Hermione sat with her feet in front of her, her long legs crossed and pale against the wine-red window seat. The clear glass panes almost shook with the force of the storm that raged outside. This had been her favorite place to sit during storms when she was younger and times were happier. Instead of the warm living room she would normally see if she turned her head from the windows, there was musty furniture covered in plastic. Dust coated the wooden floor, leaving a slight trail where she had walked to get to her current place. A single mouse scuttled into the open, and Hermione just looked at it for a second before raising her wand. "Avada Kedavra," she said clearly, and the mouse gave an audible squeak before it collapsed, its tiny body lifeless. A smirk crossed her face. "Stupid thing," she remarked, speaking to no one.
"Hermione."
"Yes?"
"Hermione, you shouldn't be here. You know what happened here, it will upset you."
"Honestly, Draco, I could care less. They were never a huge part of my life, anyway. You were right back in school. Muggles are completely useless and I'm ashamed that I grew up with them."
"You know that's not true. You loved your parents."
"They aren't my parents. Parents wouldn't lie to their daughter like they lied to me. Parents wouldn't give me buck teeth and bushy hair as a glamour choice when they should have known it would make my life miserable."
"They couldn't have been the ones who put the glamour charm on you."
"Yes, but Mother said that they chose what they wanted me to look like. Bushy brown hair had been a necessity, as well as messed up teeth, because that's what ran in their family."
"Your mother lied to you, Hermione. Can't you see she wants you to hate them? So that you'll love her and your father more?"
"Draco, I don't know what to believe anymore, but I couldn't ever love my father. The ends didn't justify the means he chose. He killed pureblooded wizards, and that is unacceptable."
"What about the torture he doled out to the muggles and muggleborns of the world? What about what he did to Harry Potter, your best friend for years on end? What about the Weasley family? Don't you think it was wrong what he did to them too?" Draco looked at his wife incredulously. "There was a time, Hermione, when you would come here and cry. When you would do absolutely anything to get rid of your father and Voldemort. Where have you gone?" Hermione just looked at him silently for a few moments until he turned and left the room. "I'll see you at home," he called over his shoulder.
"Right," she replied. "Right. See you later." She sighed before flinging open the floor to ceiling window twelve stories from the ground. She sat there for a moment, feeling the anger of the storm beat against her dangling legs. "Or maybe not."