She clutched her travelling cloak tighter as she strolled through the grounds in the morning mist. Even though the battle for good against evil was won, she had a millions battles and decisions left in her future; her decision to walk the grounds alone was just the most recent. Her feet carried her unconsciously while her conscious mind completely panicked.
Would her parents forgive her for what she had done? Could they get their jobs back? Was their house still intact or had the Death Eaters paid them a visit? Were her parents better off without her? Could she bear to watch their lack of recognition when she found them? What if something had gone wrong with her spell? Would they remember her when she lifted it? What if they didn't want to remember her? Did they manage to avoid detection by wizards? Were they even alive?
Hermione shook her head like a dog ridding itself of water. She couldn't allow herself to think such things, but they continued to float around her head like Luna's wrackspurts. How could she ever face her parents? Unfortunately, Harry was right: she hadn't thought about how to tell them. The pain she could have caused may kill her, so she avoided thinking about it at all.
What if, God forbid, something had happened to them? She simply couldn't lose another person; so many friends and idols had died. Each of them had been brushed aside by fate as life had blithely flitted away.
Dumbledore had willingly left those who were so in need of his guidance and comfort.
Sirius had happened to fall, stunned, into a lethal veil.
Dobby, a free elf, had died to save her and the others.
Remus and Tonks would never know the man their son would become.
Snape, who had been a slave to love his whole life, had never lived to see himself for the hero he was.
Colin Creevy refused to leave his friends and consequently had the breath snuffed from him like a pesky fly by the Death Eaters. His life had hardly even begun. This last and most innocent death struck her like a knife.
This was all too unfair. Here she was, a survivor of a war she had partaken in for seven years, when some who had just joined were no longer living. Why were each of them denied the minutes she was granted? The cards had been misplayed. She had flirted with death so often that she had embraced the possibility and sometimes even welcomed its invitation. She had little reason to be spared: her parents would have no memory of her, she had no one to care for, she had experienced enough of life, and none would have really missed her. Hermione had always known that she was eternally second to her best friends; they were much closer to each other than to her. "Forever the third wheel," she thought bitterly.
Hermione eventually took notice of where she'd stopped. She kneeled at the white, desecrated tomb that was in front of her and looked to it as if it held all the answers. Perhaps, if she sat here long enough, she could absorb some of the wisdom of the man it encased. She looked pleadingly at it for a few minutes, hoping for some small form of comfort. When none came, hopelessness overwhelmed her and she dissolved into tears. Hermione rocked back and forth as an icy pain seeped through her chest, the faces of the dead flashing before her eyes. Each of their lives and their irreplaceable value engulfed her mind. Hermione cried for her dashed hopes, for her fears, and for all that the dead would never have. She wondered if anything would ever turn out right in this screwed up world.
The mist had nearly lifted before she had cried herself dry. It had been a long time since she had let her feelings go and it left her feeling slightly empty, but better. She knew she must look a mess, so gathered herself and walked to the water's edge. Hermione splashed some of the lake's cool water over her face and relished the crisp and purposeful edge it gave her thoughts. The others must have begun congregating in the Great Hall for breakfast by now and she figured it would be her final chance to say goodbye to all of those she loved. Who was to say that all the danger had lifted just because Voldemort was dead? Harry was right, again; there were bound to be those who remained loyal to his ideals, just like last time. They would have to tread carefully.
Hermione placed one foot in front of the other, forcing herself to join the throng of people where she could not wallow in her sorrows and thoughts. Thank God she didn't have to pack; any more alone time would mean more unwelcome thoughts. Her deliberate footfalls echoed strangely around the destroyed entrance hall and she met no others. She couldn't help but look around, immediately reliving the battle. The ghosts of Tonks, Lupin, Dolohov, and Bellatrix battled furiously in front of her. They all twirled and shot lethal spells from their whipping wands, until each were hit by an invisible wall. As they fell, they reached for the other, fingers desperately outstretched. The ghosts of Bellatrix and Dolohov laughed cruelly, smiled maliciously at each other, and strode past Hermione out of the Great Hall. Hermione couldn't draw her eyes away from the image of Tonks sprawled on the floor, eyes wide and empty, and Lupin slumped against the wall. She hurried onward, trying to look away and regain her breath.
