She found Hestia in her small office on the first floor.

Hestia closed her eyes in resignation as the door slammed behind her. "Hermione—"

"Obliviated." Hermione brandished the article at her. "Three hundred of them."

"Yes. But—"

"Let me guess. It wasn't your vote."

"Wrong." Hestia stood from her desk and folded her hands in front of her. "Hermione, the law is quite clear on this matter. There is clear stipulation from the International Statute of Secrecy—"

"Are you telling me that the Provisional Government hasn't bent any laws in the past three months?"

Another silence.

"These are heroes," she hissed. "Survivors—"

"My hands were tied, Hermione. If the new government we're hoping to build is to have any credibility moving forward, it must comply with the laws of the I.C.W. They weren't willing to bend on this."

Hermione stared at her, counting her heartbeats. "I have an answer to your offer."

"Go ahead," said Hestia. Her lips pressed together.

"I cannot in good conscience join a government willing to make those kinds of sacrifices. Those girls were just as much a part of this war as the rest of us—" Her throat closed as she remembered a girl with strawberry-blonde hair screaming into the sky. "They've had so much taken from them already. They have a right to determine their own future."

Hestia's eyes flickered with something. "I understand completely. I also wish things could be different."

Hermione stepped into her. "Then do something about it."

The corner of Hestia's mouth tugged. "Excellent work with Zabini and Malfoy, Hermione. I've been meaning to tell you for some time."

She moved around Hermione, her hand pausing on the door handle. "Keep fighting," she said softly. "I hope one day you can succeed where I'm failing. I mean that."

Hestia stepped through the door and held it open for her. Hermione felt numb as she commanded her legs to walk through. Hestia closed it behind her, pacing briskly down the corridor. Hermione stared after her, thinking.

As she exited the building onto the Muggle streets, she wandered for a while in no specific direction. She thought of her parents, and Draco. But there was only her own reflection staring back at her in the glass doors of an empty cafe as she tried to decide what was supposed to happen next.

All she wanted was for things to mend themselves. The government. Hogwarts. The Carrow Girls. The space between her and Ron, and the chasm in her heart.

She Apparated to Diagon Alley, wandering the damaged stalls and shuttered shops. Flourish and Blotts had been looted, its windows broken and rubbish strewn about the entry.

She walked down the narrow street, smiling at shopkeepers who recognized her, and offering help to an old man trying to clean up his store.

At the corner of Diagon and Horizont Alley, she found a familiar storefront — a bookstore she used to visit when Flourish and Blotts was too busy. Cornerstone Bookshop. It had a funny off-center door and a little bell announcing visitors.