It was a dark, cold evening on Gadlsberg Avenue. A blue car started rolling down the street, it's headlights like giant explosions in the midnights darkness. The car stopped with a screech on Number 7, and then three figures stepped out of the automobile.
One of them went to the car trunk and took out a small black trunk. Another came and took out a cage, containing a brown cat; it's eyes maliciously glowing in the dark.
Then, all three walked calmly to the door of Number 7, where the third figure took out a set of keys and quickly opened the polished wooden door to get out of the cold. Her companions stepped inside and took their packages into a small room, before meeting back in the living room.
"Hermione," began a mans voice from a couch, beside his wife, "We have something to tell you, darling…"
"Well… What is it?" Asked Hermione Granger, from the other side of the room, where she was sitting on a comfortable armchair.
"This isn't easy to explain, dear," continued Hermione's mother.
"You see, we don't know how to tell you this, it'll be quite a shock," Added Hermione's father.
"Hermione, your father and I are demons. Demonic beings. And so are you; we've always known…" Hermione became completely speechless, not knowing what to say or think.
"Maybe this will help you conceive it," Her father said, as he stood up and walked behind the couch from which he took out a large, old, completely black, even to the ages, book, with an old fashioned leather latch keeping it closed. He walked back around the couch, and neatly placed the mysterious book on the coffee table so that is faced he and his wife...He glanced at his wife, which reassured him that they were doing the right thing, before unlatching the book.
His wife flipped through the pages, while he quickly walked to the kitchen and said, "This is the Grimmorie, Hermione, your father and I have had it for ages." She found the page she wanted, and soon after her husband came back with a round silver bowl and an old fashioned polished dagger. He sat and then they both took deep breaths before reading aloud:
"The secret we hid from you in the night,
Will
now become clear to your sight,
We return to you your true identity,
That of which a demonic entity."
Here they paused, to pick up the dagger. Each of them cut a long wound into the palms of their hands, and then held it over the bowl so that a few drops spilled into it. Hermione's mother stirred the blood with the tip of the dagger before continuing with her husband:
"With our blood, your demonic half will return,
Your true self you shall learn."
Hermione suddenly felt a slight tingle over take her body. The wind pounded against the windows, and soon forced them open. Pictures, coins, anything small, fell from the force of the circling air. The bowl began to glow, and then it gave off a loud scream and shot a beam of red light and sparks at Hermione. She could see her parents squinting in it, just before she closed her eyes for the impact, and then darkness…
Hermione awoke 3 nights later, feeling completely different then the way she had when she got out of her parents car. She felt something she never had before, and… liked it. She opened her eyes and found herself in her room. She could see her trunk at the foot of her bed, but where was Crookshanks?
She could feel cold all around her, and noticed she was wearing different clothes. Her parents had apparently changed her into a tight silk red dress, with a red silk top, like the upper part of a bathing suit, only it was squished tightly in the center like you would a paper flower.
Then an impulsive feeling over took her. Revenge. She stood up, and found that she was wearing leather bed high-heels. The odd thing was that she liked all of this too.
"Hermione?" Came her mothers voice. "Is that you?" She had heard the creek of the wooden floor and Hermione's shoe heel. Hermione didn't answer. She walked more carefully toward her bedroom door, and quietly opened it just enough for her to go through, so that it wasn't all the way open.
As quietly as possible, Hermione slowly crept toward the kitchen, where she knew her mother was. Her now curly hair got into her face, but she angrily shoved it aside. In an instant, she jumped into the kitchen, held out her hand instinctively, and somehow found herself holding a fireball. Almost as if she had been doing it her whole life, Hermione through it like a baseball. It hit her mother, and Hermione watched as she fell to the floor in pain, screaming a horrible sound that meant nothing to Hermione. Then the fire stopped burning around her mother, and there was nothing left of her.
"Hermione? Hunny?" Shouted her father as he came running into the kitchen. He stopped at the entrance and looked from Hermione to the scorch mark where he has last seen his wife, and then back again. "How could you?" He asked in a disgusted tone. He held out his own hand, and through a fireball at her. She made one herself and blew her fathers up.
Then, she held out her hand again, now knowing what she could do, and threw another fireball at her father, her own flesh and blood.
"Like this…" was all she said, in a cold, cold, voice. And again, she watched another one of they very people that had brought her into this world die.