This chapter has been edited. I'm going back through and editing the first few chapters again since they are super super super rough. This was my first ever fic I posted and I was too excited to even go back and reread what I wrote before posting. So, I've finally done just that and will be reposting as I re-edit a lot of the beginning chapters. Hope ya'll enjoy! Updated Jan 4,2019

Watching Voldemort's body fall lifeless to the ground was truly one of the happiest moments in Hermione Granger's life. Harry had won - they actually did it. Once the Death Eaters and the rest of Voldemort's followers realized their precious Lord had failed, they started desperately trying to make their escape. With their thoughts now consumed with only wanting to get away, it was easy enough for the Light to restrain them. Only a small handful managed to escape.

Nobody had expected the backlash that would come from the fall of the greatest dark wizard to ever live.

Hermione was in the middle of searching the grounds for any survivors when the pain hit her suddenly like a ton of bricks. She cried out, falling to the ground gasping, trying desperately to draw in a breath. Hermione had survived torture at the hands of Bellatrix herself; this - this was so much worse. The sensation wasn't just stabbing her physically, but was radiating out directly from her magical core. It felt like her magic was being stretched, like someone was trying to rip it from her body piece by piece, shredding it into an unrecognizable mess.

She could vaguely hear someone shouting her name but she couldn't focus on the voice as she continued to scream herself hoarse, her vocal chords straining as the sharp agony persisted. She could actually feel her vocal cords straining. The pain only seemed to get worse the longer it persisted, until Hermione found herself begging for the darkness to claim her. Whether that darkness was death or unconsciousness, she really didn't care at this point as long as the pain would just stop!

Thankfully, she didn't have much longer to wait as her vision started to dim around the edges until finally, everything slipped away into that blessed nothingness.

When Hermione finally started to regain some of her senses, she struggled to regain control of her limbs as they felt like weighted lead. All she could really do was lie there and take stock of her body as feeling slowly returned to her joints. The pain was gone, and in its absence Hermione could appreciate the fact it hadn't actually killed her. As far as she could tell, there didn't really seem to be anything wrong with her at all. After trying to feel out if there was anything amiss and finding nothing, she decided the next step would be to actually open her eyes and see for herself.

Slowly lifting her lids Hermione was grateful for the dim lighting overhead so she wouldn't have to wait too long for her eyes to adjust. She blinked, finding herself squinting up at a dark stone ceiling, torches burned around the edges of the room. There weren't very many, which explained why the space was so subdued. The room itself wasn't terribly big either, comparing in size to an interrogation room she had seen on a police show her dad used to watch on the teli.

Guessing from the overwhelming silence, Hermione could only assume she was alone. She certainly couldn't see anyone from her current vantage point. Slowly she swung her legs over the side of the bed, simultaneously bringing up her torso so she could sit on the edge, the thin mattress bending under her weight. Sitting up, she took the room in its entirety.

She had actually been closer to the mark than she'd thought when comparing the room to a police interrogation room. On one wall she could see an observation window that thankfully, went both ways. There was also a plain black, metal door off to the right of the window. Other than her bed, a couple of monitors and a nightstand were the only other furniture in the room.

Thankfully she didn't have long to wonder what was going on as she clearly wasn't in the hospital wing or St. Mungo's. She was pretty sure she had never been here in her life.

The door opened and revealing her best friend, followed closely by Kingsley and a healer. Hermione was so thankfully glad to see some welcome faces after waking up in such an unfamiliar place that she jumped up and rushed forward to give Harry a much needed hug. She had only made it a few steps before her body collided with an invisible barrier. Confused, she looked up with a furrowed brow, realizing that Harry, Kingsley, and the healer were all standing up against the far wall.

"Harry?" She could hear the crack in her voice, her nerves rising with each second he failed to reply, "What's going on? Where are we? Why won't you come any closer?" she asked. He was really starting to make her nervous the way he was looking at her. But it was Kingsley who replied.

"Hermione, you may want to sit back down for this." Her eyes flicked to Kingsley, surprised that he was the one to finally answer her.

Well, that certainly doesn't sound ominous at all. Hermione slowly backed up and sat on the bed behind her. "Go ahead, I'm listening."

"We all know Voldemort was truly one of the most powerful wizards to ever live, no point denying it. It's true he was as twisted as they come, but he had the magic to back it."

"I'm sorry, Kingsley, but what does Voldemort have to do with any of this?" Hermione waved her hand around indicating the small, rather depressing, room around them.

"I was getting to that, just let me explain." He ran a hand over his bald head in exasperation. "This isn't easy, Hermione, and I'd really appreciate it if you would try not to interrupt."

"I'm sorry, please continue." She said more subdued, trying to squash down her curiosity and stall the dozens of questions flying around in her brain.

