The Time Turner's Curse
Hermione opened her eyes, to once again see the familiar scene of the hill overlooking Hagrid's hut on the grounds of Hogwarts. Looking down at herself, she rolled her eyes when she saw the pink hoodie she'd come to hate over the many years. Placing her hands on her chest, she thought to herself, it's nice to see you girls back where you belong. Once again she was sent back to her third-year at Hogwarts, where she would have to live through life all over again.
Damn! Forty-Three!
Hermione was sixty-five when the curse reset this time, she was getting old, and well, wasn't as perky as she once was. Now she was fourteen years old again, standing on the hill. Moments ago she was cursed by Draco for the forty-third time. Or was it forty-four? She shook her head, knowing she was losing count and never really knew whether to count the first life.
She was losing count of how many times she'd to watch Ron die. Sometimes they were young, sometimes very old. But always, he would die, and it would rip what was left of her tarnished soul to pieces. After a few seconds of a thunderous scream, she would then end up back here, fourteen again. Fourteen with cramps! Her hands grabbed her lower stomach as she made a sour face. As if this'sn't bad enough!
Okay! Let's see, she thought making a mental list of the lessons she learned. She needed to get her old life down on parchment quickly before the memories faded in with all the others. Hermione had done this so many times, she was afraid of wasting a life, and an unnecessary heartbreak on something she'd already tried
Let's see, if I go after Voldemort, there's nothing I can do to keep Ron from following, so that'll never work. Even with us being senior Aurors we couldn't take him, even in our thirties, so scratch that theory. Perhaps, I can make my stand at Hogwarts in our seventh year. Yes, after Harry dies.
Harry always died, this she was used to by now, but no matter what happened she couldn't stop loving Ron. Her love for Ron was her curse, and his survival was the only thing that might end this reoccurring hell, only Ron. She'd seen Harry die too many times to count, and as sorry as she was to admit it, long ago she became numb to his passing. Ron was the one, no matter what she did to prevent or prepare for his death; it tore her to pieces every single time
Even after I left Hogwarts and went back to a Muggle life, I still loved him. Twenty years of minding my own business in London with my children and husband, and still Ron walked into that damn coffee shop. We'd owned that shop for years and never had been robbed, but as soon as Ron walked in I knew, I KNEW something was about to happen. Sure enough that'd be the time the Irish Goon Squad showed up for their weekly payment, and Ron was always so brave. I just knew. All if this right in front of me and in front of my little angel, Hannah.
The thought of Hermione's little girl made her heart crack; oh, how she missed her daughter. It was so many lives ago, but Hannah was always her favorite, of all of her children. Hannah was the most like her, and now she didn't exist because of this damn curse! Hermione's heart sped up thinking of her Muggle husband, Jason, Hannah's father. He was a good man, a better husband, and a great great. Quietly she whispered a Muggle prayer for his happiness, knowing now they would never meet.
Hermione pulled the time-turner from under her shirt and yanked it off her neck. Standing at the edge of the forest she picked up a rock and smashed it, a ritual she repeated with every life.
So let's see, after Harry dies, how can I save Ron? The Battle for Hogwarts, think, think! At that point in his life, he's no match for Bellatrix, so he can't engage her, but if I fight Bellatrix? No, that'll leave Ron to fight Voldemort, and we know what'll happen there.
Hermione shivered remembering the last time Ron and Voldemort dueled.
Time, as always, went painfully slow. Hermione wished she could just fast forward to the point of Ron's death, but no; she'd have to live every day in its entirety, never knowing when his death would come. The passage of these last four years, to this, the final battle at Hogwarts was extremely long. So was much of this life was completely different than most of her memories. The differences made it easier for her to act clueless to the events as they took place, as much of today was completely new for her. With no idea what was to happen next no one was accusing her of being as crazy as Professor Trelawney.
Standing outside the Great Hall avoiding the fleeing students, she went through her plan, one last time.
Get inside; get Bellatrix down before she sees Ron. As long as Bellatrix is occupied she won't try to get revenge on Ron for the scar he put on her face. Stick in the duel with Bellatrix until Ginny dies, then move on to Voldemort. If Ron can keep himself occupied with George and Percy on Rodolphus LeStrange, there's a chance this might work. Forty-four lives of magical education, I can handle Bellatrix LeStrange and Tom Riddle; I just have to keep Ron out of it!
