Chapter 24: Fake It Till You Make It

You'd think that teachers would be clever enough to realise that if you plan a party on the last day of term that everyone will be late to the train. Yet on the day after the Christmas Ball, it seemed that no one had accounted for this, and it actually ended up leaving twenty minutes late. If only it had done the same for Harry and Ron in their second year.

With the train being late and all, Hermione had assumed that she would be able to seek out Snape and explain why she had kissed him on the previous night. Unfortunately, by the time that she had got to the platform, he had already boarded and she barely had enough time to bid her friends farewell before it was speeding away from her.

Leaving her in Hogsmeade to seek out her surrogate father, her friends had all hugged her goodbye and had wished her a Merry Christmas. Even Sirius appeared to have mellowed after their argument and reminded her about the Potter's party, flirting outrageously in order to get her into the character of his girlfriend he claimed. James had asked whether she wanted to stay the night, but she declined, knowing that she wouldn't feel right spending her first Christmas away with her new friends, when she was still hurting from the loss of her old ones.

Instead, she decided to spend it with Aberforth, and she knew that she had made the correct choice when he immediately hugged her when she walked into the pub, uncaring of their audience. With all of the mock exams that had been going on in the past couple of weeks, she hadn't been able to come down at the weekends and she had missed seeing Aberforth. From the few short grunts that he had let out when she arrived, she assumed that it was the same for him.

In the short number of days before Christmas there was a lot to do; from helping at the pub in the evenings, which just kept getting busier, to going out during the days to go shopping for presents. She even considered contacting Moody to suggest a refresher on some defensive training, but decided to postpone it for that week of nothingness that always happened between Christmas and New Year's, because she knew that her body just wouldn't cope.

It wasn't long until Christmas Eve came upon her, which left Hermione staring into her closet to look for something to wear for considerably longer than she'd care to admit. By the time that it came around to the day itself, Hermione was so panicked that she barely noticed the soft knock at her door when Aberforth dropped off a parcel for her.

She glanced down at the sender before he spoke, "Should I be concerned about this Black boy, I don't think my heart could take it if I had to put up with him as your boyfriend." Hermione could only splutter out her excuses about faking a relationship and 'just friends' so much before Aberforth just left with a raised eyebrow, causing her to roll her eyes.

The box itself was deceptively light and Hermione assumed that he had used a feather light charm on it for it to be able to be delivered by owl, because when she opened it she gasped at the dress that she found inside. The dress was actually more modest than she had been predicting from Sirius. Short enough to show some leg, although not too short that you can't move in it without flashing someone, and with a sweetheart neckline that showed a respectable amount of cleavage.

The only problem was with the short sleeves, which she would easily lengthen, and the fact that it was bright, shockingly red. Like warning, danger red like red.

Hermione sighed deeply as she took it out of the box and rolled her eyes as she realised that at least it's a Christmassy colour and he hadn't gone with neon pink like with the Slytherins. As the silky fabric moved, a small parchment of paper fell to the ground in the form of a handwritten note.

If you're going to be my girlfriend, you have to accept that everybody will be looking at you anyway, so why not really stand out?

S

P.s. This is your Christmas present so don't get grumpy when nothing else turns up tomorrow.

It wasn't until she actually entered Potter Manor that she began to get really angry at Sirius because as soon as she flooed in, the dress was already dirty. Grumbling after him for a few moments, it was only when a house elf appeared to bring Sirius to her that she remembered he was a witch and could banish the soot herself.

"Ah Hermione, darling, you look simply ravishing this evening!" Sirius's deep voice rang out across the entryway and Hermione looked up to find him smiling down at her. As he walked down the staircase to join her, she took in the subtle red dress robes that he was wearing and wondered if he had chosen them specifically to match her.

When he drew her into a hug, she whispered into his ear, "Don't you think you're overdoing this a tiny bit?" She tugged on his collar and leaned away, smiling sweetly, "Darling?"

He only grinned and looped her arm through his, starting to walk in the direction of muffled voices down the hall, "What no kiss hello from my girlfriend? I'm hurt, and after I bought you such an incredible and expensive dress." As he said this he took in what she was wearing. "Why did you change the sleeves?"

