Disclaimer: Mr. H. Potter and the universe in which he resides belongs not to me, but to it's author J.K Rowling.

Chapter 2

May 4 1998

Well, this is exciting, thought Hermione, as she thumbed through her borrowed copy of that morning's Prophet, skipping the ten-page interview section with herself, Ron and Harry.
The more interesting news was that finally, in the year 2004, democracy would come to Wizarding Britain for good. Moreover, it seemed the only part of the Ministry set to remain relatively unchanged by the war was the Department of Mysteries.

The Minister has laid out his basic plan in the paper, and merely glancing at it was enough to confirm to anyone that the one unforeseen eventuality of victory was the idealism and will for change brought into being by Kingsley Shacklebolt. The plan was ambitious and rather grandly idealistic, but perfectly doable if everyone worked together.

The Commission for Reconstruction would map the war damage and rebuild or reform things where needed, or decommission and relinquish lands back to the Muggles where appropriate. The Commission for the Creation and Expansion of Safe Spaces would seek out new ground to set up all-wizarding communities, a necessity to appease those who agreed with basic Death Eater sentiment but not method (a sizeable portion of the populace, especially now that the other side had been... pruned) along with the more staunch isolationist factions that resided on all sides of the conflict depending on their views on how to best achieve magical isolation. New and larger habitats for magical creatures would also be opened, creating both employment and ample opportunity for Britain to become a world leader in a number of research fields as the flora and fauna available would multiply.

The Minister himself would find and hire people, and the commissions would be the practical foundation for a completely changed Ministry of Magic, complete with a new Constitution anchored by more than just the Statute of Secrecy.
Professor Minerva McGonagall would be in charge of a separate commission to overhaul the education system, and it was noted by her in the Prophet already that this new system would include at least some primary education, and that the Hogwarts curriculum would include some fields of interest to both wizards and muggles, so as to make it easier for people to integrate into the muggle world if they wish upon completion of their education. Hogwarts would open again, but sadly not for quite some time. The magic around the castle and grounds would need a thorough reworking.

'We have fought long for reforms and revisions, and we have tried to salvage a corrupt system again and again. The war has broken that system beyond repair. The time for radical change has come upon us. Let us put the past behind us and focus on building a better future together. I hope and believe that a time of lasting peace has now come, and that we will all work together to make it so.' announced Minister Shacklebolt to reporters today at the Ministry of Magic offices in London.

The Commissions would spend a year laying the framework, after which there would be an establishing period for the new Ministry of five years and then the first ever Wizarding Elections would be held, putting in place a new elected portion of the Wizengamot, instating a new Minister for Magic and new Heads of Department.

Regarding the Death Eaters and sympathisers both in and out of custody, it has been ultimately decided by the Minister and his advisors that everyone with ties to Voldemort will be put under house arrest for the time being, with severe restrictions set for their magic. All medical care will of course be provided for.
'The light and the dark both seem distinctly grey under the full light of day, and everyone will be given a second chance in this new society. There will be trials, of course, but they will take quite some time to arrange. Passing judgment will be a low priority for this administration until the safety and comfort of the wizarding world had been secured. The public will be the first priority for me, always.' said Minister Shacklebolt before bidding us adieu to return to his work.

May 5 1998

After an exhausting and unpleasant day of memory extraction the day before, Hermione had a bit of a lie-in. Then, after a quick breakfast she packed up her tent (Gryffindor tower barely stood as it was, and provided absolutely no privacy) and apparated to Diagon Alley. Leaving through the Leaky Cauldron she caught a bus north. Her heart hammered loudly in her ears all the way to the anonymous-looking suburban neighbourhood where she finally stepped off the bus, walked down the street and turned left. Oak Drive, the sign said, barely hanging on to the edge of the precipice on which it stood. There was nothing there. Nothing at all.

The whole street resembled some sort of construction project gone horribly wrong. Hermione gaped at the elongated hole in the ground, stunned by the sheer amount of debris left by what was once her home, now roped off.
'Tragic, isn't it? Gas-leak about 2 months ago. Caused a massive explosion and fire. Killed 17 people, it did.' volunteered a man watering the lawn nearest the corner. Hermione vaguely recognized him, although he, and everything else she looked at, seemed to be floating in a haze on the other end of a long tunnel right then. She felt a prickling sound rushing in her ears. 'There's a whole government investigation going on about it, too. Insurance claims haven't even been confirmed, last I heard. Clearly a gas-leak, but they can't find it anywhere, see? Insult to injury, if you ask me. These people... Good thing you moved when you did, eh?' the man was absentmindedly trimming the hedges opposite the disaster site, peering at her curiously.

Hermione swayed, suddenly dizzy. 17 people? Had the Order forgotten about keeping an eye out for her old home? That could have been her parents. Those were her neighbours. She turned and ran, hardly managing to breathe for the excruciating pain blooming in her chest.

She apparated from a secluded spot near a park onto the steps of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Harry had mentioned that morning that he had decided to return there to survey the damage. She clambered through the stupid hall with the troll foot umbrella stand and the moth-eaten curtains of the portrait of mrs. Black while holding her breath. Her hands shake as she opens the door to the kitchen.

