             Clutching her wand and slinging her tote over one shoulder, Hermione began her ascent up the amphitheater-like rows, her kitten heels clacking satisfying against the stone. At the top, she turned back towards the dais. The archway stood there, silent as ever. Hermione didn’t believe in a true afterlife, biblical or Wizarding. Supposedly, that’s why the Veil had always been silent to her, unlike Harry or Luna. The tattered fabric between the ancient stones blew faintly, shifting in an unseeable wind.