Ignoring the final question, she gasped and lightly smacked his arm, "What? You didn't say it was expensive! I can pay you back."

Sirius just shook his head and glanced back down at her, bringing her to a halt before they entered the room with all the noise, "Don't worry, it's your Christmas present anyway. Besides, it proves that I was right. While you may look great in black, you look fucking incredible in red."

Before Hermione could do anything other than blush at the compliment, Sirius was pushing open the door to what appeared to be a large sitting room, filled with people talking, dancing and laughing. Where she had previously been afraid that she may stand out in her red dress, she suddenly realised that she may actually be underdressed compared with all the bizarrely dressed people in the room.

Aware that her jaw had dropped, Sirius laughed at her reaction, "Don't worry, you haven't walked into a freak convention or anything. James's dad, Fleamont, is into fashion and has lots of friends that are too so they all just use these get-togethers to show off."

"I thought you said that it was a small family get-together?" Hermione choked out.

"It is." Sirius said like it explained it all, "Us purebloods are connected to everyone in some way or another, and seeing as the Potter's are the only ones that don't disown you if you get married to someone who is not a pureblood…. Well," Sirius scratched the black of his head sheepishly. "They take in us rejects as their distant family." He smiled down at her and indicated the crowd. "All these purebloods are pressed because they're dying out, but we just keep on growing."

As Hermione took in the crowd, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness for Harry, now looking at the sort of environment that he should have grown up in. The room was filled with the noise of laughter and happiness, and an eclectic family so large that it would put even the Weasley's to shame. Though even this was tinted with sadness, because Hermione knew that in one way or another, they wouldn't be there for Harry, whether they all died in the War, or drifted apart as friends do.

The change in her mood must have shown in her face because in no time Sirius was frowning down at her and steering her towards a corner of the room, muttering under his breath. "I know they're here somewhere." Whoever he was looking for made their appearance known to them before he could find them when they were almost barrelled over by an anxious Lily.

"Oh Hermione! Thank God you're here!" She breathed out in relief, as she pulled Hermione into a hug, "I didn't think you'd get here in time before James could drag me to find his parents. If there are two of us then they'll pay less attention to me."

Hermione could only laugh and suggest "Shall I act really terribly then so that it'll make you seem better, or will that just make them think I'm perfect for Sirius?"

Before Lily could reply, she felt a heavy arm fall over her shoulders and Sirius's deep voice beside her ear, "That's harsh kitten, are you implying that I act badly then?"

She looked up at him and smiled, "You know you do so don't deny it, Snuffles." The appearance of James distracted her from the surprised look on Sirius's face at the title that should have been unknown to her. This, in turn, also caused her to miss the suspicious look that followed.

"Oh there you are Lily, now are you going to come and meet my parents or not. I've already agreed to meet yours for New Year's, so it's only fair." He finally realised who she was with and turned to Hermione, "Oh hey there Hermione, I hear that you've managed to secure the heart of my good friend here. Do I need to ask about your intentions?"

Hermione laughed, "Oh, I assure you. They're entirely dishonourable, I actually plan on splitting up with him tonight. Though don't tell him." They both turned to look at Sirius and laugh, though he just rolled his eyes. "Now are we gonna throw Lily to the wolves or not?"

"Ugh, stop it! I'm seriously panicking!" Lily cried out, but she was quickly placated by James.

"Shh, you've got nothing to worry about. I've only been talking about you for years already and they've sort of already met you."

"Yeah, as your friend and arch enemy. This is different." Lily grumbled, pouting.

James just chuckled at this and took hold of her hand, "Don't worry, they'll love you. Coming Pads?" He called to Sirius as he began to weave through the crowd and the pair could do nothing but follow on behind them, hands clasped so as not to lose one another.

By the time that they caught up with their friends, Lily was already stuttering through some sort of introduction to James' parents, who were dressed just as bizarrely as everyone else in the vicinity. By the time they came into earshot, they heard the tail end of James' mother's reply, "...call me Euphemia dear, after all, from what we've heard from James here, you're destined to be together."