Kingsley took in a deep breath before he continued, "Right. So, like I said, Voldemort was powerful. Lots of magic. But because of his Horcruxes, his magic had become unstable. Your soul is directly connected to your magical core, see, and with Voldemort tearing his into tiny pieces, well, I'm sure you can only imagine the kind of damage that would do to his magic. This is all very old magic, most wizards just take it for granted now without really stopping to think about it. I'd be willing to bet Voldemort certainly didn't, otherwise I believe he would have found a different approach to immortality. As someone who placed magical ability right up there next to blood purity, I'm sure he never would have dreamed of harming his magic for the sake of living forever. He never would have purposely made himself weaker." Here, Kingsley paused, shifting his weight from foot to foot. She could see he was trying to gather his thoughts so as to best explain it all clearly to her.

"Magic isn't just created out of nowhere for someone to use. It's part of nature. It's ingrained into the Earth herself. Sun rises and sets, seasons change, magical children are born. But just like the cycle of the seasons, magic flows through us in a similar fashion. We grow old, we die, our magic is released back for nature to absorb and wait for magical babies to be born so the magic cycle repeats itself. The only problem with this is that throughout our lives, we can absorb more of the magic around us, even after birth. So, someone like Voldemort actually took that magic from his surroundings, but because he took it by force - through death and destruction - it became Dark magic. If a person was nurturing, encouraging and kind, nature tends to give of that magic freely, and that's how you end up with strong wizards like Dumbledore."

It seemed Harry was finally ready to join the conversation instead of fidgeting quietly. "When Voldemort finally died a real, lasting death, it released all his Dark magic, but because nature stays neutral and consists of Grey magic, it couldn't take it all back. Nature is all about balance, and when that much Dark magic was discharged, it upset that delicate balance."

Hermione couldn't help herself any longer. "This is really all very interesting, but it still doesn't answer the question. Why are we here?!" She was really starting to lose her patience. This felt like the longest, most roundabout, obsolete explanation of her life. That was saying something too, considering all the lectures she sat through with Professor Binns.

"We're getting there, I promise, Hermione, just please bare with us for a little longer." Harry explained. She could tell something was really bothering him as he hadn't looked her in the eye the since entering the unexplained room. "Look, the short of it is this: Nature is trying to balance itself out by seeking out Light magic for the Dark magic to blend with and return to its natural state as Grey magic. Apparently nature has decided it's going to use you, Hermione, to create that balance."

Hermione swore you could have heard a pin drop. "I'm sorry, but you're talking as if nature is sentient and can just decide what goes where…"

"It is Hermione. Nature is very much a sentient force, much like Time actually. But that's beside the point." Kingsley took another deep breath to steady himself. Oh good, apparently they hadn't even gotten to the hardest part of this conversation. Hermione couldn't wait to hear the rest of this insanity.

"Like Harry said, nature has chosen to use your Light magic to try and balance out the excess of Dark magic -there must always be balance - but because there is just so much Dark magic, your own magic seems to be having a difficult time accepting it. And there's the obvious as well."

Hermione crossed her arms, one eyebrow raised, making it clear it was not obvious to her." Your magic is Light, so it naturally would balk at trying to be squashed together with Dark magic. The result of your Light magic resisting the Dark magic was the pain you felt after the Battle. After you lost consciousness, the magic lashed out because the two wouldn't fit together. It took almost three hours for the fusion to settle again so we could get to you."

"How long have I been unconscious?" Hermione asked suddenly, sitting up a little straighter. "How long has it been since the battle?" She had assumed it had only been a short time, a few hours maybe, but she finally took a closer look at their appearances. Kingsley was wearing the Minister's distinct purple robes, and Harry seemed to have grown some scruff on his face.

"How. Long?" She repeated. Both Kingsley and Harry looked hesitant to answer so she wasn't surprised when the healer finally piped up.

"You've been out for two weeks, dear."

Two weeks?! Hermione stood with a jolt. "You're saying I've been just lying here for two whole weeks? Was there no way to wake me up? My magic should have healed and been fine within a day or two at most!" Hermione could feel the panic starting to set in. "There is so much that can happen in two weeks! What the hell have I missed!?"

Kingsley was definitely starting to lose his patience with her continuous interruptions. "Hermione, if you can't control yourself, we aren't going to answer any more questions today. We still have quite a bit to cover, so I really need you to reign it in a little longer. Can you do that for me?"

That certainly made Hermione snap her mouth shut. There was no way she was giving up the chance to get those answers right now! She waved her hand in an indication to continue.

"Thank you. Now, as I was saying, it was three hours before the magic settled and we could finally see if you were alright. The magic had created, basically, a chaotic field around you as it tried to smash itself together. Unfortunately it happened again about another three hours later. And has continued to do so in three hour intervals consistently. Hermione, your magic has become completely unstable. It tries to attack anyone who comes near you, damages anything around you, and causes you pain due to the magics battling against each other in your core as well. The reason you were out for two weeks is because we did it on purpose. If we let you stay conscious through these episodes, the pain would have driven you to insanity. Probably within only a couple of days.

"So that leads us to here. This is one of the observation rooms used by curse breakers in the Ministry and use it for smaller objects that are easily transported. They bring them here, so in case something reacts unexpectedly, they do so in a heavily warded area. This prevents anything or anyone from potentially being harmed. This was the only place we could think of to try and contain the damage once the magic tried bonding again, and there's no chance of anyone stumbling upon you and getting got in the crossfire. We set up the extra wards just in case something unexpected were to happen while we are in the room. That's why you couldn't reach Harry just now. The monitors are to help check your vitals, and to alert us to any changes. Such as you waking up."

