Hermione examined the facts again carefully. She sifted each piece of information through her mind with care, working through the problem slowly and methodically as she had done every day for the past few months. She already knew the solution. There was after all, only one satisfactory answer; the same answer that she had found again and again, day after day. But today was the day that she had to take action and before doing so she needed to convince herself of her own logic. She nodded to herself. Yes, it was the only solution. Her course of action was clear. She let her impeccable logic fill her with strength for what was to come. Just because she knew that what she was about to do was the only satisfactory solution that didn't mean it was easy… and it wasn't easy. In some strange way the task before her today was more daunting than the prospect of the coming war or facing Voldermort.
She gazed around her room, stripped of everything precious to her and anything that might be useful. Her bookshelves looked so sad, practically bare apart from one or two old magazines and a few dog-eared novels. Hermione had never had bare bookshelves in her life… She ran her finger over the bare wood and sighed. In the past few months, for the very first time, Hermione had envied the pure-blood witches and wizards and wished that she was not a muggle-born. Pure-bloods like Ron still had their parents, older, stronger and wiser, to protect them in these dark times. Whereas for muggle-borns like Herminone… Well, her parents didn't even know of the horror to come. They couldn't protect her from it, as much as they might want to. She hadn't even been able to share her fears with them. How comforting it would have been to have confided in her mum and dad, to feel her mum's arms encircle her and to hear her dad, strong and determined, say that it would be alright. But she couldn't risk it and so the roles were reversed. It fell to Herminone to protect her parents; to keep them safe.
It was hard to grow up all at once and Hermione didn't have anyone she could really share this with. Well, Ron and Ginny listened sympathetically but how could they truly understand when they still had the comfort of The Burrow to call home? After today, Hermione would be homeless… practically an orphan… Of course, she couldn't talk to Harry about this. Harry would understand her pain much better than Ron or Ginny could but Harry's own loss was so much greater. She wouldn't burden Harry with her own emotional turmoil. Besides, he had enough to be getting on with.
Hermione looked around her room one last time, her eyes searching for anything that she might have missed. But even as she did it she knew that she was stalling. It was all in her beaded purse. Crookshanks, who had been sleeping on her bed, yawned and stretched, turned his head to the side and stared at Hermione questioningly.
"Yes, I know," Hermione said, sitting next to him on her bed and scratching behind his ears, "It is time, isn't it?" She sighed and paused in her petting of Crookshanks to gather up the pamphlets on immigrating to Australia that were spread across her bed. Hermione smiled as she imagined her mother and father settled in a small beach town, running a busy dental practice, finishing their work days with a stroll along the beach. Her father had travelled around Australia as a young man and he often regaled Hermione with stories of his travels. She knew it was one of the happiest times of his life. He had always wanted to take Herminone and her mum there and her mum had always wanted to go. She loved the seaside. If the worst happened and Hermione never appeared to reclaim them… well, they would be happy.
Hermione's eyes filled with tears and she leant in to cuddle Crookshanks, "I'm losing my parents today, Crookshanks, and I don't know when I'll see them again. I may never see them again. "
Crookshanks rubbed his head into Hermione to comfort her. Hermione gulped back a sob and pulled herself together, wiping away her tears as she stood carefully. She carefully picked up the pamphlets, her beaded purse and her wand.
Crookshanks nodded and jumped up running to Hermione's bedroom door and looking back at her. Hermione smiled, "Yes, I know, it must be done. I have to keep them safe. It is time. Come with me, Crookshanks?"
Hermione followed Crookshanks downstairs determinedly, shutting the door to her childhood bedroom for the last time. She paused for a moment to carefully spread the pamphlets across the dining room table and then followed her parents' voices to the sitting room. Although she moved slowly it seemed to take only a second to find herself standing at her sitting room door, watching her parents talking to each other. It was the right thing to do and Hermione would do it no matter what it cost her. She would protect the people she loved the most even if that took them far away from her. She would jump courageously into adulthood; protecting her own parents from horrors they couldn't begin to understand. Hermione was not sorted into Gryffindor for nothing. Their conservation, the last words she might ever hear them speak, were drowned out by the thumping of her own heart as she raised her wand and whispered, "fallasere deceptio"
Note: Hermione whispers fallasere deceptio rather than oblivate to be consistent with book-canon. In the books, it is stated that Hermione casts a false memory charm. From how it is described it seems to be a different spell to obliviate which simply removes memories. The incantation is never mentioned so I made one up.