I'm floating, Hermione thought. In a waiting room at St. Mungo's, she drifted in and out of consciousness. The kind of haze that allowed for images to flash by and crumple with the slightest of movements. In her daze, she rubbed her hands over the roughness of the cushioned chair. She blinked. Dragon hide?

No. It only felt like the skin of a beast. She squeezed her eyes shut. Was it really almost a year now? When she had flown over England on the bare scales of the kind of animal she had only ever read about in books.

No, she thought again. That's not right, I carried Norbert in my first year. The stuttering croon of a baby dragon. The humiliation of letting her house down. My house, she wanted to laugh. Now, she walked past the hourglasses that counted the house points without a second glance. She did not know that she could outgrow a castle as large as Hogwarts until this year. Before, she had been a child. It was hard to imagine that part of her past. It was another time. Another lifetime.

Her arms felt as heavy as boulders.

Weightlessness. What did Hermione know of it?

"Hermione," a familiar voice said.

"Mmmph," she muttered. She squinted up. The gold eye of the dragon was gone. A glint of emerald glass. Green.

"Ron's stable," Harry said. He removed his eyeglasses and sat next to her.

Hermione jolted. "Is he awake? Can we see him?"

"No. And, no. Only family."

"Bullshit," she spat. A healer with a clipboard gave Hermione a scalding glance. "We're his family too!"

Harry scratched at the bandage around his head. "They wouldn't be able to fit us in there anyway. Too many people. And I think our lack of red hair would give us away," he sighed. She slumped forward in her chair.

"Hermione Granger?" came a voice from behind Hermione. She turned around, looking up at the tall, domineering figure she recognized from the Prophet.

"Pleasure to meet you. Elena Doge, head of the Auror division," the woman extended her hand, and now Hermione recognized the tiny electric blue A embroidered on the lapel of her robes. Harry straightened, standing at once, wincing as he did, pressing his fingers against the bandage on his head. "Ow," he said. "Doge, what are you doing here?"

"Ministry matters," she said. "Would I be able to have a word?"

"Yes—" he said.

"Mr. Potter, I'm speaking to Granger here. I have a few questions about today," she said, taking a seat across from her.

"Oh," Hermione said.

"My apologies for taking up your time today, I know this is the last thing you want to do," she sighed. "Is the Weasley family near?"

"Yes, they're with Ron."

"Please extend my well wishes to them all," she said, her expression grave. "I want you to know that everything you say to me will stay within this investigation. I only request your candor. Do you mind explaining how you came to be in the Great Hall today?"

Hermione shifted in her seat. "I came from upstairs."

"Why weren't you with everyone in the Great Hall already?"

"I was taking my exams early. They happened to coincide with the memorial feast."

"Were you alone?"

"No, I was with three other people. The proctor, an Auror, and, er, another student."

Doge looked very grim indeed. "Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes," she said.

"Anything suspicious with Mr. Malfoy's actions? Do you remember anything peculiar?"

"Honestly, no," Hermione said, surprised the words were even coming out of her own mouth. "We heard the commotion and he was as surprised as I was. We checked on the proctor and—and his Auror," Hermione said, closing her eyes as she remembered the blank expressions on both of their faces.

"Did he do anything out of the ordinary while taking the exam?"

"No."

"Really? Draco Malfoy was found with a wand on him despite the fact that you were both doing the wandless portions of your N.E.W.T.s."

"I gave that to him," she said, surprised. "I got our wands from the proctor."

Doge didn't say anything for a while. "Alright," she said, standing. "I should be going. This investigation will likely take some time. The Ministry will be in touch," she said, opening the door.

Harry shook Doge's hand. "Yes, see you at the office, Potter," Doge said. "Hopefully that doesn't leave a mark," she gestured to his bandage.

When Doge left, Hermione looked sharply at Harry. "Harry, is Doge related to Elphias?"

Harry nodded. "They're twins. She's my boss, I suppose. Only started speaking to me once I mastered my disguise charms, nevermind killing Tom Riddle," he shook his head. "What did she ask?"

"About Malfoy."

"But you weren't near the Great Hall, were you?"

"No, I mean Draco."

Harry frowned. "Draco?"

