Thanks to TheFrenchPress for the photo. The rating has been updated to M for themes of implied infertility, miscarriage, and infant death.
That gentle brush against a memory had been too much for him it seemed. Hermione hadn't heard from him since they finished removing his last possessions from the attic three days ago.
It was all right. She had moved here for quiet after all. And quiet she got; she'd seen no sign of a neighbor, no stray cats. She had gone to the grocery store at five in the morning to avoid the rush.
It was slow work unpacking everything alone. She hadn't been able to set up her lab yet. It would require setting wards, checking for magical residue, and adding a barrier spell in order to get her computer safely into the house without it short-circuiting. Without a working lab, she had too much time to think. The quiet she could handle. The stillness she could not.
She placed another log into the wood burning stove, sitting in front of the window as the skies turned that pale shade of blue right before the thick blanket of dusk settled over.
She wrapped herself in a knitted blanket, playing with the edges. The pink fabric soft beneath her fingers, she hummed a lullaby to herself. She traced the embroidered name: Seraphina.
A tear swept down her cheek and she pulled the blanket tighter around her.
She sat there until the sky was dark before forcing her legs to bend as she walked the dark halls towards her bed. The house felt warm and familiar, the scent of Severus still lingering. Herbs and sandalwood, a hint of lemongrass.
She climbed into her large bed, under several heavy blankets to fight the chill of night, and began her nightly ritual. She recited the periodic table in order, and then alphabetically, and then by prevalence in the world. It was just engaging enough to distract her from the images she knew she'd see as soon as she closed her eyes.
She was just starting to fall asleep when she heard a pecking and found a large black raven at her window.