Being lost in your own hometown is a lot different than the kind of lost you feel when in a place you've never been before.

There's a sense of comfort that keeps you stable when lost in your own hometown because there's the certainty that if you keep driving, you'll eventually end up in a place that is familiar and safe. While in a place you've never been before, being lost feels suffocating and panic takes over because there's no familiar or known destination.

Hermione knew there would come a time her life without Ron would return to normal. Though she was still repairing the internal injuries that came with heartbreak, she was aware that she would return to a comfortable and stable life afterwards.

However, with Malfoy, it was a challenge. She couldn't read him like she had with many other people before; his body language and face expressions changed constantly. He would sound annoyed with her, but then engage in intellectually challenging conversations with her. He would ignore her all day, then enjoy making fun of her for being hungover. He would almost kiss her, and then act as he did when she visited him at St. Mungo's. He was on either end of the spectrum; never in between. These were the twists and turns of Draco Malfoy that Hermione couldn't map and it just became that much more intriguing to her.

It wasn't that she was hurt over the way he'd acted, no. Surprised, definitely, but not hurt. She understood his behaviour. She understood why he was so closed off and distanced himself from anyone who could possibly hurt him. She deducted it was a defence mechanism that he'd built during his time serving as a Death Eater. Hermione herself had built defence mechanisms after the War as well; diving head first into books to escape reality and holding onto a dead-end relationship being some of them.

Breaking down Malfoy's walls again became something she prioritized, something she was determined to do whether he wanted her to or not. She knew there was an entirely different person underneath the broken mask of the former Death Eater, she could feel it with everything she was.

It was a Monday once again, the Ministry was vibrating with the mumbles and whispers of the employees.

The Law she'd been preparing for two years was almost complete and ready to present, and she couldn't be more proud of herself. Out of winning the War, fighting Dragons, Trolls, Death Eaters, and Voldemort himself, building this Law is what she is most proud of.

She looked at her stacks of notes and organized them into files, a giddiness filling her. Two years of hard work, determination, and dedication is what got her here, where she's dreamt of being. While it's not nearly as big as setting all Elves free, this was definitely a step in the right direction. More independence for Elves is all she wished to come out of this.

While it seemed like the entire universe was against her, she felt nothing but pride. This was the best she'd felt in weeks, no longer drowning in sorrow or guilt. She strutted through the halls of the Ministry toward Kingsley's office with her head held high.

Knocking thrice, she waited until Kingsley invited her in. The door opened and yet another Slytherin walked through. The dark-haired witch scoffed at the sight of Hermione.

"Ms. Greengrass." She addressed her rather professionally without any disgust, as she was surprised to see Astoria Greengrass at all in the Ministry of Magic on a Monday afternoon.

Hermione watched her strut off toward the floo's before she focused back on Kingsley. "Sir," confused and flabbergasted about who she had just faced, she continued, "I was coming to talk about a court date for my new law proposition."

He nodded as he offered her a chair before his desk. "I thought you would be coming to me soon. You've seemed to make great progress by your lonesome, I'm very impressed. Though, you are the brightest witch of your age, so I'm not too surprised."

She always blushed when people called her that as they complimented her work, always grew flustered and speechless.

"Yes, well it is something I'm rather passionate about. The work only increased my interest more."

"I will talk to those at Wizengamot and our lawyers here, I'll follow up with you when I hear a response." Kingsley smiled at her and she nodded before she rose from the chair.

Stopping at the door, she turned back, "Thank you, Kingsley. For allowing me to do this. I don't know what I would've done these past two without the S.P.E.W."

He nodded knowingly, "It was our pleasure, Hermione. You've turned it into something we always believed you could and more."

On her way back to her office, she noticed a head full of red hair within the crowd.

When she turned around after talking to Taura, her face grew into a sympathetic look, "Hermione, love."

She cringed when people sung that sentence with an empathetic ring now, 'Hermione, love.' As if she were a broken and distraught person that wasn't able to heal.

"Ginny, what are doing here?" There were too many surprises occurring today.

"I came to pick you up for the rest of the day. Taura here said it was alright."

"But," she looked at Taura with a confused look, she'd only been back for a full week, she couldn't take a day off. Taura only shrugged and smiled.

"But I've only been back a short time." She looked back at Ginny.

"Oh, Hermione," Ginny rolled her eyes as she linked her arm, "You often forget who you are."

Ginny dragged her out of the Ministry and flooded them to Hermione's place. Hermione didn't fight but she was confused and reluctant.

