Consequences

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Minerva McGonagall looked down at the distraught girl sitting next to her.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Granger." The girl looked up.

"Sorry? Sorry!" she said, before standing up and kicking the cabinet next to the chair.

"You don't-"

"How can you be sorry? My parents are DEAD!" she screamed. The professor shuddered. Hermione Granger had always been a good student, the best in her year and arguably the best young witch of her age. Now that her parents had died, she had turned into a monster. Grief. She'll get over it soon enough. I think. Hermione sat down, sobbing gently.

"There, there." Said McGonagall, wondering what to do. She had only been headteacher of Hogwarts for a few months, and had little experience in the top job. She'd never imagined that Albus Dumbledore would… no, she couldn't think about it. Not while a student was in tears beside her.

"What will I do? Where will I stay? I have no money, I-"

"We will arrange for you to go and stay with Mr Weasley. As for money, I'm afraid I cannot do much." Hermione burst into tears once more, her face disappearing under a head of long, brown hair. Professor McGonagall saw, for the first time in years, not the strong, intelligent girl she had so often taught and been proud to have in her house, Gryffindor, but the scared, intimidated first year that Hermione had never let anyone see inside.

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Hermione sat in her room at the Weasley's house, packing her trunk. Someone knocked the door. "Hermione?" came the voice from the other side.

"Go away, Harry."

"Hermione, let me in. Now."

"Piss off."

"UNLOCK THE DAMN DOOR!" Harry screamed, and kicked the door fiercely. Hermione did as she was told.

"What?"

"Hermione, you can't keep on doing this. Staying in your room. It's not healthy."

"I'm packing."

"Come out with us."

"I can't."

"You can."

"No. Anyway, weren't you meant to be off finding Horcruxes or something, hero?" Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth. She knew she had said something wrong. Harry simply turned and walked away, before saying as he walked downstairs, "Breakfast's ready."

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Gill