AN: So, I got an interesting review accusing me of stealing the idea for "flavored potions" from another author, tigertales. I'd never read tigertales before I got the review, because I've never really been a Hermione/Minerva fan, but I looked her up to see what the reviewer was talking about. Sure enough, flavored potions. Guys, I'm just writing this stuff for fun, and I'm genuinely not trying to rip anyone off or anything like that. Potions with flavoring in them just kind of seemed like something that Hermione would tinker around with. She's a curious chick; I could see her trying out some flavorings on potions mixtures to see if it affects the taste. On fanfiction . net alone, there are over 656,000 Harry Potter fanfics. I googled the phrase "Harry Potter fanfiction flavored potions", and got pages of results. All I'm saying is, you're likely to run into similar ideas eventually. Sorry if it upsets you so much, but as the old phrase goes: "There's nothing new under the sun".

AN(2): On that note, check out tigertales if you like Hermione/Minerva! There's some nice, light-hearted stuff there!

AN(3): Pretty serious stuff this chapter. Graphic descriptions of violence/death/crying kittens/etc. Don't worry, though, all the death stuff is happening to Death Eaters! Snape fans will not like this chapter. (Just kidding, there are no crying kittens! I would never be so cruel!)

DISCLAIMER: The House Cup thing seems like nothing more than a way to use peer pressure to make students kiss up to the professors. You pretty much just lose points when you annoy the professors or prefects. And, at the end of the year, what does the winning house really win, besides seeing their colors at the Leaving Feast and their Head getting to put a shiny trophy in their office? I think the House Cup is the greatest scam ever pulled, to be honest. And since I didn't think of it, I'm obviously not the owner of Harry Potter.

Chapter 9: Hermione's Worst Memory

Hermione sat at the kitchen table with Ron and the others. Fleur, Remus, Tonks and Bill also decided to join the group, both for Hermione's moral support and to sate their curiosity over what had happened to the dour potions master. Hermione looked around the table at mostly sympathetic and friendly faces, steeling her courage for what she was about to do. She hadn't thought too deeply about the day her parents died, and she wasn't particularly eager to delve into the memory of what was, without a doubt, the worst day of her short life.

Putting her wand to her temple, Hermione slowly drew out the memory of that day and placed it in the pensive. She swallowed hard as everyone dipped a finger into the bowl, herself included. The sensation of being pulled into the memory felt twice as jarring and nauseating this time, for some reason.


Hermione walked slowly down the street, her hands deep in her pockets and her mind deep in thought. She had finalized the arrangements with the realtors, and there was a very good deal on the table. All she needed was to tell her parents everything and try to somehow convince them that they needed to leave Britain as soon as possible.

"I had been in touch with a wizarding real estate agency since the end of fifth year." Hermione explained. "Apparently it was common for Muggleborn children to want to move their families somewhere safe in the last war, since they couldn't ward their houses without breaking the Statute of Secrecy. I finally had a good offer on the table to take to my parents, and I was headed home to tell them about the war and beg them to leave Britain."

The first sign that something was wrong was the sudden flash of green light that illuminated the window of her childhood home. With a growing lump in her throat, the witch pulled out her wand and ducked behind a bush on their lawn. She cast a few detection charms around the property, and found a charm that would sound if anyone came in the front door. She assumed that there would be one on the back door as well, so she carefully made her way to one of the side windows.

Once she was safely crouched under an open window, she heard voices filtering in from the living room. Voices that were terrifyingly familiar.

"Draco, you fool, I told you to leave them alive until we could find out where the Granger chit was." Severus Snape's hated voice filled her ears.

"Wasn't my fault," Draco whined in response, "the bitch wouldn't stop screaming long enough for me and Goyle to have some fun. I had to shut her up, or the neighbors would have heard."

Hermione was going to be sick, she felt blackness creep along the edges of her vision, but she forced herself to focus instead on the anger she was feeling. If she could just focus long enough to kill them, then she would have time to mourn her parents.

"You are filled with nothing but excuses, boy! You know that there is a silencing charm around the property, I put it up before we entered the house!" Snape spat at the pampered prince of Slytherin. "We are fortunate that the Ministry stopped watching this house, or we'd be up to our necks in Aurors."

"Let them come!" Hermione was surprised by the arrogant voice of Pansy Parkinson. "We're servants of the Dark Lord! None can stand against us!"

