Chapter 40
"A Home from Long Ago"
Hermione apparated to her bedroom. She collapsed on the floor, sobbing madly. Her life was a wreck and the world's doom was to come all because she failed to save it. She could have put a stop to the killings, the tortures, and the pain. It was all her fault, all her fault.
She must have fallen asleep, for she found herself lying on the floor, light pouring in from the window. Hermione went into the bathroom, throwing up just after remembering all that happened last night. Her face was pale and clammy, and she felt a fever coming on. She went back into her room and reached into a robe pocket to make sure her wand was in it. As her fingers felt it, she sighed a sigh of relief and then felt something silky and thin. She took it out, extracting a long, blue ribbon. She held the ribbon in front of her face. It was the ribbon she had worn on Christmas. It had fallen out when Harry had carried her for she was unconscious. He, Voldemort, must have picked it up. This made tears form in Hermione's eyes. That must have been when he cared.
She placed it back in the pocket, trying to shut out the events of that night. She then moved to take off the thick, black robe she was wearing. As she did so, she caught a scent, his scent. She carefully took it off, holding it in front of her. She starred at a tag near the collar, faded, yet readable.
Tom Riddle.
Hermione didn't know what to do, whether to clutch the robe to her breast or set it on fire. She realized that she must have looked stupid, standing there for a long time, rubbing the label with her thumb. She carefully folded the robe and placed it on her bed. She took out her wand, healing the cuts on her feet. She looked in the mirror, seeing scratch marks on her back. She didn't bother with them. She put on a knitted black sweater and khaki pants. She didn't bother putting on make-up. Though she refused to believe it, she had a natural beauty.
As she tossed her hair over her shoulders, her gaze fell on a three, rusted golden keys. She walked over to them and picked them up. She used a spell to get rid of the rust. One key had an address on it.
"1110 Archweild Street, London"
Looking out her window, seeing the snow starting to melt, seeing the naked trees tickled by a strong breeze, Hermione knew it was cold. She was going to walk over to her closet to grab a coat, but instead, walked over to her bed. She picked up the folded robe and shook it out, then put it on. She put on a pair of black leather boots and exited to her garage. She didn't see Crookshanks, but knew her parents had come to get him.
She checked the front of her car for any damage from that night. The windshield was busted out and the hood caved in a bit. One of the headlights was damaged as well. She took out her wand, said "Reparo!," and the damage to her car was gone. She opened the garage door, hopped into her car, and backed out of the driveway. She stopped, remembering something. She remembered how she used her mind to drag her wand to her and to open the gates. She turned and looked at her garage door, still wide open. She imagined it closing, concentrating hard on that thought. Suddenly, it gave a mighty shake before gently closing down.
"So, is this one of those great powers I'm suppose to have? Isn't this what muggles call telekinesis?" she said to herself.
She shook that thought, deciding to wait later on to find out more about this power. She drove by her parents' house, no one home. She only hoped they were somewhere safe.
It was a short drive to London. Hermione had never been to that part of the vast city, that is, the ghetto part. Poor, old houses littered this street, Archweild Street. It was gray and littered with papers and trash. Hobos slept in boxes while others gathered around fires in trashcans. She came to 1110 Archweild Street. She parked her car and muttered a few quick spells to protect it from carjackers or any other sort of ordeal.
Her boots clunked softly on the sidewalk as she walked up to the house. The windows were boarded up, as was the door. Hermione wondered why no one had tried to break in, but then knew why. The place had a dark aurora to it. Hermione felt like it was home, but not really. She tore down the boards blocking the door. She then inserted the key with the address on it in the rusted brass handle of the old oak door, and watched it twisted around by itself. The door opened slowly, creaking as it did. Hermione took out her wand and muttered "Lumos" for the place was terribly dark.
A wind swept through the open door. Hermione closed it and explored the house. Old, moth-eaten furniture dotted the place here and there. The roof had collapsed in some of the rooms she had explored. She stopped; looking in at what must be the living room, for it was large and had old sofas and a once-handsome fireplace. She stopped, leaning against the doorway, a memory coming back to her.
A short, lean woman with long, chocolate colored hair and misty blue eyes who was wearing a pearl necklace was busy hanging stockings up by the fire. A tall, lean bald man with cinnamon colored eyes was busy adding the finishing touches to a Christmas tree in the corner with many presents under it. They were her parents. Both turned around as Hermione walked into the room, shaking off her snow-covered school robes.
