Hermione got ready for bed just like she had every night that summer: checked the locks, cast an Imperturbable charm in addition to a spell that would sound a siren if anyone broke through those. The Order had cast a spell around the house that should keep Dark Wizards out, but they could Imperius someone else that could get through so Hermione wasn't taking any chances.

Her parents were already asleep, but Hermione wasn't tired at all. She looked around the kitchen and noticed the dirty pile of dishes in the sink, so she set to cleaning them the Muggle way because she needed to keep her hands busy. She thought back to her chat with Ron on the train to King's Cross after Dumbledore's funeral. They had been patrolling the train one last time as prefects.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Ron said as they walked away from the two second year Hufflepuffs who had gotten into a fight in the middle of the passageway.

"About what?" Hermione asked distractedly, her eyes and ears open for the slightest sign of trouble. Most students were incredibly subdued during this ride. Hermione had overheard some seventh years discussing becoming Aurors or Healers, though most students were wondering whether or not their families would have to go into hiding or if they would come back to Hogwarts the next year.

"About Lavender and that whole mess," he explained. Hermione stopped and turned around to face him.

"Okay," she said, her heart speeding up. Maybe this was it. Maybe he was finally going to say it.

Ron rubbed the back of his neck and avoided eye contact, "I was a prat. You asked me to Slughorn's party...at least I think you did?" He looked at her. She nodded. "Anyway, I'm sorry for messing everything up for half the year. Can you forgive me?"

He sounded so pitiful and sincere. The truth was she had forgiven him as soon as she heard he was in the hospital wing on his birthday, but hearing his apology was something she didn't realize she needed. "Of course I do, Ron." He sighed with relief and they continued on their way.

They walked along in a silence for a few minutes until Ron asked, "So, what are you going to tell your parents? About school? And...well, everything?"

"I don't know yet. I need to work out a plan to keep them safe, I know that much." She came to a stop outside the car where Harry, Ginny, Neville, and Luna sat and looked up at him. "How are you going to tell your mum?"

"I was thinking of telling her that I've decided to become a Death Eater. That way when I tell her what I'm actually doing, she won't be as mad," Ron said. She laughed, "Please wait until I get to the Burrow because that is definitely something I want to see."

Now here she was. There was less than a week before she was to go to the Burrow; she knew the memory charm by heart and knew she could do it without a hitch. Every day there were reports of attacks on the Muggle news that strengthened her resolve that she was doing the right thing. But, she was only seventeen years old. She was terrified. She sometimes thought that her skills wouldn't be much use in a war.

Suddenly she heard a crash out on the pavement. She dropped the sponge into the soapy water and grabbed her wand from her back pocket. Heart pounding, she ran to the front of the house and peaked out between the drapes. Now that she was closer, she could hear muttered cursing. Then she saw a flash of red hair in the moonlight. She wanted to put down her guard and rush outside, but she had to be careful. Her parents' lives depended on it. Even when she saw the familiar long nose, bright blue eyes, and Chudley Cannons shirt through the peephole, she willed herself to keep the door shut. He knocked and whispered, "Hermione?"

Her heart had calmed down, but she found that her wand hand was shaking. What if it was a Death Eater who had taken Polyjuice Potion to look like Ron? What if they had killed Ron just to get his hair? What if they had taken him hostage? It took everything she had in her not to scream.

"Who are you?" She finally said quietly, not wanted to wake her parents unless it was absolutely necessary.

"It's me. Ron," he said.

"Okay, then what did you tell me first year when I couldn't think of what to do when you and Harry got caught in the Devil's Snare?" They had taken ages to come up with security questions. Hermione had insisted on coming up with three because she wasn't taking any chances that a Death Eater could somehow find out the answer to one of them.

"I asked you if you were a witch or not because you couldn't think of how to create fire," he replied. "Now it's my turn, right?" he asked.

"Yeah," Hermione said, even though she wanted to let him inside right then.