"You're a proper pig." Ginny exclaimed while Hermione stood embarrassed, she wasn't expecting guests on a Monday evening.

Pairs of pants and jumpers scattered across the floor and over her furniture, with dishes she'd forgotten to wash from a couple days ago filled her place.

"I... wasn't expecting anyone." She attempted to justify her mess.

"Let's have a sleepover upstairs." Ginny still stared at the mess that was the first floor. She pointed to the cupboards, "Grab some snacks and beverages and we'll have ourselves a nice girls night, yeah? Also, grab some firewhisky." Ginny left and made her way up the stairs, hoping that her bedroom wasn't as bad as the first level of Hermione's home.

Hermione did what she was asked and followed Ginny. She was sort of nervous about why Ginny was doing all of this, why she took her out of the Ministry and made her take a day off. At the same time, she was happy to see her friend. The Hollyhead Harpies must have given her the week off if she asked for firewhisky at the early hours of 11 in the morning.

Ginny asked about Ron, about Malfoy, about the letters and Hermione confided in her. She didn't hold back and told the ginger witch everything she felt. Everything she felt and everything she didn't know she felt.

They fell asleep cuddled beside each other, as best friends do, at the mere hour of 7 in the evening due to the considerable amount of firewhisky they'd both consumed.

•••

The following day, the street looked empty and normal, nothing out of the ordinary. The attached houses in the south London neighbourhood were quaint with some chatter of children and the background noise of the loud televisions filling his ears. Harry and the other two Aurors that the Ministry had sent with him walked forward, investigating.

"Potter, don't you think we should invade these houses here?" One asked.

Harry never paid much attention to the names of the wizards and witches that the Ministry sent with him. He thought it'd be a waste of time, especially if they were to get killed. After the War, he grew weary of getting to know anyone else personally. What he had, the people he knew, that was enough.

"We're just checking this place out, not looking for criminals," he looked at the wizard, who was swaying back and forth nervously, "Stop looking so suspicious, look more lost, like you're trying to figure out which street your aunt's house is on."

He grew annoyed with everyone the Ministry ever sent him. They were fresh out of Auror training and didn't know how to handle themselves. He was never one to think he deserved better than others, but he thought with his reputation, they would at least put him with experienced and veteran Aurors. But no, he was stuck with the new Aurors.

Harry heard shuffling and leave crackling in an alley near by. It wasn't hard to miss, there was barely any wind today nor was this a busy street. He stopped and ordered the others too as well, trying to listen more intently.

"N-now what?" The other one whispered.

The noise stopped. Must've been the children, he rationalized. He kept walking.

Harry looked at the Auror with his annoyed frown that he wore on his face most of the day. "We walk. Merlin's beard." He shook his head. He kept is eye out, though, as old habits would have it.

They act as if this is a big mission. The Ministry only told them to check out this place, to see if there's any suspicious occurrences. This was homework that the veteran Aurors did not want to do, this was child's play. Harry was compliant and annoyed, and saw nor heard anything else.

He walked in front of them, looking back and forth at the different buildings and the alleyways that separated them to be completely thorough.

Suddenly, the right side of his forehead scorched, where he scar was. He hadn't felt this since his time at Hogwarts. It was like in first year... when it burned, but he had no idea why.

He looked back at the two Aurors, to see if they were doing anything to him because he knew he'd been rather mean. He looked at the buildings, to see if anyone had been casting a spell from the windows. He looked on the sidewalks, the streets. Everywhere.

Voldemort was dead. He knew that for a fact. He was dead and there was no way to bring him back. So there's no way the reason why his scar burned was in relation to Voldemort. He had killed him, Harry watched Voldemort's body deteriorate into ash, into nothing.

The stinging intensified and he began to feel dizzy and nauseous. He inhaled sharply as the stinging took over his body and mind. The Aurors looked at him strangely, both confused.

It was impossible, Harry thought. Unable to think anymore while facing this unbearable pain, he quickly grabbed the two Aurors and disapparated them back to the Ministry.

A crowd gathered as Harry yelled and screamed in pain, the stinging spreading from his forehead throughout his body and the disapparation only making it worse. He felt like he was on fire and dipped in a frozen lake all at once as he rocked back and forth on the floor. The pain seared throughout every nerve, every vein, every artery, and through his heart to be pumped through everything all over again. With every cycle of pain he felt his conscious slip even more and suddenly he was blinded, everything fading to the deepest black he's ever seen.

