Authors Notes: I'm aware that with the last installment, the final chapter was felt as "rushed" and "anti-climatic". And the shit I had to deal with regarding the Season 3 finale of Twin Peaks smh. Anyway, it had been left open ended incase I did decide to go along with a sequel. But you know, call it anticlimactic because at least I didn't parallel universe it at the last minute. (Yes I'm still bitter about TP.) So, feel free to leave a review afterwards.

She saw those slit like red eyes glaring at her, determined to kill her. How they had lost their familiarity was beyond her. She saw a green flash after green flash but she didn't wake up. She felt herself wanting to scream. She was at such a loss of words, that trying to find them had caused her to wake up in a cold sweat.

Hermione looked around the room, it was her room. Her room with Ron. He was still snoring, unaware of her nightmare, and Hermione shoved her face into her pillow, begging death to take her to avoid hearing the snoring. Even after a week of Ron and Ginny encouraging her to try to get onto a normal sleep schedule, she still had nightmares. Flashbacks really, from the Battle of Hogwarts. It had been two years and even after therapy sessions the last six months hadn't helped. Hermione faced herself away from Ron.

The repairs on Hogwarts hadn't taken long and Hermione had decided to retake her seventh year. Ron and Harry had immediately taken entry positions with the Auror department. Of course, nothing really felt the same. Some parts had still been in repair and the class sizes were rather small, and the nightmares had been at their worst at that point. At one point, Hermione had attempted to slip into the Room of Requirement, but she hadn't seen Tom. Why would she have even wanted to? Then at graduation and months of dating had Ron asked her to marry him. Molly had fretted more over the details, and Hermione couldn't blame her for wanting something to distract herself with following the war. Her mind started to drift and Hermione found herself asleep.

/

Hermione heated up a prepackaged container of scrambled eggs and bacon once she dragged herself out of bed. Ron had already left by the time she woke up. He'd come home and nag about it as he frequently did. The flat was rather dingy but it was home. She hadn't picked up any leads on where her parents were since she sent them off to Australia with false memories. She had roughly an hour to get ready before appareling to the Ministry. Since graduating Hogwarts she'd been interning with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement before she had a solid amount of requirements to actually fill a position.

She ran Sleak Eazy's through her hair before trying to curl her hair. For the past month she'd developed a distain for the natural frizziness and hoped that the bout would go away and she could go back to not caring about her hair. Hermione grew frustrated having to settle for the black pair of pants she had over the grey pair of slacks she'd normally prefer. Only she did her laundry with Ron's and she'd been running behind on laundry in general. It was about the one normal thing she ever wanted to keep doing manually and now she was ten minutes behind schedule. Which was easy to catch up with but still inconvenient. She put on the black coat she had with the Ministry logo and grabbed her bottomless bag before preparing to leave.

It was selfish, truly selfish, that she was bored of her life. A normal, safe routine, with a normal safe fiancé, and a normal safe job. Granted, it was better than the drama and perils she'd endured during her years at Hogwarts, outside of the normal growing up, but Merlin was it boring. Talking to Ron was always pleasant, but it was just that. Pleasant. There wasn't any intellectual stimulation from it. Their conversations were so routine that they essentially responded in answers now. She had apparated into an alleyway near the Ministry entrance. Hermione turned down the left and came to the quaint little cafe that was usually perplexed by the people that walked in with strange clothes or mismatched prints but they took their customers as they did. She ordered a black and a cappuccino with two regular bagels, one with cream cheese and the other with cinnamon butter. It had been a new girl who had taken her order and the line had been surprisingly short.

She walked down the halls and could feel people looking at her every so often, but she'd been there long enough that it was hardly a big deal anymore. Her desk was clean, as it was. Hermione took out her own coffee and the bagel with the cinnamon butter and rearranged them on her desk as it was by routine. She went into her boss' office, Madam Cassini. Cassini had apparently been on friendly terms with Madam Bones prior to the elder woman's death. The office was rather barren on the walls, although there was a picture of Cassini and her daughter on her desk and a bookshelf on the back wall.

"I brought you a coffee," Hermione said.

"That muggle stuff?" Cassini asked. Hermione gave a small nod. "Love that stuff. Usually burned but never unlikeable. Has that heart to it."

Cassini eagerly took the bagel and remaining coffee from Hermione.

"Also, I'll be gone for the next two weeks," Cassini continued.

"Yes, that meeting with the German Ministry," Hermione said.

"That one. Well, a case came in late last week. Apparently this, Georgina Smith is suspected of murder, the Auror department is supposed to inspect the mansion and I need someone to give me an accurate report of the events and collect whatever information there is on the case with that."

"You want me on a field assignment?"

