InsaneJournal

Hermione was in the lounge, minding her own business. She had her wand-- well, it was Bellatrix’s wand, as she never got hers back after the war. It was a terrible thing, knowing that it had killed so many people and belonged to someone who thought she wasn’t a person due to her blood. Not to mention the fact that she didn’t “win” it from Bellatrix, it resisted her. Under the table she sat at, Hermione kept waving the wand.

“Expecto Patronum!” She hissed-whispered. She thought of when she got her parents back. She thought of Ron, she thought of Harry, she thought of her first day at Hogwarts. Happy memories. Good memories.

But no otter appeared. A wisp of ethereal smoke came out the end. “Maybe I should try something a little more easy,” she said aloud, to herself-- not realizing someone was walking by when she spoke. It would be more than easy to think she was talking to them.