Chapter Text
Hermione looked around her. The place she had called home for the last seven years was nothing but piles of smouldering rubble. She couldn't believe the castle had fallen. But she was alive, as were many of the people who stayed. More importantly, she was alive.
Turning around, she watched her from a distance, moving around, helping out where she could, and comforting those who allowed it. As if sensing she was being watched, she looked up. Even from her higher position, Hermione could see the question arch of her brow. For the first time since meeting the woman, she didn't answer her; instead she turned back around and looked up at the sky. It didn't take her long to join her on the hill near the fallen Great Hall.
"How long until you have it rebuilt?"
"No more than three months. It'll be open for the new school year."
Nodding Hermione continued to look at the many stars lighting up the night sky. As she watched a star fall across the ruins, she sent a silent pray up to the heavens.
Protect my heart.
"I didn't expect to survive this war."
"So your letter said."
Pursing her lips, Hermione gave a soft nod, "So, it did stop." She spoke softly, a smirk forming as she continued, "Good to know I can do that even when be fired at." The empty laugh that fell from her lips surprised the older woman.
"Miss Granger-"
Hermione shook her head, "Don't."
Minerva looked at her, green eyes shining in the moonlight. "Surely-" She started, her voice lilting gently.
"I did not expect to survive, that is the only reason you know." Hermione repeated, turning to look at her with a cool gaze, "It was a nothing more than a courtesy letter, to know that someone cares. You don't need to give the list of reasons why it would never work, or how you don't return my feelings," She gave an empty laugh, "I have thought of them all. I have had the conversation countless times."
"Hermione, you must understand-"
"I understand, I just don't wish to talk about it."
After her sharp response, neither spoke, for which the younger witch was glad for. She stared at the rubble in front of them, silently contemplating whether not she wished to return when Hogwarts re-opened.
"I cannot return your feelings, Hermione."
Even though Hermione knew this would be Minerva's answer, it still didn't stop her heart from aching. The young witch turned on her heel and with a faint pop, she disappeared.
At first glance, Hermione had no idea where she was. Letting her eyes adjust to the darkness, she realised she was standing in the alley near a restaurant she had visited when she was younger. Ending up in the alley she got lost in all those years ago was not all that surprising, it was one of her scarier memories, getting lost and separated from her parents. Well, it had been.
Slumping against the dirty wall beside her, she tried to hold back a sob. She had known that would be the result of her letter, but she had hoped that she would follow her wishes and not bring it up. She had overestimated the Professor. And that was what hurt the most, not the rejection, although that hurt, but the fact that the one person she trusted not to intentionally hurt her, had. Covering her mouth, her shoulder shook with the force of her crying. The only thing keeping her upright was the wall.
"Hello?"
Hermione froze; her next cry stuck her in throat at the unexpected voice.
"Is anyone there?"
Although the voice was soft, Hermione had learned not to blindly trust someone, especially not when in a country she had only been to once before.
"I said," Came the voice, now threatening and very close, "Is someone there?"
Hermione screamed as a ball of fire lit up the dim alley a few feet away. Wand automatically in her hand and pointing in front of her, hex on the tip of her tongue, she paused when the flame was not hurled towards her. When her eyes adjusted, she saw that standing not too far in front of her was a middle aged woman with short hair and piercing brown eyes. For a tense moment, neither moved nor spoke, but assessed the other. She wore a smart pant suit with heels. 'Not the most practical thing to fight in.' Hermione wouldn't admit it, but when she finally noticed that the flame was not being produced by a wand, but was floating above a gloved hand, she was in awe.
"Who are you?" The mysterious woman asked again.
Eyes narrowing, Hermione spoke just as quietly, "Hermione."
"No last name?"
"No."
Red lips pursed, "Lower that stick."
"Do you think I'm stupid?" Hermione scoffed, tightening her grip on her wand.
"You have a stick, what can you do? Poke me with it?" The lady sneered.
Brows arching, Hermione gave a wave of her hand and hissed, "Diffindo!"
Not even a second later, a bright white light shot from the end of her wand and flew past the woman's head. It lit up her surprised face, allowing Hermione to see that the other woman's eyes were a much darker brown than her own. The wide eyes flicked to where a lock of hair hand been hanging, now lying on the dirty ground beside her.
"Do not think I am defenceless." Hermione sneered, pointing her wand at the other woman's chest, directly above her heart.
The pair stood like that for some time, just watching the other to see if they would try anything else. Finally, after what seemed like a life time, the other woman relaxed, the ball of fire dying out without the woman's magic to fuel it. She held out her hand for Hermione to take, a small smirk turning her painted lips up.
"I'm Regina."
Little over a week later, Hermione and Regina were sitting in front of a small café enjoying a coffee together. Since their meeting in the alley way that night, Hermione had stayed with Regina in her apartment, transfiguring the stylish white sofa into a bed each night, not that she slept in it for long. Every night, Hermione would wake from nightmares. It had taken her some time, but Regina had finally gotten the girl to open up about what was haunting her. She had not been expecting to be told about a war and how she had been on the front line when the battle had started. As she listened to the young lady spin her tale of horrors, she knew she was missing something. Now though, looking over the rim of her cup, she knew what it was, she had seen the same expression on her own face every time she looked in the mirror.
Heartbreak.
'Who could hurt this girl?' She thought to herself, watching the younger woman absentmindedly stir her coffee for the millionth time.
"You know," Regina started off casually, "You don't have to be in so much pain."
Hermione looked up, confusion colouring her usual blank expression. "I'm not in pain."
Smiling slightly to cover up her nervousness, she looked the girl in the eye, "You cannot hide Hermione, not to someone who has lost the same thing, many times over." At Hermione's frown, she sighed and shook her head, her short hair swishing lightly, "I know a way to dull the pain you're feeling."
"How?"
"By removing your heart." She watched the girl across from her closely as she absorbed the information.
"By removing my…heart." She repeated slowly, a deep frown forming, "But that's impossible. You'd die."
Regina relaxed some, "You and I have a different understanding of magic. Where I'm from, magic can do anything." She explained, twisting her hand to create a large cupcake to appear in front of Hermione.
"But there are laws, limitations."
Regina shook her head, "You are bound by what you've been taught."
"But how?" Hermione asked, staring at the "How do you do it?"
"The difference between you and I dear is I create magic, you have it."
That night, after waking up from another nightmare of Minerva torturing her, she made up her mind to take Regina up on her offer. Starting tomorrow, she would learn to make her magic and remove her heart.