Hermione let her head drop into her hands, suddenly taken by a debilitating exhaustion. All the names, places-things she'd left far in her past now threatened to overwhelm her as she tried earnestly to get up to speed.

"You've been appointed Minister of Magic, Kingsley," she said, glancing at the dark skinned man imploringly, "after Scrimegeour...he...what happened to him again?"

"He was captured soon after your-err-death," Kingsley said uncertainly. "He was tortured. Now, I never liked the man myself but you couldn't deny his loyality at the end. He died for it."

Hermione nodded. "Okay, that I've got. And Mad-Eye?"

Remus smirked. "Still as mad as ever."

Hermione glanced between he and Tonks, who sat beside him, and smiled. "And what've the two of you been up to?"

Tonks broke into an elated smile and surreptitiously slipped her hand into Remus's grasp. "We've a one-year-old son now, we can't wait for you to meet him."

"If we've gone through the niceties," Snape drawled, sending an exaggerated eyeroll toward the werewolf, "I think it's high time we got to the root of Miss-Hermione's return.". He caught himself, remembering her preferred name.

Hermione mimicked his eyeroll but was secretly grateful for the return of his snarky tone. Too many things were different and she was getting rather overwhelmed.

He continued as though he hadn't seen her gesture. "Potter's predicament is precarious, at best," he said plainly.

McGonagall fixed him with a glare that rivaled his own before turning her attention back onto her favorite student. "A possession of this magnitude is somethingwee have never seen," she said gently. "We've seen momentary lapses, brief things, but we've never seen a presence take hold for so long."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "What's he like?" she asked. "Does he even recognize the lot of you?"

"Some days deliver more clarity than others, "Remus interjected. "His mind tends to volley between You-Know-Who's and his own. When he leans more to one side, he can recognize us. But there's a gray area in between that is truly frightening."

"In that gray area," Snaps continued for him, "Potter's mind is tugged in two separate but equally powerful directions. When he's in that blend, he is decidedly volatile, but so far it has only been dangerous to his own person."

Hermione nodded, but her chest tightened uncomfortably. Poor Harry.

McGonagall stood abruptly, tugging Hermione up by her elbow. "I daresay we have put Miss Granger through enough for one afternoon," she said with an air of finality. "We'll get a meal in you as it appeaus you haven't eaten properly in several weeks, and then you're in for a goodnight sleep.". She gave the Headmaster a ferocious glare as if daring him to disagree with her, but the man merely nodded.

"I think we could all do with a bite," Dumbledore relented. It left no room for argument and the Potions professor snarled, but followed suit.

Walking the halls was a blast from the past that had Hermione shaking by the time they reached the Great Hall. She could pinpoint precise spots from her past that held immensely potent memories for Harry, Ron, and her and though it was disconcerting, she decided it was also important. She made a mental note to venture these halls with Violet in tow someday soon.

She was grateful that the Great Hall's enchanted ceiling was glazed with a wonderful dusting of stars. It was calming and immediately soothed her fraying nerves.

Her eyes quickly followed the nearly deafening laughter coming from the Gryffindor House table which Hermione noted looked completely unchanged. Fred and George were in the middle of enchanting several bread rolls to dance all around Violet, who could not contain her hilarity.

Hermione quickly felt a warmth spreading through her chest which wasn't a frequent occurrence as of late. Magic had always been a source of such fear for her daughter; it was remarkable to see her now, garnering such enjoyment from it.

When the little one caught sight of her mother, her face split into a silent grin and she closed the distance between them with several leaping bounds. She pulled Hermione's hand to the seat she'd just abandoned, pointing elatedly at the carrots that were doing swan dives in goblets of pumpkin juice. Hermione laughed, and nodded, immediately grateful to Fred and George for having inspired such joy in the girl.

Violet glanced back at the group she'd just abandoned and seemed to consider them for a moment. Seeming to come to a decision, she galloped over to them and immediately slipped her hands through the arms of arms of the Gryffindor Head of House and her father. The former smiled delightedly at the girl and followed her eagerly but the latter froze, bewildered by the voluntary physical contact. Violet paused, sensing his hesitation and glanced up at him, wondering if she'd done something wrong.

Seeing very clearly the uncertainty in her eyes and not liking that he caused it, he plastered an immensely rare smile on his face and allowed himself to be led to the seat directly beside the girl's mother. He nodded when she pointed out the festivities to him, as well.

Hermione gaped at the man with wide eyes, instantly astounded that he'd allowed his actions to be dictated by a four-year-old, daughter or not. She couldn't help the stupid grin on her face if there'd been a wand at her head, and neither notice the curious exchange between Dumbledore and the Deputy Headmistress.