Reality-Hermione clutched her chest.
This time, it really hurt.
It felt as if something sharp had pierced her heart. Every beat brought a tearing pain.
Tears welled in her eyes without warning, though she had no idea why.
"Who is he?" she murmured, her voice trembling. "I feel like... I remember him..."
But she couldn't remember his name.
The name was right on the tip of her tongue, almost ready to come out, yet it was blurred, as if hidden behind thick frosted glass.
The images in the mirror continued to flow.
They were no longer grand scenes, but little moments from everyday life.
A lakeside in Scotland.
A man in a wide-brimmed hat fished while adult Hermione sat on a picnic blanket nearby, sorting through documents. Every so often, she looked up at him, her affection utterly undisguised.
The backyard of a home. A simple wedding. As they exchanged vows, the sky was clear, and a few curious owls perched on the fence, tilting their heads to watch.
The kitchen late at night. They shared a steaming bowl of creamy mushroom soup as snow fell silently outside the window. Her feet rested on top of his because the floor was cold.
An afternoon in the study.
She leaned against him and said, "Sometimes I feel like none of this is real."
He kissed the crown of her head. "You're real, and I'm real."
Every scene was so warm it broke her heart.
Reality-Hermione's tears finally spilled over.
She didn't know why she was crying. She only knew that as she watched those unfamiliar yet terrifyingly familiar scenes, an overwhelming sadness washed over her.
Then the scene shifted to a lively party.
It seemed to be some kind of holiday. The living room was packed with people, their laughter mingling