"You're one of the best, Miss Granger. I trust you with this. I also think your friend Potter is on the assignment."

"Thank you, Madam."

Madam Cassini waved her out of the Room with a case file following behind her. Hermione looked over the case report as she inserted her normal information data. Apparently, a witch, Moira Verone, half-blood age: 28, had gone over to Georgina's mansion as a part time maid and her family hadn't heard back in forty eight hours about what had happened to her. Hence the report. Georgina, pure-blood age: 59, had a rather radical streak that nobody had paid attention to, and was suspected of supporting Voldemort. They weren't quite sure what the murder object was, and the team that would be going out the next week would be looking for any sign of Moira.

Hermione closed the case file and went back to inserting her main information. Numbers, names, fill in whatever was needed; working on this case would hopefully give her some much needed variation in her life. Harry had dropped by her desk around lunch, Mrs. Weasley had wanted him to deliver her a bag that had some sort of sandwich and a pastry. Apparently the matriarch had been concerned about her eating habits since she had become too absentminded to remember to eat.

"What do you think about the case?" Harry asked.

"Well, odd. There's no current evidence that would suggest a motive, and there isn't a body," Hermione said, glancing at the review file on her desk.

"The Auror department has a house elf of Smith's under custody right now. That should hopefully give us enough of a background for when we go to inspect the place next week."

"Best case scenario."

"How are things with Ron by the way?"

"They're... going."

"Hermione, you're getting married in a year. You can't tell me it's 'just going'."

She bit her lip and tried to avoid Harry's gaze. Ron hardly ever paid attention to her nightmares, and never really seemed to be outwardly... She couldn't find quite the right word because he did have more than a teaspoon of emotions.

"It's just... too perfect you know? Everything's working out like it should and I just... I feel horrible because how could I ever be ungrateful for having Ron? For being with someone I... love. I love him. And it's so sickly perfect I want to throw up," Hermione admitted. "I mean, tell me that's normal. That you're supposed to grow resentment towards your partner because of how... perfect everything is. That you can just check a box off of a list of things you're expected to do. Because I love him, Harry, I do. I just hate that feeling. Where I get what everyone should want and half of those people are dead."

"With the after math of the war, I can't blame your mentality. But you're allowed to be selfish, Hermione," Harry said. "Everyone deserves to be happy."

Hermione rolled her eyes to Harry's bemusement.

"Look, Ginny just finished Hogwarts and I think it would be a good idea if we had a dinner. Maybe after the inspection next week," Harry added.

"Sounds... great," Hermione said. She picked apart at the pastry. Did she like the blueberry tinted stuff, or was it something that she swept under the rug to avoid seeming like an entitled ass? Picking it apart was easier than dealing with it.

"Are you sure you're okay though Hermione? I wouldn't have wanted to add your name to the roster for this case if you weren't."

"You suggested me for the case?"

"Of course. You're brilliant. And are you positive you're okay?"

"Yes Harry."

"I should probably go back to my office, so I'll see you next week."

"Yeah, see you next week."

He glanced over at her before he left. The floor began to fill up again as people came back from their lunch breaks.

/

Ron rolled off of Hermione and she admittedly only felt relieved that it was over with. She stumbled into the bathroom, and when she walked out she heard Ron snoring, again. Her hand went over her stomach as she laid down again and recounted her times with the younger Tom Riddle. At the time he had been older, only as her years went by did the memories drift. Some days were sharper than others. And yet that was a one way street because he was... completely messed up as a person. She was glad he was dead. Hermione felt herself repeating the phrase, hoping that at some point she would believe it. And yet he had caused so many people pain. People she loved had lost people close to them because of him. It occurred to her that maybe there could be someway that she could go back in time and prevent the war from happening. This was an idea that was bound to be met with discouragement. She was too bright to go into the past when she could build the future. Hermione looked at her engagement ring sitting on the nightstand.

Was this really something she could push herself through for the rest of her life?

/

Although they had had plans to go out for a picnic, Ron had been called into work on an important update of some sort. It was somewhat disappointing experience. The times she actually spent with Ron was so few and far in between when they weren't trying to go off to work. Of course they needed the money and they needed their jobs to move up to places they actually wanted to be. And it was probably the one thing she had looked forward to doing with Ron. The empty feeling she had since the war, and admittedly sometime before, began to lodge itself deeper in her to her resentment.

She wasn't quite sure why she had called up Harry. To hear the phone actually pick up and not go to voicemail over a dense magical area was somewhat surprising.

"Hi, Hermione. Is everything okay?" he asked.

"I think I need to go back into the past," Hermione stated bluntly.

"Sorry, what?"

"Just, I know how to kill Voldemort now and I'm probably the most capable of the three of us that... maybe if I do I can prevent all of this from happening."