"There's our baby girl." chirped her mother.
She finished hanging her stockings and gave her daughter a hug. Her father did the same. Her mother bustled off to make tea. Her father took a seat in an armchair
"Well, how's your new school?" he asked her.
"Wonderful." said Hermione, sitting on the couch.
Her mother returned with a teapot and three teacups. She poured out some tea and gave out the cups. Hermione took a sip of her tea, and gently placed it on the coffee table.
"So, made any friends?" her mother asked.
"Yeah, a few." replied Hermione.
"Met any boys?" said her father.
Hermione blushed, trying to hide it. She wasn't sure of whether to tell them about a certain boy who had caught her eye.
"If so, I'll need to practice my scowl." said her father, getting up and walking over to a mirror on the wall, scowling in it. "How's this?"
"Oh, Charles, behave. It's about time our daughter got out and find herself a decent man. So, have you met anyone, my dear?" said her mother.
"Well, there's this one guy who's really nice and wonderful. He's Head Boy, makes good grades, and is a Slytherin." said Hermione.
"Ooh, both Head students in Slytherin, how marvelous. Oh, you have some mail from you friends in Oxford and from other people. I've placed it on your desk" said her mother.
She left the living room, hearing her parents talk about various news from the Daily Prophet. She went into a room, her bedroom, and shut the door. The room was a pale white color with a lovely wooden floor. A four-poster bed made from ebony that was built by her father stood next to the window. White curtains and a white canopy surrounded the bed. A large matching ebony dresser stood next to the closet as so did a bookshelf. Various pictures of animals and landscapes dotted he walls here and there. A desk stood in the corner. Quills and parchment rested gently on the surface.
She walked over to the desk, picking up envelopes, knowing they held Christmas cards. She kicked off her school shoes, took off her robe, and rested on her bed. She opened the first card. It was blue with snowflakes on it, enchanted to look like they were failing. It was from her best friend, Jessie, from Oxford.
"Dearest Katrina,
how are you? I'm enjoying new school here in Oxford. They actually allow guys here. I heard about your school, Hogwarts. Sounds wonderful. So, have you met anybody yet? I've met a guy named Dave. He's so wonderful. Anyways, have a wonderful Christmas. I've sent your gift to your mom. She should be placing it under the tree soon.
With love,
Jessie King."
She read all the rest of the cards from her friends and family. She was about to turn in for bed when she found a deep green envelope under the pile of white envelopes. She picked this one up, seeing her name etched in gold on the front in a beautiful hand-written text. She carefully opened this letter up. She took out a card. It was a deep green card with a scene of snow falling over woods, a log cabin with a chimney that puffed out smoke as lights danced from the windows. Shooting stars passed through the clouds and snow-filled sky. It was so beautiful. She opened the card to find the same neat handwriting and gold ink.
"To the Loveliest Woman in the World,
no one can take my breath away like you can. I watch you from afar, not sure whether or not to I can bare the courage to even say "hello" to you. Before you came along, I was living in a world of shadows, of hate, of self- pity. Never had such a beauty with such radiant light ever guided me out of this world. If only I had the money to buy you nice things, if only I had the money to take you to nice places, but all I can offer is the love I have. I cannot tell you who I am, but when the time comes, you will find out.
Forever yours."
She looked at the card. It was so beautiful and the message was moving and breath-taking. She didn't know who it was from, but the way it was written made her feel loved, appreciated. Who would send her this card?
Hermione woke up from her memory, starring into the dark room. She walked down the hallway, stopping at a door. She took out the keys and inserted one into the lock. It did the same as the other, twisting and turning on its own. Hermione gave the door a pushed and stepped into a room, her room.
A four-poster bed made from ebony, old and falling apart, stood next to the boarded-up window. Dirty white, moth-eaten curtains and a faded ivory top surrounded the bed. A large matching ebony dresser, molded and weatherworn and a fallen-apart bookshelf with unreadable books stood next to a door. A desk, also like the dresser, was covered from bits and pieces of fallen ceiling.
Hermione touched these things, seeing them as they were when they were in their prime. She drifted over to the door, the closet door, and opened it. It was empty. She was about to close it when she remembered something about the floorboards coming loose. She bent down, feeling around for any crack and found one. The floorboards came off, and Hermione pulled out a large, old trunk. She used the third key to open it. Inside were several pictures of her as Katrina, her parents, and several other things. She found the Christmas cards she had gotten in her seventh year, picking up the one that touched her heart so long ago.
