A/N: Title for this chapter is owed to Bright Eyes and their song I Believe in Symmetry. Most chapter titles will be inspired by this band.

000

Chapter Two: I Believe in Symmetry

The days were all the same. When she opened her window to let the owl fly in with her morning paper, the breeze moved through her hair and the sunlight glared, sharp into her eyes. And the next morning when she opened her window to get the paper, the breeze moved through her hair and the sunlight glared into her eyes. And the morning after that the breeze moved through her hair and the sunlight glared into her eyes.

It made her wonder if they had always been the same before… if everything would always be the same. And she didn't really want to read through the paper each day but it was a part of the routine and the routine must be strictly followed. She read it thoroughly and upon finishing, folded it up neatly and placed it on the bottom shelf of her living room bookcase with the rest.

It made her smile wryly to think about how complicated she thought life used to be before. Before it was all so simple, the routine was easy to follow because you didn't really know it was a routine and you believed you were living. When S.P.E.W. was a noble and unpopular cause, when OWL exams would determine the future, when boys hurting your feelings were worth crying about, when destroying horcruxes would save the world, and killing Voldemort would make everything better. It had all been so simple. And the routine was what Hermione Granger knew how to abide by best.

So she created a new one. Get up, use the loo, eat breakfast, read the paper, put up the paper, brush teeth, dress in clean robes, clean up, make coffee, floo to work, change close sign to open, update book order form, re-shelve, help customers, avoid discussing Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, smile politely, check out customers, re-shelve, eat lunch, use the loo, help customers, avoid discussing Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, smile politely, check out customers, change open sign to close, re-shelve, lock-up, floo home, shower, change clothes, make dinner, read a novel, clean up, use the loo, brush teeth, slide in bed, stare at ceiling, avoid thinking about the war, avoid thinking about her parents, avoid thinking about before, stare at the ceiling, drift off to sleep. Repeat.

She used to think the routine would make everything better, but know she knew that at the very least it would help her pretend everything was better.

Sometimes she cheated. Sometimes when it hurt so bad she forgot how to breathe again, she would sit in her favorite armchair in the living room with the lights off. She would not move to eat and she would not floo to work. She would sit and stare into the darkness in front of her and embrace the deep ache that pumped wildly in her heart, through her blood, in her bones. She would think this is what it is to live. This pain is what life is.

She remembers herself as foolish and naïve. The shadows in the room begin to stretch towards her and she shrinks back into the chair. They call out to her, blaming her, and I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please she asks and they turn from her, the robed and the un-robed figures, their backs to her, shunning.

She hangs her head, ashamed and overwhelmed. This is what it is to live.

III

Draco Malfoy scowled as he checked his watch for the third time. Pansy Parkinson rolled her eyes.

"Bloody sign says nine o' clock. It's eleven thirty for Great Merlin's sake! Where the blasted is that ruddy witch? I don't have all day, you know."

"Bitching and moaning like always, Draco. Nice to see some things never change." Pansy said and took a drag from her cigarette.

Draco glared at her. "Oh, fuck off. Some things shouldn't change. Like keeping to a set schedule. Since when has Granger ever been late for anything anyway?" He drummed his fingers against the table he and Pansy shared in the small café across from Flourish & Blotts and stared fixedly out the window waiting for any sign of life to appear in the dark little bookstore.

"You see the Prophet yesterday?" Pansy asked, blowing out a puff of smoke. "New story is Granger's turned into a little minx and strips at the nightclub downtown."

Draco said nothing. It didn't faze him. Reporters for The Daily Prophet had been out for revenge ever since Granger told them all to go screw themselves. Last week Potter had developed a secret romance with a Horn-tailed dragon and Weasley was gay. Not that he'd doubt that last claim. There had always been something a little off about the Weasel.

"Of course, it's all bollocks. Little Miss Priss would never sink so low. Still, Blaise ran down there last night to check it out. Said there was nothing but some dolled up brunette with the biggest knockers he'd ever seen. Now THAT would've been my first clue. Granger always had the smallest tits at Hogwarts."

