Without even registering consciously what she was doing, Hermione's hand slipped into the bag she carried in her pocket. Her mind clutched at thoughts of Augustus while her hand sought out the wilted, crushed bluebell she'd been carrying around for months. One of her first cloaked spells she had been successful at casting halted its decay, but it was already far gone at that point. It served as a reminder of the past that could no longer exist.