Chapter 3: Summer

By the end of the second week, it was time to go home. I attended the feast, relishing in the beauty of the Great Hall for the last time, and all too soon it was time to go home. I was anxious to see my parents again; I needed to see some faces that I knew. The train ride was fun, and I enjoyed watching the Scottish countryside fly past as the train sped south. It was over all too quickly. I was saying goodbye to Ron, Harry, Ginny, Neville, Luna, and many others who knew me but I no longer knew. Then I saw my parents. They were stood talking to a plump woman with red hair that I assumed must be Mrs Weasley. The two women seemed to be angry at each other.

"Hermione!" My mother yelled out, and she rushed to greet me.

"Mum!" I cried back, and hugged her so tightly.

"I'm so glad you're here! We just got the owl yesterday, and we were outraged that they told us that you had to stay until today and come home with the rest. Are you hurt?" I shook my head and told her no, but she spoke over me. "I can't believe the security at that school! It's terrible! If students can just fly out and to London without anyone seeing! The nerve! As for you!" She turned to Harry and Ron who were stood talking to Mrs Weasley. "How dare you drag my daughter into your mess! Look at her! She has no memory of the past five years because you had to break the rules! You are a bad influence on our daughter. Before she met you, she never broke the rules, she always obeyed no matter what and you have corrupted her! Why, only in her first year did you nearly get her killed! And then she was petrified, and against a werewolf! You have corrupted our daughter and I will have no more of it!"

"Now listen here!" Mrs Weasley spoke up. "My son has not forced your daughter into any business. Anything that happened has been done through her own free will. Harry and Ron may break the rules, but they do so with a purpose; they try to do what's right. Your daughter has a very strong sense of what is wrong and what is right, therefore when she breaks the rules it is because she is trying to do what is right. Although I understand that you are suffering due to her loss of memory, there is no one to blame here but the person who inflicted it on her: Dolohov. My son and Harry have done everything they can to save her. In their first year they knocked out a 10 foot mountain troll to save her. In their second year, they defeated a basilisk because she had been petrified and to save my daughter. I understand that you are searching for someone to blame, but Harry and Ron are not those people, and I will not let you stand there and blame them." Mum was staring at Mrs Weasley in shock, but quickly regained herself.

"Come, Hermione." She grabbed my arm and dragged me away, my father pushing my trolley behind us. "I don't want you communicating with those boys again, do you hear me? No owls, no phone calls, no meeting up, nothing, do you understand?"

"But-"

"Do you understand?" She was basically yelling at me now, and I bowed my head. "I just want what's best for you, dear, and those boys are not good for you. I have half a mind not to let you go back to that school after this."

"Oh please let me go back!" I begged her. "Please! I want to go back! I looked through the books and I remembered all of the spells! I also want to explore the castle again, it is stunning!"

"Hermione-"

"Mother, please!" I only called her mother on very few occasions, when something really meant a great deal to me, and she sighed.

"We'll see how your memory's doing. We'll discuss it in August when your letter comes." And that was the end of it. I sat in the backseat of the car in silence. No one spoke, and the two hour drive to Brighton was icy. I was glad to see the old house again, glad to see that nothing had changed here at least. My room was not how I remembered it, though. On the wall were posters of Gryffindor banners, and photos of Ron, Harry, and me. Others had Ginny, as well as many other people whose face I recognised vaguely, but for who I had no name. Dinner was spent in silence also, and I was relieved when I finally went to bed. As I lay in my single bed, looking at the ceiling, my thoughts wandered back to the castle I had left that morning. I felt bad for my parents; I realised that they were going through a lot, but I knew that the only way to get my memory back would be to go back to that castle and face everyone again. I closed my eyes and curled up on one side.

I wish that I could say that I slept soundly, but I was plagued with nightmares the whole way through. Blurred images swarmed through my head. In one my heart was pounding as I stood on what seemed to be a giant chessboard, or riding through the skies on thin air. These images chased me through the night, and when I awoke, panting and sweaty, it was daybreak. I wrapped up in a dressing gown and crept into the garden to watch the sun come up. I sat on our old swing set and tried to remember what I had dreamt, but they had gone as quickly as they had come. A solitary tear fell from my eyes. My memories were in there: it was just a matter of unlocking them again.

"Hermione?" It was my father. He stood in the doorway, a worried expression on his face. He was also in a dressing gown. "You couldn't sleep?" He sat on the swing next to mine.

"I woke up a minute ago. I dreamt of things."

"Memories?" I shrugged.

"Either that or things I made up from what Ron and Harry told me."

"You'll get your memory back." I smiled at him.

"You won't let Mum stop me from going back to school, would you?" Dad sighed.

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to go back in your state."

"But I can't go back to a muggle school! I'm behind on everything!"

"I know, Hermione, but I think this was the final straw for your mother. She's been getting letters since your first year about the things you've been getting yourself into. We're worried. Every year you've come back with something."

"Harry and Ron aren't bad." Dad gave me a pitying look.

"Your mother thinks that they're using you."

"Only for work." I grinned, and gasped.

"What?"

"I just remembered something." It was of little importance, really: the memory was just one of the three of us sat in the common room working. I had taken Ron's essay from him to help him with it.

"What is it?"

"Nothing important. I was just helping Ron with his homework."

"This is what we mean. We realise that you like hanging out with them, and we realise that you have feelings for Ron-"

"I have what?" I stared wide-eyed, and my father looked at me.

"Oh. Didn't you remember that?" I shook me head. "Well, your mother and I have thought that there was more between you two for a while. When you dated that Krum fellow in your fourth year and you told us how Ron had been very jealous, we knew that there was more there." I blushed furiously.

"He told me we were just friends."

"Well, you didn't tell him what you felt, just like he never told you. It took a lot of convincing to let you hang out at his house all of the time. Your mother thinks he's taking advantage of you."

"I'm older than they are. Besides, she taught me to be strong."

"I know, as does your mother. It's just that we worry, Hermione. We worry because we don't want to see you hurt. We just want what's right." We sat on the swings for hours in silence, watching the sky burst into flames as the sun exposed itself to the new day.