"Ugh, can you please refrain from talking about Granger's tits. It's highly disturbing." Draco broke in with a noise of disgust.

"Gods, let's just call it a day. She's not gonna show. We'll just come again tomorrow."

"No, damn it. We need Granger to sign this fucking paper. We need her for this job. Ah! There she is."

Pansy looked over her shoulder and sure enough, the lights in the little shop were on and the sign now read 'Open.'

"Let's go." Draco threw some change on the table and stood and made to walk out of the café.

"Are you sure she'll agree to this?"

Draco scoffed.

"Of course she will. It's Granger."

"Just don't act like a stupid prat, Draco. I'm sure she still has a vehement hatred for your ferret ass. It's best to play nice."

"You bitch. Don't ever call me that again. I'll throttle you."

000

The golden rays baked her skin as she ran with her arms out at her sides, down one side of the beach and back to the other.

"Daddy, look! I'm flying!" and she zoomed past him, kicking up sand as she went.

She could feel the grains between her toes when she stopped and turned to the ocean. The cool water lapped at her feet, swimming around her ankles and then retreating. And then back hesitantly to taste her again. She'd never seen something so big and so blue and so beautiful. She wondered idly if it would swallow her whole if she dared move an inch closer.

"Hermione?" She heard her mother call. But her voice was distant. The sky grew dark and she jumped, looking up at the crash of thunder. When she forced her eyes back down, fear crept into her heart. A great dark wave was rising up, pushing closer to the shore. She turned to run back but stopped, glancing around in a blind panic. They were gone. They were gone! Thousands of people filled the beach and they were all screaming and running, stumbling into her and bowling her over. Frantically she stood and began to desperately search for her parents as the shadow of the wave encompassed her. A terrifying realization stilled her feet.

She couldn't remember their faces.

Hermione opened the first box with a flick of her wand and scanned the form she held in her hand for the book on top.

She'd overslept. This happened from time to time. The dreams. She'd recently run out of her supply of Dreamless Sleep Drought and hadn't the time to pick any more up. Her hands shook as she pulled a few more texts out of the box and spelled them to their spots on the shelves.

Hermione vaguely registered the tinkering of the bell as the door opened and closed. How could she have been so careless? She couldn't afford to let them haunt her in her sleep. While she was awake was bad enough. It would ruin everything. Her routine would collapse. She could not let it collapse. She needed it.

"Granger." Her head snapped up and her dark eyes met with a vibrant blue. For confirmation she took in his brilliant blond head. She tightened her lips in an attempt to pull a polite smile but failed and settled for a bland stare.

"Malfoy." Her eyes drifted over to witch at his side. Short black hair like she remembered.

"Pansy." She gave a curt nod in return.

Swallowing thickly, she scanned her brain for the necessary course of action. She couldn't handle them being here for very long. They looked just like did from Before but slightly older.

Malfoy stood looking regal in a dark grey suit, tall and broad-shouldered, his trademark hair trimmed neatly and swept carefully to the side. Parkinson stood only a few inches shorter, her pitch black hair drastically short in a pixie cut, and her dark red lips pursed. Hermione could make out the stale odor of smoke swirl around them.

"Can I be of any help to you?" Hermione questioned in the polite, inquiring tone she usually used with customers.

Draco Malfoy quirked an eyebrow. Interesting.

"It's noon, Granger. Take your lunch break. I'd like to discuss some business and you've kept me waiting long enough."

Hermione Granger scowled. A sudden appearance from Pansy, she could handle. But Draco Malfoy was simply out of the question. There was no way in hell she'd alter her routine for that spineless bastard.

Nevertheless, a good ten-minute argument later, a grim Hermione found herself with a cup of tea in her hands, staring dully across a table at Malfoy and Parkinson. She blamed it on her lack of regular contact with people. Her brain was too rusty to put up a proper defense.

Damn him.

000