When she reached the Great Hall, she immediately found Ron and Harry and sat opposite them. She stuffed her mouth with eggs and toast to avoid speaking for a while, hoping she didn't display any sign of her recent breakdown. She chanced a glance at the two, and to her relief found them in an animated discussion about what they wanted to do next.
"I could go off with your brother Charlie and be a dragon wrangler! Norbert - or Norberta now I guess - and the Hungarian Horntail I battled convinced me what truly docile creatures the are. They need love and understanding," Harry said, feigning earnest.
"Hagrid couldn't have said it better, mate! Well," mused Ron, "I always fancied myself a ghost counselor. I really feel I was a positive motivational force for Myrtle." At this, the boys looked at each other and erupted into a fit of laughter. Even Hermione couldn't hold back a smile.
Wiping a tear from his eye, Ron asked "What are you going to do then Hermione? Start the International Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, I SPEW?"
"Close actually. I want to join the Ministry for Magic."
Harry actually spewed his pumpkin juice all over the table at this news. "But Hermione, you hate the ministry! You told Scrimgeour you wanted to do some good in this world. Are you ill?"
"I know, but things are different now under Kingsley. I want to join the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. I really think I can take S.P.E.W. to the next level there. I won't be joining right away though of course; I will have to finish out seventh year here."
Ron was staring at her, mouth agape. He apparently had never entertained the idea that she would want to return to her schooling. "Hermione, you don't need to come back. This last year has taught us all we need to know and you have all of the school books memorized as it is! Not to mention, the Ministry will undoubtedly hire you immediately because you already know more than most of the employees. And you can't be serious about turning spew into a career."
"I can do whatever I please," she snapped. "There is always more to learn and I want to be fully qualified. You can't simply wait for a job to fall into your lap without having even taken your N.E.W.T.s! One of us has to plan and this is why it always falls to me. You two can take over the Knight Bus for life."
Harry wouldn't meet her eyes, but Ron looked rather amused. "Come on, you know we were only joshing. I haven't even had time to search for a job after all of this mess yet. Calm down a bit and eat some kipper, will ya? Harry and I will start looking here soon. Actually, I guess you don't have to Harry, since you did inherit a small fortune. Excellent! You can just help me!"
Hermione wasn't convinced, but decided to let it go. She was going to have to spend the next few days in their company and it wouldn't do to have a row before they even left. She didn't speak to either of them again until she had finished her breakfast, though.
She put down her fork and stood. When neither boy moved, she raised an eyebrow in annoyance. Ron, seeing this, immediately popped up from the bench. As Harry was struggling for room to stand, Hermione went to where Neville and Luna were seated. Neville turned to her and grinned as she gave him a big hug. Luna roused herself from her dreamy state to stand and hug Hermione as well. Hermione found, to her great surprise, that she would miss Luna and her ludicrous beliefs a great deal. When they broke apart, Luna handed her a small fruit like a papaya.
"This Humfructus will attract Billywigs if you would like to lighten your mood. You take things seriously and ought to give yourself some relief. Harry and Ron don't understand you enough to make you feel better," she said vaguely. "If you see any Heliopaths in Australia, take a picture for me."
Hermione swallowed down the former comment and held back a retort to the latter. "I will if - if I see any. How did you know I was leaving for Australia?"
"Something in your expression," she shrugged. "And don't worry; I'm sure they will understand." Hermione didn't even bother to wonder how in the world Luna knew what she was doing, but graciously accepted the support.
Neville gave Hermione a half smile and said "Take care of yourself. Come back soon, because we will miss you and be worried if you are too long. If you need us, you know what to do.". He held up the old DA galleon.