His forehead was wrinkled with thought, "Oh!" His face relaxed and he asked confidently, "What year did I make Malfoy cough up slugs?"

"You didn't. You tried in second year, but your wand backfired because the Whomping Willow had broken it and you ended up coughing up slugs all afternoon and night."

"Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"Do we really have to do the rest?" he asked.

"Yes! It's of utmost importance, Ron!"

"I just don't see the point. It's not like anyone other than Harry would remember the Devil's Snare thing."

"That's not the point, Ron! You can't think that way. Please, just let me ask the next question and before you know it we'll be done and you can come in."

"Alright, but it's your fault if my mom murders me when I get back for going off and making her think I got murdered."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "You realize if you'd just stop complaining, we'd be done by now?"

"Then ask the bloody question! Merlin!" He threw up his hands. Hermione was half-tempted to let him in now because she thought no Death Eater could bicker with her like Ron. She was stuck with the plan since she'd been so adamant about it, though, so she continued. "Are you finished?" She didn't wait for a reply. "What did you say to me in the common room the morning after the Yule Ball, when no one else was around?"

"I said I was sorry for yelling at you, but you were still angry so for a while after that, we were overly polite to each other. It was weird. My turn now! What did you tell me in the hospital wing in fifth year after the Ministry the first morning we were both actually awake?"

"I asked you what you were thinking. The last question is, what was your answer?"

"I said something about how I had had enough of thinking for the week due to the several brains that had attached themselves to me. What did you ask Madame Pomfrey?"

She laughed, "I asked if you were going to be some sort of super genius now." He laughed and said, "Well, c'mon! Open up! It's me! Told you."

She removed the spells around the doors, unlocked the deadbolt, and opened the door. She stood to the side to let him pass, then redid everything.

"Bloody hell! That took ages, Hermione. We need to come up with something better for when we don't have time like that!"

"No, we'll just have to never be separated," she stated firmly. She looked up at him to find him gazing at her tenderly. He asked softly, "How are you, Hermione?"

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not," he said. She ignored him and asked, "What are you doing here? Why are you risking your mother's wrath? It's really dangerous out there, Ron!"

"I know, but I had to see you." His words made her blush. "Why?" She led him to the kitchen. She put the kettle on and got out two teacups and the sugar.

"Well, the plan to get Harry has changed. Mad Eye reckons they've been found out, so he's come up with a plan that involves both of us, along with Bill, Fleur, Tonks, the twins, Hagrid, Lupin, and a few others. We're going to get Harry the night after tomorrow. Tonks was going to come and tell you tomorrow herself, but I knew you'd want to be prepared as soon as you woke up. Lupin and Tonks got married, by the way."

"Thanks, Ron." She set the tea on the table and Ron reached for the sugar. "I already put three sugars in." She smiled as he took a sip and grinned over the rim; they were both pleased that she knew how he took his tea. Hermione's smile turned into a frown, "This means I have to leave the day after tomorrow! I'm not ready!"

"It might actually be better if you leave some time tomorrow night because Mad Eye wants to go through the plan with all of us first."

She had planned on spending as much time with her parents as possible and was going to arrive at The Burrow the night before Harry's birthday, but that seemed impossible now. She couldn't leave to get Harry for a whole night, doing who knows what, and then return. They would be vulnerable the entire time as everyone she trusted to look after them would be retrieving Harry too. "Why are so many people needed?"

He explained Mundungus's plan to her, which was rather brilliant, though she was not looking forward to drinking Polyjuice Potion again. "Mundungus? It was his idea? You're joking."

Ron laughed, "That's what I said to Kingsley."

Something still didn't make sense to her, "So, why did you have to come here to tell me this? Couldn't you have just made a Floo call?"

"Mad Eye says that the Ministry has been infiltrated and they're monitoring all owl post and the Floo network. It's the main reason he can't just use side-along Apparition with Harry because they'd detect it since it's a Muggle house and he's not of age yet."

"Oh. Well, thanks for telling me, Ron. I still don't understand why a member of the Order couldn't tell me, but I'm glad to see you."