"He was taking exams with me. Separate from the other students. I don't know the details. McGonagall just showed up that morning to tell me I'd be in the same room as him. And then she gave me a little lecture on how I was to uphold the Gryffindor house and not make a fuss about it," she wrinkled her nose.

A look of alarm passed over Harry's face. "That's—that changes everything, doesn't it? Malfoy's the one who got all those Death Eaters into Hogwarts two years ago."

"You're right," Hermione nodded. "But he didn't seem like he was...scheming. He seemed like he was..." she struggled to find the words. "I don't know. Normal. He was as surprised as I was. I had to tell him what to do."

"Did he say anything to you?" Harry asked. "If he said anything about you being a muggleborn I'll go to the Ministry myself and remind him that Tom Riddle's dead in the ground—"

"He tried to make conversation, actually. But I didn't humor him."

"Well, good," Harry said defensively.

"I may have gotten a little shirty with him," she thought of how she had called herself a mudblood. "Anyhow, he didn't bother me after that."

"I shouldn't say this, but—" he threw a sidelong glance at the doorway, which was empty. "Even though Tom Riddle is dead, there are still plenty of wizards and witches who still agree with his cause. Whether or not Lucius was working with them…this attack could reinvigorate them," he said grimly. "Maybe even lead to copycats. But I know they'll get to the bottom of it."

She sighed. "Nevermind Malfoy. I was—I was just outside the Great Hall," she said. "I ran inside. I saw Ron on the floor. I thought—I thought that—"

"Don't think about that. It'll be alright."

She hadn't spoken to anyone else yet, only rushed after Ron as the healers came to take him to St. Mungo's. A few other students were wounded. Professors herded the rest out of the hall while the Aurors swarmed. "Did you see what kind of spell hit him?" Hermione asked.

"No," Harry said. "A lot was happening at once. They weren't sure what it was. At first a few people thought it was part of the ceremony."

"I can't believe I wasn't there."

"Don't do that. It was mad. You think if you were there you would have been able to fix it?"

She wiped quickly at her face. "I had a fight with him recently," Hermione said quietly to her hands.

"Where are you going tonight?" Harry said gently.

"No visitors after eight," she said. "I suppose I'll try Flooing back to Hogwarts."

"Why don't you come stay the night at mine? It's closer," he said.

Hermione nodded. "Alright," she said.


Grimmauld Place was simply out in the open now, no longer magicked away into hiding. She saw a woman take out the trash at the end of the block. A man came out of 10 Grimmauld Place and lit a cigarette, a dog on a leash accompanying him.

"Evening," Harry nodded at the man, who nodded back. The terrier at his neighbor's feet wagged its tail. As the man receded into view, Harry turned back to mutter at Hermione, "Had to do a bit of a memory spell on that one after he saw me watering the roses out front with my wand one night. But it's fine," he added hastily upon seeing Hermione's look of horror.

Out of sight, Harry slipped his wand out from under his sleeve and unlocked the front door.

Grimmauld Place no longer looked like the dark, abandoned hovel she had once known. The musty smell was all gone, and Harry had replaced most of the furniture. And after several months and a rather dangerous and unsuccessful Unsticking Charm, he had hired a muggle contractor to knock out the wall on which Walburga Black's portrait hung. It had come down at long last, all while screaming bloody murder. Harry had explained this anomaly away by saying the portrait was a defective television screen.

Harry gestured up the staircase. "You can stay in the master. I sleep in Sirius's old bedroom."

Hermione looked up the stairs and felt her body grow heavy. "Do you have anything to drink, actually?"

At the kitchen table, Hermione lowered herself onto the chair nearest to the door, her bags falling to the floor with a thump. It was late now, but there was no chance of her falling asleep. There were still so many things to do. She had to write to the Ministry first thing in the morning to ask about the rest of her exams. She would need to write to McGonagall too. She had been planning to leave Hogwarts quietly after her N.E.W.T.s, but she imagined that it would be impossible to finish the tests now.

The kitchen had new lacquered countertops and last summer Harry had sheepishly admitted to her that he had consulted with a muggle interior designer, but he hadn't needed much help. Much to everyone's surprise, he had a knack for decorating. The sitting room had changed the most, with bright blue curtains, a new paint job, and rich oak floors. The row of mounted house elf heads in the hall was replaced by elaborate paintings Luna had made. All of them were images of rare magical creatures that she insisted she had seen with her own two eyes.

