The walk back to the castle grew ever more difficult as Hermione replayed Draco's words in her mind. 'What exactly did he mean? Will I ever see him again?' Her mind became vulnerable as she walked, step after step, and tear after tear. She felt relieved in some ways, yet unresolved in others. The Resurrection Stone was warm in her hands. Her tears were cold on her skin. And then suddenly, she found herself turning back around, and sprinting to the Black Lake, an impulse even she couldn't justify. He told her he loved her. The minute the words flew out of his mouth, an immense joy flooded through her...until the realization of his death struck her like the stone in her small hands.
She stared at the object, tracing the deathly hallows with the pad of her thumb. She gripped it tightly, bringing it to her lips.
"Is it better now?" she asked him.
He glanced at her.
She moved her fingers to the closed wound, feeling his muscles recoil again.
"I'm sorry." She whispered.
He looked at her doubtfully.
Slowly, she pressed her lips to his broken skin. He groaned. "Hermione..."
She stood up again, embarrassedly. "Sorry..."
He stared incredulously at her.
"Do you want me to go?" she started for the door.
Draco pulled her back, gently bringing his own lips to meet hers.
With a great strength even she could not define, Hermione threw the stone as far as she could, almost stumbling into the black waters before her. She watched it intently as it sank, ever so slightly below the surface, and then tears found her once more.
As soon as Hermione set foot into the Gryffindor common room, she expected Ron, Harry, Ginny, and the rest of the lot, to envelope her in hugs and express their concerns for her unedified departure. Yet, the common room only greeted her with silence, the chairs disheveled, a few snacks scattered around on the floor, and only ashes remaining in the fireplace; and its fire had only just been put out.
Perhaps they all went to the banquet...but she couldn't be that late could she? She took a walk on the grounds to clear her head several hours before the banquet would even start. She supposed she simply lost track of time. Too emotionally strained at the moment to get herself ready, and lacking the time to attend the banquet and awards ceremony, she instead headed for the girls dormitories.
The witch sat quietly on one of the beds, her head in her hands, and the tears refusing to come. Obscuring herself with silence, requesting a sole thought of joy to lessen her wounds. Despite her woes, however, she could both hear and feel her stomach growling for attention, and she instinctively reached for her wand to summon a bite from her beaded bag. Her wand...
She didn't leave it in the Forbidden Forest did she? Oh, Merlin...
Without second thought, she leapt out of the bed, and dived for her beaded bag, her arm almost disappearing inside it. Nothing.
'Alright...don't panic...just use wandless magic to summon the wand...'
But, at that exact second, she remembered that she'd placed a summoning counter-spell on almost all of her items that had remained in the bag—including her wand. Therefore...it could be anywhere. She tried not to panic, pacing around the dormitory restlessly. 'Maybe I left it in the forest...but I don't recall dropping it...or even taking my wand with me...'
In a burst of frustration, she kicked what seemed like an empty box underneath one of the beds, it's contains scattering all over the floor, and her toe now aching with pain. Cursing softly to herself, Hermione crouched low, and lifted the bed sheets up, enabling her to drag the box from underneath it.
However, it was apparently not a box after all. It must have been someone's old or lost school trunk, and she was almost positive that it wasn't Ginny or Luna's. It looked almost exactly like the one she used to carry on the train in her first few years of Hogwarts. Brown, with gold and brass hardware, the secret compartments and pockets...Nostalgia seemed to overwhelm her that day, didn't it? She closed the trunk and sat atop it, reaching behind her for the tag, which read clearly in her perfect handwriting, "Property of Hermione Granger". How could it possibly be in the Gryffindor dormitory, then? Perhaps Ginny borrowed her trunk when she returned to school? Then again, Ginny never really had a proper trunk to carry her school things in the past years. Hers had always been holed at the top, and faded and frayed on the inside. She couldn't blame her friend for borrowing something she never had a need for.
Hermione opened the trunk cautiously, feeling a bit apprehensive at looking through her friend's items, yet assuring herself that she only wanted to make sure that none of her own things were left in the trunk on accident, most likely in one of the secret compartments.
And thus, that was exactly where she searched, and unknown excitement overcoming her, her hands digging furiously through small piles of undergarments and books, revealing the bottom of the trunk. Revealing one of her favorite spots to hide things, including a diary she used to keep in her first years at Hogwarts. She flushed at the memory, undoing the black flap of the bottom. Her fingers searched aimlessly for quite a while, until she discovered a locket-like object wedged between the actual bottom of the trunk, and another closure of the compartment. 'Maybe an old necklace someone gave me...?'
And suddenly, she heard footsteps nearing the dormitory door, and a voice growing louder and louder. Without looking, Hermione stuffed the locket into one of her jean pockets, closed the trunk, slid it underneath the bed, and stood, her breaths coming in short, quick pants.
"Hermione?! Where the hell have you been?! Everyone else is at the banquet, and I'm missing it to look for you, and then, all of a sudden, here you are-"
"Hello, Ginny..." she leaned against a bed post awkwardly. One of her hands absentmindedly dove back into her pocket, adjusting the chain so it wouldn't rub painfully against her thigh.
And as her friend ran to take her into a bone-crushing hug, Hermione couldn't help but think about Draco's words, and whether she should be honest with Ginny.
Lost things can always be found at Hogwarts...
Author's Note-I feel like I always write the most idiotic author's notes late at night. Well, it's technically 12:28 in the morning...but you get my point. I'm sorry, if I kept you waiting on this chapter; I've discovered that's it's a bit more difficult than I thought, writing two stories at once. But, anyways, enough of my complaining. What did you think of this chapter? As I read it, I thought it sounded sort of kryptic or rather...choppy, I suppose. In a way, I meant to do that on purpose, for this particular chapter, but if it's annoying you, please do say so, as well as any other bits and pieces of feedback that you're willing to offer. As if you didn't know, I really appreciate it, and thank you again, for supporting my story and making my whole experience on fanfiction, well...fun. Enjoyable. Mental. Thought-provoking. Bloody fantastic. I bet if you were a food, you'd be a donut. Yes, a donut. You're welcome.