I told myself I won't start another fic until my previous one is complete but alas that never happens.
This one takes a very different approach to 'Bad Impressions', so it's definitely not light-hearted. It's a bit slow in the early chapters but will pick up later. I hope you enjoy!
Deltiology
noun
1. The collection and study of postcards.
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Hermione began collecting postcards whenever she travelled as an inexpensive way to buy souvenirs. Another advantage of postcards is that they don't take up much space, and can slide inconspicuously into the inner compartment of her suitcase or her passport wallet.
Since arriving to Hogwarts, she had browsed the local shops in the nearby town of Hogsmeade for some postcards unique to the site. She would add them to her collection at home, and analyse the cards in her free time.
Her time at Hogwarts so far had been a worthwhile experience. In just two weeks, she had learnt quite a lot about the university's history, its unique reputation as an educational institute, and the niche subjects it used to cater to. Some of these subjects included the exclusive study of alchemy, the study of folkloric plants and herbs, and a pseudo-scientific subject about transforming objects. There was even a sports game called 'Quidditch' which was played with make-shift broomsticks at the end of semesters. However, the university had to close down about half a century ago after new universities had sprung up nearby, which catered more closely to the modern curriculum. Hogwarts now functioned as a museum and an educational site for seminars and exhibitions.
Back in the castle, she attended a lecture about the antiquity of the library books. In a half-circle around the table with the other students, she skimmed through old textbooks and passed them over to her peers. Their lecturer—an elderly Scottish lady with a stern expression and a tight bun at her nape, explained the significance of the tomes to the castle's history.
She had even gone far as to say that the books held magic within them, and those who chose to read them would surely be affected by it. Hermione had found the notion amusing, and if anything, it spurred her to read the books at every given chance when not busy with other events. She had even 'claimed' her own nook in the library at the desk behind one of the grand bookshelves, where she would set up her laptop and study folders.
It had been two weeks of attending lectures, seminars, and welcoming parties, but finally, after yet another long day, Hermione was back in her own room. She sits upon her bed and texts her parents and her best friends Harry and Ron of the day's events. This was her last day, and tomorrow she would be home.
Hermione gets up and heads over to the adjoined bathroom. Taking her ring off by the side of the sink, she washes off the dirt and grime encrusted in the whorls of her thumbs and fingers, giving extra care to scrub under her fingernails. Grey dirt mixed with the lukewarm water and slid down the basin. Turning off the tap, she dries her hands on the towel and heads back into her room to pack her suitcase.
Despite the castle's imposing image as an almost ancient site with numerous empty hallways, rooms, and sections closed off as 'forbidden', she had never once felt out of place during her stay. It was as though the castle had beckoned to her, and made efforts to accommodate her in every way. She will miss her time here, but will at least take home the enjoyable memories with her.