Glimmers of Destiny

Can't I spend a day without drama?

It was a beautiful Sunday morning and Hermione woke up with fresh state of mind. She decided she will not let Ron, Zoey, the Daily Prophet or the paparazzi affect her day off from work. She was done crying over Ron. She is now focused on only one mission; it was to get her life back on track.

As she was deciding the same, she saw the condition of her apartment. It was screaming that a depressed lady is lives here. Her first agenda for the day was to get the apartment back to life. She went to the kitchen and prepared herself a good cup of coffee to start the day.

Hermione savored the last drops of her coffee, the warm mug a welcome contrast to the chill that lingered in the air. A satisfied sigh escaped her lips as she glanced around the living room. Gone were the remnants of yesterday's flurry – books overflowing from overflowing shelves, clothes draped precariously over furniture, and empty snack wrappers scattered like fallen leaves. Now, everything was meticulously arranged, its rightful place restored. The morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting playful patterns on the dust-free surfaces. A smile bloomed on Hermione's face, as bright and welcoming as the sunshine itself.

Magic, a flick of her wand, could have accomplished this cleaning feat in a heartbeat. But for Hermione, there was a certain satisfaction in the physical act of scrubbing away the grime, a sense of accomplishment that transcended mere results. It was a ritual, a way to quiet the ever-churning thoughts in her mind, a mini-meditation that left her feeling grounded and centered. With Beyoncé's upbeat tunes providing the soundtrack, the mundane chore had transformed into a self-care session. Little did she knew just one encounter with old arch-nemesis will have such great affect on her daily life.

With the apartment now sparkling clean, it was lunchtime for Hermione. Exhausted from her cleaning endeavors, she sought a good meal to reward her recent triumph. Craving something refreshing and healthy, she opted for a simple omelet paired with a fruit salad. After preparing her meal, she settled in to watch a movie while enjoying her food. Her moments of relaxation were interrupted by the arrival of an unexpected post in her apartment.

An invitation to the Annual War Memorial arrived, and naturally, Hermione found herself listed as one of the esteemed guests. Scheduled for the upcoming Sunday, the war memorial had momentarily slipped Hermione's mind amidst the whirlwind of recent events in her life. Surprised by the timely arrival of the invitation, she was reminded of the solemn occasion awaiting her presence.

Hermione stared at the embossed invitation, the weight of it threatening to tear a hole in her already overflowing lap. Attending this Ministry shindig was supposed to be a no-brainer – a chance to honor fallen comrades and reconnect with old friends. But lately, life had a strange habit of throwing curveballs her way, and this invitation felt like the mother of all pitches.

Blow it off, and the Daily Prophet would have a field day. "The Indifferent Granger Snubs War Heroes!" would be the headline, practically guaranteed. Hermione could picture Rita Skeeter sharpening her quill with a gleeful glint in her eye. Ugh. Attending, however, wasn't much of a prize either. The vultures of the paparazzi would be circling, their beady eyes searching for any hint of a tear or a twitch that could be twisted into a sob story. They'd dissect her every move, hoping to unearth some juicy gossip, some new angle on the whole "Ron situation" to exploit.

Then there was the whole date debacle. Going stag felt tragically "woe-is-me," a walking, breathing advertisement for her recent heartbreak. But bringing someone else? That felt equally inauthentic, a desperate attempt to project normalcy in a life that was anything but. Was she supposed to apparate Krum out of retirement? Maybe trick Harry into a pity date? The whole situation was a social minefield, and frankly, Hermione was just too darn tired to navigate it.