"Aw mum." James whined out and covered his face which was steadily growing red, "Do you have to?"

The robust man at her side let out a deep chuckle that made his face strongly echo Hermione's old friend so much that it made her heart ache when he replied, "Of course we have to tell her, what's the point of parents if not to embarrass you to your first girlfriend?"

Lily let out a strangled high pitched laugh that was a mixture of stress and relief and then turned to look at Hermione, to give her a manic, panicked look. Although James' parents didn't see this look, it did draw their attention towards the approach of Sirius and herself. Hermione was forced to watch as she saw their faces simultaneously light up at the sight of their second son, but then fall when they settled upon her.

"Sirius dear, I had wondered where you had got to. Is this a friend of yours?" Euphemia's voice still carried the happiness that she had addressed Lily with, but Hermione could see the stiffness in her cheeks as she looked down at her. Knowing that she would get some sort of recognition after her appearance at the Order meetings, Hermione was unsurprised, although a little hurt that it was so cold.

"Of course mum, dad, this is my girlfriend, Hermione Dumbledore." Both of his parent's eyebrows rose incrementally at the news of her relation to their son, although they said nothing, and Hermione couldn't for the life of her work out what they were thinking.

"Oh," Fleamont was the first to garner a response, although it was slightly flat sounding, "You didn't tell us that you were seeing anyone, that's good news."

"Yep," Sirius replied, not seeming to notice that anything was off, "It's a bit new, but it's been fun." As he spoke he lifted his arm to wrap around Hermione's shoulders and she could do nothing but smile in what she hoped was a sweet way.

"Lovely," Euphemia continued, finally addressing Hermione, "And you're friends with James as well, Miss Dumbledore?"

"Yes." Hermione replied in what she hoped was a friendly tone, "I've found that these two are a bit of a package deal."

James, Sirius and Lily chuckled at this and the parents let out an unnatural laugh before Euphemia continued in a distant voice, "Lovely." Suddenly she clapped, causing Hermione to jump, "Oh I almost forgot that I need to talk to Pinky about some of the nibbles we have out, she forgot to label that they weren't vegetarian last time."

Before anyone could say anything, she had rushed off, leaving the rest of them staring off behind her. "Anyway," Fleamont cut in, "What NEWTs are you doing Lily, I'd love to hear about what you want to do after leaving school." Hermione had to admire the man's ability at diverting the attention of a group of people because before long they were all sitting around discussing their futures, James' mother's weird behaviour forgotten.

As the night continued, Hermione found herself enjoying the party and the atmosphere, even thinking that this sort of vibrant scene would be fun to spend more time in. The four of them circulated the room and talked to lots of different types of people and it was always interesting to hear Sirius's whispered explanation in her ear every time about how they were distantly related.

Her favourite interaction of course was that of Andromeda Tonks, her husband and their daughter, who was five, and wasn't afraid to let you know about it if you spoke down to her. Even as this continued and the evening began to wind down, Fleamont and Euphemia continued to send her odd looks, causing Hermione to seek out the toilet just to escape them for a bit.

It was when she exited the loo that the problems arose, because she soon realized that she was lost. With this being the largest house she had set foot in except Malfoy Manor, it was only natural that it would happen, and yet it was still embarrassing when it did. When she came across her third dead end in a row, Hermione gave up and gave in to her curiosity, opening a pair of ancient oak doors.

The sight of the most beautiful library that she had ever seen was enough to knock the breath out of her lungs, but when she walked a couple of steps in and saw the sheer size of it, Hermione almost fainted. As it was not in use, the candelabras were not lit and so the only light that filled the room came from the moon through ceiling to floor windows. Where someone else might find the shadows that it caused in the books spooky, Hermione felt like she had just entered paradise.

Unfortunately she was not able to appreciate her surroundings long before her wand was ripped out of her hand and she was shoved against a bookshelf. The sight of a wand in front of her nose didn't surprise her almost as much as the person holding it.

