A/N: Hello again! Sorry for the wait, this chapter was difficult to write and it's a little longer than the previous ones. I also realized that I forgot to mention: this story is post OotP and is AU from there. Hope you like it, and please review!

Disclaimer: JKR owns everything. I own nothing.


Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.

Khalil Gibran


Chapter Four – Why?

"Hermione! Tea's ready!"

"Coming, Mrs. Weasley!" Hermione marked her spot in the book she was reading and got up from the desk, raising her arms above her head as she gave a very cat-like stretch. Her back was sore from bending over the books, and her mind was tired from processing so much information. It had been ten days since Harry and Ron had left with Professor Dumbledore, and she hadn't made any progress on Inevitabilis Obitus. Creating potions from scratch was much more difficult than she had ever imagined. Plus, between helping Professor Snape brew all matter of potions for the Order and doing some occasional research for the boys, Hermione found that she rarely had time to really focus on her personal work. After giving her research one last wistful glance, she walked from her room and down the stairs, meeting Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen.

"Hello, dear. Sit – I've got news." Mrs. Weasley said, holding up a letter.

Hermione obliged and poured herself a cup of tea. "Excellent! Is it from Ron and Harry? Do they need information? I haven't found any more clues for them yet, but I'm still looking."

Mrs. Weasley frowned and sat down opposite Hermione.

"I'm afraid not, dear. It's from the Headmaster. I'm sure you're aware that the Order has a spy that we've kept within You-Know-Who's ranks, and they've informed us that there has recently been talk about attacking the parents of muggleborn students." Mrs. Weasley grimaced and poured herself another cup of tea. "It's absolutely horrid. The good news is, there has been no talk about anyone harming your parents specifically, but it's only a matter of time, dear. Professor Dumbledore has asked Professor Snape to escort you to your family home in an hour; you are to collect your parents and bring them back here, we will find a safe place for them to go into hiding from there. I know this is quite a lot to take in at once, but do you understand? Time is of the essence."

Hermione stared blankly into her cup of tea, her thoughts a jumbled mess. She had always know that her involvement with Harry would someday put her in danger, but she had always assumed that her parents were safe in their own world, away from magic and Lord Voldemort. And who on earth was their spy? She had, of course, worked out that there was one; how else would the Order always be one step ahead of the Death Eaters? She was suddenly very thankful that this person existed – her parents were her only living family and she couldn't bear to see anything happen to them.

"I understand," she heard herself say. "Is there any chance Professor Snape and I can go now?"

"No, I'm afraid. He's seeing to some business in Diagon Alley, but I'm sure he'll be ready to go as soon as he returns. I'm sure your parents are fine, Hermione. This is all just a precaution."

With a smile and a motherly squeeze of Hermione's shoulder, Mrs. Weasley got up and returned to kneading the bread she had been making.

"Hermione, dear, where is Crookshanks? I haven't seen the thing at all – did you bring him here for the summer?"

Hermione smiled at Mrs. Weasley's attempt to change the subject.

"No, I didn't think he'd be very welcome here, not with all the people that come through every day. The Magical Menagerie has a boarding house for student's pets, so he's residing there for the summer. He has his own little room and gets fed plenty, so he's quite happy. Truth be told, he'd probably hate it here. He's a very selective thing, not a fan of large crowds."

Her heart clenched with longing for her familiar – she knew that he was completely safe in Diagon Alley, but in times like this, she wished that he was here for her to cuddle.

"I'm sorry, love. I know it must be hard without him, but you'll be with your parents soon and I think you'll find that will make you feel much better!"

Hermione smiled and nodded, pushing herself up from the table.

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley, you're right. Excuse me, I'm going to go change into something a little more presentable for my parents. I haven't seen them since Christmas, and I doubt they'd approve of me showing up in grubby jeans and my robes."

Mrs. Weasley beamed at her and pushed a biscuit into her hand.

"Of course, dear, of course. You go do what you need, I'll send Severus up when he returns."

As Hermione made her way back up to her room, she shrugged off the heavy robes she was wearing. It was rather cold in Headquarters, and her usual outfit of blue jeans and a jumper weren't keeping her warm enough. She studied herself in the mirror, analyzing her image. Her hair, while still a bit bushy, had tamed over the years. She had let it grow longer, and the weight of it drew the frizzy locks into looser curls. Her face was pretty enough, but rather plain without any makeup applied to it. Her body, which had always been frustratingly thin as a child, had finally matured into a woman's body, complete with curves and even a few battle scars. Her hand floated up to her breastbone, where Dolohov's curse laid beneath the jumper. Whatever she chose to wear, she must make sure that it covered the horrendous scar. If her parents were to see it, their reaction would make this entire ordeal far more difficult. She shook her head and turned to her wardrobe, pulling clothes aside methodically. What did one wear to tell one's parents that they are in grave danger? Hermione didn't know, but she decided that black trousers and a grey blouse were appropriate. She slid them on quickly and sat down at her vanity, looking at the makeup that she owned but rarely used. A swipe of mascara here, a touch of blush there, and she pronounced herself finished. She never was one for much make up – it made her face feel heavy and was rather uncomfortable. After sliding her boots on and running a comb through her hair, she reached for the black pea coat her mother had given her for Christmas and wandered down the stairs. Surprise filled her as she nearly ran into a very tall, dark figure.

"Miss Granger," Professor Snape drawled, "You seem to be ready early. I told Molly that I wouldn't arrive for another half hour."

