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Summary
There wasn’t any logical reason for Hermione to feel the way she did. After all, they won. Voldemort was defeated. She saw his dead body with her own eyes—he was just as any other man killed in this unnecessary war. The only difference was that he spent his pathetic life maiming his soul in pursuit of immortality. All that bloodshed just to die by the age of seventy-one.
People changed. Life went on. Harry and Ron coped with the trauma by blocking their memories. Hermione, on the other hand, couldn't stop trying to figure out a way that could have changed the number of casualties of the war or stop it altogether.
Well, there was one possibility. A ritual, found in an antique book.
It wasn’t time traveling, specifically; no, the way Hermione would describe it would be in terms of mind traveling.
Or possession.
What could possibly go wrong?
or
In attempt to travel back in time to her second year, Hermione accidentally ends up in 1950.