'Harry?' She calls with a shaky voice.
'Hermione! I'm through here.'
'Oh, alright.'
How to tell him?

'I... I've got something I need to talk to you about, Harry. Are you alright?' she added upon seeing the tired young man seated near the lit fire, his gaunt face the picture of grief. He looked so much younger and so much older at the same time somehow, now that his face was clean-shaven again. He hadn't cut his hair, but it was pulled back in a ponytail, accentuating the tired lines in his face.

'The house is... such a mess. Kreacher is gathering up whatever he can, but the place is just... it's going to take a lot to clean up. The Death Eaters tore it apart. And I've been to Gringotts, where they're not too pleased to see me out and about. You remember Travers? The bloke we Imperiused?'he inquired. She nodded.
'Well, that dragon breakout killed him. And 12 goblins as well. 14 people are in hospital.' he fixed her with a pained expression, 'Hermione, I don't know what to do. I've killed them.'
'Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry!' she sat down in a chair next to him, reaching for his hand.
'We had no choice. What could we do? This is how war goes. There are casualties. They're not... it isn't our fault, they're just... casualties of war.'
'How can you be so calm about it? We've killed them!'
'Well, Harry. I just came from my parents house and... Death Eaters blew up my whole street. 17 of my neighbours are dead. I... I am not sure what to be anymore if I can't just be calm about it.'
'Hermione!' The shock and horror on his face says it all.

They sat in silence for a while, staring into the dark wooden table. Everything feels far away, and Hermione suspects, somehow, that only the truth can ground her now, keep her from simply floating away to somewhere even more terrible than the here and now. The truth will anchor her and keep the world form disintegrating entirely. She needs to stay here, stay grounded, stay anchored to the people she loves.

'You know, I don't even miss them that much. I counted it all up and... well, I've spent less than a year with them since I was eleven. Total.'

Harry looked at her, and she crumpled. 'I'm a terrible daughter! I've ruined their life and gotten their neighbours killed! I haven't spent any time with them and I've altered their minds using magic way beyond my skill level, really, and Harry I don't know what to do!'

She sobbed in his arms then, and before long she felt something distinctly tear-like in her hair.

May 6 1998

WAR DEATH TOLL RISES AS MORE GRAVES ARE UNCOVERED

by Edward Mulligan

Ministry officials have so far confirmed the death of more than 400 Muggles, 70 Goblins, and an as-of-yet-undetermined number of witches and wizards. The current count exceeds 700 and is expected to rise as more graves are uncovered across the country and checked against missing persons-lists which Ministry officials are yet compiling.

The public has been advised to notify the Ministry of Magic's War Commission Head Elvira Robbins if they see any suspicious changes in their surroundings that may indicate a magical gravesite.
Mass graves have been confirmed in multiple locations throughout the British Isles as the Ministry has commenced their questioning of surviving Death Eaters, Aurors, and Order of the Phoenix members.
The death toll is expected to rise dramatically as still more interviews are conducted.

'It's really a sad state of affairs. There's been heavy casualties on all sides of the conflict. It's an unprecedented situation.' said Betelgeuse Sinclair, member of the War Commission. 'We're not yet sure about the Magical Creatures as we're still counting human casualties. The Goblins have had their own internal count however, and if it's anything like that... well, we're going to have to take drastic measures. Population numbers are dismal.'

Hermione folded up the paper, sighing. Peace looked decidedly more complicated than she had expected it would.
She was still living in a tent, but alone. Ron was home with his family, where she had decisively declined to join him. They needed time to be together, the Weasleys, without anyone else. That much both her and Harry had agreed on when they made their decision.
Harry was staying at Grimmauld Place, an invitation she had declined with decidedly more guilt. Another pair of hands would probably have been greatly appreciated, but she needed time to think, time to figure out what she would do.

The thing is, she can't sleep. She leaps at every sound, ready to defend herself. Constant vigilance, she often smiles to herself tiredly before drifting off, finally, only to find herself in yet another nightmare. Again and again it happens. There are strange bent bodies, and great snakes twisting out of them before lunging at her. There are Death Eaters throwing curses. There is the rotten breath of Bellatrix Lestrange as she is interrogated, bright lights flashing in her eyes and her nerves on fire like touching hot coals.

May 7 1998

'Where am I? What's happened? Who in the name of Merlin are you?'
'Mrs. Lestrange, it's ... nice to see you've come to. I'm Senior Healer Smithwyck, and you are at a secure specialty ward in St. Mungos. You've been out for 5 days while we've treated a series of injuries and repaired some spell radiation damage here and there.'
'What?'
'Give it a moment, it'll come back to you I'm sure. I explained it before you were given a Sleeping Draught.'

Healer Smithwyck continued trotting about the room, waving her wand in complicated movements around Bellatrix, who just then noticed the series of potions on a table next to her bed.

