A.N. I am not a writer, I never have been able to transfer my ideas into a story. But this tiny drabble has been in my mind for weeks and I just had to share it.

Edit: 10/16/18 minor editing

Tires squealed against the pavement, frantically trying to gain traction and stop moving.The mangled cry of a child in pain rent the air at the exact moment her clock chimed.

Five years had passed. Seventy months of feeling the guilt of losing her. So many days that Ron made sure to remind her that if only she hadn't insisted on leaving wizarding London.

Her wand was in her hand before she knew it, and despite knowing that she was in a muggle neighborhood she kept it in sight. War heroines still have privileges 6 years later, don't they?

Today would have been her first train to Hogwarts. She would have been gushing with happiness over her owl and the prospect of learning more magic. Maybe they could have even roped Ron into accompanying them, if he could've beared to be away from Lavender for a few moments.

After all, Lavender was there to heal what she, Hermione, had been unable to. Because Hermione was too caught up in her career and after... after having Rose, she was too caught up in making sure that her child knew her muggle heritage as well. Meanwhile, Ron felt left out and Lavender was all too willing to help out.

Her bicycle was overturned, mangled beyond repair but her thoughts were far from the cost of a new toy. Because next to the twisted frame of her bicycle, lay the only reason for her existence.

McGonagall had called her today, weary of what she might do on a day that reminded her so much of her Rose. It was nice to know that someone still cared for the brains of the Golden Trio. Even if the Headmistress's concern was misplaced, it had been a long time since she was suicidal.

On what would have been Rose's seventh birthday, Hermione had been seconds away from drinking poison. Harry had been able to find her in time but ever since then, everyone tread lightly around her. Especially since Ron insisted on making sure to bring to up Rose in every conversation.

Never visiting the Burrow anymore became a painful necessity.

Her tiny body, covered in cuts, made Hermione feel as though she was back in the War, watching as Bellatrix tormented her with Crucios. The way her neck was twisted made it obvious that she was beyond saving but she tried. She Apparated to St. Mungo's in desperation, hoping someone had magic to heal her Rose.

Last week, Harry had mentioned during a reunion that his scar never hurt anymore. Jokingly, someone—probably George—said that meant all was well. Everyone except for Hermione laughed.

All was not well.

"No, Ms. Granger, we can't save your daughter. The vehicle crushed her internal organs and severed her spine. If she had been alive when she arrived maybe we could have saved her but..." the Healer looked nervous as he spoke the words that would irrevocably change her life. "Your daughter died instantly."