"We'll see about that…" Hermione whispered softly as she silently summoned a few rocks into her hand. Quickly, she used her wand to carve a few runes into the hard surfaces. She had been curious about using explosion runes to essentially create makeshift hand grenades for a while, now. It was an idea that had come to her while watching war movies with her father. She was finally going to test her theory, though she obviously wasn't too happy with the circumstances.

She took a few deep breaths as she prepared herself. Killing Fenrir Greyback had been one thing, she had mostly just reacted when she saw the werewolf on top of Bill, but this would be a calculated attack on unsuspecting people. Her resolve became iron-like when she realized that that was exactly what her former schoolmates had done to her parents.

Listening carefully, she waited until she knew how many were in the house. Finally, she counted six: Snape, Malfoy, Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini. She then waited until Snape moved away from the rest of them. She wanted to save him for last.

She tossed three rocks into the group of students, and one she overshot in Snape's direction. She only wanted him badly wounded, not dead…yet. Four small explosions rocked the house, and Hermione followed them up with three "flash grenades" that she had also made with a combination of an explosion and over-charged lighting rune. Once they had exploded, Hermione carefully peeked over the windowsill.

She cast a powerful shielding spell over herself before nonchalantly climbing into the window. The "fearless" Death Eaters were in complete disarray, cowering and trying to locate their assailant. They'd have a hard time finding her, as she'd made certain that the lighting spell was strong enough to completely burn their retinas. They would never be able to see again, even if Hermione had any intentions of letting them leave alive.

Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini had been torn apart by the explosions, but she was pleased to see that Malfoy and Parkinson were still alive, though barely. Snape was also simpering on the ground, bleeding from the two stumps that used to be his feet. He would last a while longer. Just long enough for her to deal with the "prince and princess" of Slytherin.

"Who will stand against the Dark Lord?" Hermione said in a commanding voice that none could believe belonged to her. "I would stand against him. I would stand and fight against him and all who bear his mark. I know that little Draco bears his mark, therefore his life is forfeit, but do you, Parkinson, wear the mark of that monster?"

"I…I…Oh God, please don't kill me!" Pansy shrieked. "I renounce the Dark Lord! I won't kill anyone ever again, just please spare me!"

Hermione knelt and looked into Pansy's burnt eyeballs, charred and gooey from the blast. The Muggleborn reflected for a moment that they looked like burnt marshmallows. She shivered inside her soul, realizing that she would never be able to eat s'mores again after today. "Did my parents beg for you to spare them?" She asked in a cold voice.

"I…they…PLEASE! PLEASE DON'T DO THIS!" Pansy begged, sobbing hysterically. Hermione slashed her throat with a silent and under-powered Diffindo. The kill may have been more out of pity, but she still wanted the bitch to bleed out.

"Pansy?! PANSY?!" Draco screamed as he listened to her gurgling. He reached out for her, only to shriek as his hands became warm and wet with her blood. "No! No, it's not supposed to be like this! You're not supposed to kill, Granger! Dumbledore never-"

"Dumbledore is dead, Draco. Because of you and that bat over there." Hermione calmly replied. "You killed the one person that could restrain the Order, and now it's open season on you and your kind. Thank you, Draco. I'll be sure to let as many Death Eaters as possible know that you and Snape are the reason I'm no longer afraid to kill."

She fired a piercing hex through his forehead, exploding the back of his skill in the process. He fell over into Pansy's lap, whose last few gurgles were more frantic when she felt his brain matter slide into her hand. She then turned to the last and most detested person of the group: Severus Snape.

"Granger. Help me." Snape begged, sounding completely unlike the man she knew for seven years. "I'm a double agent, working for Dumbledore. He wanted me to kill him, because he was dying already. I had to do it because he made me swear to. I want the Dark Lord dead just as badly as you do. Please, I need to be alive to help you and Potter. I just want that madman dead so I can live my life in peace."

Had he said those words to Hermione a year, even just a day ago, she would have healed him immediately and done everything in her power to help him. He may have been telling the truth, he may have been lying his ass off. This Hermione didn't give a shit.

"And I want you dead, and it looks like only one of us is going to be getting our wish today." She growled, leveling her wand at the dark man.

"You stupid bint! There's more at stake here than your petty revenge! Now listen-" Snape yelled, gearing up to rant.

"It's a bad habit you've got, Snape," Hermione mused, fingering her wand thoughtfully, "killing other peoples' parents."

"GET OVER IT, GRANGER!" Snape roared, spittle flying through his crooked yellow teeth. "THE DARK LORD ORDERED IT, AND I HAD TO MAINTAIN MY COVER!"

