Tears.

Trailing down my sun kissed cheeks. I sniffle and wipe the corners of my mocha brown eyes with the back of my small hand. These tears are bittersweet.

''Hermione, why are you crying?'' asks my husband, lovable and ginger.

I let out a agonizing sigh.

''Because Rose is leaving!'' I scream at Ron.

''Do you have everything? Schoolbooks, cauldron, robes, owl? Remember to write every week!'' I lecture my beautiful daughter Rose.

''I know Mum! You've told me bout one hundred times! Shove off!'' hollers Rose, giving me a dirty glance.

Her words pain me. They show me I'm not needed anymore. Hugo, my other child, is going away to my parent's house for the year.

After the war, I found my parents again. Everyone told me to give up, stop trying.

Ron supported me though. He would kiss me softly every night before bed, and whisper, ''Hermione Jean Granger, you are so bloody hell smart. I know you'll find them.''

The same fourteen words. Every night. Like a comforting song, the hopeful words echoing through my mind when I was in dought.

The hogwarts train, black, sleek and shiny, comes and goes in a blur, the aching words of goodbye still in my mouth.

Tears.

Trailing down my sun kissed cheeks. I sniffle and wipe the corners of my mocha brown eyes with the back of my small hand.

These tears are bittersweet.