"I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed - or worse, expelled. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

Hermione stalked off, leaving the two boys alone in the corridor staring at each other. She ran up the steps and burst into the Gryffindor common room, not stopping until she had gotten up the steps of the girls dormitories. She yanked her bed curtains closed and said a simple silencing charm to keep unwanted sounds from escaping. Clothes changed, she pulled the covers up to her head and took a deep breath.

Only then did she let herself begin to cry.

Expulsion- her worst fear. She could remember the day she got her Hogwarts letter. It was everything to her; a place where nobody knew her, where she would be accepted, liked, even, and not considered a freak.

A place away from her parents and home.

Hermione smiled sadly. She could remember that day, remember crying herself to sleep, remember waking up the next morning and praying to all that would listen that nobody had noticed her slip. After all, normal kids wouldn't rather be killed than expelled.

But that hadn't happened. Ron, being the obtuse male that he was, hadn't noticed a thing. But Harry, Harry was different. She could remember their first real conversation the following day.

"Hey! Hey, wait up!" Hermione ignored the call, instead speeding up, moving as fast as she could without running, which was prohibited in the halls.

"Hey!" The footsteps sped up, until she was sure that the person behind her really was running. She spun around, angrily.

"You shouldn't run in the halls!" she snapped, facing the small black haired boy who had been pursuing her. His eyes widened as he noticed she had stopped, though he couldn't control his momentum and ran into her, knocking them both to the ground.

Quills and books spilled all over a thoroughly annoyed Hermione Granger who jumped to her feet ready to give a lecture on the fact that not running in the halls was meant to prevent this very thing from happening. She looked down, expecting to see Harry, the boy who had been following her, picking himself up.

Instead, he was lying on the floor, clutching his ribs. "Ohmygosh!" Hermione stuttered, "are you okay?" A groan was all she got in response. Worried, she picked him up and carried him to a nearby abandoned classroom.

She pulled his robes off and was shocked to see a livid purpling bruise all down the side of his ribcage. She pushed lightly on the affected area, making Harry hiss in pain, and quickly deduced that he had a broken rib.

"I'm so sorry!" she cried.

"Not your fault," he grunted in return, "this isn't new." Hermione wasn't sure what he meant by that, but she wrote it off as simple pain stress.

"I'll need to take you down to Madame Pomfrey," she said, "I don't have the practice needed to heal this."

"NO!" Harry gasped. "I mean, can't you do it?" There was some hint of desperation in his voice that made her agree.

"I- I can try," she said doubtfully. "Ribario!" she said, sparks traveling from her wand down into his flesh. There was the distinctive sound of a rib popping back into place accompanied by a loud 'Ouch!', and the purpling area faded out to yellow.

Harry looked down in surprise. "Thanks!" he said, stretching. Hermione pursed her lips.

"What do you mean this wasn't a new injury?"

Harry frowned. "What do you mean, or worse, expelled?" Hermione blushed.

"I asked first."

Harry's eyebrow raised. "This was all brought up because I ran into you when I was trying to ask you my question."

"Fine." Hermione flushed. "But you have to answer next." Harry sighed.

"Alright."

"I- my parents don't get along well." She paused. "They both started drinking, and somehow, that didn't make them get along any better." Hermione laughed nervously. "It's not bad, but..." Harry nodded solemnly. "Well, what's your story?" she asked.

"Well, it started a few days before term, when I burned the bacon-"

Hermione frowned. That had been the start of many long talks which brought them closer together, but the content had been more than disturbing. She could remember stories of days spent locked in cupboards, many missed meals, and even the occasional smack or two from minor offenses. She had tried to tell someone, but Harry had always made her swear not to.

That was their deal, after all; nothing that passed between the two during any of their meetings was ever mentioned to anyone else. A hard bargain, especially as she so wanted to help Harry, but worth it- she gained a confidante, something she had never had before.

She only wished that is hadn't gotten worse.

"It's not funny, Ron," said Hermione sharply. "Honestly, I'm amazed Harry wasn't expelled." Hermione could see Harry look at her worriedly as he always did when she mentioned expulsion. She had told him of her fear of being kicked out just two years before, and now he worried every time it was even brought up.

Hermione looked him over. He was definitely worse for the wear, though that wasn't surprising given the circumstances. Thinner, for sure, and his eyes had lost a bit of their sparkle. She thought she could even see the faintest trace of bruise on his upper arm.

For days, Hermione worried about Harry. He seemed to be avoiding her, and she wanted to be able to heal him as she knew he wouldn't go to Madame Pomfrey. Finally, she had him cornered in the Astronomy tower.

"Harry!" she cried. "Come on!" She grabbed him by his arm, but when he flinched away from her violently, she dropped him as if he were on fire. "Harry?" she whispered.

Seemingly knowing there was no way to back out, Harry pulled Hermione out into an empty chamber where they wouldn't be annoyed. As soon as they were alone, Hermione ripped off his robes, exposing his bare chest.

His bare, beaten, covered in purple bruises chest.

She gasped, ghosting her fingers over him lightly, causing him to hiss in pain. She looked up, her eyes asking an unstated question.

"When I blew up Aunt Marge," he said with a grimace. "I didn't manage to get away in time."

She shook her head. "Harry, you've got to tell someone."

"No!" he said, shaking his head violently. "No, you can't tell!" He was so distraught she gave in.

"Alright, alright. But still, Harry..."

"What?"