As they looked at each other across the table, Hermione began to blush. She suddenly realized that they were more alone than they had ever been in the entire time they had known each other, even with her parents upstairs. She could faintly make out the stubble that speckled his chin and jawline. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him there. She shook her head and looked into his eyes which were looking down at...

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed as she crossed her arms over her chest. "My eyes are up here," Hermione said, echoing something she had heard her cousin say to a bloke in a shop once. Ron's face, neck, and ears flushed a deep red. He looked away quickly. "Sorry, Hermione," he said. The grandfather clock in the parlor struck the hour. "Ron! It's midnight! You should really get back home. If your mum realizes you're gone..." "She'll have heart failure," he finished for her. "You're right, I should go."

They stood and Hermione walked him to the door. When she turned around to face him, he was much closer than she anticipated. A thrill ran through her and every nerve was alert. Her heart was beating so loudly, she was sure he could hear it. "Well, goodnight, Ron," and summoning all the Gryffindor courage she could muster, Hermione leaned in and kissed his cheek. He grabbed her hand and pulled her close when she started to move back. They leaned forward, their lips almost touching. Before they met, however, Hermione heard the door to her parents' bedroom open and the tell-tale sound of her father's footsteps.

Hermione's eyes popped open, Ron following suit soon after. "Hermione?" He sounded disappointed.

She shushed him. "My dad's awake! You need to go!"

"Bloody hell!"

They hastily said goodbye. Hermione was slipping back to the kitchen when her father padded down the stairs. His hair stuck out in all directions. "Were you talking to someone, sweetheart?"

"No. I had the radio on, but I'm coming to bed now. I was just double checking the door."

"Okay. Goodnight," he said sleepily and headed back to bed.

"Goodnight," Hermione whispered. That may have been the last time she ever said goodnight to her father. The thought tore at her heart. She turned the lights off with a wave of her wand, triple checked the wards, and headed upstairs to sleep in her childhood bedroom for perhaps the last time.

Hermione rose early the next morning. She showered and brushed her teeth before reading over the instructions for the Memory Charm a few dozen more times before heading downstairs to the kitchen. Her mother was dressed for work and making coffee. "Where's Dad?"

"Morning, Hermione!" Sylvia Granger said before she bit into a triangle of toast. She gestured to her daughter that there was plenty for her. Hermione put two pieces on a plate, but didn't even pretend to eat them. "Mum? Can you and dad stay home from work today? Actually, I need you to. It's...it's really important." Her voice trembled.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" Her mother placed a hand on Hermione's forehead. "You're not sick, are you?" Hermione shook her head. Her dad entered the room and rushed to the coffee pot.

"Andrew, Hermione wants us to stay home today."

"Whatever for?"

Hermione hesitated. She had wanted to take her time, getting her parents used to the idea. She didn't want to wipe and replace their memories without permission. She'd do it anyway if she had to, but she'd rather they weren't furious with her when she, hopefully, retrieved them after it was all over. "Hermione?" Mr. Granger said.

"I don't know where to begin. You both might want to sit down, though." She paused briefly. "I'm not going back to Hogwarts this year." Her parents spoke at once asking why and if she was going to stay home. "I have to do something. You know how I told you earlier in the summer about the war? And explained the wards around the house to you?" They both nodded, still looking confused. "Well, I have to go do something with Harry and Ron so we can win that war."

"No! Absolutely not! You are only seventeen! You are not going to go off to some war!" Her dad was standing now, his face turning a shade of crimson.

"Walter, dear, sit down."

"I have to! You remember what this war is about, don't you? You-Know-Who hates Muggles. He hates Muggle-borns! I'm a target already, so I may as well prove why the Sorting Hat put me in Gryffindor and help my best friends defeat him! I'm not going to be able to do that from Hogwarts and I'm certainly not going to be able to do it from here!"