Hermione turned to Ron whose face showed that he was still reeling over Harry's death. She relayed her instructions to him. He nodded his understanding. Oh, how she wished she could just curse him, or render him unconscious, but when she took him out of the fight in the past he always ended up dead. It would be better if she could keep him moving, and keep her eye on him.
She gave him a cocky wink and a kiss on the lips that surprised him, but she turned into the Great Hall before he could ask her about such an unprecedented display of affection. As she turned the corner, Bellatrix stood before her, dueling Ginny, Luna and Fred Weasley. As confident expression painted her face, Hermione engaged.
A Killing Curse blasted Ginny in the chest, which was Hermione's cue to move away. With a flick of her wand, Bellatrix had no defense against a non verbal casting the forth Unforgivable Curse – "IMPRACTA QUARA." Of course Bellatrix had no defense against the spell; it hadn't been invented yet. The four quarters of what remained of the LeStrange witch fell to the floor freeing Hermione to move on.
She sprinted over to Voldemort, just in time to see him kill Arthur and Bill Weasley with a single snap of his wand. Stepping over Harry's body Hermione screamed inside her head, "AVADA KEDAVRA!" This was the first record of a silent Killing Curse, well, the first in this time.
Voldemort never saw it coming. He was dead, again.
For the record, that's Hermione thirty-six; Voldemort four, with two draws.
As she turned her worst fears came into focus right before her eyes. In this life, George and Percy didn't step up to Rodolphus LeStrange and that one deviation changed everything. Ron and Rodolphus alone! NO! She sprinted, but it was no use. Ron, engulfed in Avada Kedavra, fell limp at her feet just as she got in range.
Here we go again, bring on the pain.
Her heart crumbled inside her chest, again, as she knelt down beside him. She touched his face, as tears fell from hers. No matter how many times she watched Ron die, her bewitched heart reacted as if it were the first. Each and every time, the pain was new and equally intense.
Her ears began to ring, telling her it was happening again. A moment later, after a blinding white light she was standing outside Hogwarts, wearing her pink hoodie.
Damn. Forty-Five!
Her next four lives were anything but a blur. Still she found herself standing in the forest, depressed. The forty-sixth and forty-seventh lives never made it out of school, with Ron falling victim to the point of Bellatrix's knife in one and him being killed by a misfired Killing Curse from Neville's wand in the other.
The forty-eighth life was a real nightmare. Both she and Ron survived the battle and were married, again. Since Voldemort didn't die at Hogwarts, Harry, who lived this one time, led Voldemort into a trap where Dumbledore, Moody, Sirius, Tonks, Kingsley with recent Auror graduates Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were all waiting for him. Voldemort may have been the best ever, but in this one instance there was just too much firepower standing against him. Dumbledore got the anti-disapporating spells up before he was killed in battle, so Voldemort couldn't escape. Tonks kept him for flying away, which eventually led to her death, but the power against Voldemort was still too much. Harry fell but they killed Voldemort again, well, it was again for Hermione.
She thought for sure she'd the curse broken this time. Hermione thought it was over, and even managed to forget about the curse for a while. She and Ron dated and got engaged. Ron again, and as always, fussed about Hermione's lack of interest in their wedding plans, wondering if she was the only woman on the planet immune to the "bride-zilla" gene most get when planning their dream wedding.
I don't know Ron; maybe I'm out of wedding ideas having married you thirty-one times already.
Well, it didn't work. Ron's death in that life was different than most, and by far the worst that she could remember. After a string of heart-breaking miscarriage's she and Ron divorced for the second ever time, and as always her curse didn't reset. She had the torturous pleasure of living her life alone for another nineteen years without Ron, before alcoholism finally claimed him. Being the sole surviving Weasley, unable to have a child, unable to carry on his family's name, losing Harry, and then his marriage was just far too much for any man to deal with. He felt that he himself was cursed and blamed himself for Hermione's miscarriages; sadly, it was only a matter of time. Ron's funeral was the hardest death Hermione had ever experienced. With all the others, she was at least with him at the end. The hurt of knowing he died alone caused a wound in her soul she knew even time itself couldn't fix. This life was the one time she didn't reset to fourteen when he died. In a cruel irony, she remained until he was buried.
