            The newspaper landed softly on the coffee table. Hermione blinked at it, staring at her child self. That girl hadn’t lost her parents. Lost Remus or Tonks. She hadn’t known Ron’s comfortable love, or his cruelness. She hadn’t known how her heart would sink into her chest like a collapsing star, that only a quest for Sirius Black’s resurrection would yank her from drowning. That girl didn’t have dark magic carved into her thigh. Hadn’t known Lucius’s touch, or his betrayal.