Author's Note: This is a Hermione Granger, Fleur Delacour pairing. If this makes you uncomfortable in any way, please find the back button on your browser. I own nothing involving Harry Potter, these are simply my words streamed into a story in a way that holds meaning to me.
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A war never ends with the final battle. Though there may no longer be conflict or danger, a wars wake lasts for years to come. In the aftermath, people are left devastated and broken; both sides resent each other and themselves for all the lives that have been lost. In the end, people turn inward, afraid of what they may find. Am I still whole; are my hands still clean; can we still go on? These questions are never easily answered, and for the most intelligent, they may never be answered at all. They are debated inwardly inevitably, causing heartache and pain that could never possibly be measured. Such was the state of the life of Hermione Granger.
Heat from the summer sun radiated gently towards her, warming her skin but failing to permeate to her soul. Winds from the lake whispered across her lips and spun through her hair. Soft, plush grass stretched the knoll beneath her and tickled gently at the backs of her legs. Lake Aiguebelette could best be described as a haven. Nestled deep in the heart of the Savoie, and surrounded by the French Alps, the lake was a picturesque representation of tranquility and serenity. Since the end of the war, this was the only place she seemed to be able to find a moments peace. She could breath in the mountain air, absorb her surroundings, and just leave her mind for a small while. She had been working diligently on such a task. For the intellectual that she was, being able to pause all thought was a feat she hadn't been sure she would be able to accomplish, but the necessity of time away from her thoughts had prevailed. Every now and then her memories would take over and rip her back into reality, but the brief escapes offered her sanity in a time of chaos.
As a girl, Hermione had loved the summer, as it had always coincided with vacationing in France. Luckily, her parents were well traveled, and unlike other tourists, always chose remote locations where they could truly enjoy the French atmosphere. They had only been to Lake Aiguebelette once, but it had become her most precious memory the moment she had stretched out along its' bank to observe the waves casually crashing against the grassy shore. Since the end of the war, Hermione had apparated here in every moment of spare time she could manage to find in the cracks of her now hectic and crazy life.
Long, slender digits lifted slowly to her cheeks to cast away her tears. Crying is silly. I am not weak; I cannot be weak, not now. From her other palm, she propelled the wadded piece of parchment away from her and into the lake. A deeper sadness swept across her features as she watched it haphazardly fade into the blue-green depths. Hermione tried desperately to leave her mind again, but this time, the recollection of the words she had glimpsed on that parchment just hours ago would not let her escape.
My Dear Hermione Granger;
It is with my deepest regret that I inform you that Hogwarts will not be re-opening this year. The extensive damage to the campus was so much more than we at first had hoped and expected. We are working diligently on repairing the castle, but as you more than others are aware, there was so much ancient magic alive and breathing in its walls.
When the Ministry announced that students would not be credited for their education last year, we were all surprised, but we understood the reasoning. Last year was spent being frightened and learning what you had to for survival. Regrettably, we are informing all students that Hogwarts will re-open one school year from now. Students are being given a one-year break to recoup from the hardships and losses.
However, I know you, Hermione, will not be satisfied. You, like me, seek solace in knowledge and learning. I have written to several wizarding schools, and all have stated that they would be more than happy to take your in for your final year of schooling. In the end, the decision is up to you.
Please respond quickly, so I can make any necessary arrangements on your behalf.
Sincerely,
Mead Mistress McGonagall
Hermione had read the letter over several times before its' meaning had finally hit her like a blow to the face. A piercing scream had snuck up from her throat and filled the air around her with fear and anger. She had apparated here in an instant without thinking. Hogwarts had been her home, only there had she finally felt as if she had her own place in the world. McGonagall had been correct, she needed school. She desperately needed to be able to bury her nose in a book and scratch away with her quill until her hands went numb from the writing. She needed the familiar ink smudges on her palms and the smell of old texts in her lungs. School without Harry and Ron would be difficult, but somewhere inside was the revelation that the time apart was necessary. They had each been affected so differently by the devastation of the war and they each must have time alone to cope individually before they could begin to help each other again.
I wonder, will life ever be the same? She knew the answer to her question even before the thoughts bubbled up inside her. There is no question; only one school could ever come close to the education that I would have received at Hogwarts. At least I will be somewhere I feel safe. I will be close to my beautiful lake Aiguebelette, and can escape here if I become overwhelmed. A decision had been made. In a soft pop, Hermione was back in her room in the Granger home. Sitting down at her oak desk, the young witch took out a quill and parchment and quickly penned her response.
My Dear Minerva;
I greatly appreciate your understanding. I am so sorry to hear that the school will not be able to open as expected. This must be taking quite a toll on you. I hope that before the summer ends we will be able to meet to discuss how you are faring.
As for the matter of my education, I believe it will be best for me to continue my schooling immediately. I know you, of all people, will understand. With consistency to the level of teaching I was receiving in mind, I would like to be enrolled in Beauxbaton's. I know Madame Maxime has a strict curriculum for her students, and I look forward to a list of texts needed for my new term.
Please, take care of yourself.
Sincerely,
Hermione Granger
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End Note: This chapter and the next will be mostly scene setting, and then the plot will thicken. =) Reviews are food for the soul, and mine is hungry. Thank you.