Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter
Written for the Houses Competition Year 4 Round 7
House: Ravenclaw
Year: 4
Category: Drabble
Prompt: [Prompt] Sing Happy Birthday to someone
Word Count: 729
**Fifty Years**
"Hey, Mum."
Hermione's face twisted into a grimace as she tried to smile. After a second, she gave up, her shoulders shaking as she held herself together by force of will alone.
The Grangers had never been totally alone in the world. There had been friends, colleagues, who had searched for Richard and Sarah Granger. They had never been able to find the couple.
Hermione's memory charm had worked too well. It had only been supposed to last until the end of the war, until Hermione could reunite her family once more. But she was the brightest witch of her age. Hermione built a memory charm so strong no Death Eater, not even the Dark Lord, could break it. And she used it on her parents.
After the war, Hermione was ready to bring her family together once more. But in Australia, no matter what she tried, she could not remind Richard and Sarah Granger that they were not Wendell and Monica Wilkins. Hermione realized she had protected her parents too well. No one could break her memory charm. Including herself.
Two years had passed since the war ended. Two years during which Hermione's parents lived in Australia, childless, as Wendell and Monica Wilkins.
At some point in those two years, the friends and colleagues had realized that the Grangers were never going to return. So, they had erected a gravestone in a London cemetery, with the Grangers' names.
Hermione sniffed as she gazed down at the gravestone. It was wet, as it was wont to be in London. The clouds cast a dismal pallor across the city. A cold, steady drizzle fell from the sky, splashing onto Hermione's umbrella. Eyes still fixed on the grave, she knelt down on the cold ground. She could feel the damp seeping into her jeans, but she couldn't bring herself to care.
Adjusting her black umbrella over her shoulder, she made a second attempt.
"Hey, Mum." Hermione reached out, brushing Sarah's name. "I know this is rather odd. I know…I know you can't actually hear me." Hermione huffed a laugh. It quickly distorted into a sob. "But it's your birthday. And I miss you." She dashed a hand across her face, wiping the tears away. Sighing, she sat back on her heels.
"Here," she said. She turned to the side. Making sure no one was watching, she brought out her beaded bag. She slipped a hand inside, and drew out a box. Setting it down on the base of the grave, she opened it, revealing a simple chocolate cupcake. Hermione found the candle in her pocket, and quickly stuck it in the cupcake.
"I can't light it, so it's not perfect," Hermione smiled wanly. "I thought I'd sing 'Happy Birthday' to you, though. Seeing as you're turning fifty."
Folding her hands, Hermione began to sing softly. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to…to…" She wrapped her arms around herself as she began to cry softly. Not for the first time, the magnitude of what she had done crushed her. "I'm sorry, Mum," she sniffled. "I'm sorry. It's my fault you aren't here. My fault I can't tell you happy birthday in person. My fault that you won't be there when I get married, that you won't ever meet your grandchildren…"
Hermione was sobbing now, a torrent of tears flooding down her face. She shook as she tried to hold it in, pull it back. It was too much. She missed her mother.
"Hermione – hey, Hermione…" A soothing voice reached her ears. She could feel the two men who had accompanied her standing on either side of her. On her right, Ron squatted down, a hand rubbing her back.
"Hermione, are you okay?" Harry asked, kneeling beside her and grabbing her hand.
Hermione laughed without any hilarity. "Yes," she said unconvincingly.
"Hermione," Ron sighed.
She hiccuped. "I just wanted to sing 'Happy Birthday'."
"Okay," Harry said quietly. "Okay."
Ron nodded solemnly. "Let's sing 'Happy Birthday', then. You want to start?"
Hermione nodded, drawing in a deep breath. "Okay."
She began the first verse. As she sang, she could hear her best friends' voices intertwining with hers, their melody floating up into the dreary London sky.
And even though her mother wasn't there, even though Hermione knew her mother couldn't hear her…she somehow knew that Sarah Granger would have been proud of her daughter.
a/n: Review:)