Though Hermione wasn't done. Once Hogwarts: A History had been liberated of its extra pages, Hermione turned the wand on herself. She pointed the tip at her very heart, and cast a silent spell. It settled on her with a dull, grey glow. Then she moved her wand to her temple, and pulled a silken, silvery thread from her skin. A memory ... the record of whatever it was that she'd just done to herself. She didn't store it, didn't whip out a vial to keep it safe in. She just flicked her wand and let the memory strand fall away into the air, where it crisped up like the burning pages and disappeared into nothing.