Five years after the defeat of Lord Voldemort, Hermione Granger still had no idea what to do with her life. She was confused, something that did not happen very often. Her friends had been able to move on with their lives. Ron had become a competent Auror, quickly moving up in his department and gaining recognition for his genius strategies. Harry had become a professional Quidditch player, a seeker for the Puddlemere United. He and Ginny had gotten back together, and both looked content. Hermione often had tea with Ginny, trying hard not to stare at her swelling belly where her and Harry's first child rested. Neville had gone on to become the new Herbology teacher after Pomona Sprout retired. Luna had taken over The Quibbler and had gained the magazine national literary awards.
Why, Hermione wondered, was it so hard for her to move on? Night terrors haunted her. Every time she fell asleep, Bellatrix's face laughed at her. Voldemort's cruel red eyes glared from the darkness. She dreamed about Sirius falling through the veil, the dagger plunging into Dobby 's chest and the laugh that remained on Fred Weasley's face when he fell to the ground, dead. She would wake up, soaked in sweat and clutching her left arm, her fingers running over the knotted scarring. Mudblood.
She had lost weight and her face was wan and pale. Dark circles loomed under her eyes. Her friends were concerned. She went to Harry for help.
"Do what I do," Harry advised. "Don't think of it. Put all of it out of your mind and enjoy the present."
"But Harry," Hermione cried, "how do you forget? You, especially! How do you just go on as though it never happened?"
"Hermione," Harry said kindly, "I never forget, not really. But I spent my whole life fighting Tom Riddle. Now that he's gone, I want to just live, you know? I want to be normal. I still have nightmares sometimes, but when I do, Ginny is there for me."
Hermione was silent. Harry took her face in his hands.
"You'll be alright, Hermione," he said quietly. "You have Ron, Ginny, and I. You'll pull through. I just want you to be happy." He placed a soft kiss on her forehead.
Hermione smiled tiredly. "Thanks, Harry."
She had left the conversation more restless, if possible, then before. She took to wandering the streets late at night, gazing up at the endless stars. It had been so long since she had been happy. Logically, she knew she was suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder and probably depression. But she didn't much care. It was pointless. Everything was pointless. She couldn't shake the terrible thoughts from her head. Years of bullying came back as Draco Malfoy's voice drifted through her thoughts like smoke. "Filthy Mudblood." Visions of ferocious scarred dragons and murdered Muggles tortured her. She was useless. She was ugly. She was tainted.
The, one summer night, she left her flat for her usual nightly walk. It was raining out. The only sounds she could hear were the raindrops hitting the road and the occasional hum of a car in the distance. She walked slowly down the street, not bothered by the rain that was soaking her. She wandered for hours, not paying any mind to where she was going.
Really, she thought, what was the use?
She walked and walked. The world was dark and quiet. Hermione wished it were always this way. She crossed a street and came to a bridge. The musical sound of the rain on the rushing water stopped her, and she peered over the railing of the bridge, staring down at the river.
It would be nice to be a river. Always flowing, always changing.
She laughed a bit at her thoughts, turning around. But then she paused.
Always flowing. Always changing. She was trapped in this life, haunted by her past. What if she could move on? What if she could find peace?
Was this the way out?
She turned back to the river, thoughtful. Harry and Ron would be upset, yes. But really, this was about her. She would be better. And Harry and Ron would get past it. The thought of not being there for the birth of Harry's first baby hurt, but not nearly as much as continuing on in this life did. She climbed on the wet, slippery railing, and then paused again.
Should she leave a note? An explanation for her friends? She didn't have family, she thought sadly, thinking of her parents. She had obliviated them so well that she hadn't been able to undo the damage. They no longer had a daughter. Essentially, she was an orphan. The thought that her own mother and father wouldn't care if she were to actually jump resolved her. She tossed her legs over the railing and stared down.
It was a rather long fall. Hermione shuddered. She had never been fond of heights. Regardless, she took a deep breath and steeled herself. She closed her eyes and prepared to jump.