'Are those for me?'
'I've already administered all of them while you were asleep. The last one just a few minutes ago, you'll be able to feel it soon enough.'
'It feels awful.'
'Indeed.'

It was as if an anvil was lifted off her chest, leaving her with her own feelings, which seemed feeble and colourless when compared to the intense longing she had been carrying with her these past few years. But... she had loved him. She thought she had really loved him. Had she not?
Certainly she had, long ago. Then, Azkaban had made nearly everything disappear and turned the rest all wrong. Some feelings had come back, of course. She still loved her family, Cissy and even Draco. Rodolphus maybe. But perhaps she hadn't... now she thought of it she could not remember ever feeling that particular kind of surge of emotion around the Dark Lord after Azkaban until... until he had offered her some wine the evening after the Department of Mysteries, while she was recovering from her injuries. At Malfoy Manor. She'd always chalked her lack of desire for Him up to dazedness from Azkaban or even an adjustment to his new appearance, but alas it seems her Lord has betrayed her yet again, unknowingly this time. Her Lord, what a joke! What saved her from Azkaban had never been the man she missed. And yet she had wanted that man with a passion beyond anything she had ever felt for anything else. Bellatrix knew now, however, that it had not been love after Azkaban, it had been gratitude.
She turned her head to peer over at the Healer who was busily scribbling on a chart.

'Is Rodolphus alive?'
'Your husband is alive, but he is in very serious condition, I'm afraid.' the Healer said, though she did not sound sorry at all.
'Oh.'

She could try to escape, of course. But she was awfully tired. Tired of running, tired of escaping, tired of fighting. Molly bloody Weasley had nearly done her in, for Merlin's sake. And they had lost. What was the point? She settled more firmly against her pillow.
She had lost long before now, really. This wasn't what she had wanted. She'd wanted him most of all, but the man who freed her wasn't the man she'd gone to prison for anyway. She'd lost everything 17 years ago. Now, she supposed, they'd only keep her alive so they could administer the Kiss.

'I need to address some of your soul damage with you now that you are awake.' Healer Smithwyck addressed her.
'Excuse me?'
'Well, if you'll pardon my assumption it is likely you have soul damage for a variety of other reasons, but I am specifically thinking of Azkaban right now. We are offering all patients recovering from Azkaban some potions to recover. There are several steps. The first is to induce remorse, to start the soul healing from the Dementors. It seems processing what you feel worst about in life is the best route to recovery, and we will have a soul Healer attend to that with you. Best not to let anything painful fester in your heart, you see. After that you will be given various potions to induce a variety of emotions, and go through them with a soul healer as well. Most of those will revolve around dreams, happy memories, and love, so the remorse will be the least pleasant, I expect.'

The Healer peered down at Bellatrix curiously.

'The soul damage interferes with your magic if left unattended, makes it unstable and difficult to control. Tends to mess with the mind, as well. It isn't the best for your mental health to leave it unchecked.'

Healer Smithwyck pulled herself up, and stood directly in front of Bellatrix, considering her.

'I am offering you Essence of Remorse, just like everyone else. It will only begin the process, you must complete it yourself with the Healer if you wish for it to have any effect. Most of our patients were not imprisoned through any fault of their own, and as such their healing wasn't really that difficult. I feel, however, it is my duty to warn you that the process will likely not be as bearable for you. We have Healers here who are willing to guide you through it if you wish. But it is... likely exceedingly difficult and painful.'

'Will it... will it help with the nightmares?'
'Nightmares? Not at first, but later on I expect it will.'
'I'll do it then.'

At least they aren't chucking me back in there, Bellatrix thought. So long as they don't put me back there I think I could bear anything.

May 8 1998

It took all her influence and all her anger and willpower and persuasion but finally Hermione managed to secure a meeting with Bellatrix Lestrange at St. Mungos, having been warned that the Death Eater is on some sort of potion causing her to be less than lucid. But Hermione has gathered all her courage to do this because she needs the answers she expects only Bellatrix has, so she goes to see her anyway.

'Are my parents alive?' she demanded with a plethora of Aurors looking on from every corner of the room. Bellatrix, magically restrained and face contorted in rage, grief and pain, confirmed that no one had attempted to find them as far as she knew. The Death Eater seemed completely out of her mind, as usual, thrashing wildly in seeming pain. Nevertheless, she manages to inform Hermione that once the house had been located and searched it had become clear the Trio had not spent any time there. It had, as such, subsequently been disposed of and the hunt for the Trio had continued elsewhere.

'Your filthy muggles were beneath our consideration.' Bellatrix smugly informed Hermione in a lucid moment before promptly crumbling again and Hermione almost curses her, but instead she storms out relieved and infuriated in equal measure. She is shaking but is uncertain if it is really an emotional response or simply the after-effects of the Cruciatis session she once received at the hands of Lestrange herself. She hardens at the feel of the criss-cross of scars that have thankfully faded from their angry red to a silvery sort of colour, and hopes secretly that Azkaban reopens to lock Bellatrix away forever.

But regardless of all that, Hermione can at least continue with her plans now.

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