Okay. So I had published this story before but I got so busy with school, work and my baby that I spaced it. SORRY GUYS! But I missed writing so I looked it over and started again. Hope you enjoy!
I do not own anything just the story line.
Her dark, brown eyes glowed golden in the firelight and tears streamed down her flushed cheeks as her body lay face down on the expensive area rug. A dark shadow loomed over her, the shadow of a man who she loved dearly. She didn't think things could have gotten this bad even when the war was still fresh on her young mind. The man turned to the young woman. She could barely see the brown eyes that were exactly like her own, only instead of love they held hatred and sorrow.
Charles Granger held a bottle of liquor up to his lips as he gazed at his daughter who was face down on the area rug that he had bought his wife as a birthday present years ago. Something joyous was now a symbol of death to him. He took a big swig before he spoke to the girl lying before him. He set the bottle on the turned over coffee table before leaning down and grabbing her by her hair and yanked her up so she was face to face.
"You have ruined our lives," his glare was of pure hatred. "Why couldn't you just leave us…me alone? Everything that has happened is entirely your fault, you dirty little bitch." He then threw her back down to the ground. Blood started pouring down her face out of the open wound now on her head.
Hermione tried looking up at her father, but all she saw were blurry shadows. She wanted to say so much yet nothing at the same time. There was so much that she already said when she found her father in Australia living under the names she had given him and her mother when she wiped their memories clean before the war, Wendell and Monica Wilkins. She had hoped they had stayed safe from Voldemort and his Death Eaters, unfortunately they weren't safe from the other human consequences.
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.
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The war had finally ended with Harry killing Voldemort in the Battle at Hogwarts. There were many, many deaths from both sides and the world seemed to stand still as they buried the dead. The Golden Trio mourned for Tonks, Lupin, Fred, all the Order members and all the innocent people that had perished in this epic battle that will go down into the history books.
Now, six months had passed and the Wizarding World was on its way to becoming normal, or at least as normal as it could be. Hermione found herself sitting in an armchair at Grimmauld Place with a book placed in her lap while the cold November wind blew outside making the boards creak. Her eyes skimmed the pages, although not really reading what was written on them. Her mind was in a far off place and had been since the war, everyone's' minds were always thinking of that fateful, glorious day. Her mind was jolted from her thoughts when her two best friends walked into the room.
Harry Potter, same shaggy black hair, piercing green eyes, and now no longer a boy at the age of eighteen. Of course, he had never really been an average boy. We all know the story of the Boy-Who-Lived. He had fought in war and lived to tell the tale, twice. He still had the signs of bags under his eyes from nights without any sleep, nightmares of the war plaguing him. But now the bags were decreasing each day as the nightmares seem to fade. Happiness radiated from him as everyone knew the Dark Lord would never be any trouble again.
And then there was Ronald Weasley, same flaming, red hair, blue eyes and over six feet tall even when Hermione and Harry had met him in their first year at Hogwarts. The boy who was now a man, a man that had finally realized Hermione's feelings for him and finally acted on them during the Final Battle in the Chamber of Secrets. He was also a man she could call her boyfriend.
Harry and Ron were granted permanent Auror jobs right after the war to help catch the last of the Death Eaters and finally put an end to Voldemort's reign. As they stood in front of her, Harry held up a cream colored envelope with Hermione's name neatly printed on the front. Their faces were grinning with mischief when Hermione finally asked what they were hiding.
Harry looked at Ron and started to answer her question, "Well, 'Mione…"
Hermione threw up her hand at once, "You know I hate it when you call me that."
"Yes we know. But after we tell you the good news, you won't care what we call you," Ron's grin grew bigger as Hermione's eyes grew with confusion.
"And pray-tell what is the good news?" She then stood up and marched up to them to grab the envelope. But Harry held it above her five foot five inch body and out of her reach. "C'mon you two."
"Say please." Both boys said in unison.
"I swear you two are Fred and George reincarnated." All three of their faces dropped at the mention of Fred's name. But Hermione took the opportunity to grab the envelope and run back to her maroon armchair next to the fireplace. She opened the envelope and just read the first line when she screamed so loud Harry and Ron had to cover their ears.
"YOU FOUND THEM!"
The boys smiled. "WE FOUND THEM!"
Hermione stood back up and threw her arms around her best friends, tears streaming down her face and a big smile plastered on her face. "I can't believe it! Thank you so much!" She hugged Harry again and gave Ron a big kiss on the cheek.
