Hermione had no answers about the future, but—and this was new, this was sharp and shining, and she cradled it behind her ribcage like fragile glass—she no longer felt unmoored. This was solid ground beneath her feet: that her marriage, as she’d known it, was over. That it was something she could let go of, and walk away from. That there was something else on the horizon, something she would walk   towards.