The soft sand warms the soles of Hermione's feet as she strolls along Bondi Beach, her flip-flops dangling from her left hand. The beach is dotted with shells, washed-up seaweed, and half-finished sandcastles, and the sea that stretches out beside her is a striking tapestry of blues and greens. As she passes a group of children splashing around at the water's edge, she steps back into the cool water, smiling as the gentle waves brush against her ankles. A cool breeze blows past her, sifting through her hair and giving her relief from the heat of the summer sun, and her eyes drift closed as her feet still.
This midday walk has become something of a ritual for her. The month since she arrived in Sydney has been hectic and, at times, demoralising, but this routine has helped her pull through, relaxing and grounding her regardless of what else she might be going through at the time. It gives her a chance to be alone with her thoughts and to clear her head before returning to work once more. It's the only thing that keeps her steady in this search for answers that may not even exist.
Except now, for the first time, Hermione can definitively say that they do exist. They do, and she has found them. This morning, after a year of experimentation and constant tweaking, her Memory Restoration Charm was finally approved by the Committee on Experimental Charms. Submitting the application was one of the hardest things she has ever done — the spell was like the first spark of a fire, so small and fragile that she was terrified that exposing it to the world might snuff it out. But instead of flickering out, it flared up, and now it's blazing bright in all its glory.
She has the answer. She has the approval. Now, all she needs to do is to drop in at her parents' dental practice and return their memories to them.
She knows that's easier said than done; life usually is. The path ahead will be a rocky one, filled with difficult conversations and confessions that she really doesn't want to make. She will never regret her decision to keep her parents in the dark about Voldemort for so many years; if she didn't, they would have pulled her out of school in an instant, and the whole course of the war would have changed. But the freedom her lies gave her came with a price, and now it's time to face up to that.
Even so, she isn't worried. At the end of the day, they're her family. They may not be happy with her when they find out, but they will always be here for her, just as she will always be there for them.
And it's time to bring them home.
Hermione jogs back up the beach, weaving her way through groups of other beachgoers. Her feet sink into the sand with each step, but she doesn't let it slow her. Her mind is clear now, and she isn't willing to wait another minute.
Her footing grows firmer the further she goes until, finally, she reaches the point where sand meets cement. Slipping on her flip-flops, she doesn't even spare a glance for the view behind her as she makes her way back to her car.
She's ready.
It's time.
A/N: For Little Tee.