Author's Note: This has been slightly edited from its original version.
Her parents didn't hear her entering the room. Their eyes remained glued on the television, completely oblivious to the fact that she was standing right behind them.
The news on the television was ordinary, Muggle news. There was nothing to indicate that wizards and witches really existed, and that they weren't just the product of fantasy, both good and bad.
Her parents didn't know that all the families that had been murdered recently had been murdered by Death Eaters because they were Muggles.
Her parents didn't even know about the Death Eaters.
Hermione felt guilty for keeping so much from her parents. They had always supported her. They had supported her when she had done all those strange things as a small child that couldn't be explained with any form of logic. They had supported her when they had found out that she was a witch.
Her parents had been forced into a strange world so that she could buy all the supplies that she would need to go to Hogwarts.
Her parents had always looked so out of place in Diagon Alley, dressed in their Muggle clothing, while everyone else around them were dressed in their robes.
Despite all this, though, her parents had never complained. In fact, they had always expressed how proud they were of her. And during her breaks, they had always been eager to hear all about the things that she had learned.
Her parents had not even complained when she had spent so much time with the Weasleys instead of with them. They had understood that their daughter had needed to be with other people that could do magic like her. They had understood that there was a difference between them and her because of her magic. They could support her magic all they wanted, but they could never fully understand her magic because they didn't have it themselves.
Hermione did not regret any of the time that she had spent with the Weasleys. She loved them like a second family.
But now, she did regret not spending more time with her first family, with her real, biological family. They weren't a wizard and a witch; but they always loved her unconditionally, and they had never looked at her in hatred or in fear. They had never considered her "evil" for having magic. They knew that their precious little girl would never use her powers to cause harm to anyone. She was a witch, but she was still their Hermione. She was still their daughter who they had raised from infancy.
She really did regret keeping so many secrets from them.
Hermione had not told her parents that the Wizarding World was at war because she had been afraid that they would try to keep her from returning to Hogwarts. And she couldn't have that happening. She needed to be with people that could fully understand her. She needed to go to school in order to learn how to become the best witch possible. She had to be a witch, no matter the cost.
Because of Hermione, her parents thought that the Wizarding World was a truly happy place. There were a few nasty people, of course. Her parents had not forgotten seeing Lucius Malfoy in the bookshop. But Hermione had insisted to her parents that it wasn't often she came across people like him.
Her parents didn't even know that she had been Petrified in her second year. The Ministry had not wanted Dumbledore reporting to the families of the Muggle-born students that they were being targeted for their blood status. The Ministry had not wanted to risk losing their Muggle-born population at Hogwarts.
And Hermione had not want her parents trying to keep her from returning to Hogwarts for her third year. She needed Hogwarts more than anything else. Hogwarts represented who she really was, a girl with magical abilities who was surrounded by boys and girls that also had magical abilities.
Of course, Hermione would have preferred it if her years at Hogwarts had been less eventful and less dangerous. At the same time, though, she would never want to give up any of those years she had spent learning how to become a witch. Nor would she ever want to give up all her years of friendship with Harry and Ron.
Hermione, however, still felt guilty for keeping so much from her parents.
And she was already feeling guilty for what she was about to do.
At the same time, though, she truly believed that this would be the best way to keep them safe.
She didn't want to read about her parents being murdered by Death Eaters in the Daily Prophet.
Even though a part of Hermione wanted to tell her parents everything, another part of her realized that they couldn't know the truth. If they knew the truth, they probably would try to get her to go into hiding with them.
But Hermione knew that Harry needed her. So, her parents couldn't know the truth. She couldn't have anything preventing her from being there for Harry and from helping him in any way that she could.
Everyone called her the brightest witch of her age. It was time to find out if that was indeed the truth.
Hermione raised up her wand pointed it at the backs of her parents' heads, and she whispered the word, "Obliviate."
Inside her head, she was also whispering the words, "I'm sorry."
But there was no way her parents could know the truth.