"Then, I'd better help you with that." Hermione replied coldly. "You want Riddle to believe that you're a Death Eater? Then I'd better treat you like a Death Eater. Reducto."

She watched the top of Snape's head disappear dispassionately. Head hanging and wand dangling from her limp fingers, she walked over to the bodies of her parents. The Killing Curse. The Muggleborn hoped that one day she'd be able to take solace in the fact that they didn't suffer. She fell to her knees by their sides and gently closed their eyes.

"I'm sorry." She whispered tearfully, emotion finally creeping back into her voice. "I'm sorry that you died for a war that you weren't even a part of. I'm sorry that I never told you everything. I'm sorry that you'll never know why you died."


Hermione pulled everyone out of her memory before they could see the break down that took place after that. Luna looked at Hermione with that calm look that she always seemed to wear. Neville looked sick. Harry looked at her distrustfully. Ron and Ginny looked at her with pity. She hated Ron and Ginny's looks the most.

"I managed to clean the living room and the rest of the house, as if nothing ever happened. I took the deal on the house and used the money to give my parents a private funeral. I cast a Confundus charm on the door of the funeral home so that no one would ask how they died. I came to the Burrow right after the funeral. I just…wanted to be with friends." Hermione swallowed hard, squeezing Fleur's hand under the table like a lifeline.

"I don't care if you hate me for the things I've had to do." Hermione said, looking directly at Harry. "I'll continue to put Death Eaters down like the rabid animals they are. You don't have to join me or even agree with me. I just…I wanted you all to understand why."

Everyone sat, looking thoughtful. Harry stood, his eyes never leaving Hermione's.

"When we kill, we are no better than the Death Eaters. You enjoyed their pain. You lowered yourself to their level that day. What's worse is that you're better than that. You were always better than that. But now, you're not the Hermione that I knew. She died in the Department of Mysteries. Tell yourself whatever you have to so that you can sleep at night, but after the war is over, I want nothing to do with you." Harry's face looked pained, even as his eyes remained steely. Hermione nodded.

"That's your decision." Hermione stood from her chair, ready to go back upstairs and just curl into a ball. "After the war, I'm leaving Britain. There's nothing left for me, here. I wish you a long and happy life, Harry."

Hermione walked out of the kitchen quietly, leaving behind a deafening silence in her wake.


Hermione sat on her bed, staring at her hands. Was Harry right? She did enjoy watching the Death Eaters writhe in pain. Did that make her dark? Technically, they were people, but they were also evil people. They routinely maimed and tortured people, and never felt guilty over it. Worse, they saw it as their right to do these terrible things.

But how am I any different? Hermione couldn't help but wonder. I see it as my right to kill them. Should I be capturing them, instead? Would it be better for them to be tried and then executed? But they would never get a fair trial! If Malfoy was able to walk away while being Riddle's right-hand man, then how could anyone else be convicted, let alone put to death?

Hermione lowered her head into her hands. This was giving her a headache.

The door clicked open and Fleur walked in. She looked at Hermione, who looked back with more than a little worry.

"Fleur, I...I'm sorry-"

"Shhhhhh." Fleur gently interrupted. She walked across the room and cast a Feather-light charm on the brunette, before picking her up. Propping herself up on the pillows, the blond sat Hermione in her lap and held her close, rocking her gently. The brunette buried her face in the blonde's shoulder, taking all of the comfort that her partner offered. After a while, Fleur held up a piece of parchment.

"I brought you some good news, sweetheart. Narcissa sent a message. She wants to meet us in the kitchen in a week. She says that she'll have the sixth Horcrux."


AN: Since the "content police" are apparently studying my writing to ensure that I don't rip off authors I've never heard of, I'll go ahead and say that the idea of Muggleborns using a wizarding real estate agency to relocate their families comes from the story "Harry Potter and the Manipulator of Destiny" by Wheezy1. I like that story because it's a nice long tale with the pretty standard "manipulative Dumbledore" and "Super Harry and co." If that's your thing, then I recommend it. It's got good character and story development. I really liked the idea of a wizarding real estate agency, because it kinda made sense to me. Muggleborns would possibly face fines for breaking the Statute of Secrecy if they tried warding their own homes, and they wouldn't really know a lot about doing it unless they studied warding pretty extensively. So the next best solution: relocate the family.

AN(2): Sorry guys, I realize that I'm coming off as really snarky. I was just kinda annoyed to come home to find someone getting on my case as if I'm Snidely Whiplash, running around stealing stories and laughing maniacally. Anyway, hope you guys still enjoyed!