            Her Wednesday trip to the library proved fruitless, and her conversation with Lucius more stilted than usual. She wondered if the impending new year was bothering him, like it was her. Calendar changes were so final. The new year always devastated the illusion that time was only trickling by. During the war, Hermione had longed for these calendar changes, praying for the next day when her world and loved ones would be free. Now, she dreaded them. Dreaded getting older, sinking deeper into the only life she knew.