Hermione was truly heartbroken this time.
Everyone had been under immense pressure lately, but she had borne far less than the others because she knew some inside information.
To her, keeping this secret was essentially deceiving her friends. But there was no other way. To fight Voldemort, even Harry had kept some secrets.
Everyone had their own little secrets.
Growing up amid chaos was an experience many people had to go through on their journey to maturity.
If people wanted to grow up, they had no choice but to endure these things.
At least from this moment on, her youth had died.
"I don't think a person's youth ever truly dies. It's just that the person you once were dies within that youth."
Jon stepped out of the illusion and sat across from Hermione.
"You don't seem to be in a very good mood. Or did I come at the wrong time?"
"No, Professor."
Hermione choked out, "I'm just... a little sad."
"You don't need to explain any of this to me. I understand your sadness, and I understand how hard this has been for you. Asking someone as young as you to do these things was difficult enough to begin with. If you feel you can't keep going, I can help you forget this memory. As for everything else, I'll find someone else to do it."
"There's no need."
Hermione shook her head. "It would never be as convenient for anyone else to do it as it is for me. Besides, if someone else handled this, how could it continue to affect Harry?"
There was more than one way to influence someone. It did not have to happen gradually. They could directly alter his memories, just as they had with Lockhart. Did she still remember him?
"Professor Lockhart?"
Hermione