"If it gets too bad... I just don't want to lose you too."

Those secluded classroom healings had become a part of their routine too.She would heal his extensive bruising, and for weeks after attempt to get him to eat food until he was in a normal rhythm again. And every year it would get worse, and she would worry that the next time he wouldn't come back.

A five year old Hermione peered out of the crack of light in the cupboard, looking out at the two adults fighting and shouting. She whimpered as her father got particularly nasty, and then the door slammed meaning that her mother had left. She could hear heavy, off center footsteps coming her way, and she huddled herself closer to the back wall.

The closet door squeaked open, and a large face loomed over her. She could smell the alcohol on the man's breath.

"Whater ya doing in here?" he slurred. "Little girls don't hide in closets. Not normal ones."

Hermione sobbed, unable to stop the tears. "Whater ya crying for? Are you crying for your ungrateful bitch of a mother?" His voice escalated until he was shouting, spit flying from his mouth. He yanked her up and led her by her collar into her room, slamming and locking the door.

"Daddy!" Hermione cried, beating her fists against the wall. "Daddy, no!"

Hands were holding her, shaking her, and she cried out. "Please, daddy, let go!"

Hermione woke with a start, still screaming, trying to shake off hands, until she caught a sight of bright green eyes and immediately calmed down. The eyes stared at her.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Harry asked. Hermione looked down at the essay she had fallen asleep working on, now wrinkled and torn. She gathered Harry up into a hug, startling him.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I am."

The closet had such different meanings for them. For Hermione, it was a symbol of escape, where she could attempt to block out the shouting. For Harry it was imprisonment, days on end of being shut up and not fed. Still, there was one thing in common- bad memories.

"Obliviate," Hermione whispered, pointing her wand at each of her parents in turn.

She had painstakingly created a cover story for them, a couple who had always wanted to move to Australia. She had tried to create a realistic balance of emotion to the cover, to not make it so unreal that Death Eaters would see through it.

She couldn't deny that she had perhaps added a bit more attraction than necessary to the balance. A bit more chemistry.

She couldn't find it in herself to be guilty about it, either.

She could remember the pictures of her fading, of her crayon drawings made by a two year old before everything had gone wrong just melt away. Though she knew that it meant she would be gone from their lives forever, she wasn't too sad about it.

She guessed that was kind of a testament to how miserable her life had been there.

"Hermione? Are you coming or are you staying?"

"Ron!"

"I get it. I saw you two last night."

"RON!"

Hermione could see him slipping out of the tent. She wanted to follow him- not to leave, but to get him to stay, but then she looked back and she knew she couldn't.

Harry was watching her, tense, almost like a deer that had sensed danger. She could see in his eyes that fear, the fear of rejection, and in that moment, she couldn't leave.

She walked to him and hugged him.

"Don't worry. Ron will come around."

Though it killed her to just let Ron leave, it was almost made up by the relief in Harry's eyes as he realized that she wouldn't abandon him.

Almost.

There was that time, the time in which Ron had been gone, where things were almost like they had been in first year. Harry confided in her more and more, and she in him.

But still, the fact that Ron was gone cancelled any wish she might have had that things would stay the way they were.

"Assuming I survive our hunt for the Horcruxes, I'll find Mum and Dad and lift the enchantment. If I don't – well, I think I've cast a good enough charm to keep them safe and happy. Wendell and Monica Wilkins don't know that they've got a daughter, you see."

And now she was here, debating for the fortieth time whether or not to remove the charm. She would have, at first, just to give them their old life back. And yet.

And yet, she had been observing them for days, and they seemed the happiest couple in the world. They were chatty, involved in neighborhood affairs with the cleanest, best kept house on the block.

Her mother even had a rose garden, which she had wanted for years.

Hermione was pulled out of her musings by the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway. The door slammed- and a five year old girl got out.

"Did you have a good time at summer camp, sweetie?" the so called 'Monica Wilkins' called. The little girl was swept up into a big hug, and 'Wendell' came over and gave his wife a kiss on the cheek.

"She didn't even want to leave!" he proclaimed.

Hermione sat shell shocked. They had had another child? This was her sister?

Then she forced herself to be reasonable. The girl was five- it had been only a little over two years since she had placed the charms. She must have been adopted.

Not knowing what she was doing, Hermione came out from behind the bush she was in. She approached the little family who eyed her warily.

"Do you like your family?" she asked the little girl.

The girl looked at her quizzically, like she didn't know what on earth Hermione could mean.

"Of course! I've got mommy and daddy, and Charlie, our doggy, and a nice big house!" Hermione smiled.

"Do we know you?" Monica asked.

"No," Hermione said. "No, you don't."

Gack! Oh god, people of Fanfiction forgive me. I just wanted to put a sort of dark spin on harmless quotes... Not at all how this turned out

"I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed - or worse, expelled. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

-Sorcerer's Stone

"It's not funny, Ron," said Hermione sharply. "Honestly, I'm amazed Harry wasn't expelled."

-Prisoner of Azkaban

"Hermione? Are you coming or are you staying?"

"Ron!"

"I get it. I saw you two last night."

"RON!"
- Screenplay Deathly Hallows Part 1

"Assuming I survive our hunt for the Horcruxes, I'll find Mum and Dad and lift the enchantment. If I don't – well, I think I've cast a good enough charm to keep them safe and happy. Wendell and Monica Wilkins don't know that they've got a daughter, you see."

-Deathly Hallows