"Have you seen a therapist lately?"

"I'm not crazy, Harry."

"I'm not saying you are. Hermione. Listen to yourself, it's ridiculous. You'd disrupt what led to all of us being friends, and what's done is done. Voldemort is gone, Hermione. I know it's been difficult on all of us but that plan sounds incredibly self destructive."

"It's not self destructive if it's for the greater good."

"Hermione, you had a chance to kill Tom Riddle. Realistically, no, because of the horcruxes. But it's absolutely messed up that you claimed you fell in love with him and yet you knew what he did. To all of us. What makes you think you could put yourself in a toxic situation like that again where none of us can help you?"

There was a pause in the conversation. He did have a point. But she wasn't trying to be self destructive.

"You're right, I'll just... work things out with Ron," Hermione said.

"Alright. Well I have to get going for Ginny's quidditch practice today, should I call you later?"

"If anything comes up I'll call you. But hearing how ridiculous I sounded with talking with you, I think it helped."

"Okay, Hermione. Gotta go now, bye."

"Bye."

The line had already cut out by the time she caught on. Perhaps she was being self-destructive. Always the off chance she could be practical about the situation.

It did bother her that her mind did wander towards Tom. This had been perhaps the only time she'd ever told Harry, much less anyone, about going back to the past and killing the future Lord Voldemort. She'd attempt to cram down the intrusive thoughts but they'd always come back in someway or another.

When Ron came home later, he told her that there had been a possible lead on her parents down in Australia. Hermione was thrilled, and then she felt vaguely guilty about reminiscing about Tom the night before. And being somewhat ungrateful towards Ron when he'd been trying to help her find her parents. If the lead went anywhere he suggested that they ought to go find them and return their memories if possible so they could attend the wedding. The wedding. Her hand twisted the ring on her finger.

There were six of them on the inspection team. Harry was essentially lead despite being the one under mentorship. Leadership practice apparently. Georgina Smith was apparently still in custody for them to inspect the mansion. Hermione took the lead with Harry as they wandered around the mansion in search of evidence.

"I'm positive this is the same mansion Hepezilda had," Harry said. "From the memories Dumbledore showed me."

"What did the house elf say from that interrogation?" Hermione asked.

"Apparently Verone had over heard something and Smith had yelled a good amount of insults before she left. Then there was the following time Verone showed up and the elf, Zeph, had seen Smith go upstairs after her."

"What do you think it was about?"

"The house elf was under a binding spell. Couldn't tell us but we have a curse breaker working on deactivating the hex."

"You said the elf said upstairs, we might as well check."

They went farther upstairs, and for some reason it felt colder. Probably just bad heating, Hermione told herself. She found herself rebuttoning her jacket in an attempt to stay warm. The rest of the group was still inspecting the downstairs area. They peaked through the doors, trying to find some evidence of Moira Verone to come up with nothing. The spare rooms were spotless. However, down the end of the right hall was a door they hadn't opened. A bad vibe rang through Hermione. She didn't necessarily want to go in the door but Harry had already unlocked it.

"Ron's looking forward to the dinner tomorrow," Hermione said as they walked through.

"I think I'm going to try to make spaghetti. If it doesn't work out I'm sure Ginny will try to order take out from this Chinese food place I made the mistake of introducing her to," Harry stated.

They found boxes of weird antiques. On the side of a wall was a dresser with strange looking trinkets.

"Must be from a will," Harry said.

"Borgin and Burkes would have a field day," Hermione said sarcastically.

They continued looking around. There was a strange smell coming from the back and they lifted their wands as they wandered towards it. On the side of the wall away from the draped covered windows was a mirror. It was circular shaped with a silver rim and had a luring pull to it. Hermione looked down and saw a severed hand.

"Oh dear Merlin," she sputtered out.

"That's probably Moira," Harry said.

"But where's the rest of her?"

They looked around the area where the hand was to no avail. There was however a faint dried blood trail that dropped shortly from the mirror. Only Hermione found herself drawn back to the mirror when she looked at it again.

"Hermione what are you doing?" Harry demanded.

She walked closer to the mirror and saw that the scene had shifted in it.

"I think there's something... wrong about this mirror. It's not showing my reflection," Hermione responded. She could see Tom. "Harry!"

"What?" he asked, rushing over to her anxiously.

"I see him."

Her voice had a dream like quality to it as she said it. He was walking around a shop, probably a little older than the last time she had seen him when she was young.

"Hermione, step closer to me," Harry said calmly.

She looked over at Harry who had a stunned look on his face. The mirror was echoing out to her; she turned back to it and went to touch the glass. It felt like water. There was a calm sensation over her and she felt like her head was being dunked into a sleep state.