Silence fell over the kitchen. Her father was sitting and her mother was gripping his hand in order to keep him from yelling again and perhaps to soothe herself. Finally, Mr. Granger spoke, "I'm going to call Margaret and have her cancel all our appointments for today. I'll tell her it's a family emergency."

Hermione nervously picked her toast apart as she and her mum waited for her dad to return to the table. Her mum looked like she was going to say something at one point, leaning towards Hermione, but then she leaned back and just looked at Hermione with concern. Her dad returned to the table, folded his hands together on the table. "How long will you be gone?"

"Months. Years. I don't know how long it's going to take. None of us do."

"Years?" Her mum's voice was quiet. "When are you leaving?"

"Tonight. Before you yell at me, just listen. Please." She paused to make sure they weren't going to have an outburst. "Dad, you remember how you thought I was talking to someone last night? Well, I was. Ron came over last night to tell me one of our plans had been changed and that I'm needed tomorrow. I had planned to tell you in a less upsetting way."

Mr. Granger said, "I doubt the news of our daughter going to war could be made less upsetting by any amount of time."

"Why aren't the adults doing the fighting? I don't understand why a group of teenagers have the weight of war on their shoulders."

"But they are fighting, Mum. The thing is...Harry, Ron, and I are the only ones who know what to do to really finish You-Know-Who. Dumbledore told him to only tell us and we both promised not to tell anyone."

"So, we can't even know what you'll be doing while you risk your life? How are we going to be able to go on with our lives knowing you're in danger every day and there's nothing we can do about it?"

"That's where your part comes in, Dad. I need both of you to agree to something. Something that will allow me to fight with a clear head, without worrying about you two. I want your permission to alter your memories so you think that your life's desire is to move to Australia. You will also not know that I even exist."

"Impossible! Hermione, your father and I could never forget you!"

"Yes, you could! And you will! You must!" It was all going wrong. Hermione fought back tears. This was not how she wanted this conversation to go. She didn't want to spend the last moments with her parents in a screaming match. "I'm going up to my room to clear my room. I'm going to do this with or without your permission, but I'd prefer if we could just stop fighting. Please, think about it. With you two safely in Australia, where no Death Eaters can get you in order to get to me and ultimately to Harry, everything we have to do will go more smoothly. I'll think more clearly, which means I'll survive longer. I have to do this. I can't sit back and watch the world I love be destroyed."

With tears spilling from her eyes, Hermione strode from the kitchen in three long steps.

In her bedroom, Hermione took a moment to collect herself before packing. She was bringing a great number of books and she had no clue how she was going to carry them all with them on their travels. She imagined herself attempting to carry them all in a knapsack. Even with a spell to make them light as a feather, their mass would still be cumbersome, even if she shrunk them.

She flipped open one of the dark arts books about Horcruxes that she had summoned from Dumbledore's office. Sometimes she wondered how she had gotten into a situation where not only was she going after the darkest wizard in the world, but she was leaving school and she had stolen books from a headmaster. A dead headmaster!

She glanced over at her bedside table where a picture of herself, Ron, and Harry sat. She picked it up and watched as Harry rubbed his nose where his eyeglasses had bothered him and as Hermione herself blew air up from her mouth in an attempt to get her hair out of her face while still keeping her arms around her friends. Then, there was Ron. Hermione had studied the picture countless times. Ron reached out as though to tuck her hair back for her, but then he would blush and move his hand back into his pocket. It had been taken at the Burrow, the summer before sixth year. She set the picture down and picked up one of her parents. Slipping it out of its frame, she tucked it into a purse her mom had bought her for Christmas the previous year.

She grabbed the stolen books and packed them into her trunk and sighed.

Someone knocked on her door and then pushed it open. It was her dad. "You can't do this to us. We won't let you."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't cut it!"

"I know! Do you think this is easy for me? I want nothing more than to just stay here with you two and then go back to school! But that's not possible." Her mom entered her room then; she had been crying. "Just...just explain it to us again, Hermione," she said.

"I'll do a spell that will make you forget your names and about me. I'll add a memory of always wanting to move to Australia so you will leave and be far away from danger."

