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Sleep
02/01/1978 – The Burrow – 9:00am
Hermione felt bad about lying to her friends – of course she did. She had to, she wasn't even supposed to be in this timeline. She was supposed to be at 12 Grimmuald Place with Harry, Ron, Ginny and Luna. But no, the world had to be a bitch and send her to 1977, where she's redoing her seventh year. Where she's friends with Lily fucking Evans and the fucking marauders!
She sighed and got out of bed. She was staying at the burrow – even though she protested – not in Paris. Dumbledore said she couldn't leave in case he found a solution. She let a snort – people don't go back to the future; they live out their lives in the past until it's the time they left. But that's for a couple of hours.
"Maybe I can pull a sleeping beauty and sleep her forever until it's 1998 again," she mused as she was getting dressed. That was a pipe dream though – it could never happen; she would surely die.
The day passed in a blur – like usual; Taking care of the kids; writing letters to James, Sirius, Remus and Peter; cooking; homework; playing with the kids; helping Molly; giving Arthur guidance on the muggle world; and much more. When it was – fucking finally – time to hit the hay, she almost went to bed in her day clothes. But she couldn't sleep, there were too many thoughts running in her head.
Did Harry and Ron and Ginny and Luna realise she was gone?
Why was she sent here?
Would she ever return?
How much was she changing the future?
Shut the fuck up, she told herself. You need sleep.
You need sleep…
Need sleep…
Sleep…