Here, Kingsley paused to allow her to absorb the information before continuing. Hermione could see from his face that there was, in fact, even more to this delightful tale.

"Ok…." Hermione started slowly, organizing her thoughts. "But why two weeks then? Is it really taking so long for the magic to bond together? If nature wants balance, shouldn't it have been achieved by now?"

Apparently the healer had decided this was her information to share. "Unfortunately, Miss Granger, it seems nature isn't quite capable enough of blending Light and Dark magic while it resides in another being. It's only capable of doing so as it is returned to its natural state, without attachment or affiliation. It cannot simply force your Light magic to mix properly with the Dark magic. It has taken us two weeks to come up with a solution that doesn't involve death."

At this, Hermione could only stare at them. So what, this would never end unless she died?! Well, isn't that a happy thought. "You said you've found a solution though..." She really didn't want to get her hopes up too high.

"You know we love you no matter what right, Hermione?" Harry asked her, finally making eye contact with her. "We'll always be here for you."

"If you're trying not to scare me, Harry, you just failed miserably." She was trying desperately to lighten the mood. No one even cracked a smile. Tough crowd.

"The plan isn't terribly complicated actually, and there is only a very small chance of it not succeeding." Harry seemed to gain more confidence as he realized she hadn't ripped into anyone yet for waiting a full two weeks before they talked to her. "We realized the problem was your magic trying to squash together Light and Dark magic. So, we just needed to find something else for the Dark magic to attach to…. I guess it would be more appropriate to say someone else."

"Can we do that? Can we really force nature to allow the magic to bond with someone else?" If she thought about it, this all really was terribly fascinating. Or would be if it was about someone else.

"No, no, the magic is still going to bond with you, we just need to give the Dark magic something else to latch onto first instead of trying to ram itself into your magical core like a battering ram." Harry's courage seemed short lived as he began to shrink back a bit from her as he finished his thought. "If we bond you with someone who the Dark magic is more sympathetic with, then the magic can flow through that more natural bond instead. We're basically giving it direction rather than smashing up against you."

"Wait…. Are you saying I have to bond with someone…. and because the magic is looking for balance it'll probably have to be for the rest of my life…. So, what like a marriage bond?" Hermione's voice had begun to rise in pitch until she only squeaked out the last bit.

"That's exactly what it means Hermione." Harry sighed, looking at the floor again. Coward. "We have to find someone who's own magical core can withstand the addition of that much magic. Someone who's magic is far enough over on the spectrum they can accept magic that Dark."

"Well, I'm sure whomever you find will be simply delightful since they have to be Dark enough to handle Voldemort's leftovers!" She shrieked. This was not going well. She noticed Harry's eyes travel to the Calming Draught the healer was holding. His expression showing clearly his thoughts on possibly drugging her again. "I'm going to have to spend the rest of my life attached to someone whose magic is Dark enough to be sympathetic to Voldemort's? Where are you going to find someone like that who doesn't just up and kill me instead?!" She noticed she had been pacing without remembering when she started to move.

"The only people we've found able to come remotely close to withstanding his magic are the Death Eaters we captured."

There was a strained silence at Kingsley's announcement.

"You. Have. Lost. Your. Mind, Kingsley? Why don't we just murder me now and save someone else the trouble!" She was really working herself up into hysterics now. "This is officially one of the worst ideas I've ever heard. And I'm friends with the Weasley twins! I'll just go spend the rest of my life with someone who hates me because my parents don't have magic! I can't possibly see this going wrong in any way!" She had begun gesticulating wildly along with the pacing.

Hermione's tirade was cut short by the beeping on one of the monitors.

"Times up, Minister. We really need to get moving before we get caught in here." The healer came bustling forward, forcing Hermione back into the bed. Hermione's eyes only widened as she felt full blown panic take over.

"Times up for what? What's going on? What are you doing?!" Hermione demanded as the healer started pulling out potions from her pockets and setting them on the bedside table while forcing Hermione to lie back down.

Kingsley suddenly looked very tired. "That's the timer, Hermione. Our three hours is up. We have to put you back under again I'm afraid. We can't be in here when the magic tries to bond again, and I'm sure you don't want to feel it again either. We'll wake you back up when we have something more to tell you."

At that, Kingsley made a quick exit, leaving poor Harry behind to watch his best friend restrained as potions were forced down her throat.

"Harry, please don't leave me like this, I'm begging you!" Hermione had completely given in to the panic by now, tears flowing freely from her eyes. "Just wake me back up when it's over. Don't let me just stay here until you have something new to tell me! Don't let them do this to me, Harry!Please! There's still so much unanswered. Don't do this!"

Harry just watched sadly from his spot against the wall talking softly. "I'm so sorry Hermione, but you need to trust us. This is the only way. You'll understand later, I promise. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry." He held his hands out in supplication, silently begging her to forgive him as tears began to escape from behind his glasses.

The last thing she saw before the darkness took over again was the sad, but determined look upon Harry's face as he closed the door behind him.