Hermione gulped and forced herself to meet his gaze, refusing to be intimidated. "I wanted to be ready to go as soon as possible, in case you returned early. Thank you for escorting me, sir. Will you be ready to leave soon?"

"We can leave now. The sooner we're back, the better. I assume you are familiar with Side-Along Apparition? I do not know where your parents reside."

"Yes, sir. If you would," her voice faltered and grew small, "take my arm, sir?"

Snape let out a sigh and rested the tips of his fingers on Hermione's proffered forearm, seemingly creating as little contact as possible. Hermione closed her eyes, concentrated on an alley near her home, and turned on the spot.

Once her head had stopped spinning, Hermione gingerly opened her eyes and prayed that she gotten it right. Relief flooded her as she saw the familiar brick alley – they were only a block away from her house.

"You live in an alley, Miss Granger? My, my, I did not know you were from such… humble means."

Hermione returned Snape's sneer with a sneer of her own.

"Actually, Professor, I thought it might not be appropriate to appear out of thin air on my doorstep – my home is only a block away. Shall we?"

"Lead the way," he grumbled.

Walking down her childhood street proved to be an extremely sentimental experience for Hermione. She was surprised at how much it affected her, how much she had missed this quiet neighborhood. Memories of riding her bike down this lane and walking home from primary school filled her head, and she became more and more excited to see her parents. While her heart truly belonged in the magical world, a part of her would always be muggle. She quickened her pace as her home came into view. The car was parked in the driveway and she could tell that the lights were on behind the curtains.

"Excellent," she said as they turned onto the small path that led to her front door. "They're home." She rapped briskly on the door and waited for a moment, but there was no answer. Snape raised an eyebrow at her, but she just smiled and shook her head as she fished for a keychain from her coat pocket.

"They're in the library upstairs. They never hear people at the door when they're up there, I've been bothering them to get a doorbell for years. Would you mind if I went in first, Professor? I think this might go over easier if I can break it to them slowly, without a stranger in the room."

Snape nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, that is agreeable. Come and get me if your parents need a more detailed explanation of the situation, or perhaps a confundus charm."

Hermione chuckled at that and let herself into her old home, closing the door gently behind her.

"Mum? Dad? It's me!"

She stood by the staircase and looked up, expecting to see her parents rush at the sound of her voice, but there was nothing. Her brow furrowed slightly as she walked slowly up the stairs.

"Mum, Dad? Are you home?"

Again, there was no answer. Hermione chuckled to herself as she reached the door to the library and pushed it open.

"Did you guys go next door to Mrs. Hendersen's for coffee? You always leave the lights on when you do, you know. It's such a waste of electrici-"

Hermione froze in place as an icy wave of shock washed over her. The room, which her parents always kept immaculate, was completely torn apart. Books littered the floor, their pages ripped from their spines, and were drenched in puddles of a dark red liquid. She felt her feet move her body forward, but it was as if she was watching herself on a TV screen, for she was no longer inside her own body. In the corner of the room was a very large lump covered with a blanket, and even though every fiber of Hermione's being was screaming at her to turn around and run, run far away, she walked closer and closer until she grabbed the blanket and pulled it away.

A scream left her lungs with such force that she thought her throat would begin to bleed, and Hermione dropped to her knees in anguish. Two bodies, the bodies of her parents, the amazing people that had raised her and loved her and cared for her at every step of her life, were holding each other in what looked to be a last embrace. Their corpses were mangled, with legs bending the wrong way and blood, so much blood, more blood than Hermione had ever seen. She threw herself on her parents, searching for a scrap of warmth to show her that there was a chance, that maybe they were still alive, but they were as cold as ice. So, not knowing what else to do, she did the only thing she could. She took her parent's hands in her own and sobbed, sobbed harder than she ever had before. Vaguely, she heard footsteps come up behind her, but she didn't turn around. Whether they were Death Eaters of Professor Snape, she didn't care. They could kill her now – everything she was fighting to protect was gone.

"Miss Granger? I heard a scream, are you alright? Oh…oh, Merlin. Shit."

Professor Snape crossed the room quickly and wrapped his hand around Hermione's upper arm, pulling her roughly to her feet. She made a halfhearted attempt to reach for her parents, but he spun her around and pulled her away from the sight.

"Hush, girl. This could be a trap – we need to leave immediately."

With one last glance at the poor mutilated muggles, Professor Snape pulled Hermione into his arms and turned, focusing on the potions lab at Grimmauld Place. As soon as he opened his eyes, he pushed Hermione onto a stool and walked over to the shelf where he kept his personal stores. A calming draught, some Dreamless Sleep, and a general sleeping daught. The girl needed rest, and soon. Already, he could see her eyes glazing over and her skin growing pale, the early signs of shock settling in. He approached her and shoved each potion into her hand one at a time, and she gulped them back without any argument. Snape couldn't help but admire her determination – even in a state of shock, she realized what needed to be done and followed through. After she had swallowed all three potions, she turned her wide eyes to the Professor, the tears streaming down her cheeks in steady rivers.

"Why?" She choked. "Why? Why? Why?" She threw herself against Professor Snape and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing the air from his lungs. He could feel her tears soaking through his travelling cloak and had a right mind to push her away, but decided against it. Instead, he did something that he had not done for twenty years. He wrapped his arms around the young woman and rocked her gently in his arms, whispering words of comfort into her curls as she continued her chanting against his chest.

"Why? Why? Why?"

A/N: Please review!