"What do you want with my son's?" Euphemia's strong voice hissed at her, creating a formidable image, even though she was considerably smaller than Hermione.

"What? What do you mean?" She replied, flustered that she had been caught unawares.

"You arrive out of nowhere and convince Dumbledore to let you into the Order even though you're still at Hogwarts, and now you have conveniently befriended my children? What do you want?"

Hermione frowned, "I don't understand, why would I want anything with them?"

"Well," Euphemia reasoned, "You appear knowing information that no one knows where from and with a mission that not even Dumbledore knows about. Do you really expect me to just let you associate yourself with my son's?"

Now that Hermione was less confused, she was just irritated, "Let me? I'm not using them, they're just my friends, if you don't like that then there's nothing I can do about that."

This caused the older woman to finally lower her wand a bit, "Are you not? Why are you placed at Hogwarts then if not to use the students there?"

Hermione huffed and sorted out her dress where it had gotten rumpled, "I'm there because it's safe and because I haven't finished school, the same as everyone else. Now do you mind, but I would quite like to get back to my boyfriend."

Euphemia rolled her eyes, "Don't lie to me, we both know that's not true, you're here for Lily. Or maybe even us." She looked around at the room they were standing in, "Why are you snooping? If you needed something from us for your mission then you could have just asked Dumbledore." There was a pause, before she continued in a suspicious tone, "Unless you're not working for him?"

"Of course I'm not working for someone else, I'm a muggleborn, remember. I just like reading and I got lost."

"But you do have your own mission?" Euphemia questioned and Hermione just sighed and nodded, realising that this woman wouldn't trust or respect her unless she told the truth. "Are you carrying it out at Hogwarts?"

Hermione gazed into her eyes for a second, "Some of it, yes."

"Is it dangerous?" The woman asked, and Hermione knew that she wouldn't like the answer and so she nodded again. Euphemia looked down at the floor again before meeting her eye, "Then I do not want you being friends with my children."

"It's not like I can stop them hanging around with me and they'll be safe; war is coming and people will be hurt regardless." She explained.

"But will the chances of them being hurt increase if they spend more time with you?" Hermione's silence at this question was answer enough and so Euphemia shook her head. "Then no. I will not allow this."

"You are not my mother and cannot stop me." Hermione reminded her, hurt that this woman, Harry's Grandmother, did not want to be associated with her. "You cannot stop your children from hanging out with me without good reason and you cannot give them that reason without bringing them into the Order early and getting them into even more danger." Hermione raised her eyebrow at the woman in defiance as she realised that she had trapped her into a corner.

Euphemia glared down at her, "I'm sure I can find a way of getting rid of you without telling them anything." She threatened and Hermione felt herself shrink into the ground a bit. "I used to be a Black, dear, so I know how to knock people down. So I'm warning you now, stay away from my family if you know what is good for you, and just know that you will never have a place here if it means that my son's are in danger."

Before Hermione could even fathom a reply, Euphemia was stalking out of the room, slamming Hermione's wand onto a nearby table. She turned back to address her before she left, putting on a fake smile, "It was lovely meeting you Hermione, do give my regards to your father, but in the meantime, could you close the doors on your way out?"

After Hermione's altercation in the library, it wasn't long before she sought out her friends to say goodbye and flee the building. Thankfully they didn't seem to realise that something was wrong and when she got back to the Hog's Head, the pub was still open so Aberforth wasn't there to see her tears.

It wasn't that she had been threatened and yelled at which was bothering her, it was the fact that it was Harry's Grandmother. She had been told in no uncertain terms to stay the hell away from the Potter's by the matriarch herself and all that it did was reinforce how alone she was.

If she did as Euphemia had suggested and distanced herself from her friends then she would be alone, and if she stayed with them then she would still have the threat lying above her head that Euphemia could turn them away from her. One thing was for sure was that she would never get her Harry back, and even if she did then what would she say? I met your family and they're all brilliant, as you knew they would be, but they don't want to be associated with me?

It was Christmas Eve and she had no family and no friends from her old life and those she had made in this world would soon be lost to her. Even then, she was lying to them all anyway, and when they found out they would leave.

