Hermione had been in the hut for a week now, some odd little house elf came every once and a while but refused to speak, only bringing food to her and going. She had walked on the grounds a few times over, and she had read two of the books, but she could not seem to get her mind off of things. She had not slept much; her dreams were plagued with memories of when her parents had been killed and with the guilt over their deaths. She had always prided herself on being one of the smartest witches, not just of her age as everyone called her, but of all ages. She believed that her understanding of both worlds made her faster and stronger, so she did not know the rules to quidditch, but in the long run her ability to use a computer or drive a car, talk on a phone and such, and would help their world with muggles. She laughed at Ron, who was unable to even know what a plug was, and had screamed on the phone when he had tried to call Harry one summer.
Hermione looked at the pendant she wore around her neck, the one thing she had been able to bring with her, and knew she could never go back. Not the house, she knew it would likely be destroyed and even if it was not she could never have faced the place where parents had been killed, but to the life she had left. Even if Albus had not wanted to kill her, she knew she was a criminal, she had believed their lies and she had committed serious offences. She wondered why she was here, if she was waiting to be handed over to Albus for the right price, or if she would be arrested soon enough, but she could do nothing but wait.
It was later that day she knew s she woke up from another nightmare that she needed to end this, and she looked for some paper. She realized she had been supplied with a lot but nothing to write with, and wondered if the man had feared she would find a way to get word out.
She remembered what she had been told and she called for the house elf that appeared. "I not be talking to Mistress. I be ironing hands if I be."
Hermione stopped the elf. "Your master said you would bring something I need. I need some parchment and a quill. I promise I am no writing to send a note."
The elf looked at her, and she knew the elf was not sure whether to believe her or not, but it disappeared. She prayed the elf would get what she had asked for; never wishing as much as now that an elf would do its role in life, and follow the orders of a witch. She had often complained, though her work for SPEW was a cover most of the time, that elves were slaves and if they were going to have servants, they should be human and paid for. She thought those rich spoiled wizards could afford to pay wages or they did no need such huge homes that required servants, but right now she needed the help of the little elf.
She was pacing back and forth through the hut when there was another pop, and she turned around to see the little house elf had returned. She could see it was not sure if he was doing the right thing, and looked ready to leave again.
Eventually the elf handed some ink, quill and parchment. "Master be telling me to look after you. Master be saying to get what you need. No disobey master."
Hermione took the items the little elf handed her. "Thank you. Your master will not be angry with you. You did just what you were told to do."
Hermione sat down at the table where she wrote, what looked like a letter but really it was a confession and journal, at first not sure who it was addressed to. In it she wrote about everything since she had become a witch, being so cared ad having he headmaster come to her and offer to help her in their world. She had truly believed she had been doing her best to protect the innocent of the world, and that Albus was trying to over throw both a Dark Lord, and a corrupt government. She had never believed she had been helping the man who had committed the atrocities, and she had believed spying on Harry would help the world, but she had been a fool. She ended with the death of her parents, he horror of watching them die, and knowing she would never have peace again.
As she signed the letter and addressed the top finally, she knew what she had to do, and prayed perhaps one day she would see her parents in the after life. She had done too many things in her life, she had helped to destroy too many lives, there was no redemption for her in this world.
She went to where the food was and picked up the knife and taking a deep breath she sliced deep into her wrists. "I am sorry."
The little elf suddenly appeared and looked at her as her blood soaked through her robes. "What you be doing? You not be doing this. Master be angry."
She knew the elf would go for his master, and she knew the man would come back, but he would not come back in time, she had made sure the wounds were too deep. She wondered as she lay there, if her body would be dumped into the near by ocean, or perhaps jus left here to rot, but she deserved no better of either option.
Sure enough the man appeared and took her into his arms. "You fool. The underground has set up a new life for you. You were to be smuggled to France tomorrow."
Hermione shook her head and pointed at the table. "Give that to him. He should know, he should know you're alive."
The man watched as Hermione slipped away, knowing even if he had apparated her right way to the nearest hospital, she would have died. Her heart would never have survived apparition after all the blood she had lost, and though in his many years in hiding he had studied a lot, he had never studied medicine. He knew who she had suffered, and he knew what she had been tricked into dong, and had believed she would find redemption eventually.
He carried her and buried her in a small plot he used his wand to make, in the back gardens, swearing if it was ever safe, she would be moved to be with her parents. He had not known her, he had seen her, and he knew here had been some goodness to the young woman, though her bad deeds seemed to out weigh them lately.
His elf pointed at the letter. "It be addressed to master's family, should me be taking letter for master be burning?"
He almost told the elf to take the letter, for he knew what he risked if he came back, but he stopped. He knew he would risk those he loved if he came back from the dead, he would risk what little family he had left, but he had been in hiding so long. He waned to see the world he left behind, he wanted to reclaim some of the life he had left behind, and now they knew the truth about Albs, he knew the person the letter was addressed to, would not be in as much risk as before.
He picked up the letter and pocketed it. "No. I think it is time I pay the young Harry a visit. I think my rise from the dead has been long over due."