Opening her eyes, Hermione slowly released the hold she had on herself and went to sit on the edge of her bed. Sitting next to her was something she had long since forgotten about, having had it stowed away underneath her bed for many years now. It was a series of journals full of the writings of her younger and heartbroken self. However, as she placed a hand atop the worn surface of the bound journals, she recalled having grown during that time. In fact, she knew that at the end of it all, she was better off than at the beginning.