These thoughts spiralled in Hermione's head as she attempted to get to sleep, just shucking her dress and leaving it on a pile on the floor as she curled up in her pyjamas in bed. She stared at the wall as her stomach plummeted, barely noticing when the clock struck midnight and the patrons below cheered and wished one another Merry Christmas.

It wasn't until much later after Aberforth had gone to bed that she finally fell into a fitful dose, with as usual, the star performer reciting all of her fears to her. Bellatrix never failed to disappoint Hermione in her nightmares, somehow evolving from the monster that inflicted physical pain, to one that also hurled abuse and every insecurity she had right back in her face.

She didn't realise that she was screaming and her arm was bleeding heavily until she felt Aberforth's strong arms pin her to the bed to stop her thrashing. Before long, this developed into weeping and then bodily sobs which wracked her whole frame as her father held her. When she was calm enough to speak, she only had to mumble about the darkness of the room before Aberforth's goat patronus was there flooding the room with it's comforting light and warmth.

It was a while before she felt comfortable to move and Aberforth seemed to understand that, no longer holding her down, but just sitting with her as she stroked his patronus. When she finally managed to sit up, the faint light of dawn was just beginning to filter through the curtains, illuminating the mess that she had made of her arm.

Where the word 'mudblood' had once been written was a mess of dried blood and shredded pyjama sleeve, which used to be long sleeved, but she had yanked off in her sleep. "Please don't clean it with magic," she croaked out in a broken voice, to which he nodded and left the room to collect a cloth and basin.

As he sat back down and conjured a better light for him to see by, Hermione flinched at the sight of her bloody bed, not wanting him to see what he would soon uncover. At first he didn't make any outward signs of recognising what was written there but she knew the moment he did. By the time that the caked blood washed away, the raised lettering stood out as firm as always and Hermione watched as a line appeared between his brows and his hand tightened on the cloth, though the one holding her remained steady.

"I know that I promised not to ask you what has happened to you. But I need you to tell me who did this." Came his calm voice, somehow causing a chill to run down her back more than an angry one would.

"What does it matter?" Hermione sighed, "She hasn't done it yet so it didn't really happen."

"It happened to you and that means that it matters." He replied softly, reaching for some soothing paste that he had brought with him.

She glanced up at him, but he was intentionally not meeting her eye, which she actually felt relieved about. "Her name is Bellatrix Lestrange."

"What happened?"

"We were captured and she thought that we had something of hers. One of us had to be tortured for information and I think she saw me as the most expendable. Either that or she was just looking forward to causing me pain the most." Hermione remembered the occasion in a defeated tone, feeling bone dead tired of it all more than upset.

"Do you have any more?" He asked and Hermione was momentarily confused. "Scars from her." He clarified.

"Not really from her. Only the one on my neck." Hermione replied, "She preferred the Cruciatus Curse, though I do have a big scar on my chest from some sort of fire curse. We weren't really sure what it was meant to do. Hurt like hell though."

"Who did that to you?" Aberforth calmly asked again and Hermione looked at his downturned face as he continued to apply the paste.

"Why does it matter, it's not like you can do anything about it?"

"I would like to know. And it might do you some good to tell someone, you can't keep everything bottled up."

Hermione sighed and told him, causing him to stiffen and finally look her in the eye, "Dolohov, he's in your year, right?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me, I could have done something about it?" He asked and Hermione saw a flicker of hurt in his eyes.

"You can't just expel a guy for something that he may or may not do in the future." She reasoned.

"Yes, but I could have done something, talked to Albus and got him to watch you, or thrown a hex or two his way when he comes down for Hogsmeade weekends."

Hermione snorted in amusement and then coughed, realising that all of the screaming had given her a sore throat, "You hate Albus, but you would talk to him for me? I don't know whether to be touched or concerned."

"Definitely both." He replied and they both smiled. When he paused and looked pensive for a moment, she slowly lowered herself down onto her cushions.

