SWNOVELXO Chapter 4: Surfacing
At first, there was nothing.
No light. No pain. No thought.
Just a slow, gentle falling. Like sinking through deepwater. Like being caught between breaths, too far in to turn back, too far downto remember the surface.
Then–movement.
Not hers.
A hand, small and pale, reaching for something offscreen. Avoice, soft and laughing. A sofa, a pair of legs–someone chasing someone elsearound it. The edge of a memory, but not her own.
She saw it as though through glass. A living room. Dimevening light. A boy's face, maybe five years old, flushed with joy as hedarted around a coffee table. Laughter trailed after him–his brother's, youngerand brighter.
Then the warmth faded.
Now a door was closing. An adult voice, low and strained.Bills on a table. Words like "redundancy" and "tightmonth." A kitchen gone quiet. The boy stood still in the hallway,watching.
Hermione should have looked away, but she couldn't.
She didn't know why she was seeing this. She only knew thatit felt... familiar. Not the language. Not the places. Not the people.
The weight.
That bone-deep, silent kind of tiredness. She recognized it.
Now the boy was older–maybe ten or eleven–sitting at aschool desk, hands folded. Children snickered nearby. A teacher ignored it. Heblinked slowly, unmoving, as if it didn't reach him. But she felt it in hischest–how badly he wanted to be seen. Just once.
Hermione watched it unfold. Fragmented scenes. Quietdefeats. Days stacking like bricks, too heavy for such a small frame.
And slowly, the glass dissolved.
It was no longer a window. No longer a dream.
It was me.
My hands. My thoughts.
I felt the pressure on my shoulders, the ache in my chestwhen someone said, "Grow up," but I already had.
I stopped asking questions. I stopped crying. I stoppedhoping.
I just moved forward. One step. Then another.
Then–
a train.
A seat by the window.
A man in black.
A strange watch.
A voice like I'd heard it before.
He asked if I was happy.I said I didn't need to be.
He said to live. That he'd take care of them. That I'd understand.
Soon.
And I–
I was starting to–
A sound.
A voice.
Far away, at first. Then nearer.
"Hermione…"
Something pulled at the memory. Tugged her back. The sceneblurred, like paint under water.
The boy's face turned toward her. His expression unreadable.
"…Please come back" A woman's voice. Cracked with grief,desperate.
And then he was gone. The scene shattered like glass droppedon tile.
Light slowly bled through her eyelids. Her body felt like itwas made of stone, heavy and completely unmovable. There was an insistentbeeping sound somewhere in the background. A warmth in her hand, a slightpressure.
She opened her eyes. The ceiling above was unfamiliar.Off-white, speckled. The air had the distinct hospital smell. Something whichshe was all too familiar with at her parents' dental clinic.
A gasp. A sob.
"Oh my god–Hermione?"
Her mother.
Tears streaked down her cheeks as she bent over her.Hermione blinked up at her, confused. Her father was there too. Pale, unshaven, eyes red and widewith disbelief.
"She's awake," he whispered hoarsely. "She's awake–she'sback."
Hands held hers. Foreheads touched hers. There was a floodof words–relief, gratitude, love.
They were saying things–her parents. Rapid, emotional,familiar syllables rushing into the silence. Her name over and over."Hermione." As if afraid she would disappear again.
But the words didn't quite land. They floated around herlike mist, half-heard and far away. She blinked slowly, like each movement costmore than it should. Her arms wouldn't lift. Her mouth was dry.
She opened it anyway. "Mum?" she croaked.
That broke something in her mother. A sob escaped her lipsas she cupped Hermione's face with trembling hands. "Yes, baby. Yes. We'rehere."
Her father stepped aside to call for the nurse. Hermionewatched him go, still frowning slightly, not because she didn't recognize him–butbecause everything felt a beat off. Like a song played in the wrong key.
Nurses came first. Then a doctor. The light above her eye.The reflex tests. The soft, clinical questions.
"Can you tell me your name?"
"Do you know where you are?"
"What day is it, Hermione?"
She answered some. Others, she let drift past. Her throatached and her mind was still swimming. She caught words like "coma"and "two weeks" and "miracle," but they felt distant.
The doctor's eyes narrowed once, perhaps sensing herconfusion ran deeper than simple grogginess. But Hermione met her gaze withoutexpression, then let her eyes drift closed again. A subtle signal.
"Oh, she's still exhausted," her mother said, brushing backher hair. "Of course she is."
They stepped back, quieted down.
Hermione let herself sink into the pillows. She wasn'tpretending. Not entirely. The confusion and weariness was real.
---
She woke uplater in silence. It was nighttime.
The wardlights were low now. The beeping of different machines was still there, butmuted. Less intrusive.
The roomwas empty. Her parents had gone home, finally convinced by the nurses and thedoctors. She was alone.
And awake.Truly awake.
She sat upslowly, gripping the guardrails of the bed for support. She looked around.
An IV linein her hand, a blanket covering her lower half. Glow from the nurses' stationseeped into her room via the clear wall.
And thenshe caught her reflection.
Bushy maneeven more wild after waking up. Two large buck teeth. A pale, small face. Widebrown eyes.
She staredat it. The girl in the window stared back.
And then,for a moment, just for a moment, she saw something else – an outline, ofanother face. That young man's face. Overlaid.
A boy.
Older.
Eyes more tired. Jaw more set. A different shape to thesadness. Yet determined.
Her own.
Hers and his.
She slumped back in bed, eyes closed, as memories rushedback in. Slowly first, like a trickle, then faster.
A class laughing and mocking. His brother's laughter. His parents'pride and sadness. The watch. The man in the train. His parting words: Go onand live. I'll take care of them.
Hermione'seyes snapped open. She knew. She remembered. Everything.
She finallyunderstood what had happened. They were never different. Never separate. NeverHermione and the young man.
He was her.She was him. Not two different souls living different lives. But one soul justcontinuing its adventure in the next life.
They thought they broke me. And maybe they did. But Ilearnt to live with the cracks.
She let out a soft snort.
This world doesn't know me yet.
But it will.
She looked back at her reflection, a grin ghosting across her lips.
"Nice to meet you, Hermione Granger. Let's show this world what we've learnt."