───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── what about the plans we made? ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
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PLAYLIST i. when the party's over, billie eilish ii. k., cigarettes after sex iii. tv, billie eilish iv. for lovers, lamp v. slow fade, ruth b. vi. clara, makai vii. nothing new, taylor swift viii. don't let me go, cigarette after sex ix. my tears ricochet, taylor swift
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Inside the taxi was warm, heavy rain pelting against the window panes as the vehicle skidded past the busy downtown streets and into an urban neighborhood. Nothing had really changed, except Hermione, of course. Besides her, everything else had remained as it was, comfortingly faithful. It may have felt like an eternity since the last time she was on these streets but it had to have been only a few months. It was hard to tell.
Hermione had never intended to return after the war. She never thought she'd live to feel all these things she was now feeling, back at her old home, in her old life, beyond Hogwarts, beyond the war. Somehow she believed that the war would leave not just the wizarding world but the muggle world as well utterly bereft. Their victory at the final moments of Voldemort's life (if it can even be called a life) never truly felt as glorious as her mind had promised her — after all the people they had lost in the midst of it, it never felt like a win.
The relief only came flooding to her when Hermione realized she could return to her parents. See, she had obliviated both her mother and father in an effort to keep them as far away from the pain of losing their daughter as possible. She didn't know whether her charm would be reversible but she decided she would figure all of that out once she'd seen her parents — even if they didn't know who she was.
"Here, ma'am?" said the driver, slowing the car in front of a pretty blue house. Hermione gazed out the window with a frown. Everything looked the same except for a sign that stood erect on the soil in the front lawn. This was her house and the sign read "FOR SALE" in furious bold letters.