Her forty-ninth life, the most recent one, sent shivers of nausea down her spine. Three words echoed in her mind making her skin crawl. She knew had to test the theory and in turn had avoided it for at least twenty lives. Three words, she hoped she'd forget one day. Hermione was so disgusted she let him touch her, let alone wed her. Just to find out how to break the curse, the price was too high. But she paid it anyway. Three words: Misses Hermione Malfoy.
Thank Merlin it didn't work. Thank Merlin I didn't have to stay too long in that life. Rest in peace Darius and Orion, my babies. Mummy loves you!
Damn, fifty. Seems like five-hundred.
Hermione smashed the time turner on the usual rock, and headed back up towards the castle to prepare for their evening. She needed to brainstorm before they went to the Shrieking Shack and where Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew would be entering the picture. She needed to practice looking surprised. It was always hard for her to see Sirius right after he escaped for Azkaban, so disturbed and angry. The sight of him during this time always upset her so much because he was so unbelievably different than the lifelong friend of her fifth life. That life was by far her favorite, and the one she missed the most. In that fifth life, Sirius escaped from Azkaban after he was recaptured but never did get to tell Harry he was his godfather before Harry was killed by Peter Pettigrew. Many years later, when Hermione named her first born son Harry, she asked Sirius if he would take over as the boy's godfather. Neither she nor Ron objected and in turn, the friendship of a lifetime started, and Hermione very much missed the long talks with her dear old friend, Sirius.
Oh, that was so long ago.
It took nine years in Azkaban for her to die, and reset the curse. Nine years of her life sentence for killing Draco Malfoy her sixth year at Hogwart's. It was a spur of the moment idea, after Draco killed Dumbledore, but the corrupt Ministry, under intense pressure from Draco's father Lucius, threw the proverbial book at the sixteen year old Muggle-born witch. In reality, Azkaban prison was a hundred times worse than she'd ever imagined. What little time she spent out of her chains with the general population was a never ending and futile battle to keep all the wizards hands off the young witches. Based on the reactions of the guards, the physical torment of witches by the male inmate-wizards seemed an acceptable part of their punishment. The guards never intervened and often times participated.
After attempting to starve herself to death several times, before being stopped, she finally found a new way to die. One day in the community showers, she was stabbed superficially in the abdomen by a homemade weapon. Hermione didn't report the attack or her festering wound. It took six weeks for the infection to run its course. Six weeks letting maggots and rats chew on her dying flesh. Knowing full well she would not get another trip to the general population for two more months, she sat quietly in her cell doing her best to swallow the pain and waiting patiently for death to take her. She bore the pain as best she could, and prayed; desperate to be fourteen again.
Finally she stood atop the hill, doubling over to the welcomed menstrual pains returning to her gut. As she forced the more graphic memories of Azkaban from her mind, she repeated her ritual frantic brainstorming.
Damn, fifty-one.
Pulling the time turner from her pink hoodie, she set in on the rock, preparing to smash it. As she raised a second rock her hand suddenly halted over her head.
The Time Turner! Oh, stupid girl!
She ditched the rock and ran for her life across the school grounds, trying to get to the library before it closed. After hundreds of years of living she was still not very patient. She needed to do research and no, it couldn't wait until morning.
After fifteen minutes buried in books she found all the information she would need to know. Yes, time turners are susceptible to curses, but only involuntary ones. You can't curse a time turner directly, as they're curse proof. However, as most wearers of the turners do so around the neck, a seemingly harmless curse to the chest would have dire consequences. Hermione needed no more research; she knew what she had to do now. She closed the book and heard an unexpected noise behind her, but turning around to look her eyes found nothing but books.
Reaching into her shirt she retrieved the time turner giving it a one-eighth turn. The world spun around her in rewind as the inner hoop of the time turner spun in a blur. Finally it stopped. Hermione looked desperately around the library for a clock.
Thirty-six minutes, damn! Gonna be quite a run!
Hermione ran out of the library at a full sprint, avoiding high traffic areas while trying desperately to get to where her double was located at this very moment. To the other side of the grounds she ran. After a hundred lifetimes, it was now that she had no time. Moving through the woods and concealed by the foliage she noiselessly approached Ron, Harry, herself, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. Crouching behind a tree she waited where they couldn't see, her wand at the ready.
Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione caught more movement. Her face broadcast a shocked look as a third Hermione appeared with Harry, Ron was oddly not present. They too were hiding from the original group. Hermione ducked as she watched her other, other self and the other Harry hide.
Huh? Did they use the time turner too?
Hermione was confused, and lost her concentration on the main group. She stared at the closer version of herself, just twenty meters away. The second Harry stared at the group, waiting for the first, or third Hermione, whichever, to punch Draco. The cursed Hermione needed to act before that happened.
Just as she started to look back to the original trio, her double, the one with Harry turned around and looked right at where she was standing. She gave a blank stare into the woods, a faint wink and a smile. The Hermione standing alone, realized all of the sudden that this plan was going to work. Turning back to the originals, it was almost her time to act. Draco was spouting off calling her a mud-blood, secretly pulling his wand.
Hermione raised her wand from the woods and whispered in her mind: "Protego!" The timing of her counter-curse was perfect, hitting her double just before Malfoy's curse landed, and just as Hermione from this time spun around and stuck her wand in Draco's face.
Hermione's heart leapt in excitement.
If the curse never happened, if it never hit the time turner, then I don't have to break it!
She felt her emotions begin to swell, but she forced them back. She now had only a few minutes to get back to the library.
Hermione ran full steam into the library trying to remember from which alcove she spun the time turner. As she approached her double, her shoulder knocked over a stack of books making a loud racket. As she turned the last corner, she watched the earlier version of herself vanish holding the spinning gold turner.
Yes! She screamed inside her head.
Hermione pulled the time turner from her shirt planning to smash it with the biggest, heaviest book she could find, but stopped.
Oh, I need this again. Tonight! Tonight?
Hermione gasped realizing she needed to meet up with Harry and Ron immediately. Again she was running through the grounds, before finally catching up with them.
Their day was different, well parts of it were different than she remembered. They did make it to the Shrieking Shack, and saw her old friend Sirius for their official first ever meeting. Only this time Professor Lupin was there too. Harry stunned Professor Snape, which had never happened before, only this time Peter Pettigrew escaped.
The biggest change in the timeline was knowing she would have to use the time turner again. After Sirius bit Ron by accident which landed him in the infirmary, Harry and she used the time turner to change the past. Hermione wondered if she was tempting fate after what all she'd went through, but after Professor Dumbledore practically gave them permission to use it, she decided it would be okay.
Hermione and Harry managed to save Sirius and Buckbeak the Hippogriff, the latter of which was an option she'd never explored before in her previous lives.
Sitting alone on her bed in the girl's dormitory of Gryffindor Tower, she held the time turner in her hand. Her fingers trembled around it, and she swore it would never be used again. On the floor, at the foot of her bed, the smoldering ruins of her pink hoodie, cursed and destroyed by her wand.
It had been eight nights of agony since they saved Sirius. Harry and Ron were ecstatic after having another exciting year at Hogwarts. Hermione faked happiness around them, as the trauma of her countless lives lived began to wilt her heart. For some reason she thought she'd be returned to her first life, not be forced to live in the last one.
She sucked in one last breath of bravery, stood and walked out of Gryffindor Tower. Walking slowly through the halls of Hogwarts towards the headmaster's office, she recalled every memory she could muster from her many lives. Tears streaked her face as she remembered her children.
Oh, my babies, my boys! Wherever you are know that mum will love your forever. Darius Lucios, Orion Centauri, Harry James, Ronald Frederick, Ronald Harry, Jason Michael, Albus James, Aaron Wesley, and Daniel Matthew. And Hannah, my angel, mum loves you all!
As she approached the gargoyle of the headmaster's office she knew she didn't need the current password. Smiling, she whispered the headmaster's codeword. Professor Dumbledore always said that being Hogwarts Headmaster had its privileges. A philosophy Hermione completely agreed with and applied personally during both of her stints as Hogwarts Headmistress. Upon hearing the code word, the gargoyle revealed the staircase, and as she knocked quietly on Professor Dumbledore's door, she knew he was awake, even at this hour. When this was her office, she was always awake at this hour.
Walking into Dumbledore's office she sat down, maintaining her composure as Dumbledore looked at her in complete shock.
"Professor," she opened softly. "I'm having a problem that only your wisdom and skill with magic can solve. However unorthodox it may be, I ask that you hear me out completely, before you say no. I assure you, you can expel me, arrest me, even use the Cruciatus Curse on me, but I will not leave until you've heard me out entirely."
