She honestly didn't know what she was searching for.
The library had always been her home and place of solace through both battles that required her to act like an adult, and bickering between friends that made her feel thirteen again. Both magical and muggle authors had wrapped her in the comfort of their words and created a world where she could be free of what everyone expected her to be. In Narnia, she wasn't the insufferable know-it-all. In Hogwarts: A History, she wasn't one third of a trio trying to defeat an evil. In her textbooks she was just one girl trying to learn as much as she could about a world that had captivated her since she was eleven. In her novels she was a witness to protagonists journeying across galaxies, and she read about villains who were so complex, maybe they weren't villains after all. This place had been her niche, her corner away from the world warring outside, and the one thing she could always depend on.
So that's why the lack of inspiration alarmed Hermione so much.
With NEWTS done, Hermione had no exam to study for and no essay to write. Teachers were packing up their curriculum and just letting the seven years host parties in their classrooms. She had eaten enough pumpkin pasties to put someone in a food coma, and if Seamus asked McGonagall to transfigure one more desk or chair, she might just scream. So Hermione did the one thing she knew for certain- go to the library. Its familiar smell of old and new books, mixed with the sound of Mrs. Pince working behind the librarian's desk, soothed the restless feeling in her mind. She began to wander aimlessly through the aisle, touting familiar titles and reminiscing over the past seven years. Although she didn't know what she was searching for, the sense of alarm began to dissolve the longer she walked through the library.
Eventually, Hermione grabbed a novel that she had read at least six times and went to the back corner where her chair was. (That tells you how much she had frequented the room, there was "Hermione's chair" and everyone knew not to sit there). For about an hour, she was content just to read and forget the impending graduation and incoming friends. But soon, that nagging feeling you get when there's something you need to deal with became to much, and she snapped the book shut with a huff. Hermione let out a breath and began putting her mass of hair into a ponytail, mentally opening up the box she had locked and decided to never deal with again- Ron.
Ron and Harry had both opted to not go back to Hogwarts after the war for their seventh year. They had both entered aurora training after the final battle because their display of Defense Against the Dark Arts experience negated their lack of NEWTS grades. After they went through training, though, Ron had realized that he was simply following Harry and that it wasn't what he wanted to do. He decided to travel to Egypt and take a year with some of Bill's colleagues and learn about international magic, which is something he found quite interesting. Early on, he was sending Hermione letter after letter about his learning of the Egyptian language and how fascinating other wizarding cultures were. But one culture in particular didn't captivate Ron's interest, it was the whole concept of differing magical cities and languages, and the things that united the wizarding world. After he returned to England, Ron decided to study magical and non magical languages, finding that he was a natural at learning different tongues. (Hermione thought for a while that he was only learning French to impress her, but then she realized that he was actually exceptional at picking languages and slang up). Soon, this member of the golden trio got the reputation of an incredible linguist and traveller. Ron continued to write to Hermione, around once or twice a week, about people he was meeting and opportunities he had, talking about how excited he was to know be Ron Weasley, not Harry Potter's best friend.
Then, Oliver Wood reconnected with Ron and gave him a proposition. The International Confederation of Wizards Quidditch Committee, where Wood worked now after a devastating Quidditch injury, Director had just retired, and Ron's reputation and enthusiasm for Quidditch had placed him as a person of interest for the position. Ron enthusiastically had accepted and began travelling with Wood and Lee Jordan, who had become the top announcer for professional Quidditch games. Slowly, the letters had begun to dwindle in quantity and length, eventually stopping all together about three months before Hermione took her NEWTS. Hermione had been hurt and angered, seeing as Ron had dropped her like a bag of rocks while still talking to Harry and their friends almost constantly, but still firmly believed that he was just busy and they'd reconcile later when Quidditch season was over. But that reconciliation never came, so Hermione threw herself into her studies and received almost all perfect scores on her NEWTS, leaving any career path open to her.
So here she was, a week away from graduating, hiding in the library because she was scared. The girl who helped destroy the worst evil the wizarding world had ever faced was scared. Hermione was scared of announcing her career plan in front of all her friends and beloved teachers, all the press and parents, and to the rest of England. What if she picked the wrong career? What if everyone thought her choice was stupid or too obscure? There were so many what ifs that it made Hermione's head spin, and she shook her head trying to clear away the incoming panic.
She mentally made herself focus on the positives- Harry would be at her graduation, and although they had met in Hogsmeade as much as they could, Harry was a wildly popular person and a dedicated auror, so his time was limited. Neville had asked for her help in arranging the great hall into a lush canopy of plants and flowers, and they had just finished the overall design and would begin tomorrow. Her parents were travelling from France where they had moved after the war, and Hermione was thrilled to see them again. There were so many good things in her life, which is why she was so frustrated with her mind's fixation on one piece of information, something not even the library could save her from. Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out a small piece of parchment that Prospectus, her owl, had brought her last week.
"Save me a seat next week, I'd like to talk" -R. W.