It was still in perfect condition. The snow and everything else was still charmed and working well. The writing was still fresh and readable. Hermione knew who sent her this card, but took out her wand to see. She used a charm to reveal invisible ink, and surely enough, a name was etched on the bottom of the inside of the card.
Tom Marvolo Riddle.
She didn't know why she never suspected that someone could have used invisible ink to write something, but years of auror training taught her to always be suspicious of everything. Hard to believe that someone so evil and emotionless could write such a beautiful thing. She rummaged some more through the trunk, finding pictures of her at her old school and pictures of her at her new school. She found one of a sulking Tom Riddle, one of Bellatrix laughing wildly, and one of her working on work.
Hermione closed the trunk and picked it up. She carried it out to her car and looked back at the home she once knew. She was surprised to see that the door had somehow boarded itself up again. She drove down to an old cemetery, long forgotten and overgrown with weeds. She found the graves her heart told her to look for.
"Charles and Lidia Smith"
She conjured up some roses and placed them on the graves. She held back a tear, looking around the old cemetery. Her heart gave a leap when her eyes rested on a large, black tombstone covered in thick moss and wild ivy. Hermione walked over to it and scrub the moss off. When all of it was gone, she gazed at the name on it.
"Katrina Anne Smith"
The day she died was the same day Hermione was born. She guessed that they used her maiden name to protect her. Hermione couldn't believe that her old body was resting beneath her feet. It seemed too odd to think such a thing. She traced the carved letters with her finger, trying desperately to remember anything just before she died.
She remembered standing on a balcony, starring at the people around her. She remembered seeing a man who resembled Harry, Harry's father. She remembered leaping off the balcony. A cold shudder ran up her spine as she saw and felt herself hit the rocks of the raging river below.
She wiped the tears from her face and got up. No, she was not dead, she was alive. She only had a new body and a new purpose in life. She felt a tang of dread hit her. She felt something was not right. She jumped into her car, knowing something was about to change her future and the world's future.
"A Home from Long Ago"
Hermione apparated to her bedroom. She collapsed on the floor, sobbing madly. Her life was a wreck and the world's doom was to come all because she failed to save it. She could have put a stop to the killings, the tortures, and the pain. It was all her fault, all her fault.
She must have fallen asleep, for she found herself lying on the floor, light pouring in from the window. Hermione went into the bathroom, throwing up just after remembering all that happened last night. Her face was pale and clammy, and she felt a fever coming on. She went back into her room and reached into a robe pocket to make sure her wand was in it. As her fingers felt it, she sighed a sigh of relief and then felt something silky and thin. She took it out, extracting a long, blue ribbon. She held the ribbon in front of her face. It was the ribbon she had worn on Christmas. It had fallen out when Harry had carried her for she was unconscious. He, Voldemort, must have picked it up. This made tears form in Hermione's eyes. That must have been when he cared.
She placed it back in the pocket, trying to shut out the events of that night. She then moved to take off the thick, black robe she was wearing. As she did so, she caught a scent, his scent. She carefully took it off, holding it in front of her. She starred at a tag near the collar, faded, yet readable.
Tom Riddle.
Hermione didn't know what to do, whether to clutch the robe to her breast or set it on fire. She realized that she must have looked stupid, standing there for a long time, rubbing the label with her thumb. She carefully folded the robe and placed it on her bed. She took out her wand, healing the cuts on her feet. She looked in the mirror, seeing scratch marks on her back. She didn't bother with them. She put on a knitted black sweater and khaki pants. She didn't bother putting on make-up. Though she refused to believe it, she had a natural beauty.
As she tossed her hair over her shoulders, her gaze fell on a three, rusted golden keys. She walked over to them and picked them up. She used a spell to get rid of the rust. One key had an address on it.
"1110 Archweild Street, London"
Looking out her window, seeing the snow starting to melt, seeing the naked trees tickled by a strong breeze, Hermione knew it was cold. She was going to walk over to her closet to grab a coat, but instead, walked over to her bed. She picked up the folded robe and shook it out, then put it on. She put on a pair of black leather boots and exited to her garage. She didn't see Crookshanks, but knew her parents had come to get him.
