she was going to say. What could she say after all those years?
She twirled her quill in her hand for a moment until a sudden noise outside her window saved her the necessity of saying anything. Hermione looked up in time to see an unfamiliar tawny owl collide with her window. Hastily opening it, the disgruntled owl hopped inside, sticking out its leg which had a short notice attached to it. Thankful for the excuse to discontinue Harry’s letter, Hermione untied it and began to read, her expression becoming more and more stoic with each word she took in. Finally with a small sob, she released the letter from her tight grip, where it drifted slowly to the ground.
To Miss Hermione Granger,
My name is Matthew Redford, and as you may or may not know, I married Susan Bones four years ago.
It is with the greatest sorrow that I inform you of Susan’s death. Two nights ago her body was found. They don’t know which Death Eater murdered her; only that she was killed by the Avada Kedavra curse. They’re still looking into the specifics. Looking through her calendar, I saw your name come up, which is why you’re receiving this letter, though I don’t know your relationship with Susan. In any case, I’m sorry for the loss of your friend.
A funeral procession will be held a week from this Saturday, if you wish to attend.
Racey days
Help me through the hopeless haze
But my oh my
Tragic eyes
I can't even recognise myself behind
So if the answer is no
Can I change your mind