CHAPTER 1

The house was dark with overgrown weeds littering the front. Confusion and worry swept through Clint Barton's mind as he sat in his car outside the home. No matter how hard he tried to think, he could not ever remember his sister or brother-in-law mention that they were going on an extended vacation. Although they didn't have as much contact as they might have before due to the nature of his career choice, their close childhood meant that they kept in touch and were at the very least sure to discuss any major events in their lives. He attended their wedding and they attended his, and they were present at the birth of each couples children.

This is what caused Clint so much worry. He had not heard from his family, and his attempts for contact had yielded no results. It was then that he flew to his sister's home only to find the warm and loving home vacant and dark with nothing to show that any family had lived there. Cautiously he carefully observed the quiet neighborhood before exiting the car. He quickly approached the home and snuck inside through a side window.

Furniture still occupied the home, though a sheet had been thrown over them to protect them from the thin layer of dust that had already settled. Quietly, Clint went down the hall to where the master bedroom was. Inside showed that though the furniture also remained, there were no clothes or personal affects within the room. A slight panic gripped his heart. Exiting the room he swiftly ran upstairs to check his niece's bedroom.

There he found her room to be completely different. It did not look like a room that his niece would have ever lived in. Gone were the overstuffed bookshelves and the soft pink walls that he had helped paint with his brother-in-law when they found out the baby was a girl. Instead the room looked like an office. A layer of dust also covered the furniture in this room too.

After checking the rest of the home, he discovered that any personal affects had been removed., including all pictures and anything that might have had any great significance to the family were gone. And yet, despite the home looking as though no one had lived there in some time, nor that anyone would be living there anytime soon, it was not for sale.

Clint left the home, more confused and worried than when he first went in. Upon returning to his car he made a few phone calls the friends of the family for any clues as to what had happened or where they might have gone. Their response only baffled him more. None of them knew where they might have gone, and only that their daughter, had told them that they had a family emergency and would be going out of town to attend to. Returning to his hotel for the night, Clint used his SHIELD contacts and resources to see if he could determine what was going on. Hours later, surveillance footage showed his sister and brother-in-law happily boarding a plane. At first, that eased his worries. Surely if something were wrong they would not have looked so calm and excited if they were under duress. However upon review of their documents that were provided when they checked in for their flight, they were travelling under a different name. They traveled under the names Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and they were destined for Australia.

Hermione Granger was exhausted. Nursing a cup of tea in the quiet kitchen of the Burrow, she longed for sleep. The Battle of Hogwarts had been over a month ago. Since then, there had been countless funerals to attend, speeches of grief and victory to give, and many trials to attest and bear witness to.

And yet there was still more to do, and no time to waste or rest. Every night Hermione would climb into bed, thankful for a moment to finally breathe. Exhausted she would fall asleep quickly, but it was then the tremors would start. It always seemed to start with her hands. The slight tremors would quickly progress with more intensity until it would wake her from her slumber. The length of time from when the pain would then set in always varied. On this particular night it came quickly.

Taking deep breaths, she tried to calm the rising panic that had quickly begun to consume her. Her body twisted and contorted on itself as her muscles contracted. With the pain came the memories. Her hands gripped the sheets of her bed tightly as if to try to hold onto what little sanity was left. The pain crashed through her again, dragging her back to the manor. Bellatrix's frantic questions were just barely audible through the sound of her own screams. Hermione cried out in pain, she cried out in anger and fear. She begged for mercy, she begged for relief.

It was a soft meow that answered her prayers. Crookshanks was half-kneazle, which meant he was more in tune with his masters than most familiars were. Keeping his distance he continued to meow in order to break through the panic attack Hermione was experiencing. The bedroom slowly came back into focus as the walls of Malfoy Manor faded and the fear eased its grip on her heart. She grit her teeth as another wave of pain swept through her causing her back to arch up off the bed. Her mind, thankfully, remained intact this time. Her body, however, was forced to continue to endure the after-effects of torture.

When the pain had finally subsided enough and Hermione regained control of her body, she carefully left Percy's room and headed to the kitchen where she now sat, drinking her cup of tea. Around her, the house was silent. She hoped the other occupants of the home were able to rest through the night, but she knew they had cast silencing charms on their own rooms just as she had. Finishing off her tea, Hermione grabbed a blanket as she made her way outside.

She lay down on top of the blanket in the garden. Looking up at the night sky she was reminded of her parents. Sadness filled her heart as she remembered the last time she saw them. Just over a year ago she had told them of the events that were about to take place. They were worried and scared for their only daughter, and begged her to stay with them and leave the wizarding world behind. But as much as she cherished the comfort they provided she knew what was coming. She was the brightest witch of her age and a filthy mudblood. She was also Harry Potter's best friend. Death Eaters would come for her and her family regardless if she left or stayed.

Her parents didn't understand, they thought they could protect her. Hermione knew that despite her mother's uncanny ability for self-defense and her father's own previous military experience, this was a war they couldn't fight and hope to win. So Hermione did what she believed she had to do in order to both protect her parents and still aide Harry in the upcoming war. She looked her parents straight in the eye and told them she would stay with them.

Over the next two weeks, Hermione began her preparations. On the final night before she was scheduled to meet with the Weasleys, she lay down on a blanket between her parents as they looked up at the night sky in their own garden. She told them she loved them, and they told her they loved her too. That night as Helen and Troy Granger slept, Hermione removed herself from their lives. Gone was her bedroom, instead an office now took its place. Family photos were duplicated. The originals were carefully stowed with the rest of her belongings in her trunk. The duplicates were altered to show only a loving husband and wife.

As the sun began to rise, Hermione quietly made her way into her parents' room. As they slept peacefully, she pressed a soft kiss to each and told them again how much she loved them. Taking a step back, she prayed for both their safety and forgiveness. Then, with a determined yet broken heart, she raised her wand and whispered, "Obliviate."