When We Were Beasts

Can't Catch Me Now

It was her wand.
It was her wand.

She didn't know how, or why, but it was hers, and the rush of magic she felt as she grabbed it sent her back to her knees.

Hermione was finally whole again.

Before she allowed herself too much hope, she cast a tentative spell.

"Accio pillow!"

Magic pumped through her veins. The velvet piece of plush flew at her head, and Hermione leapt and squealed with relief, joy, peace.

FInally. Finally.

Quickly, she secured the door with every protection spell she knew.

It was practically humming with energy by the time she was done with it.

After she made sure her wand worked on a grand number of spells, Hermione ate every biscuit, every piece of glistening sliced fruit, every pumpkin pasty, everything in eye sight.

She ate so much she threw up the first time. And then she ate again.

There was magic in the cupboards and the old-fashioned icebox: any item Hermione took was immediately replaced. She could consume to her hearts desire.

After her sixth glass of water, Hermione undressed and threw her uniform into the roaring fire. The flames licked up every scrap.

Good riddance, Hermione thought with a snarl.

Nude, with only a cream colored towel around her body, Hermione padded into the bathroom and placed her fresh clothes on the sink as she adjusted the water temperature.

Quickly, Hermione placed four protection spells around the bath space, in case someone made it though the door.

Hermione moaned as she fell underneath the curtain of hot water.

It was the longest shower of her life, and thanks to the power of magic, the water never lost a degree of heat.

Hermione scrubbed her curls with soap that smelled like jasmine and ginger, and her body with soap that smelled of spearmint.

And then she curled into herself, just enjoying the rhythm of drumming water on her clean, clean skin.

When her fingers were raisins and skin was red and raw from the heat, Hermione dried off and slipped into her new clothes that were molded for her body: a sage green jumper, cotton under garments, light-washed muggle jeans, wool socks, and simple white trainers.

Hermione braided her dripping curls back, finishing it with a satin ribbon she found in the trunk next to a hairbrush.

She finally felt clean. She finally felt like herself.

It was enough to make her giddy, to make her forget for a snapshot second that she wasn't really in Hogwarts.

With a steaming cup of tea in her left hand, Hermione flicked her wand and sent eleven books floating onto the rug in front of her, her legs tucked underneath her on the leather couch closest to the fireplace.

Four of the books were on wandless magic.
Three on the history of magical illusions.
Two on herbs and magical medicine.
One on Hogwarts and it's history.
And the last was The Tales of Beetle the Bard.

With a flick, Hermione floated the first one towards her and began to read.