Prologue
A Forgotten Past- by Joy, aka Joyfulnoise.
Characters to JKR, story to me.
There will be HBP spoilers all throughout the story, so be warned.
Also, this is beyond what will probably happen in Book 7. If all the characters I mention are still alive, I'm a flying pig. But who doesn't want to keep it happy?
------------------
Ding, ding, ding! The chimes of the alarm clock awoke Hermione Granger almost immediately- they always did. It was the tradition that started every morning for 3 years- 3 years in a boring life. 3 years in a life that this young lady did not want to keep living.
She hit the clock with the palm of her, rising out of bed. She approached the mirror with caution, as every other young woman does in the morning. She glanced at her roommate, Marlene. She was still sleeping, just as Hermione had expected. The proof was in the pudding as Marlene rolled over with a snort. Stealthily the witch took a glance from right to left, and a sly grin emerged on her face as she flicked on a light. Marlene groaned loudly and dived into the covers with another noise that was indescribable- perhaps a snore- or a grunt? Whatever it was, Hermione ignored it and picked an item up from her dresser. She started to tame her unruly hair, running a brush through the bushy locks.
It did not take her long to dwell on her dreams, to remember the horrific moment she had re-lived the night before. So clearly the scene played in her mind like a music box, so vividly had the cries of defeat ended the dream. She remembered the cry of shock from Harry as he returned, breathlessly. The Horcruxes had been found, a slow, steady process, but none the less still found. Voldemort's defeat had been triumphant- so who was still missing? Ron was weak but alive, Harry was wounded but breathing, but alas- Ginny! The dearest of female friends to Hermione- was gone.
Whatever curse the unforgiving death eater had fired had hit her all too hard- and earned her 2 years in St. Mungo's. Hermione had trained to be a healer, but dealing with the care of her best friend- whose condition had not been improving- was difficult. She had fled, fled from the scene in which she could take no longer. It had been 2 years after Voldemort's defeat, 2 years in which she should have married Ron and settled into being St. Mungo's finest Healer.
It didn't help that promptly after the dream, an Owl had arrived announcing the sad death of a second good friend- Neville Longbottom. Hermione knew very well why- Voldemort's followers were still trying to spark things up.
Hermione wiped a single tear from her eye and dunked the letter into a dresser drawer. She hadn't received an Owl in 3 years, and this was possibly the closest to magic she had ever gotten. Too scared to return, afraid not for herself but yet for her friends- it was all too much for Ms. Granger, whose current occupation was a doctor in a muggle hospital.
She wished that her life of monotony had not been upset by this event- but too late. All day at the Hospital, between check-ups and chemotherapy and MRI's, she could not help but dwell back to her forgotten past.
And maybe it was time to return.