4. [Sunrise.]
eclecticmuses :: Sunrise
It felt strange to see the first bits of morning light peeking through the windows of the Great Hall. It should have been a monumental feeling, the breaking of a new dawn after the war - it should've been an acknowledged metaphor at least, but she felt empty somehow. The year had been draining, both physically and emotionally - she felt a swell of energy sweep through her earlier when she destroyed the horcrux trapped within the cup from Hufflepuff, and another brief surge when she found herself leaping into Ronald's arms. But, once the wands had been drawn and the last spell cast, she felt a mixture of relief and fatigue overtake her, leaving her dull to the little things that she would've otherwise found smart and metaphorical.
The Great Hall was the root of activity for most of the night. There were moments of exchanged cries of victory woven into the grieving for those lost. She often felt herself pulled into the embrace of the Weasleys who wept over the loss of Fred and the return of Percy. She felt the occasional shy grasp of Ronald's hand around hers. Though they were her second family, she felt as though she was intruding on something private and dear, and perhaps she was feeling the pangs of longing for her own family. The other third of their trio was harder to locate. She would take note of Harry standing in one place receiving a pat on the back, to then glance again only to have lost him completely. She wondered if he felt numb or if perhaps he was coasting through on high of victory and accomplishment. She also caught herself wondering if Harry's scar still hurt in some sort of phantom pain. She wanted to ask him these questions because she felt she could ask Harry if his scar hurt while she didn't feel she could ask Ronald in words how he felt at the moment. However, her two best friends were too lost in their own respective moments to take questions from her, which was probably best for everyone involved.
There were some people wandering in the direction of their respective houses, because regardless of being a student of now or old, Hogwarts would always be home. The party - she assumed, if there was one - was in the Room of Requirement with Neville playing host. But, she didn't go off in search of a four-poster bed in Gryffindor tower or for a leftover pint of butterbeer. No, instead she felt herself completely grounded, seated on the floor with her back resting against the far wall of the Great Hall. She found herself staring, straight ahead to the professors' table and to the podium standing in the middle, unattended. McGonagall, she decided, would wear the title of Headmistress well and perhaps develop a certain twinkle in her eye. But, at the moment, the podium stood vacant, and she found herself lost, displaced without a sense of direction or a guide to follow. However, her eyes were greeted with those initial rays of sunlight, the first peek of sunrise, and though she was too tired and overwhelmed to recognize it just yet, it was the dawn of a new day for Hermione Granger.
It felt strange to see the first bits of morning light peeking through the windows of the Great Hall. It should have been a monumental feeling, the breaking of a new dawn after the war - it should've been an acknowledged metaphor at least, but she felt empty somehow. The year had been draining, both physically and emotionally - she felt a swell of energy sweep through her earlier when she destroyed the horcrux trapped within the cup from Hufflepuff, and another brief surge when she found herself leaping into Ronald's arms. But, once the wands had been drawn and the last spell cast, she felt a mixture of relief and fatigue overtake her, leaving her dull to the little things that she would've otherwise found smart and metaphorical.
The Great Hall was the root of activity for most of the night. There were moments of exchanged cries of victory woven into the grieving for those lost. She often felt herself pulled into the embrace of the Weasleys who wept over the loss of Fred and the return of Percy. She felt the occasional shy grasp of Ronald's hand around hers. Though they were her second family, she felt as though she was intruding on something private and dear, and perhaps she was feeling the pangs of longing for her own family. The other third of their trio was harder to locate. She would take note of Harry standing in one place receiving a pat on the back, to then glance again only to have lost him completely. She wondered if he felt numb or if perhaps he was coasting through on high of victory and accomplishment. She also caught herself wondering if Harry's scar still hurt in some sort of phantom pain. She wanted to ask him these questions because she felt she could ask Harry if his scar hurt while she didn't feel she could ask Ronald in words how he felt at the moment. However, her two best friends were too lost in their own respective moments to take questions from her, which was probably best for everyone involved.
There were some people wandering in the direction of their respective houses, because regardless of being a student of now or old, Hogwarts would always be home. The party - she assumed, if there was one - was in the Room of Requirement with Neville playing host. But, she didn't go off in search of a four-poster bed in Gryffindor tower or for a leftover pint of butterbeer. No, instead she felt herself completely grounded, seated on the floor with her back resting against the far wall of the Great Hall. She found herself staring, straight ahead to the professors' table and to the podium standing in the middle, unattended. McGonagall, she decided, would wear the title of Headmistress well and perhaps develop a certain twinkle in her eye. But, at the moment, the podium stood vacant, and she found herself lost, displaced without a sense of direction or a guide to follow. However, her eyes were greeted with those initial rays of sunlight, the first peek of sunrise, and though she was too tired and overwhelmed to recognize it just yet, it was the dawn of a new day for Hermione Granger.