Who: Hermione Granger UKR and Peter Pettigrew Squib What: Random interactions. Toss things in a blender and see if they go together. Oil and Vinegar or ...something that mixes well...? When: Evening, December 5 Where: Ski Lodge-Compound, sitting area by the windows overlooking the snow Status: Incomplete Rating: Probably low. I can't see Hermione trying to kill him...
The journal open on her lap told her that it had been two months since she had arrived, one month if you didn't count the compound of repetition that they'd been stuck in, which Hermione... wasn't certain that she did. She had barely gotten a full understanding of this place before she'd been swept away, which left her feeling generally unsettled, but Ginny was here, and now Cho was here in addition to Dudley and Draco who... yes, right now she wasn't going to get into that. That was complicated and messy and she still didn't really know... well... anything. But coming back to a compound that had been transformed into this pristeen setting...
It was moments like this that Hermione wondered just how broken she was. How much had the war changed her. This place looked very similar to one that her parents had taken her to years before. And the snow outside the window she was looking through looked played in but calm. And all she could think about was how things could go wrong. What snow could do when you were trying to do recon. Thoughts of her parents that had been pushed aside in the last years seemed to run back, and she didn't know what to do with them.
For what seemed the first time in a long time there was just that... Time. She'd noted it in her entry when they'd flipped here, and it held true. And while there had been significant amounts of downtime back home, it had never been like this. It was always a layer on top of the bomb that they knew was going to explode. But here... it just seemed to go on. And she wasn't certain what to do with it. It was something that she'd thought about for a long time, but life after the war, at least when she was from, seemed a pipe dream. And now all there was was time. And quiet. And for as much as she'd wanted it over the years she didn't know how to acclimate to it. She remembered how. But remembering and knowing were two very different things.
Fun. Real fun. It was a concept. Something that maybe she'd have to relearn... Something real that she could maybe reclaim. If Sirius was here in multiple versions and Harry was here nad both were alive and well... wasn't anything possible?