My Heart Remembers Differently

Finding Normal

Professor McGonagall had taken it upon herself to get my supplies for my seventh and final year at Hogwarts.  I knew that the castle would be filling with returning and first year students by the end of the day.  I pulled my bushy hair back into a French braid and pulled on my new robes.  I was startled at the thin, pale face staring back at me.  After all the sleeping I had done in the past weeks, I still had dark circles under my eyes. 

I winced after I pinched my cheeks to add some color.  Great.  That didn't give me the look I was going for.  Instead, I look like someone had pinched my cheeks.  I rolled my eyes and cleaned up my toiletries from the bathroom sink.  Tonight it would be full of giggling girls and the smell of so many different lotions and hair products that my nose would tingle.  Part of me was excited about the prospect and another was sad to be losing my solitude.  I walked back into the bedroom area and put away my items.

"Ms. Granger?"  Professor McGonagall called me from the common room.  I smoothed my hands over my tight braid and went out to meet her.

"Good morning, Professor."  I said with a smile.  I could see her mind was on Hogwarts' business with the hurried way she moved towards me.

"Ms. Granger.  Hermione."  She said focusing on my face and clucking her tongue.  "You still look pale, dear."  She told me honestly. 

"I am sure being back in the swing of things will bring my color back, Professor."  I offer.

"You are taking your potion?"  She asked.  I nodded.  "Good.  I would have sent you a letter normally, but I thought since you are already here, I would relay the news myself."  She said lacing her fingers together. I waited for her to gather her thoughts.  She frowned as she looked around the common room as if she were already imagining it full of students causing a lot of noise, mischief and clutter.

"What news, Professor?"  I bring her attention back to me.  I am hungry for my breakfast and notice it has been set out at one of the tables for me.  Professor McGonagall blinked at me as if she had forgotten the purpose of her visit.

"What?  Oh, yes.  The news.  You are Head Girl, this year.  Your things will be moved into the private dormitory this afternoon.  I wanted to show you where it is located and to give you the password."  Professor McGonagall informed me in a matter-of-fact tone.  I am shocked and I look around the common room of the Gryffindor tower that has been my home the past few weeks and feel a sense of loss.

"Professor, I am honored, of course, but I---"  I couldn't speak because of the lump in my throat.  I blinked back tears.

"Now.  Now,  Ms. Granger. Hermione."  Professor McGonagall grasped my shoulders in her firm grip which I am sure she considered comforting.  "Hermione, you are the brightest witch Hogwarts has seen in many years.  This year is your last with us.  I want you to enjoy your time and focus on your future that is brighter than you can know.  The quiet of the Head student's dormitory will be a great place for you to study and work on your assignments without the interference of, er, others."  She assured me.  I knew that she was talking about Ron and Harry.  Could we possible get through a year without someone trying to kill us? 

Ron and Harry.  My heart clinched.  I would miss them so much.  Would it seem like school without them trying to pull me into some scheme that would get me expelled or killed?  I looked longingly at the couch where I had taken many naps these past few weeks and the folded, knitted blanket on the back of it that I had curled up with and watched the fire as if it held the answers I was seeking.

"I suppose we all have to grow up at some point."  I said a little more sadly than I meant to.  Professor McGonagall patted me on the shoulder and I followed her out of the Gryffindor Tower.  We walked past the Prefects' private bath and up to the third floor.  I paused as I passed a familiar door where a three-headed dog had almost ate Ron, Harry and me for dinner during our first year.