Some days when she allowed her mind to wander back to those relatively carefree days in the castle, Hermione wished she could travel back in time to appreciate what she had while she had it. There was very little of the same girl that strove to be the top of her year in every class in the woman that looked a little bit like her. Life had changed her in ways she couldn't even fully identify. Maybe it was best that she couldn't. One could only take so much heartache in a single lifetime. She forced her mind away from thoughts of life in the castle. Weeks in a broom cupboard had ruined the illusion of a happy, safe place. Not even the memories of the soft, kind voice outside the door made it better.