"We knew you would be happy, 'Mione." Harry said.
"I'm more than happy. I get to see my parents again. I miss them so much, you have no idea," she looked at her friends and smiled knowing that they did have an idea of what she meant. Albeit, Harry's parents could not come back from the dead and Ron's brother couldn't be brought back either.
Harry broke the silence. "When are you going to see them?"
Hermione thought for a second. "I guess I could surprise them for Christmas. Maybe I can get them to move back to London if they are not mad at what I had to do to them." Hermione sighed at the revelation. "What if they don't forgive me?"
Ron put his arms around his girlfriend as hugged her close. "They would be crazy not to forgive you. They'll be happy that you did it to protect them."
Hermione looked up at him and smiled. She loved it when he was so sensitive to her feelings, unlike how he was in the past. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Ron on the lips. Ron pulled her closer to deepen the kiss. A cough from Harry brought them back to reality, Hermione's cheeks burning from embarrassment.
"I'm going to go to the Burrow and see Ginny before I puke." He turned towards the fireplace and grabbed a hand-full of green powder. He yelled his destination before disappearing into the green flames.
After Harry was gone, Ron grabbed Hermione by the hand and ushered her to the couch. "Now that he's gone…" Ron leaned over and placed his lips over Hermione's again, his hand finding its way to the hem of her skirt.
Hermione pushed his hand away and sighed. "You know I'm not ready for that yet, Ronald."
Ron grunted and stood up. "We've been together for over six months, Hermione, and we have yet to have sex. Sometimes I wonder if we ever will. I have needs, you know?"
Hermione stood up and stared at him angrily. "Well, I am so sorry that I cannot 'satisfy' those needs, Ronald. I'm just not ready to give myself up to you just yet. I've told you I want to wait until we get married."
"I understand that, but Hermione…I love you. And I know I want to be with you for the rest of my life." He smiled that boyish smile she fell in love with. How could she stay mad at him?
"I love you too, Ronald. I'm just still not ready. "She stood on her tiptoes and gave a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'm going to bed. I'll see you and Harry in the morning." Hermione then ran upstairs and into the room that she gladly called her own.
Ron watched as Hermione walked away and couldn't help himself from glaring at her butt as it swayed when she walked and ran up the stairs. "Dammit," he mumbled to himself as he felt his erection throb. "Not what am I going to do?" He then took a pinch of powder and whispered his destination.
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Hermione went to bed that night dreaming of her reuniting with her parents. And when she awoke in the morning, she had made up her mind about seeing them for Christmas. She would fly to Sydney on the 22nd and be there by the 24th. She still dreaded that they could hate her for what she had done, but her parents were really forgiving and she was their only daughter.
Where she went downstairs to the kitchen she found Harry sipping tea and reading The Daily Prophet. "Mornin' 'Mione."
The woman sighed at the nickname that she really hated, but decided to just let it slide. "Good morning, Harry. When did you get back?" She knew that Harry and Ginny were closer than what everyone else had been led to believe, especially Mrs. Weasley.
"Around three. Where's Ron?" Harry took another sip from his mug and set down The Prophet.
Hermione looked at him with confusion. "What do you mean 'Where's Ron?' He didn't stay here last night. He left shortly after you did." Hermione started fidgeting with her hands at the thought that something could have happened to her boyfriend. She knew there were still rogue Death Eaters out there that would love to have the Golden Trios' heads on their mantle.
Harry shook his head, "Never showed up. I just assumed you let him stay the night. Where could he have gone?" Harry and Hermione exchanged worried looks and ran to the fireplace to Floo to the Borrow.
Upon arriving they found the Weasley family just sitting down to breakfast. Mrs. Weasley beamed at the pair as their eyes wondered around the kitchen.
"Hello, dearies. Would you like some breakf…"
"Where's Ronald?" Hermione cut Molly short since she didn't find Ron's face in the room full of redheads. Everyone glanced at her like they didn't know what she was talking about.
As if on cue, the Floo opened up and walked out was a messy-haired Ronald in the same clothes he wore the day before. He looked around and noticed not only his family, but his girlfriend was also present. His face turned crimson.
Hermione looked stunned at him. "Where have you been?" Her voice faltered from being nervous about his answer.