Dumbledore's face flinched when she mentioned an unforgivable curse, something a third year, even of Hermione's magnitude would know nothing about.
Damn, be careful, watch your mouth.
The professor didn't speak for several seconds, choosing his words carefully. "Isn't it more appropriate for you to be speaking with Professor McGonagall, Miss Granger?"
"No, only you Professor," she replied sternly.
Dumbledore nodded, taking a seat behind his desk. He gave her a nod to proceed. Taking a deep breath, Hermione spoke.
"I've had a very serious time turner malfunction, Professor. You're aware Professor McGonagall gave me permission to use one this year to increase my work load?"
Dumbledore didn't speak, nor did his face move for several seconds.
"I need your help to undo what's been done to me."
"How far did you go back, Hermione?"
"I didn't go back, sir. I went forward."
"How far?" he asked, leaning forward in his chair.
"Far enough," she snapped aggressively. "Far enough, to have seen things I should not, and know things I should not. Would you like to duel, for your Elder Wand, Professor? Or perhaps I can save you the time and trouble of locating the Resurrection Stone? With Harry's cloak, and your wand, that'd unite the Deathly Hallows, wouldn't it?"
Dumbledore smiled, but as quickly as it arrived, it faded as he absorbed the magnitude of her statement.
Yes, I know of the elder wand, and yes, I think I'm strong enough to take it from you. A hundred lifetimes of magic I know, you don't have a chance against me. And yes, I know you are probably using the Legilimens charm on me right now Professor.
Dumbledore's face didn't react to her thoughts, which neither confirmed nor denied he was listening in on her mind.
"I'm fourteen, Professor. A fourteen year old who's had many children and grandchildren. Fourteen who's killed, and been killed more times than she can count. Fourteen going on fourteen hundred." Hermione was crying now, quietly. "Can you please have Professor Snape erase these memories? Ignoring the emotional damage is one thing, but I know things. Secret things I shouldn't know, things that'll get people killed."
"Emotional damage?" he asked, confused. "I don't understand."
"Being one of the only witches in Azkaban for almost a decade, makes you the target of much," she paused, searching for the word, "desire."
The headmaster's head snapped back, realizing what she was talking about.
After a brisk, silent walk through the darkened corridors of Hogwartsr they were standing in the dungeon staring at a very sleepy and very annoyed looking Severus Snape. Dumbledore explained vaguely what'd happened to Hermione, and after a ten minute argument, Snape agreed to perform the charm.
Professor Dumbledore excused himself, and Hermione took a seat in an ancient looking wooden chair, before jumping up and running out after her head master. Nearly out of breath she caught up to him in the hall.
"Professor?" she asked in a whisper. "May I tell you one thing, before my memory is gone?"
"No, Miss Granger, you may not."
"At the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament," she spoke anyway, "if Harry tells you something impossible, please believe him. Please, this is paramount, you must believe him. The alternative is rather unpleasant, and everything he'll tell you is true." In one life, Hermione recalled in her mind, Dumbledore didn't believe Harry; that Lord Voldemort had returned. Once Voldemort recruited Harry as his number one Death Eater, together they brought forth an unfathomable apocalypse.
Dumbledore stared at her, wondering how this young witch knew about the unannounced Tri-Wizard Tournament scheduled secretly for next year. Hermione smiled and rubbed her left arm. It was a million lives ago when her Dark Mark was burned into her skin by Voldemort himself. She was so proud of her Dark Mark at the time, which was yet another truth that made her curse that much nastier. In each life, whether she married Draco Malfoy, murdered Harry Potter, or became a Death Eater; all lives required total commitment to her plan. In this case, the life she led as a Death Eater, she was, without a doubt, the most feared next to the Dark Lord himself.
Hermione snapped her mind back into the moment, staring at Professor Dumbledore while he processed the information she just forced on him. With a polite nod, she returned to Professor Snape's office.
Snape paced around her, attempting to grasp the magnitude of the situation.
"Is there anything you wish to remember, Granger?" Snape asked, with a condescending tone of dislike and annoyance. Snape's act appearing to be heartless was convincing, she almost forgot for a moment, who he really was.
"No, take it all. Take the good and the bad. Take everything."
