Ever since I saw Deathly Hallows Part 1 and saw the beginning, I always associated Hermione's home life with the song She's Leaving Home by the Beatles. With some differences, of course, but if her parents found out about what she had done, I imagine John Lennon's parts would fit perfectly.
So here you go.
Disclaimer: Man, if I owned the Beatles, you better believe that John Lennon would have had a restraining order on Yoko Ono. And if I owned Harry Potter, well, I'd be the happiest teenage girl in the world.
She,
(We gave her most of our lives)
Is leaving,
(Sacrificed most of our lives),
Home,
(We gave her everything money could buy)
She is leaving home after living alone for so many years,
(Bye, bye)
The sun rose in the crisp, pale blue England sky, filling a lovely modest suburban home with warm sunlight. Birds chirped in trees outside, excited for the day ahead of them. Cars drove down the dry paved road, a destination in mind. People in houses all over the country slept comfortably, no worries in their minds for now.
Except for one.
Hermione Granger sat on her bed, shoulders tense, face twisted into that stone cold expression she had mastered after her first year in Hogwarts. Her unbearable curly chestnut hair framed her face and her brown eyes stared at the note she herself had rewritten a thousand times to perfection.
This was it. There was no backing out. There was no comfort for her. This was mandatory.
Was it, though? Was it really necessary?
A flash of her parents lying dead in their beds, a cruel cackle coming from behind a silver mask and a cape appeared in her mind and Hermione stood up suddenly, her mask slipping and tears filling her eyes.
No, this needed to happen. If they were ever killed because of her stupid Gryffindor courage, Hermione sincerely didn't know whether she'd be able to forgive her.
She looked around her light pink bedroom, staring at the endless amount of books and fluffy toys and pictures. They gave her everything, tried to make life okay for her, ignored the strange happenings, always helped their angel out.
And what did she do?
She distanced herself as soon as a letter sealed with an H arrived at their home. She acted as though they were the reason she was thought to not have as much rights as the others.
Admittedly, after that first year at Hogwarts, it just wasn't the same. They began to work harder and longer at their jobs, she began to throw herself into being better at everything Hogwarts had to offer and the house was usually empty for her.
It was really like she was living alone.
Grabbing her magical bag and packing her things in it, she shut it and slipped it onto her arm, sighing with a heavy heart. No more would she have her father kiss her forehead while leaving for work, no more would her mother talk idly about her need to have a boyfriend.
No more parents.
She grabbed her wand and walked out of her bedroom, shutting the door and hearing a small click. She slowly walked into her parent's bedrooms, making sure to keep the door from creaking.
Hermione always figured that she looked most like her mother but she could see the resemblance between her and her father.
They had the same nose and the same hair color, chestnut.
She wondered how her parents looked when she came out of the womb, the perfect mixture of them both. Her father's vaguely green eyes probably filled up with tears and her mother's exhausted face most likely had filled with love for her, their angel.
An ache started in her chest and a heavy ball seemed to lodge itself into her throat.
Lifting her wand arm and by extension wand, Hermione felt as though a raincloud had started over her head.
Throughout her entire life, they had been there, at least trying to understand and she had pushed them away but still, they were a family and she had never been able to imagine to be like Harry, without any supportive relatives at all.
Now she was going to live it and with no one to blame but herself.
"I'm sorry," She whispered, her voice cracking into the still morning air. "I love you."
They didn't hear her as they snored lightly, unaware of how much was to change in the next couple of minutes.
"Obliviate." She focused on the memories she knew they had of her and slowly, she looked around, watching as every trace of her existence faded away from the room. Pulling out two passports and a note from their "travel agent", Hermione set the documents on their nightstand and stepped back into the doorway of their bedroom.
She gazed at them one last time, tears dripping onto her cheeks before shutting the door soundlessly, walking down the wooden stairs and out of her childhood home, down the sidewalk as everyone else in the neighborhood slept peacefully.
She tried to keep the sobs in but they spilled out, shaking her body.
There she was, the most intelligent witch of her year, best friends with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, the brains of the Golden Trio, crying like some pathetic child over her parents who actually weren't her parents anymore.
"Get a grip, Hermione. You've got a world to save."
And with that, her stony expression slipped into place and the witch walked and walked, thoughts on the year to come.
She's leaving home, bye, bye.
