Memories of a love that hadn't died, but had merely been cursed away are flooding back to Hermione. Ones that started from the very moment she spied a shy boy in broken glasses on the train to the magical school she had been accepted to.

A moment that was so important because it's truly when her life changed in so many ways. In having Harry in her life. In becoming a witch. In going to Hogwarts. Certainly it led her to war, but that war would have waged anyway, and it likely wouldn't have been won without her there.

A moment when she had found the man she should have had a chance with, but had been taken from her with a love spell.

A moment she suddenly finds herself much more acutely away of, as she finds herself standing on the Hogwarts Express, by herself, wand in hand and... and...

She looks into the glass door of one car, seeing her frizzy hair and buck teeth and youthful face. No, not youthful as it had been moments before but young. Eleven years young to be exact.

"Bloody Hell," she growls, knowing in an instant what it must be. "You bloody horrible woman. I swear when I find you I will see you in Azkaban." Or dead, but she doesn't say that outloud. She's getting enough looks from students in robes passing her as it is and she realizes she might want to keep those thoughts to herself.

And find Harry.

So she starts hurrying through the cars, knowing where he'll be. she just has to get there before that bloody little ginger bastard does.