Hero of the Story || James Potter x Hermione Granger Fanfiction

epilogue | how rare and beautiful it is that we exist

epilogue.

how rare and beautiful it is that we exist

(Saturn by Sleeping at Last)

__________

July 31, 1991

"Are you really sure about this, Hermione?"

The worry in his voice was thick, and despite the humongous nervousness she was feeling, Hermione managed to crack a small smile. "Really? You're asking that now when we're practically a few blocks away already?"

Peter threw a withering glare.

Hermione's smile wobbled, her heart thudding wildly inside her chest as the various, familiar houses lining the quaint street in Heathgate passed by them. Her tongue grew thicker with each step she took, and although a part of her still doubted this was a good idea, her curiosity trumped the nervousness she was feeling.

"Harry just received his Hogwarts letter," she softly explained. "I just thought... well, I got really curious." She sighed and reached for Peter, hooking her arm around his. "I wanted to see for myself. I've wondered about it for years and today just seemed like a good day to finally see it for myself."

"It's my godson's birthday, blimey," Peter whined. "There are plenty of other days to do this, Hermione."

She lightly pinched him on his arm, earning her an annoyed scowl from her older brother. "We were on the way," she pointed out. "Just... just stop making a fuss. It won't even take an hour."

Peter blessedly relented, although he still wore his petulant scowl. Underneath his annoyance, though, Hermione could see the deep worry he had for his sister. She squeezed his arm in appreciation, silently relaying her gratitude that he was accompanying her today.

As they continued to walk along one of the lovely streets of the Hampstead Garden Suburb, Hermione took that time to observe her surroundings. It was a beautiful summer's day, with the sun high in the sky without any clouds in sight. Her eyes slightly watered upon spying the familiar playground she used to frequent as Hermione Granger, the place filled with laughing children being chased around by their exasperated parents. They passed by the park bench Harold Granger used to sit with her on, and the father-daughter pair would observe the passers-by in contented silence. Up ahead, at the crossroads, stood the imposing church the Grangers used to go to, before they discovered their daughter was a witch.

The whole place was exactly how she remembered. Although memories of Hermione Granger were now incredibly blurry in the brunette's mind, it flummoxed her greatly how she could still remember the place she'd once called home.

Her heart leapt into her throat as she finally drew to a halt, standing in front of a handsome lawn filled with rows and rows of flowery bushes. A soft laugh escaped from her lips, spying the ridiculously ugly gnome Harold Granger was very fond of, nestled in between blooming bushes of sunflowers.

"Everything's... everything's the same," she breathlessly said, her watery eyes taking in the brown brick-walled exterior of the house.

"Are you okay?" Peter worriedly asked, squeezing her elbow to get her attention.

Hermione tore her gaze away from the house and glanced at her brother. "I-I don't know," she slightly stuttered. Her heart felt heavy, overwhelmed by an onslaught of emotions she could never make sense of. Tears slipped down from her eyes as she turned her gaze back towards the house, reminiscing about insignificant memories of Hermione Granger strolling around this home.