"Do you know why I hate him?" Aberforth asked quietly, and her eyes snapped back to him as he remembered their first interaction. "Oh yeah, you said that you got me to tell you in the future, using your amazing powers of persuasion."

"Well, I'm not actually that good." She smiled and he raised his eyebrows as she explained, "Actually Albus died and Rita Skeeter wrote a biography for him and then we saw you and you talked about Ariana."

"Skeeter, that hag?" Hermione hummed in agreement at their similar assessment of the woman, "I can't imagine her being too liberal with the facts."

There was a pause for a moment before he continued, "So Albus is dead then?" Her eyes must have widened when she realised that she had said too much because he just waved down whatever she was going to say. "Don't worry, I kind of assumed that considering that the Order was failing. It's a bit odd though to consider that I outlive him."

"It'll probably change…" She began, but he just waved her off.

"We haven't really seen each other as family for a long while yet anyway. But I guess I would prefer it if he didn't die, he does have his uses." The corner of his mouth lifted up slightly, "You should have seen him when we were little though. No one fell at his feet and it just infuriated him, even Ariana laughed at how stuck up he was."

There was a pause and she chose to take the plunge, "What was she like?"

Aberforth glanced at her and then decided to continue, "She was kind. That was the main thing that stood out to me. Even though she didn't know what was going on most of the time, Ariana would always check in with me. That's not to mention her love for nature and the random creatures that she would always find."

He took a breath and then continued, "She was always so curious with everything, whether it was an object that she found or something that she found out about the world. I'd always remember her sitting staring off into the distance thinking about something or another, or fiddling with an object to see how it worked."

Hermione smiled, "I would have loved to meet her."

Aberforth looked across at her and a strange look passed across his face, "Yes, you would probably get on like a house on fire. I guess that's why you remind me of her so much; your determination to find out anything and everything that there is to know."

Aberforth looked back down to her uncovered arm and his shoulders drooped, "You couldn't help but admire the way that she looked at the world, so when she was gone, it was like she sucked the colour out of everything. All that was pure and good about life was taken with her."

Hermione reached forward and placed her hand lightly on his back and was relieved when he didn't move away at the contact and continued, "For a long time after I struggled a lot. Nothing like what you're going through, but I was hurting and so I lashed out."

"Did you find anything that helped?" She asked quietly.

Surprisingly, he let out a throaty chuckle, "I used to travel to a secluded place and smash stuff up, and with time, I exhausted myself of the majority of my anger."

"I doubt that would work for me," Hermione muttered and looked towards the still lightening window, "I've got nothing to be angry at anymore, I'm just tired."

There was a beat before Aberforth spoke again, "Well then, maybe we should focus on you getting a decent night's sleep then. I'm sure that Poppy would give you some more dreamless sleep from time to time."

Hermione hung her head and rubbed at her eyes, "Yes she's offered, but I don't want to become dependent on it. I've tried other things, but apparently I'm not trying hard enough to make them work yet."

She could hear the levity in his voice when he replied, "Who ever heard of you not trying hard enough? What is it that's not working? I'm not my brother, but I do have some semblance of a brain rattling around up here and can help." He tapped his head.

Thoroughly annoyed at the whole practice, Hermione just groaned out the word, "Occlumency. Though apparently I can't even get past the first stage."

"Ah." He pondered, "I'd wondered if that might be the case, it is quite a useful mechanism to calm down and sort yourself out."

She glanced up at him again, "Do you know much about it, I thought that most people didn't bother?"

"Well most people don't have a power hungry brother testing out legilimency on them at every available opportunity."

Hermione frowned, "Seriously? That's a bit-" She grappled for the right word.

"Invasive? Rude? Cruel? Yeah." Aberforth grumbled, "I'm aware, but at least I can now help you."

Hermione looked up into his smiling face and couldn't help but feel a wave of relief at the offer. With Snape being how he was, she knew that if she went to him for some more assistance then he would needlessly tease her and all it would result in would be her feeling even more annoyed and useless than before. Aberforth would help with no judgement or preconceptions about her skill level.