She looked at them both and realized how lucky she was to have them. She nodded at them with a forced smile before rejoining Harry and Ron. They hugged the Weasley's goodbye and quickly made their way to the entrance hall; brief goodbyes would be less painful for all.
It was only a short walk to the gates, but to Hermione seemed an eternity. She didn't - couldn't speak as she began to shiver with a combination of nerves and lack of sleep. The gate slowly creaked open and they stepped outside the protective barriers of the school. Head determinedly set straight ahead, she reached out her hands to the boys. When they clasped her hands, she closed her eyes and turned on the spot, feeling through the nothingness.
They had stopped outside the Ministry's visitor entrance. "Why the bloody hell are we here?" inquired Ron.
"You can't just apparate to another country, Ronald. We have to go see Kingsley for a portkey," she said, rather exasperated.
Harry too looked confused. "But can't you just make one? Dumbledore did."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course I can make one, but it's illegal!" When the boys looked to her, brows raised, she threw up her hands. "If we want to have any sort of order in this country, we can't simply begin doing whatever we would like. We have to reinstate the institution. Adding to the lawlessness won't solve anything. We have to set an example! That's why we are here and not sight-seeing across the world.'
�Excellent!� exclaimed Ron. �I�ve always wanted to see the Great Wall of China!�
She shot him a silencing look and strode purposefully into the phone booth. She pounded out the numbers and crisply stated their names and purpose. The other two clambered in just in time for the booth to begin descending into the Ministry�s depths. Hermione walked straight to the elevator, since the security guard was asleep at the entrance. They reached the velvety carpet outside Kingsley�s new office and had to stop and stare at the sheer massiveness of the door. She approached it apprehensively and tentatively knocked. Though she had hardly touched it, the knocks thundered on the wood. They stood back as the doors slowly opened inward. Each of them gasped as they saw what the door contained.
Hermione�s first impression was that she was thrown into the story Beauty and the Beast; it was a massive library, but seemed to be outside. Books lined the massive walls, encompassing a garden. A brook bubbled over rocks, leading to a massive oak desk in the center of the room. The greenery was stunning. And was that the sound of birds? All Hermione could think was how much Neville would love this place.
�Harry? What are you doing here?� rumbled a low, soothing voice from the desk.
His voice broke the spell the room had cast, reminding them why they were here. �Hello, Kingsley,� said Harry, walking up to shake his hand. �So you�re the new Minister, eh? I could think of no one better!�
Kingsley chuckled and clapped a hand on Harry�s shoulder. "Thank you, Harry. And thank you for not giving up. But the time for thanks is long past. My guess is you have come for something more than to congratulate me on my new temporary position. So, what is it that you need?"
This time it was Harry that chuckled. "Sorry about this, Kingsley. We wondered if you could arrange for us a portkey to Australia. We are looking for Hermione's parents."
Calmly, Kingsley grabbed a plate from his desk. When he pointed his wand at it, it began to vibrate and glow blue. He set it back on his desk and looked at them seriously. "There are others we have yet to track down. Do you want someone to escort you in your travels? I can summon an Auror here in a moment if you would like."
"We would rather do this alone, but thanks, Kingsley."
"I thought you might say that," he smiled. "I suppose you did make it all year with the entire country after you. Keep your cloak on you at all times, just in case. Do be careful. If you need anything, you know how to contact me. The Order's method will suffice." He stood back and motioned to the plate. "The portkey will leave when you are ready."
They gathered around, each placing a finger on the plate. "And, Harry? Try not to draw attention to yourself," Kingsley chortled. The three smiled when they felt the familiar jerk behind their navel that pulled and spun them into the sky.
From the Ground, Up. by Hermiones Kneazle
Chapter Endnotes: It might be a couple weeks before the next chapter is posted, so bear with me! I'm in a musical that's taking away all my free time :)