"I'll need to see, so I know how far to go," he stated with a bite in his tone.
"I understand, Professor." Hermione looked up at him with her brown eyes and spoke with as much respect for her hero as she could possibly force out of her mouth. She knew in a matter of minutes, if all went according to plan, she would hate him again.
Snape raised his wand and entered her mind. Hermione felt her memories being accessed as fast as a computer could process data. One life, to another, to another, and yet another. He poured through her loves, her pain, and even her intimate moments with her lovers. Snape showed no restraint accessing everything he could, as she expected him to do, and she offered no resistance to his probe. In another time she would have loved to try her Occulmancy against Severus Snape's Legilimens, but that particular contest was not meant to be.
Professor Dumbledore could have easily wiped her memory, but she wanted Snape. It had to be Snape; he needed to know what she knew. Albus Dumbledore was smart enough to be able to make it through anything, but Severus Snape needed to see what she'd seen. Her heart ached for his self-inflicted mission to avenge Lily Potter. All of those years in isolation, with no support or recognition, he needed to know.
After a few painful minutes Snape released his grip on her mind, stumbling backwards to his desk he wore a look of both pure shock and pure horror.
"S-So, so it's true. He comes back." Snape whispered.
"Yes," Hermione said confidently, her voice just above a whisper. She stared directly into his eyes, reaching, feeling, trying to sense anything. Trying to help push his mind in the right direction before all of her memories were lost.
"And I-,"
"Yes," she smiled and nodded at him.
"It works?" he gasped.
"Sometimes, yes it does."
Hermione offered the most sincere and affectionate smile to her mentor, hoping to console him. It was no use though, in this life, she was fourteen, and he hated her. As he stood to his feet, she quickly ran through a few memories she wished she could keep. Memories of Hannah, her only daughter, and of Ronald. The Ron that she fell in love with, and the happy times they spent married in that first life before Bellatrix LeStrange murdered Ron.
She knew things may not end like they had in any of her countless lives, but there was still a chance. Still a small chance they could be together and survive.
With glossy eyes, Snape stepped forward towards Hermione and raised his wand. From the arm of her chair, Hermione raised her index finger to halt him briefly.
"You're a good man, Severus. The world will see it before the end. I'll make sure of it."
Holding his wand out straight her words caught him, and his head snapped away from her eyes hiding his face. A moment later, a composed straight look turned back to face her, fresh tear tracks on his skin.
"ENDOCUTEN!" he commanded, and with a flash of light Hermione went limp in the chair.
Hermione raised her head and opened her eyes. She was confused and disorientated. Blinking the light into focus, she saw she was in Professor Snape's office sitting in an old chair. Her wand was in her right hand. She looked around the room and spotted the Head of Slytherin House with his back turned to her.
"Professor?" she asked quietly.
"Ah, Granger," he snorted with his usual nasal voice. He didn't turn to face her. "Fifty points from Gryffindor, for your snot mouth, and another fifty for inappropriate conduct towards a teacher. You might want to take note of your headache and patched memory should you consider pointing your wand at me again."
"What?!" Hermione gasped completely mortified.
"If you ever attempt to curse me again, Muggle-born, you'll do well to know that the only reason you are alive now is because I'm a teacher. If you ever raise your wand to me again, I'll gladly give up my post to end you. Do you understand me?"
"Professor, I –"
"You're dismissed, Granger, now get out before I change my mind. Be thankful I don't have you expelled."
Hermione stood with a wobble, and exited the office more confused than she'd ever been in her life.
Severus Snape stood with his back turned to her, so she couldn't see. Tears streaked his white cheeks, his chin quivered as Hermione's memories flashed through his mind. As soon as she shut the door to his office, his legs could not long hold the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Four Years Later
Hermione couldn't sleep. Yes, it'd been an incredible day. Voldemort was dead! They did it! Harry, Ron and she got all the Horcruxes, engaged Voldemort in open battle at Hogwart's and even Neville killed the snake Nagini. She had so much to be thankful for, and so much to be excited about. They got their lives back, and now they'd all be living in a time of peace. Hermione even kissed Ron earlier that day, for the first time, and it was about time. She smiled, but still couldn't sleep. Something else was plaguing her, something out of place gnawed at her gut.
Harry is alive, why does that seem so odd?