Chapter One- Repudiation

Logic seems to be the one thing in my life that actually makes sense. After all, it is, and always will be, the difference between right and wrong, common sense and disarray, peace and commotion. Perhaps that is why I like it so much, what with my concrete thinking style and straightforward assumptions.

So I guess that's why when I was confronted with the circumstance of traveling with Harry on his search for the Horcruxes, the obvious answer was yes. Harry, Ron, and Hermione. We couldn't be separated, that's just the way things were.

But now I have to do something terrible. I know they will never forgive me… but it has to be done.

With me gone, they are not safe. And that should be my first priority, my parents' safety. But how can I possibly bring myself to make my parents completely forget about me?

I have been planning this moment for two weeks. I returned to our home in Canterbury at the end of the summer, after Dumbledore's funeral. I had been sad and secluded for the first few days, but then I created my plan. And I realized that if I were going to follow through with it, this was no way for me to be acting. Why would I want what could possibly be my last few days with my parents to be filled with myself wallowing in my own guilt, fear, and depression. And so I spent the next fortnight spending every waking minute with my parents. They noticed a definite and (quite possibly) alarming change in me, I'm sure, but did not comment upon it. They understood that there was a war coming, and that I would not be returning to Hogwarts because of it, but I would tell them no more. Perhaps they wanted to be with me as much as I wanted to be with them.

But now that the time has come, I wonder if that was a smart move. It was wonderful getting to know my parents is a way I haven't been able to in years, but maybe that just made my job today harder. It brought me to see my parents as actual people, not just as parents. And it brought us into a relationship that I would trade for only one thing.

And, unfortunately, that one thing had arrived.

My search for the Horcruxes, and the destruction of Voldemort.

I wake up early this morning. I want to get going early, as well as get today over with as soon as possible. I hear Mum in the kitchen already, making breakfast and Dad's favorite morning tea. I remain in bed for a few minutes, hating myself, wondering how I am going to find it in myself to do what I know I must. Eventually, I drag myself out of bed and dress in jeans and the first blouse I find. I slip my wand in my pocket and check my beaded bag for the hundredth time, to verify that I have everything I could possibly need. Books, clothes, shoes, medicines… I take a final look around my room, marveling at how little it had changed over the past seven years. Still a bright purple mum had picked out to surprise me with during my first year at Hogwarts, the only thing that had ever changed was the number of bookshelves contained in the small room. When I first began at Hogwarts, I had had only a short bookshelf that ran from one wall to the next, but now I have two individual ones, running from floor to ceiling, wall to wall opposite each other. And every inch of the shelves is usually crammed tightly with books, books of spells, books of Arithmancy, books of medicine, even a single book about Divination. I don't like to think about that subject, though, so it is usually crammed at the back of the shelves, behind a few heavy jinx encyclopedias.

Now, however, all but one of these books have been stuffed into my beaded bag, with the hope that I will eventually get around to organizing and sorting them. All of my clothes and other necessities have been folded neatly and organized and thrown into my bag as well. As I gaze around my room for what could be the last time, I try to remember what it looked before I packed everything and left my drawers flung open and my bed unmade. All of a sudden, I am hit with the realization that I really am about to erase my parent's memories and go on a fool's journey, searching for Horcruxes without a clue, without a plan. And my vacant, derelict room suddenly feels like the only place I want to be now. I want to dive under my covers and pretend none of this is happening, that I will fall asleep and when I wake up it will be three years ago, before Voldemort came back and before any possibility of any of this happening was instigated.

But this is illogical. Time travel is impossible, even in the wizarding world. No matter what I saw that fateful night in the Department of Mysteries.

I would never forget that night. The sight of the hummingbird, trapped in that bell jar, going from egg to fully-grown bird and back again in a matter of seconds, the knowledge of even the possibility of legitimate prophecies, the pain of being cursed…. No, that night was stuck with me forever, as was the blotchy, ugly scar on my chest. I would forever be mesmerized with how those witches and wizards managed to reverse and fast forward time in just one small cylinder of space, just as though it was their own little toy, not an immense, complex, intricate thing like time. This, too, does not follow any logical reasoning I have heard of in my life.

I wish they wrote books on stuff like that, I think, and finally deciding that I was at last ready to go, step out of my room and down the stairs into the kitchen.

The instant I see my mother and father, I stop dead in my tracks. They are sitting at the kitchen counter, laughing at something between the two of them. How can I do this to them?

I gather every bit of my courage, and step into the kitchen. When my mum sees me, her eyes brighten even more and she says brightly, "Good morning, sweetie! How did you sleep?"

I manage to give her a small smile without looking in too much pain (I hope) and say, "Just fine. I have to tell you something."

My fathers eyebrows furrow worriedly, and says, "Go ahead, what is it?"

I take a deep breath to calm myself. I look at my parents, both of whom are gazing at me steadily. Hating myself, I sat, "I told you how I have to go soon. I have to go today. And I can't leave you here without me, the Death Eaters could come and hurt you, or worse. So I have to do something to protect you. Don't be mad please. I love you both so much." I have to stop talking now, because I hear my voice beginning to shake and feel my throat begin to close up.

Before my parents can say a word, or even react in any way, I whisper, "Recolomentis." Their eyes immediately glaze over, as I had known they would. But it didn't make it any easier. I begin whispering the various aspects of their new life to them, that they are now Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and their lifelong dream is to move to Australia. Wendell is a champion chessman, and Monica is making plans to open her own bakery. Dad – no, Wendell, I can't think of them as my parents anymore. That will just make this harder. Hermione Granger has no parents – just as Wendell and Monica have no daughter. Wendell and Monica met at an opera in London, and fell in love two months later. They were married two years ago, and have since been saving up money to enable their move. Thanks to Wendell's most recent Chess Tournament victory, they finally had the money to do so (In reality, they have had enough money to move into a waterfront mansion in Sydney for years, due to their skill as dentists).

I end the spell, then sprint out the front door as fast as I can before my boiling hot tears begin flowing freely. I cannot bear to remain in my childhood home and longer.

So how do you like it? Please review, it would be much appreciated.

~wootwootsugaplum