Title: Nobody's Home
Summary: She wants to go home, but nobody's home. Hermione's home is destroyed. Can her friends help?
Disclaimer: I don't own anything HP-related and I don't own the song either. It's an Avril Lavigne song which I just happen to love.
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I couldn't tell you why she felt that way,
She felt it everyday.
Don't know where she belongs, where she belongs.
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She is scared. I can see it in her eyes. Feel it in the way she tries to avoid me. We both know it won't make things better. Still, she tries. She no longer knows where she fits in. Does she belong in the Muggle world? With her parents? Or does she belong at Hogwarts with us? She is scared that they will get hurt. Torn between spending time researching things that could help them and spending time at home while she still can.
It is only a matter of time after all. Voldemort knows her. Knows about her. If only we hadn't befriended her in first year. If only...She wouldn't have to worry then. She'd be safe, because her parents were Muggles and the chance of Voldemort killing them was slim to none. Well, yes, of course they could get killed but it wouldn't be something directed at them. It would be an accident.
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What's wrong, what's wrong now?
Too many, too many problems.
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I wish I could help her but she won't let me. She shies away from me, feeling guilty for doing so. I understand. I just wish I could tell her that. I lost my parents before I ever had the chance to get to know them. Losing them now, when you've had sixteen years worth of memories...it must be so much harder.
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She wants to go home, but nobody's home.
It's where she lies, broken inside.
With no place to go, no place to go to dry her eyes.
Broken inside.
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And then comes the day that Dumbledore asks us to meet him in his office. Ron and me immediately sense that something's wrong. We are excused from class and run all the way up to the Gargoyle. Hermione wasn't in class, which had us shifting uncomfortably all day. It was nothing like her. Would this be the news we had been fearing?
It was. Dumbledore's voice is serious and his eyes no longer twinkle as he tells us about the death of Hermione's parents. I never even knew their names but I feel so connected to them now. It makes me so much more determined to destroy Voldemort. I know Ron is thinking the same and Dumbledore must be guessing our thoughts because he speaks wise words.
"Miss Granger needs your help now. We will get Voldemort later."
He holds a little bag in his hand and I know it's Floopowder because he gestures towards the fireplace.
"I've connected her house to my personal fireplace. Go."
I know he is worried and I try to speak words of comfort, but can't seem to find anything. He merely nods at my attempt and wishes us good luck. I have the feeling we are going to need it.
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Her feelings she hides.
Her dreams she can't find.
She's losing her mind.
She's fallen behind.
She can't find her place.
She's losing her faith.
She's fallen from grace.
She's all over the place.
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We find her, lying on the floor which is soaked with blood. I hear Ron gasp and suppress the urge to vomit. This isn't Voldemorts usual style. This was...I guess personal is the best word to describe it. Her parents are still there. Their faces are contorted and I know they used the Cruciatus curse. Why? Wasn't just killing them enough? Did they really want to hurt Hermione so bad? Voldemort must have seen that we were nowhere without our brave and bright friend.
She's not so brave and bright now. She just lies there, sobbing. She must have heard us come in but I'm not sure she cares right now. I bet she would just keep lying still even if Voldemort himself came back. And I know, once and for all, that she realised exactly where her place was just now. I know that she would give up everything she had – including her magic – if she would get her parents back this way.
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She's lost inside, lost inside...oh oh
She's lost inside, lost inside...oh oh yeah
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I don't dare to comfort her, and watch as Ron cradles her in his arms. Would she hate me now? I guess I would if I had been her. That's why, instead of comforting her like a friend, I watch her quietly, planning my revenge.
More importantly, planning her revenge. Because it is the only thing a friend like me can do.
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