Things My Heart Used to Know

War does not determine who is right–only who is left.



During the cold, hopeless nights of the war, Hermione liked to imagine what her life would be like after their side came out victorious. History is written by the victors, after all. She spun a happy tale for herself with a boy she loved.

Though now that she’s here, her story would read more like a tragedy.

The celebrations were grand, the parties and ceremonies dotted with tired smiles and laughter from her friends turned comrades turned acquaintances. Happiness took place all around her, all the while the spirit she once held so steadfastly melted, slowly dripping into the ground beneath her feet until she was hollow. Hermione tried to be polite in her grief, she didn’t want to ruin it for everyone.