"Why can't we just go to Australia on our own?" her mum asked, prompting a dissatisfied grunt from her dad.

"I thought of that, but I don't know how long this will take and how far the war will spread. If you're found, it's best that you have no idea who I am or who Harry and Ron are and for there to be no way for anyone to find out by magically searching your memories."

Her parents looked at Hermione with apprehension. They knew how powerful a witch Hermione was from the letters Professor McGonagall had sent them over the years.

"Hermione," her mother said, "this is not some logic problem or potion to work out. You're not going to be able to look up a spell whenever danger comes near. You're going to have to react like a warrior. This isn't an advanced class for school; the consequences will be very real."

Hermione responded angrily, "I know real consequences. Cedric Diggory is dead. Sirius Black is dead. Dumbledore, the greatest wizard to ever live, is dead. I know exactly what I'm getting into." Her parents grow paler with every "dead" she utters. She hesitates before stating the next bit because she had never fully told them of everything she and her two best friends got into at school. "I've been facing danger since I was 12 years old."

"What do you mean?" her father asked.

"All you need to know is that this is nothing new to me." She didn't want to go through the exhaustive list of everything she had done since first year with Harry and Ron.

"That doesn't mean you have to go running into danger, Hermione!" her mother said. "You're our baby girl, our only child. You can't do this to us. If we must go into hiding, so be it, but come with us!"

Hermione sighed. "I'm of age now. You can't tell me what to do. I've made up my mind. I'm going with my friends to defeat You-Know-Who and there's nothing you can do to stop me, so please just try to understand so when I come back for you I won't be afraid you'll hate me forever."

"Hermione, we could never hate you," her dad said softly as her mum embraced her. "It's because we love you so much that we don't want you to do this. We don't want to lose you."

"If I alter your memories and something happens to me, you won't even know you lost anything."

"Somehow that's worse," her mom whispered before releasing Hermione from the hug.

Her dad took her mum's hand and said resignedly, "Well, if you are going to wipe our memories of you, can we have one more day of family time? We could play a board game or go to the park."

Hermione nodded. "That would be lovely, though I'd rather just stay here." She knew if they went out, she'd just be on high alert. At least when they go to work, she knows they're safe because she put wards up there as well, though those only detected witches and wizards so as not to go off every time they had a patient.

They spend the rest of the morning awkwardly trying to make small talk while they play Clue, but by the time evening comes around, the house is filled with laughter. Hermione does a little magic show to her parents' utter delight. She had never shown off to them before and they had always been too respectful to ask. Rather than pulling a rabbit out of a hat, she turns a hat into a rabbit and back again. She changes her parents' appearance so they look their favorite celebrities for half an hour and does her best imitation of Trelawney by reading their future. She avoids predictions of imminent death.

"Can you summon a grand feast?" her mother asks.

Hermione shakes her head, "Food is one of the five exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration." She restrains herself from listing the other four.

After a dinner cooked by her dad, they watch Hermione's favorite childhood film, Homeward Bound, which was a dumb decision on her part because she cries anytime she watches it under normal circumstances. Now she clutches Crookshanks in her lap and leans her mother's shoulder and sobs for a solid thirty minutes. She can tell her parents are crying as well. Finally, she breaks the emotional silence by saying, "I think I will wait until you two are asleep."

Her mum said, "I'm not sure I can sleep," but her yawn betrays her. Or rather it betrays the slow acting Sleeping Draught Hermione put in their evening tea before the movie. Hermione helps them to bed and waits for them to fall asleep. It's not long before their even breathing lulls Hermione into a peaceful trance. She wipes away her tears after awhile and concentrates on the Memory Charm she had been studying for over a month. She made sure that her parents remembered their wedding and their love for gardening. The only things she omitted was herself and their real names. The Grangers were gone and in their place were Wendell and Monica Wilkins who had no children and an overwhelming desire to move to Australia.

Hermione silently exits the room and her old life.