She sighed, "It's just that I can't empty my mind. I've tried all the techniques; thinking of a still lake, an empty piece of paper and all the other suggested ones, but no matter what I do, I always get distracted."

"Well there's your problem then." He replied as if it solved everything, "You're just doing what is suggested and you're not making it personal to you."

"Oh." She breathed out, "I thought that was just for the second step of sorting my memories."

Aberforth smiled down at her, "Occlumency is a very personal science and that's why it's so difficult to master. When protecting your own mind, everything has to be tailored specifically for you."

"What do you do then?" Was out of her mouth before she could stop it, causing him to look uncomfortable and shuffle in his seat.

"Fine then, close your eyes and I'll help you find a place."

"A place?" She immediately questioned.

"Shhh. Just close your eyes." He replied and Hermione did so, knowing that he must be shaking his head at her interrupting nature.

"Okay then," he began, "You need to find a place where you are comfortable, not an object or an idea, but a place that exists in the world. Maybe not in this world, but your own."

Whether he was talking about her world from the future or the muggle one of her childhood didn't matter because the image of a place in her mind quickly appeared. As the light filtered in and she looked around she wondered why she hadn't thought of it before.

Aberforth's voice continued to resonate around her as she looked around, "What is the one place where you have nothing and no one relying on you, where you can just sit and breathe?"

Her mind had taken her to her childhood bedroom. It was the morning by the look of the light falling through her curtains, but much later than she would usually wake up. She had slept in, and could still feel that drowsy feeling hanging over her. As she snuggled back into her pink polkadot duvet Hermione became more aware of the other things around her.

Her sheets were fresh, considering the crisp clean feeling, and the smell that permeated through was the fabric softener that her parents used, not the chemical lemon scent of the school washing. The bird's that chirped outside were greeted by the sound of someone turning the radio on in the kitchen below her room, her dad's favourite tunes playing out as his voice joined them.

The sound of a lawnmower starting a few gardens down kicked in and Hermione was amazed at how muggle her chosen place was. She lifted her head up from her pillow and breathed in the scent of someone cooking below; a Sunday roast and her favourite meal. Her parents laughed below and she smiled at the thought of them dancing around the kitchen and cooking together.

Where she would usually start to grimace at this thought and how it would never happen again, Hermione smiled and basked in the feeling that this bubble in her mind created. On her bedside table was a book, her favourite book, and so Hermione stretched and picked it up flipping to her favourite page. She picked up the steaming cup of tea that her parents must have brought to her and took a sip, almost moaning at the warm sensation that filled her.

All of the sensations around her were soft, light and warm and she could feel her muscles relaxing. A cool breeze pushed open her baby blue curtains and the morning sun played across her lower body, lighting the room around her and making her smile at the sight of her books piled at random points around the room. Her bookcases overflowed with wizard and muggle books alike, and from her viewpoint, she could see that the multitude of photo frames that filled the walls were filled with family and friends, from both of her lives.

It was this collection of muggle and wizard paraphernalia that finally got her to open her eyes and join the real world, amazed at the sight of all of the things that she held dear to her held together in one space.

As soon as she opened her eyes to the room around her, the warm feeling lessened, though the memory of it still felt wrapped around her like a blanket. Aberforth's smiling face was illuminated by the sun that was now shining through the window and she breathed out a sigh of relief. "Thank you." She whispered out and felt how the floppiness of her limbs and muscles still presided, finally released from months of stress.

"I didn't think that I was going to be able to do that." She continued in a quiet voice, afraid that if she spoke louder then the careful calm that had fallen over her would be broken. "Is it meant to be that easy?"

Her father chuckled lightly, and replied with a twinkle in his eye "Only if you've got a brilliant teacher."

Hermione could only reach across the bed and pull him into a hug, thankful that she had someone there to hold her. He patted her back lightly and she leaned away in question, but he just smiled. "Shall we go open our presents? It is Christmas after all."

With all that had happened in the past couple of hours, Hermione had completely forgotten what day it was and quickly shook herself so she could ground herself in the moment. "Of course." She replied, "Merry Christmas Aberforth."

Up next is Chapter 25: The New Arrangement