Kingsley pushed his way through and began yelling orders. "Get the emergency healing Aurors at St. Mungo's. You two! You tell me what happened this instant. Taura, where is Hermione?" Kingsley asked Taura who were both at Harry's side.

"She's on her lunch break. I-I don't know." Taura looked at the Chosen One as he convulsed on the Ministry floor, making sounds of what could only be interpreted as extreme pain, he's eyes rolled back, "I'll go find her." Panicking, Taura struggled to stand on her weak legs and instantly disapparated.

Hermione wasn't looking for any book in particular, she simply liked to admire the extensive collection the Ministry owned. She would sometimes take her lunch breaks here and wander aimlessly, the smell of new and old parchment filling her nose.

Suddenly her name was being called and before she could turn to face them, she was being disapparated with them. Scared and out of natural reaction, she attempted to split from whoever had a hold on her as they travelled. However, this person had a firm grip around her and she was unable to.

When they landed, Hermione took her wand and put it into the neck of her captor, only to realize it was Taura.

"Taura," her eyes widening with realization and surprise as she retracted her wand, "I'm so sorry, you scared me."

"It's okay, it was my fault I was panicking." She was out of breath as she spoke. "I've been looking for you for ten minutes."

"Looking for me, why?" She inched.

"Come on." Taura grabbed her hand and ran into St. Mungo's, where they had apparated to.

Kingsley, two Aurors who she hadn't seen before, Ginny, some other Ministry employees, and... Ron. She took everyone in and stood awkwardly as she and Ron made eye contact. They hadn't spoken since their break up. He looked good, great even. He had his red hint to his cheeks and his shoulders slouched slightly, not out of sadness but as his natural posture had always been.

She walked closer to everyone and looked at Kingsley, "What's happened?" She took a second look around again, "Where's Harry?"

The silence that came over everyone as she asked the latter question was deafening. Taura's mouth opened to explain, but she hesitated and looked at Kingsley with an anxious frown to her eyebrows. The Aurors also looked at Kingsley and swayed back and forth nervously. Ginny looked down with a vacant, teary stare as she clung to Ron's arm, who was giving Hermione a worried look. A worried look she'd seen before. His eyebrows curled, his lips were scrunched at the right side of his mouth, and he looked at her through his eyelashes.

"Kingsley," her heart of beating in her throat and once again, she felt the cracks in her recently healed world begin to crumble, "What's happened?"

It was like he were asleep indefinitely. The healing Aurors performed a variety of tests on him since he was brought into their care. Ginny, Ron and herself were the only ones allowed in the room as these tests took place. Spots of him showed a red light when they searched for dark magic and mental issues, indicating that there's something wrong. However, when checking for broken bones or sprained joints or anything physical for that matter, it all showed green.

That's what confused them all. Physically, Harry was healthy. Magically, he deteriorating. Even the healing Aurors couldn't make sense of it. The magical being and the physical human being are meant to be one. It was peculiar and unusual for the magical being and only the magical being in Harry to be suffering as it was.

Hermione left Ginny and Ron to comfort each other as she headed out of the room.

Of course some people are born magical, and for others it sets in later in life. For the latter, they identified as human for the first 10 years of their lives, not a witch or wizard. Human was all they ever knew themselves to be, as did Harry and Hermione. Well, Harry was born with it but he never knew it. They had their Muggle being, which held their personality, likes, dislikes, school grades, and more. Then there came their magical beings; which held their magical abilities, intelligence, and awareness. So maybe she unconsciously separated what makes her up, her human being and magical being. And maybe that's what's happening to Harry, except his body is separating them.

But then again, these components together made up who they were, they were meant to be intertwined for as long as they live. So why is only one part of Harry decaying? Is it possible for magic to disappear from a person? To be taken away as quickly as it was given?

Of course, there was one explanation, but it was impossible. He was dead, disintegrated to dust. His curse rebounded, he was gone and everything after was peaceful. So it was impossible. But was it really? One could never be too sure in this magical universe.

Hermione's stomach dropped as the thought entered her mind. Could he really be attempting to come back?

Merlin, no. He was dead. He was dust. This has nothing to do with him. She was overthinking as usual. Harry's just feeling ill but he's going to be okay. The hospital will figure out what's wrong and they'll heal it.

"Granger, you talk aloud when that oversized brain of yours thinks too hard. It's very annoying, please shut up."

She jumped as she came to and looked at her surroundings. The psychiatric ward. Of course her brain would unconsciously choose to make her wander here. Draco was sitting on the floor outside his room, reading a book. Quickly, she turned away.