Ron looked around the room once more before he grabbed Hermione's hand and led her out the door and into the garden. "'Mione, I can explain…"
"Well please do, Ronald, because I am too stupid to realize where you have been from see you wearing the same clothes you had on last night when you left." She had tears streaming down her face as she stared at her 'boyfriend' who was still fumbling for the words to say to her.
"Fine," he spoke with a little more courage than he had. "I went to Lavender's last night when I left. I told you I had needs, Hermione, and you weren't giving me what I wanted."
The tears were coming faster and her mind was going through all the happy times they had had together when he first asked her to be his girlfriend. All the times they talked about getting married, all the little redheaded kids they were going to have. And he just ruined it all. She loved him; at least she thought she did. But now looking at him she couldn't be sure. "I thought you loved me, Ronald."
He grabbed her by the shoulders, harshly, which made her wince. "I do, Hermione."
She looked into his blue eyes and shook her head. "I don't believe you." She yanked herself from his grasps and started running. She ran until she was sure she was out of the Burrow barrier so she could apparate back to Grimmauld Place. Once she was in the safe haven of her room, she threw herself onto her bed and let all the emotions out.
She wasn't sure when she had fallen asleep, but it was dark outside. Her face was raw from the crying and screaming into her pillow. She opened her door and yelled for Harry to see if he was home. When there was no answer, she turned and grabbed her school trunk out from her closet. 'I can't stay here anymore,' she thought to herself as she started packing her clothes and books into her trunk.
When she was sure all was pack and she had forgotten nothing, she took out a piece of parchment and quill and wrote a small note to Harry.
Dear Harry,
It hurts too much to stay when I know Ron can come and try to apologize at any time. I'm really not sure if I can stand to see him after what he has done.
I decided not to wait until Christmas to find my parents, so I'm leaving tonight. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you in person, but I'm in too much pain to talk to anyone. I will owl any news. I will miss you.
Love,
'Mione
She smiled at her signature. She knew that would make him happy. With one last look at her new home, she signaled a taxi that took her to the airport. There she said good-bye to London and hoped she would come home soon with her parents.
Hermione got the last ticket to Australia and was sitting on the plane next to a very old lady with bright white hair and a navy jumpsuit on. Since this was a long flight, everyone should have worn something very comfortable. Hermione herself didn't think about the long flight, plus it was short notice, so she was stuck in a pair of skinny jeans and a yellow jumper.
As the plane took off, Hermione pulled out a potion's book that she had disguised to look like a muggle magazine. She wasn't sure if Hogwarts would be opening soon since it was practically destroyed during the war, however she didn't want her brain to get rusty in case she did make it back to school. She also wasn't sure Harry and Ron would go back to school since they had jobs already. Hermione was offered tons of jobs from the Ministry of Magic, but she turned them down. She wanted to take a break from anything war related; almost a year on the run would do that to anyone.
"Anything new going on in the world, dear?" The old lady asked as she took out her knitting. A nice scarf was starting to form out of her purple yarn.
Hermione looked up and smiled. "Not really. Same old, same old."
There was a twinkle in the old lady's eyes as she stole glances at the brunette. "I know who you are, you know?"
"Really?" There was slight sarcasm in Hermione's voice. She knew that every wizard and witch in the world knew who she was, so it wasn't a shocker. The thing that surprised her the most is the lady's calmness. 'Usually people bombard me with questions or autographs. Strange," she thought to herself as she set her book down and turned towards the woman. "Since you know who I am, may I ask who you are?"
And so the conversation went on between Hermione and the old lady, Matilda Hotkins. Matilda was on her way to visit her family who had left London to protect themselves from the war. The family included her daughter and her husband, plus their six kids. Hermione wouldn't let Matilda know exactly why she was heading to Australia, except to visit family. They talked a little about the war, but skipped on many of the details. They chatted the whole way to Sydney, except when they were sleeping of course during their twenty hour flight.
At the gate, Hermione said goodbye to Matilda and as they went their separate ways. Hermione left the airport in a taxi cab and told the man to take her to the address that was on the note Harry and Ron had given her. Just thinking about Ron made Hermione's stomach turn. She promised herself that she wouldn't think about him while she was with her parents. There was enough drama with her trying to explain herself and hope they wouldn't disown her or worse…hate her.
The taxi man dropped her off in front of an ugly, four story building. There were bricks missing everywhere, some windows were broken and there were homeless men sitting beside the stoop that lead to the faded front door.
