Second Chances

Hermione sat by the fire watching the flames flicker up the chimney. Occasionally a log would make a hissing sound as it cracked. She was lost in thought as she held a cup of steaming tea between her hands, the sleeves of her jumper were pulled down to protect her palms. Her legs were out to the side of her and her cat sat on them, in what she assumed was its way of trying to comfort her.

She did need comforting, though you wouldn’t know it to look at her. To the rest of the world she appeared to be a happy, fulfilled young woman. Succeeded at everything she did, worked hard and kept herself out of trouble, now anyway. Now it was all over, or as over as it ever would be. The Dark Lord may be gone but evil still existed, always would exist.

She had success in her career, bucketfuls in fact. Gone from a store manager at Flourish and Blotts to owning her own bookstore in a year, with Harry’s backing of course. She wouldn’t have succeeded otherwise. She had the brains and the commitment but not the finances.

No, in all honesty she should feel all the happiness and contentment that everyone thought she did but sadly for her it wasn’t so. She could fain it throughout the day though it tired her to do so. But when she got home and the night drew in she couldn’t hide behind account books or a shiny counter. She had to look in the mirror and take stock of everything. She wasn’t happy, she was alone.

Harry and Ron were off living their lives in a way they wanted now they were finished with ‘the mission.’ Hermione had concentrated so hard the mission, ignoring everything and everyone else to a degree that when it stopped, when it was over, there was nothing else left. She had her friends but they were all off building their own havens, making their own lives while she sat in limbo waiting for something, anything, to happen.

A knock on her door brought her out of her musings. She put her cup down on the hearth and forced a rather lethargic, and fat if she was honest, cat of her legs and climbed to her feet, walking off the pins and needles that she had been unaware of before. She got to her door and unbolted it, turning the handle and opening it before she thought that maybe such a bold move could be dangerous.

She looked at the man on her doorstep, her heart starting to beat hard against her ribs and her hand on the door handle trembled. She drew a breath about to scream when he stepped forward, pressing his hand over her mouth and forcing her back into her kitchen. She struggled casting her eyes around for her wand. She could see it poking out of the top of her bag on the kitchen surface. She tried forcing him away but he trapped her against his chest with an arm around her upper back. She kicked out at him, catching his shin. He swore and his grip on her loosened enough for her to fight out of his clutches.

She moved for her bag, stumbling across her kitchen and hit her breakfast bar a little faster then she meant to. She fumbled in her bag, cursing herself for allowing her guard so slip so far. She heard his words as his uttered a spell she knew well, she felt a dull thud as it hit her back and then saw no more as she slipped down the counter and into oblivion.