Frozen in her spot, she stood with her back toward him. "Sorry." Sorry? Really? Last time you were here, he was the rude one. And now you're apologizing for speaking out loud? Pathetic.

"Here for another checkup?"

She scoffed at his cockiness and instantly turned to face him with her arms crossed. "That's rich, but no. I'm not. I was just thinking and ended up here while on a walk."

"You unconsciously ended up outside my room? How sweet." He said without even looking up from his book to acknowledge her.

She thought she had feelings for him, maybe she still did. He made her feel things no one else has. But maybe it was just an infatuation, maybe it was just all new and exciting to her. Maybe it wasn't real at all. She grew frustrated with whatever version of Malfoy this was, not that she glorified the unhealthy version of him either. But he could be nice and funny when he wanted, but she wasn't sure anymore. And after everything she'd been through thus far and after weeks of trying to understand Malfoy, she understood he'd have a hard time being that person again. She would try to break his walls down at some point, if he returned back to work, if they had any chance to interact as they once did. But for now, she had other worries.

"I must be going." She replied, realizing that a reaction out of her was what he wanted. But she was done taking the bait he'd often put out. She began to walk away.

"Granger," Draco almost pleaded as he stood quickly and looked at her, instantly regretting it too. But after all the therapy and group discussions he'd been a part of, he knew he had to do this.

She turned to look at him with the annoyed expression she mastered when dealing with Malfoy, "What?" She spat, but still a part of her was holding onto the Malfoy she knew by a string.

"I'm sorry. For my outburst. When you first came here." He said uncomfortably. Like he was going to puke after he said each sentence.

Taken aback by his words, she stood quietly with her lips between her teeth. She nodded once, "Thanks, Malfoy," her guard was still up high, but she still had a heart, "I just wanted to know if you were okay. Truly okay, and not just... lying to everyone."

He smirked at her statement, "I've done nothing but lie my whole life, but I'm not lying when I say I'm truly doing better." He confided in her, finally. Finally saying something meaningful. Showing the truest and deepest parts of himself.

She gave a small smile herself and nodded once again. She was still weary and hesitant around him, unable to figure out how she should act or behave.

He stepped forward, "You... you can come back. Anytime you'd like." Then an instant facade was put up, "I mean, if you want to." His shoulders broadened as he attempted to look tall and unbothered.

She started backing away from him, nodded for the third time before she turned around and made her way back. How does she get back to Harry's room from here? She remembers turning right... somewhere. And possibly taking an elevator. But also maybe she took some stairs.

"To the left and take the elevator to the 2nd floor, if he's in the intensive care unit." She heard Malfoy yell down the hallway. Did she really talk out loud when she thought?

•••

Ron, Ginny, and herself sat in Harry's room. The sound of the heart rate monitor being the only sound that echoed throughout it.

"It couldn't be... You-Know-Who again, could it?" Ron spoke for the first time to seemingly Ginny and her, as before it was only Ginny. He looked to her for an answer.

"I thought of it as well. But there would have been rumours, wouldn't there? And we saw Harry beat him ourselves, with our own eyes. We saw him disintegrate into dust." She shrugged. "I just feel as though people would be speculating and gossiping about it. Like they did last time."

"Dad would have heard something at the Ministry even if it was gossip. They take it very seriously this time around, any talk of You-Know-Who I mean. Even if he is dead." Ginny added.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right." Ron nodded, but a worried expression still hung on his face.

Hermione fell asleep in the chair beside Ron, and Ginny on the chair beside Harry's bed. Ron however, stayed awake. Looking at his best friend. The years of sharing a room at Hogwarts and a room at the Burrow, he knew when something was happening to Harry.

He was sweating, Ron noticed. And at times, he would toss and turn with an expression on his face that indicated he was in pain. But instead of the whispers of parseltongue, Harry was silent. That was one thing that comforted Ron. That Harry lost his ability to speak parseltongue after You-Know-Who was defeated, creeped him out it did.

Something was wrong, Ron felt it in his gut. Harry's not one to drop on the floor, screaming in pain. Harry had a high pain tolerance, much higher than he did. So for Harry to be screaming in pain and to pass out, he knew the level of pain he was feeling was higher than anything he'd felt before.

And Harry was a skilled duelist with quick reflexes. He saw it first hand in the War. If anyone came up to him and began firing hexes, Harry would be able to take them on without a sweat.

Something was very, deeply wrong with his friend. And it was eating Ron from the inside out, bothering him to no end. He couldn't handle another War. He knew he was thinking ahead of himself, but nothing good ever happened when Harry was like this.