Written for the now-defunct Harry Potter LAS community on Livejournal.

1995

Hermione's father looked stunned at her request. "But... we thought you'd love skiing. You were always so keen on the idea when you were younger. You used to beg us every year to take you."

"I know, Dad," Hermione said, her fingers tracing the pattern on the arm of the sofa where she sat. "It's just that I want to do well in my classes. We have our first real exams this year, and everyone who's really serious about them is staying at school to study."

Her mother frowned. "It's just that we see so little of you, with you away at that school all year. We were hoping to have some family time together, just the three of us. Your father and I have both gotten time off work, and the tickets are already booked."

Hermione bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Mum, really, but this is important. I just want to do well."

Her mother and father exchanged glances, then her father sighed. "We know you do, dear. You head on back to school, then, it's alright."

An hour later, in her seat on the Knight Bus, Hermione stared out the window, paying no attention to the dark shapes flashing past. She knew her parents were disappointed, but she couldn't have just taken off on a skiing trip, not when Harry and the others needed her. Her parents would just have to understand how important her life as a witch was to her. She would make it up to them the next time she was at home.

.o.

1997

It was hard, so hard, but Hermione knew what she had to do. Her parents were Muggles; if Voldemort went after them, hunting for Harry, they would have no way to defend themselves. An image of the Dark Mark rising over her house made her shudder. They were in danger because of her.

She had thought long and hard about a cover story: what would be safest, most plausible. She had spent hours researching memory charms and magical methods for forging documents. She had even practised a few charms on Crookshanks. It was a little difficult to tell how well they'd worked, but eventually he'd begun to look confused instead of grumpy, so she thought she must be improving.

She blinked the tears out of her eyes. Her parents would be happy, she would see to that with the charm, and she would be able to join the horcrux hunt without having to worry about them. And without them trying to stop me, a voice whispered in her head. She resolutely ignored it. This was for the best. She started down the stairs, wand in hand.

.o.

1999

Hermione was exhausted. In the months since the final battle at Hogwarts, the wizarding world had been in chaos. Everyone, no matter how unqualified, had been drafted to help in the cleanup. Despite never even having sat her NEWTS, she had been offered a position at the Ministry, sorting through records to try to determine what had happened to the Muggleborns who had escaped the purges, to try to identify possible Death Eaters, to try to make some order out of the piles of papers that seemed to cover every surface in the building. It was work she was good at, but sometimes she wondered if it would ever be done.

She and Harry were still living at the Weasleys. Ron and Ginny were there too, and the older Weasleys popped in to visit often. After all the death and destruction it was hard to let go of each other, even now that the danger had passed.

At some point, she knew, she would have to go and retrieve her parents from Australia. They had been there for well over a year now, after all. Still, things were so frantic at the moment, she barely had a spare minute to herself. And her parents would want her to move back in with them, and she wasn't sure she wanted that any more. Living in a place where magic was not just practised but encouraged had been strangely freeing. She had her job, she had her friends; despite everything, she was happy. Soon, though, she would go and get her parents. Soon.

.o.

2033

Wendell Wilkins, 84, passed away April 13th, 2033, at James Milson Nursing Home, North Sydney. Beloved husband of Monica (deceased), dear friend of past and present staff of Wilkins' Dental Clinic in Chatswood. Funeral will be held 1pm Saturday at Macquarie Park Cemetery.