Harry was still wearing his dress robes. He shouldered off his cloak and placed his wand on the table, rolling it against the wood with one hand. It sputtered a few yellow sparks and he stopped, his posture hunching forward. "Accio firewhiskey," a hollow clunk of glass against wood, then a bottle of amber liquid floated out from a shelf. He offered it to Hermione. She twisted the cap open and took a searing sip. "Merlin. I don't have many chances to drink at Hogwarts," she coughed.

"I found this bottle in Sirius's room under the floorboards, so it's probably older than we are," he said, giving her a wry grin.

Normally, a stack of dirty dishes in the sink and a disorganized pile of opened letters on the window ledge would bother her clean sensibilities, but here, it gave Grimmauld Place a human touch. It was no longer a hiding spot or a headquarters, though there were traces of that in the half-empty boxes left behind by various Order members that she, Harry, and Ron had attempted to sort through last summer but hadn't ever completed. They had thrown away what they could (maps detailing the paths of giants in Russia, yellowed files on now dead Death Eaters, scribbles in what looked like Dumbledore's own hand of a sweet-laden grocery list) and didn't know what to do with the rest (a banged-up flask with Moody's initials on it and a Quidditch trophy from twenty years ago).

Otherwise, it was a rather large, quiet house, one that her friend happened to live in. She was envious, imagining Harry walking through the muggle streets, able to pass in and out of the wizarding world as he pleased.

"Do you like London? I never asked you."

"I do," he said quietly. "I've never lived on my own before. There's so much space."

She sighed. "It seems so normal."

"I'm hardly ever here."

It was true that Harry looked like he could use some rest. He needed a shave, his glasses were foggy with fingerprints, and his hair slightly was longer than usual, unruly as ever. He even looked as though he had grown another inch. "It's a lot of work," he paused. "Er, Ron must have told you about his plans. Has he told you—"

She nodded. "We fought about it," she said. "Not about how he wants to leave," she added quickly. "He wanted to live together and I said no," she said, realizing how awful she sounded now. "I haven't spoken to him since."

Harry took a swig of the firewhiskey. "I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it."

"H-he was a-angry with me," she said, wiping at her eyes. "I disappointed him. I'm sure he thought—he thought, maybe, that it meant that I didn't love him as much as he loves me."

Harry put his hand on hers, and they sat like that for a while, not saying anything.

A grey owl tapped on the window, its wings wet with rain.

Hermione sighed, walking over to open the window while wiping at her face. She let the owl in, taking the envelope from its beak. The paper was gray with a dark Ministry seal. She turned it over.

Hermione Granger

#12 Grimmauld Place, the kitchen

London

"It's for me," she said, putting a finger under the seal and ripping open the letter.

Dear Ms. Granger,

You have been summoned for the trial of Lucius Malfoy (Number 29345851). Your witness testimony and memories are required. Please await instructions for scheduling. If you do not appear, you will be charged with contempt for the court.

Best Regards,

Elena Doge

She folded the letter up again. This was the second letter from the Ministry in only a few weeks, she realized. What different circumstances she was receiving them in.

"What is it?" Harry said.

She closed her eyes and rubbed at her temples. "I'm being summoned for witness testimony. Fuck."

"Well, alright," Harry said. "That's standard, isn't it?"

"Yes, but I don't think I can help with the trial anymore if I'm a key witness," she sighed. "There's no way they'll let me sit in on the entire thing. They wouldn't want my testimony to be influenced by anything."

"How can you be sure?" he said, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm sure the Malfoys have hired an expensive defense team. I've been reading about wizarding law, and they're perfectly allowed to keep me out of the courtroom. Maybe I can ask Kingsley..." Hermione trailed off.

"Maybe," he replied unsteadily. There was nothing more to say. She drained the remains of her drink and stood.

"I suppose I'll go to bed."

As she rose, she saw the corner of an old Prophet on the table. Her face blinked back at her, Harry and Ron on either side, a photo taken from the day after the war. She stood, eyes darting, in the Great Hall in nearly the same spot she had been that day. She wished she could climb into it and stay forever, get stuck in it like a bug in gold amber.