Chapter 1

Hermione stared listlessly at the castle before her, now just a shadow of its former glory. The battle had taken its toll on the once grand building she had called home for so long, but then, who hadn't been affected by it? At least the building could be rebuilt. There had been far too many lives lost that would never be returned. The people around her were unusually quiet as they stood just within the gates of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, all that was to be heard was the occasional sniffle. She assumed that most people here were thinking along the same lines as her and she knew that, had she not been so numb, she would have joined in the sniffling. But she was numb, and so she could not have forced tears even if she had wanted to.

It was funny in a morbid sort of way, the irony of it all. This should be a joyous time, full of excitement and cheer. The war was over! Voldemort was gone! Most of the Death Eaters had either been killed during the battle or rounded up right after. It was safe in the wizarding world once again! Harry Potter had done what he needed to do and was alive and safe to tell the tale, but even he had seemed morose over the past week since it all had come to an end. And the Weasleys had been mourning the loss of one of their own, their Fred. No, although victory was achieved and there was no more threat, no one had come out of it whole. Everyone had missing pieces and scars that needed to heal. No one was truly, fully happy.

Add to that the fact that she had kissed her best friend in the middle of the battle and he now seemed to be avoiding her, choosing instead to hang out with his ex-girlfriend, just one more thing to think about and worry over in the days following the climactic end to a tale that had really begun years before she was even thought of. And all of the conflicting emotions were just too much to deal with. So Hermione had become numb. Numbness was the only way she could seem to deal with it all at the moment.

Living with the Weasleys and Harry at the Burrow for the past week hadn't helped, it had only seemed to drive her further toward it. She hadn't had much to do but sit and watch as the people around her grieved their loss, each in their own way, and miss her own parents and worry over whether she would ever be able to return their memories to them. When Professor McGonagall had shown up at the Burrow the night before, saying that a group was going to the school the next day to begin rebuilding and repairing the damage done in the battle, Hermione had jumped at the chance to go. She had needed to get out of there more than anything. She had needed to do something useful.

And so here she was, standing in front of the broken down building, unable to equate what she saw with what she remembered so clearly from six years of attending the school.

A hand on her shoulder made her turn her gaze away from the damaged castle to see Professor McGonagall standing beside her, a deep sadness in her eyes as she stared ahead. "I never would have imagined that Hogwarts could be brought to this," the professor said, the same sadness in her eyes lacing her voice. Hermione pursed her lips and reached up with a hand to cover the elder woman's. She had never seen her professor like this. She was sure if she hadn't been feeling so numb, it probably would have unnerved her. As it was, the small gesture of attempted comfort was the most she could muster within herself to do.

Professor McGonagall looked at her with a small smile that didn't reach her eyes. "There is a lot of work to do. We had best be getting to it." And with that she began walking toward the castle. Everyone else slowly followed behind. They split into groups to go into different parts of the castle and assess the damage.

Hermione followed along with her group, adding her thoughts where needed, but mostly remaining silent. If anyone noticed the stark difference in her attitude and personality, nobody mentioned it. Nobody was really behaving as they normally would anyway.

Her numbness and apathy that had grown steadily over the past week remained firmly in place until they reached the place that had once been her sanctuary in the school, the library. It was there, as she looked over the destruction of overturned tables and chairs, fallen bookshelves, and ripped and torn books lying scattered about the room that her carefully constructed walls finally cracked and she knew they would break before too long. She only hoped that she could get herself alone before they finally did.

Fighting back the tears that threatened to spill, she listened without actually hearing as her group decided what needed to be done in the library. They debated for far too long in her opinion, as she wanted nothing more than to be alone at that moment and could find no means of escape without drawing attention to herself. Finally, finally they began to move on, but Hermione silently remained behind, sneaking into the vast room she had spent so many of her school days exploring.

As soon as the sounds of her group faded away, she allowed her carefully constructed walls of apathy and numbness to break. Slumping against the nearest wall, her whole body shook with the sobs of mourning she had not allowed following the battle until this moment. She knew it was silly, allowing a thing like the library to finally be that breaking point, but she was crying for much more than just that. She mourned the dead, she cried for the pain of the injured, she felt for the people mourning their loved ones, she missed her parents, she grieved for the loss of her childhood, as well as that of so many others her age.

She wasn't sure how long she had stayed there, grieving everything she had kept bottled up inside. When she finally came out of the fog of her grief she saw that the sun was still shining, though she wasn't sure where it was in the sky. Her stomach growled, indicating it must be past lunchtime, but she found she couldn't bring herself to care. She was just thankful no one had come to look for her, allowing her to grieve on her own, though she was sure they had realized she was missing by now. Duty called out to her again. It wasn't right to make them worry.

With a sigh, she pulled herself up off the floor and looked over the library once more, before deciding that taking a quick walk through it, to see exactly how badly it had been damaged, wouldn't hurt. So she began carefully watching her step along the way as she toured through the shelves and tables and chairs and books that were strewn about the room. It wasn't until she reached the entrance to the restricted section that she paused for a moment as she looked at the ground before her. There, outside the entrance was a book that she would never forget, the first book she had ever touched from the restricted section. It must have been hit by a curse during the battle, though it looked to still be intact.

She couldn't keep herself from reaching out to it, momentarily allowing a smile at the reminder of her first attempt at youthful rebellion. If she had known then what the future held for her, maybe that small act wouldn't have meant so much to her then. But she could honestly say now that she was glad her twelve-year-old self hadn't been aware of what was to come. No amount of warning could have prepared her.

She didn't have time to contemplate these thoughts any further, however, as the moment she touched the book a blinding light surrounded her, before all went black.

A/N: First of all, thank you so much to those of you who reviewed! I'm really excited to get going with this story. I'm enjoying writing it so I really hope all of you enjoy reading it! I know it may seem a little slow at first, but I wanted to give a good idea of where Hermione's mental state is. Next chapter Hermione wakes up in the past! I'll have it posted soon, hopefully! Be sure to let me know what you think.