'This can't be the right place.' Hermione's family wasn't rich, but they were not poor either. She had hoped they were still living out their dream of being dentists even in Sydney. 'Maybe they found the wrong people. I guess I can go to the address and ask.'
Hermione grabbed her small bag that held all of her shrunken items and opened the door. The address was on the fourth floor. Since there was no elevator she took the stairs. Every stair creaked and moaned with each step she took. She didn't run into any attendants as she made her way up, which she was very thankful. 'Who knows what type of people live here.'
She found the door that read 33 that matched her letter. She took a deep, shaky breath and knocked on the door. On the way up she thought of some sort of story to tell to get the person who actually lived at this address to help her find her parents. When there was no answer, she tried knocking again only louder.
"Shut the fuck up! I'm coming!" a male voice yelled through the door. The voice sounded a little familiar to Hermione, but she shrugged it off as the knob on the door started to turn. When the door finally opened, Hermione gasped at the man that now stood in front of her.
The man had dark brown hair that looked like it hadn't been washed in weeks. His eyes were chocolate brown, just like Hermione's, but they were swollen and red like he had been crying. He was wearing a dirty, white tank top and navy shorts that were torn at the bottoms. He smelled of alcohol and cigarettes. He had a sneer on his lips as he gazed at the women at his door. "What d' ya want?"
Hermione staggered back a little bit, 'This can't be him.' She almost forgot herself as she glared at the man who resembled her father. "Umm…I-I'm sorry to interrupt anything, but I'm lost and I was wondering if I could use your phone…" She remembered her small lie.
He groaned just a little and let her in. "Phone is in the kitchen."
Hermione followed him into the one bedroom apartment and headed to the kitchen. On her way she noticed the broken down couch, the turned over coffee table, the broken lamp in the corner of the room and the beer bottles lying everywhere. When she got to the kitchen there were dirty and clean dishes everywhere with mold growing on most of them. The smell alone was enough to make her throw up. She found the phone sitting next to a plate with chicken, mashed potatoes and some sort of green mold on top. She grabbed the phone and pretended to dial a random number. She looked back at her father and noticed he was too absorbed in the television to notice her.
She hung up the phone and quietly moved back into the living room. She stood behind the couch that Wendell was sitting in and she took a longer glance around the room. She noticed the pictures on a small bookshelf in the other corner of the room. She walked towards it and tears started to swell in her eyes. It was picture of him and her mom during Christmas time, if Hermione hadn't erased their memories she would be standing in the middle with a big smile on her face.
"What are you doin'? Don't touch those!" Wendell came over and grabbed her hand forcefully. Hermione could smell the liquor on his breath and it almost made her vomit on him.
"I'm sorry. I was just looking. I-Is that your wife?" She didn't want to make him angry, but she was curious as to where her mother was.
His features softened slightly at the mention of his wife. "Monica…" He whispered her name so soft that Hermione barely heard him. "She was my wife." He let Hermione go and strolled back to his place on the couch.
Hermione almost shrieked. "What happened?"
"She died in a car accident a few weeks, maybe a few months ago. I don't keep track." He took a swig of a nearby beer bottle.
Hermione had tears flowing down her face. How could her mother be dead? She sent them away to protect them. How could this happen? Hermione made a split decision and took out her wand and whispered the spell to give Wendell Wilkins the memory of Charles Granger. "Memini."
A bright light consumed the small room and disappeared almost as fast. She knew she should wait a little while for the memories to all be retrieved. When she heard her father take a gasp, she ran to his said. "Dad?"
He looked at her, his eyes glazed over as the memories came back into his mind. "H-H-Hermione?"
She smiled when he said her name even though the tears were coming at full force. "You remember. Oh, Dad. I am so sorry."
"Hermione what have you done?"
Hermione looked at him. She felt a little nervous because this was the hardest thing she was going to have to do. "I-I had to erase your memories to protect you and mum. The war was going on and there would have been Death Eaters after you and I wanted to protect you from them." She then went on and told her father about the war, being on the run, winning the war and all the people that had died.
Charles Granger didn't move while she talked, just listened quietly. When she was done she waited for his reaction. Hermione was hoping for joy that his only child was safe and that they were never going to be in danger again. But that was the total opposite…
And that is where Hermione found herself now. She didn't know how many times she had said she was sorry while her father took his anger out on her. He blamed her for his business going under, the death of his wife and the reason he was alone, broke and miserable.
"I-I'm sorry…" She whispered as she fell into the shadows of unconsciousness.
