Hermione glanced up at the castle before her. A place she had grown to call home over the years, the place that had also became a war zone just a matter of months before. Sorrow and joy filled her. Happiness at the thoughts of the wonderful lessons and masses of books that she had widdled through over the years and the thoughts of teachers who she had respected who now saw her as more of an equal than a student. The faces of her friends and visions of how they used to sit under the trees laughing and Fred and George scrapping. Fred… As quickly as the small smile played on her lips it disappeared. The familiar pang of sadness pricked at her chest, almost a physical pain, as she remembered all the lives that had been lost just a handful of months ago.
It had been a whirlwind past few years as Harry, Ron and herself had searched for and hunted down horcruxes all over the country. The physical and emotional strain had taken its toll on all of them. Hermione still wasn't the weight she had been before the ordeal and still woke to Ron and Harry's worried faces as she thrashed and screamed at the memory of Bellatrix's face. Her black manic eyes, flecks of spit escaping from her mouth as she bellowed the words she was about to carve into her arm. "MUDBLOOD!"
Hermione's hand instinctively went to cover the scar on her arm. They had offered several anecdotes whilst they had their check overs at St Mungo's however she had refused. She was somewhat determined to remember what this war had been and the person it had made her. She could never pretend that it hadn't happened and deep down she didn't want too. She would keep it as a reminder and to signify she was proud of her parentage.
Ron was still struggling to come to terms with everything. The loss of his brother and the sight of Lavender Brown being devoured by Fenrir Greyback scorched into his brain and refusing to leave, even when he was asleep. It had eventually come between them as he couldn't handle the guilt, thinking if he hadn't have broken up with Lavender she would have still been alive. Hermione had tried to tell him that he shouldn't blame himself but of course the words couldn't help him. He was having therapy sessions… they all were. Hermione didn't have much faith in them and had decided to come away from them hoping to find more answers on how to deal with trauma and grief in books. Eventually she had settled in coming back to Hogwarts. Whilst they were all offered jobs straight into the ministry in the Auror department, Hermione believed it was a cardinal sin to not finish her final year and receive her 'official' qualifications. Although she had tried to persuade them however, Harry and Ron had both agreed that they wouldn't be returning. Harry had tried to help restore the castle with other survivors but came away a different person. Although he had tried to put on a brave face, Hermione had held him as he sobbed and they clung to each other desperate for some form of normality to only conclude that this for them was 'normal.'
Ron and Harry were both preparing to start their Auror training programme in a few days and Hermione had discussed with Professor McGonagall about returning a couple of weeks before term started to familiarise herself, along with a handful of others from her year, with the castle and help with any last refurbishments. They had had a tearful goodbye, each promised to write to one another. Harry had left herself and Ron to have a particularly tearful moment as they held each other until it was time to go. It was a daunting prospect coming back without them and as she stood looking at the grand doors in front of her, feeling more alone then she had in the past 7 years, she had no idea what the year was going to hold for her.