"I'm sorry, Miss Granger, but there is simply nothing we can do," the old lady frowned. "There's nothing more we can do to help them." She looked at the younger witch, who's eyes were bright and brimmed with unshed tears.

Her eyes shifted to the side again and became glazed with a glassy layer of tears. As she blinked, they dripped from her eyelids and slid down her cheeks. She bit her lip tightly in attempt to hide any sound that wanted to escape from her mouth; at the sight of such a renowned and kind witch in that state, the older witch's heart sank. Her lower lip quivered as words slowly made their way out of her mouth.

"They're…" she began, yet what followed was engulfed in the tremors.

"No..." Hermione finally spoke, her voice soft, a tear gliding down her pale cheek, "You don't understand. They're ...they're my parents, you must do something!" Her voice wavered as more tears streaked her cheeks.

" Miss Granger, I am truly sorry, I really am, dear. But a spell that powerful, reversing the memory charm is no easy feat. There are reported cases that torture can bring back memories but other than that there is nothing." Hermione put a hand over her mouth, trying to hold back her sobs. "I'm so sorry, dear." The woman sighed and looked down at her clipboard.

Hermione nodded. The lady led her over to a seat and sat her down. "We are going to release them, and erase their memories of St Mungo's and being around magic and send them home in Australia." The nurse was gentle with her words, but straight forward and she explained this to the crying girl.

Hermione wiped her cheeks, " So... they'll always be W...Wendell and Monica Wilkins?" she asked even though she already knew the answer, she couldn't help but hope. The nurse nodded.

"Could I have a few minutes alone?" she asked the older woman, the nurse muttered something to the remarks of 'of course, dear' and got up, walking out of the waiting room. The tears flowed unchecked down her cheeks and dripped from her chin. She was too sad to cry out or wail, she just sat there as still as a statue while the magnitude of her loss swept over her. When asked years later to describe her sadness in the moment she heard of the tragic news of her parents never being able to remember her, her eyes would brim with tears once more, as if all those years had passed in a matter of seconds and she would say nothing. For once again she was lost in the torrid vortex of the moment, it was a moment that carried her forwards until only death could release her from it's clutches. She was forever tormented by a past that could not be undone. Hermione wiped her nose on her sleeve, not even caring at the moment; she altered their memories to prevent Voldemort from finding them and using them to get to her, she gave them those names. She gave them a different past, she sent them to Austrailia, her not having her parents, them not remembering her, she was to blame.

It was her fault she wouldn't get to have Christmas with her mum and dad. That they'd never have dinner with a boyfriend or meet her future husband when she got one, that they'd never go to her wedding, hold their grandchildren, it was her fault her parents didn't even know that she was theirs. She wished she could fix it but she can't. She was to blame.

At least they were safe.

Hermione picked up her bag and draped her tan trench coat over her arm. As she walked over to the reception desk, she wiped away the tears on her wet face, trying her best to compose herself. When she saw the nurse, she nodded to her and then followed her to her parents' room. They were getting ready to go back to their home back in Australia and to be obliviated for the second time, so they won't remember the wizarding world and St Mungo's. Her mum was fixing her dad's shirt, she almost broke down at the sight... knowing it would be the last time she'd see it.

"May I?" the Gryffindor plucked up the courage and when the nurse gave the okay, she turned the door handle and walked in. Mr & Mrs Granger – now Wilkins – turned to look at the girl, her mum first spoke, " Hello?" she questioned.

"Hi," Hermione bit back her tears threatening to come out," I just wanted to check to see if you are alright..." she said carefully.

"Do we know you?" her dad asked. Her heartache was was like a wolf eating at her chest, tearing it's way to her trembling heart. It threatened to devour her, eat her whole and leave nothing but scraps behind. But she refused to be the scraps it would leave. She would rebuild herself and fight off the wolf, but right now he didn't know how. So she did his best to calm down and not break down, she clutched onto the bag her parents gave to her when she first came to Hogwarts. But she found that she couldn't keep the smiling face up any longer, she had to leave, but she wanted to savour her last moments with them before they go back to Australia.

"No," she choked the words felt like a betrayal to herself, she longed to tell them that she was their daughter, that she loved them. A lump was in her throat, her fingers were shaking.

"Where are your parents, dear?" asked her mum. Hermione looked into her mum's eyes and saw concern in them, but her mum still didn't remember, she bowed her head down to not show them how broken she felt and she said softly,"I am orphan now."

The words hit her like a slap, she said that out loud, she had to leave, she couldn't breathe in that room, she needed to go so she said, "Sorry! I have to go, my friends are going to be looking for me. Bye!"

She ran. Trying to be a model student and good, always happy person in public is hard, she let go all her feelings and cried until her chest hurt.