Hermione Granger is going back to school after the Second Wizarding War. Some things have changed, but others will never be the same.
It was the middle of summer when I made my decision. I was going to go back to Hogwarts. I didn't care that we could just "get a job" as the boys so poetically put it. I wanted to finish school and finish it right. It'd caused a giant fight between Ron and me though. He'd insisted that I was insane and prodded at me to not go back and instead stay with him. I refused to do that. I wasn't just going to settle into a life at his side like that. I had to find my own way, one way or the other. I was prepared to write, but Ron was angry. In the end, our relationship was over. It was that simple. Maybe not for good - heaven only knows what the future will bring - but for now I was going to go to school.. for me not anyone else. I think that's what's best for now.
I owled the school and Headmistress - it was still hard to think of Professor McGonagall - McGonagall replied rather quickly. She'd love to have me back and enclosed the list of books I'd need for my seventh year courses as originally planned. Another thing.. she surprised me by asking me if I would mind taking over the position of Head Girl. "I know this isn't particularly protocol, but I'd like to ask if you'd be Head Girl this year. I really believe you're fit for the job, and you didn't get the chance to do it when it was technically your time... owl me back if it's not alright and I'll make the necessary arrangements. Either way, looking forward to seeing you soon, Miss Granger."
The day before school started I was just finishing up on packing when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. It struck me just how different I looked than the last time I crested the halls of Hogwarts - as a student, not a warrior because then I was long changed by the search and destroy mission we'd lived. My eyes, still the same dark brown, were no longer soft. Instead they were harder, a double edged sword, watching and waiting for a hidden enemy to be revealed. There was a certain set to my mouth that suggested I'd watched my friends at the hands of death, and even drawn a few out, but still lost many. The youthful glow to my skin was dulled to a less radiant tone, but none the less beautiful.. merely no longer peppered with childlike glee.
Yet there was one feature about my person still keenly the same. My hair was a mane of dark caramel curls - while more manageable than it was first year, my hair was still just as thick and wild as it once was. The kinks set against my head whispered past youth, but didn't dare match the rest of my face. The two didn't match in the slightest and I slipped my fingers around, grasping the long locks in my fingers and twisting them half up to elude a shorter style. With a soft exhale, I nodded to myself. It was time I cut it off.
So, I took to the streets, veering toward the Muggle salon where I'd always cut my hair (just a routine snip snip and we were done). The now gray haired old lady behind the counter grinned from ear to ear when she saw me. "Hermione!" She hurried around the counter, catching a magazine on her hip and sending it barreling toward the ground with a spat.
Before she could even fret over it, I was handing it to her. "Mrs. Bennett." I offered in response and she grinned, pulling me in to a hug.
"It's been too long, Miss Granger." She half scolded, ushering me to the available cutting station. "You want the usual?" She asked, knowing my haircut like the back of her hand.
As she gathered her supplies, I regarded myself again before shaking my head. "Not this time, Mrs. Bennett." That caught her attention and she looked up, watching as I gestured to the length I wanted, just above my shoulders.
It wasn't any time at all until she was cutting. Her wicked scissors moved like extensions of her hands, fast as the speed of light but with perfect precision. I never once doubted her skills as she pulled my hair down to create the perfect bangs. The idea was a radical change and as she finished, I could see how perfectly the cut now matched my features as my earlier vision.
Hermione Granger, revised. Hermione Granger, 2.0. Hermione Granger has grown up and this is the result. She's seen hardship and heartache and death and battled death herself and this is her. This is the way she saw the world. I rationalized to myself and maybe I was right. I know it would all be alright. Somehow I know that. This next year would be a good thing. Of that I am certain.