Set in a slightly alternate universe, and some characters and ideas have been switched around. This is dark, this gets twisted, and it's all about desire. The characters do not belong to me, but the ideas do.
"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione. Oh, what will you do?"
It was all she could think about, all that she could see behind her eyelids when she closed them to think. Throughout the summer all that Hermione had been able to focus on had been the assortment of letters and pictures that had been repeatedly sent to her home. When the previous school term had ended they began as sweet letters that she assumed had come from one of the other students at Hogwarts she had begun helping to raise the average grades of those in her house and others. They could have come from any other student who had finally appreciated her help enough to say thank you in some way.
What started as simple gratitude letters with small flowers attached quickly became a sentence or two at a time with a photo of her attached. Her lazed about in the garden behind her parents' house, hair tousled from being attempted to be tamed too many times. Her walking down the alleyway that led to her favourite muggle bookstore, dressed in jean shorts and casual top. This is what led to Hermione contemplating who the letters came from. The photos always moved, just enough for her to see that whoever took them was always just close enough. Never too close that when she began to look over her shoulder to watch out as she walked with her family, but close enough that she could feel that someone was always around.
The first month of Summer break passed by quickly as after receiving an assortment of letters – always packed between the letters of Ron and Ginny – Hermione decided to stay home. She had always been an introverted individual, she loved to study, to learn more and more so that she was prepared for the years to come. But being unable to study outside when the sun was shining and warm after being so accustomed to the dreary atmosphere that she was left to, left her feeling tired. Hermione's parents noticed this and decided on a family trip up towards a cabin in Little Hangleton. Little Hangleton was a cute little village. It was the best way that Hermione could describe it. And the cabin was cozy in a way that reminded her of the Hogwarts castle and to an extent her common room, just without the deep hues of red and gold.
The village itself was quiet, with a few shops and lots of houses with elderly couples. It wasn't off putting in any way, just quiet. And there were no letters arriving for her at the cabin that faced directly towards the giant estate at the top of the hill, so Hermione was able to rest and focus on her schoolwork and light reading. When they weren't together her parents even hung about at the Hangmen's Pub. A morbid name, but they brought back interesting stories from the residents about past events that took place in the village and around the country.
"Oh Hermione, there was this darling older woman. She told me a story about that house on top of the hill there. I understand why it seems so imposing now. And, oh, there's even a murder mystery that surrounds it!" Mrs. Granger had gotten very interested in the idea of murder mysteries when Hermione had started to go to school. As it was something that could keep her guessing without being fully unknown. It kept her grounded when her daughter wasn't around. "Apparently the entire family that owned the estate was found years ago and the only one who was around after their murders had been their groundskeeper, and-"
"Jean, you'll scare the poor girl." Mr. Granger cut off his wife before she could continue. "Hermione, if you're interested in the story we've heard I am sure your mother would love to share it with you. However, if you would prefer to continue reading ahead in your classes, we can leave you to that as well." Always calm and easy going, he sighed as he stepped in to the door of their cabin and removed his shoes as his wife followed suit, blushing. Hermione was curled up on a rocking chair with a crochet blanket draped over her knees.
As they fully stepped in to the cabin, Hermione smiled up at them. "I'd love to hear the story, honestly. This year I believe that we are going to be moving towards more analytical ways of thinking regarding how we deal with situations. So, if the story in this little town is anything like mum's books, I'd like to pick it apart." Hermione closed her Charms textbook and wiped her hands on her blanket before turning her full attention to her parents.
Mrs. Granger smiled and sat down across from her daughter on the couch. "So, years ago there was a family that lived in the estate. They were a bit uppity and very few people in the village cared for them. They kept to themselves and never left their home unless they had to." Hermione nodded and kept her eyes on her mother. "One night however, individuals around the village heard some sounds coming from the estate. The family was all found dead with only their groundskeeper surviving. However, there were no wounds found at all, so the groundskeeper was let go."
Hermione stared at her parents. "I'm sorry, but no wounds?" They nodded at her. As she became deep in thought she stared at her Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook which was situated under Charms. She raised her eyebrow and laughed for a moment to make her parents think that she was more at ease. "That's dreadful and unfortunate, but I can only imagine that whoever did that was incredibly smart and knew exactly what they wanted to accomplish and whom they wanted to frame. I doubt that the groundskeeper would still care for the estate at this time if he was the one to do it."
Her mother nodded at her and they laughed a little together while going through ideas of who could have done the deed before they made and ate dinner together. Hermione waited until her parents shuffled up the creaking stairs to their bed before she grabbed her textbook. Something had seemed off, she just had to figure out what it was.
Hermione already knew, she really didn't need her textbook. But it offered her something to solidify her thoughts. She read a passage aloud to herself, "The Killing Curse – also known as Avada Kedavra – is a tool of the Dark Arts and one of the three Unforgivable Curses. It is one of the most powerful as well as sinister spells known in the world. When cast on a living person or creature the curse causes instantaneous and painless death, without causing any injury to the body, and without any trace of violence." Rolling her eyes along the pages, she repeated herself, "…without causing any injury to the body, and without a trace of violence."
Hermione thought for a moment about what she had read. And she began to wonder about what kind of magical history this little muggle village held. Who knew about what had taken place here? Had the ministry been made aware? Surely so, but why would they have let an innocent man be left to be suspected of crimes years later? There had to be more. And as she was Hermione Granger, she had to know. With this new information available to her there was something else that she would be able to focus on that wasn't schoolwork or her letters.
This was something that she could focus on and find out more about that was just for her to know.
With her parents asleep at the late hour, and a bit of Gryffindor courage pushing her along. She wanted to go see for herself what the estate held. And after years of being friends with Harry and Ron there was almost no question in her mind when she rushed out of the cabin and started to walk upwards towards the hill. And seeing lights on within the bottom of the manor only encouraged her to continue walking instead of ignoring what was happening. It was as if the last letter before she had left her home was aware that this would happen. And this was the beginning of Hermione's end.
"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione. Oh what will you do?"