THE EIGHTEENTH CHAPTER
By: Scatterheart
A long time ago in a campus far, far away…Section Two
With the defeat of Voldemort came a peace and quiet that Hogwarts had never known. For the first time in what had to be centuries, the soft blanket of snow that fell upon the Hogwarts grounds carried no insidious threat or dark implication beneath its innocent façade. There were no more dangers lurking in the corridors. No more scars and Death Marks and spies and blood splattered walls. Christmas break would idly pass and the snows would melt; then a green spring would emerge and the seventh years would be graduated with the coming of the summer.
Hermione Granger stared out at the expanse of white field and forest from the large window in her dormitory and hugged her woolen blanket around her body. For seven Christmas breaks she had seen the same view, she realized. Maybe not from the same location (when she had been elected Head Girl several months ago she had been given a private room) but nevertheless it felt as if she had been taken back in time, and she was only a first year occupying a shared dorm, soaking up in awe the sights and surprises of the wizard domain known as Hogwarts.
To her, Hogwarts seemed timeless, endless, and she had to remind herself that she was already eighteen years old and that she would be leaving the school at the end of June. She could hardly believe it: she was a seventh year. She let the truth of the matter settle into her mind like the snows settling over the landscape, and a vague heaviness pressed upon her heart. She was eighteen; she was an adult who had journeyed through hell, not a wide-eyed kid bouncing through the gates of Hogwarts with pastel dreams of magic. But for some reason she did not feel like an adult, and she did not know whether she wanted to move backward in time, or if she had the ability to move forward.
--
Activity you could have been doing other than reading this fic: getting your nails manicured. Thank you for your sacrifice.
Review me harder, baby!