Hi, this is my first story on here and I am really excited! I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it for you! It will be a chaptered fic, not sure how long just yet. I know there isn't much suspense yet, but I hope that you will want to continue reading to know what will happen next!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

xXx

She ran as fast as she could. She ducked below the looming branches, and she dodged the huge trunks of the many trees. He was in pursuit of her, and she could not let him catch her, or she will fail immediately. The sharp wind blew her brown, bushy hair behind her head and she could hear him laughing close behind her.

She turned to her right and passed a little stump where a tree had used to be growing, but its life had obviously been sadly cut short.

'Poor tree,' she thought and continued dashing away from that tall man.

She had lapped the woods many times before, but her legs were growing feebler by every second that passed by, and she knew she had to make the alternate choice so she could win this battle. The man's laughter was warm and bubbly as it came nearer. She sucked in a huge breath and jumped from her position and faced the incoming man.

Her little legs brought her body up to the man as she shot up from the hard ground and was able to spring upon him. Her force knocking him to the ground floor and he landed with a loud thumping noise. She had venom in her eyes as she stared at the man below her and he laughed heartily at her. His hands went to her sides and began tickling her hardly. The venom disappeared and she laughed with him as tears leapt from her eyes from her laughter and giddiness.

"I w-w-w-on," she stuttered out joyously from her giggles.

"You always do Hermione," her father said happily. "Help your old dad up now, huh."

Hermione giggled and she hopped off of her father and reached her hand out to help him on his feet again. Her father pretended that he had trouble doing so, causing Hermione to be filled with giddiness at his silliness.

"Oh goodness, I'm getting old," her father groaned. He was finally on his feet and Hermione held his hand as they walked through the woods together. Her family had a summer cabin in the woods where they would spend part of the summer holidays. It was quaint and roomy; it always had a warm feeling to it, of which Hermione enjoyed immensely. Her mother went out into the small town nearby since she said she forgot something important at home, to which she seemed extremely worried about. Hermione figured it might have been band aids since there was a red spot on her mother's shorts.

Hermione brought a wicked grin upon her face, bent down to pick up a random stick on the ground of the woods, and she turned her body towards her father.

"Wigglywoogly!" She shouted and her father made a fake scared noise. "That makes you ticklish!"

Her father laughed and laughed, but what he did not reveal to Hermione was that he was actually feeling very ticklish, and it caused him to be nervous. These things would always occur, but he swore that he would never tell anyone.

Hermione was very amused by her father's reaction and finally settled down and tossed the stick away and seized her father's hand and they kept walking onwards together. Hermione grinned to herself. She enjoyed these trips to the cabin greatly; she could actually have fun with her father, and not pretend otherwise in front of the other children at school. She wanted to be a cool eleven year old, and not be called the bookworm by everyone anymore. She does read all the time, but the way the say it to her is as though it is distasteful on their tongues. She did not want to be called worse, and be laughed at by her peers, so these summers were special to her.

Together she and her father passed by that stump again, except this time; a peculiar looking, brown tawny owl was perched upon it. Hermione's eyes creased together as she looked at it. It tilted its head to the side while facing her and uttered out a little noise. Hermione jabbed her father in his arm and made him look at the owl. He jumped in shock.

"Stay away from it, Hermione," her father warned.

"But Dad, it seems harmless. Oh can't I touch it, please!" Hermione insisted with a puppy-dog face. Normally her father could not resist her pouty lip.

"Just come with me, Hermione," her father pleaded, and she gave in and gripped his hand, but she was still saddened that her pouty face did not work on him this time. Then they headed back to the cabin where her mother was waiting for them, most likely to hear about her latest adventure with her father and the new spells she casted on him. They approached the cabin door and her father held it open for her.

They stepped inside and Hermione began calling for her mother and yelling about how she tackled her father again.

"Hermione," she heard her mother call back suddenly. "Please come into the living room, now."

Hermione was stunned by the tone of voice her mother had, an emotionless monotone. But, her curiosity overwhelmed her and she entered in the cabin's tiny, yet cozy, living room.

Inside, her mother was seated on the couch and standing in the middle of the room was another strange looking woman. This woman oddly wore an emerald green cloak, had her hair tied in a super tight bun with a pointed hat on top of it, and glasses perched on her nose.

"Hello Miss. Granger, I am Professor McGonagall," she said and she reached out her hand for Hermione to shake.

xXx

5 Years Later

"I can't believe this is already your sixth year, Hermione, oh how the time has flown," her mother said sadly. and she enveloped Hermione in another hug. "If only your father was here to see this."

Her mother's eyes then filled with unwanted tears. Thoughts about her father had never left Hermione's head since she found out. His smile invaded her imagination all the time, and she just wished that she had seen him one last time, and told him how much he meant to her. Her breathing grew shallow as she took in shorter breaths.

"Oh mum!" she cried with her own eyes filled to the brim with those salty tears. "Why can't he be back? Why did he have to go?"

"Oh, Hermione! I miss him so much too, and I'm so sorry that he's not here for you. I just wish he was here my darling girl," her mother wept as she pet her daughter's bushy hair, which had never fully changed over the years. She buried her face in her hands and her brunette hair swept in front of her face, but she was able to lift her head up again. "Who else would fix my patient's smiles to make them perfect."

Hermione's face drooped and her jaw twitched. Her mother kept weeping out her sorrows, and she squeezed her daughter closer and tighter to her body than before. Hermione laid her head on top of her mother's silky and smooth hair and breathed in the scent unwillingly. She could tell that her mother has barely showered since that horrible day. She was barely able to garner her strength, and she knew her mother was way too fragile.

Her father was always the boulder that could protect her and her mother from anything that could ever happen.

Except this.

xXx

The familiar smell of the smoke of the Hogwarts Express filled Hermione's tiny nostrils. She took a step away from the brick wall she had just run through in order to make room for more incoming students. Her throat swelled a bit at the thought of her mother being alone for such a long time. She and her mother needed each other. But, Harry needed her, she needed her studies, her mother was in no danger, unlike Harry is. Yet, most of all, she needed her father alive.

Her father gone and not seeing her off brought more tears to her brown eyes. She remembered those innocent days before she knew she was a witch and how she and her father would have mini adventures in the woods together. The memories of how they frolicked would never cease to bring happiness in her eyes. The pair of them would pretend they had magic, and weird things would always occur to them. Sometimes, when Hermione truly believe she possessed those powers, what she wanted, would happen. Her father would always be amazed in more ways than she actually knew. It always made her happier than she already was at that point in the day. The children at school, before she knew she was a witch, would always bring her down, and yet her father was there to return the smile to her face. But, those days were too far gone.

She hadn't even been there when he died.

She closed her eyes and hid her tears for a moment to clear them away and erase the emotions. She had to remain strong; she had to show everyone that she could do it.

The train whistled its warning blow and she hurried to the train while wiping off estranged tears. She had to attend to her Prefect duties.

xXx

The crisp pages of Hogwarts A History called to her and she opened up the book and its musty aroma encompassed the whole room. She reminisced about those times over the summer holidays where she would read passages of the book to her father, and he would be wrapped up in Bathilda Bagshot's words. She clutched the book to her stomach and cried.

xXx

Thank you so much for reading!

I hope you liked it!

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-In this Style XOXO