She checked the front of her car for any damage from that night. The windshield was busted out and the hood caved in a bit. One of the headlights was damaged as well. She took out her wand, said "Reparo!," and the damage to her car was gone. She opened the garage door, hopped into her car, and backed out of the driveway. She stopped, remembering something. She remembered how she used her mind to drag her wand to her and to open the gates. She turned and looked at her garage door, still wide open. She imagined it closing, concentrating hard on that thought. Suddenly, it gave a mighty shake before gently closing down.
"So, is this one of those great powers I'm suppose to have? Isn't this what muggles call telekinesis?" she said to herself.
She shook that thought, deciding to wait later on to find out more about this power. She drove by her parents' house, no one home. She only hoped they were somewhere safe.
It was a short drive to London. Hermione had never been to that part of the vast city, that is, the ghetto part. Poor, old houses littered this street, Archweild Street. It was gray and littered with papers and trash. Hobos slept in boxes while others gathered around fires in trashcans. She came to 1110 Archweild Street. She parked her car and muttered a few quick spells to protect it from carjackers or any other sort of ordeal.
Her boots clunked softly on the sidewalk as she walked up to the house. The windows were boarded up, as was the door. Hermione wondered why no one had tried to break in, but then knew why. The place had a dark aurora to it. Hermione felt like it was home, but not really. She tore down the boards blocking the door. She then inserted the key with the address on it in the rusted brass handle of the old oak door, and watched it twisted around by itself. The door opened slowly, creaking as it did. Hermione took out her wand and muttered "Lumos" for the place was terribly dark.
A wind swept through the open door. Hermione closed it and explored the house. Old, moth-eaten furniture dotted the place here and there. The roof had collapsed in some of the rooms she had explored. She stopped; looking in at what must be the living room, for it was large and had old sofas and a once-handsome fireplace. She stopped, leaning against the doorway, a memory coming back to her.
A short, lean woman with long, chocolate colored hair and misty blue eyes who was wearing a pearl necklace was busy hanging stockings up by the fire. A tall, lean bald man with cinnamon colored eyes was busy adding the finishing touches to a Christmas tree in the corner with many presents under it. They were her parents. Both turned around as Hermione walked into the room, shaking off her snow-covered school robes.
"There's our baby girl." chirped her mother.
She finished hanging her stockings and gave her daughter a hug. Her father did the same. Her mother bustled off to make tea. Her father took a seat in an armchair
"Well, how's your new school?" he asked her.
"Wonderful." said Hermione, sitting on the couch.
Her mother returned with a teapot and three teacups. She poured out some tea and gave out the cups. Hermione took a sip of her tea, and gently placed it on the coffee table.
"So, made any friends?" her mother asked.
"Yeah, a few." replied Hermione.
"Met any boys?" said her father.
Hermione blushed, trying to hide it. She wasn't sure of whether to tell them about a certain boy who had caught her eye.
"If so, I'll need to practice my scowl." said her father, getting up and walking over to a mirror on the wall, scowling in it. "How's this?"
"Oh, Charles, behave. It's about time our daughter got out and find herself a decent man. So, have you met anyone, my dear?" said her mother.
"Well, there's this one guy who's really nice and wonderful. He's Head Boy, makes good grades, and is a Slytherin." said Hermione.
"Ooh, both Head students in Slytherin, how marvelous. Oh, you have some mail from you friends in Oxford and from other people. I've placed it on your desk" said her mother.
She left the living room, hearing her parents talk about various news from the Daily Prophet. She went into a room, her bedroom, and shut the door. The room was a pale white color with a lovely wooden floor. A four-poster bed made from ebony that was built by her father stood next to the window. White curtains and a white canopy surrounded the bed. A large matching ebony dresser stood next to the closet as so did a bookshelf. Various pictures of animals and landscapes dotted he walls here and there. A desk stood in the corner. Quills and parchment rested gently on the surface.
She walked over to the desk, picking up envelopes, knowing they held Christmas cards. She kicked off her school shoes, took off her robe, and rested on her bed. She opened the first card. It was blue with snowflakes on it, enchanted to look like they were failing. It was from her best friend, Jessie, from Oxford.
"Dearest Katrina,
how are you? I'm enjoying new school here in Oxford. They actually allow guys here. I heard about your school, Hogwarts. Sounds wonderful. So, have you met anybody yet? I've met a guy named Dave. He's so wonderful. Anyways, have a wonderful Christmas. I've sent your gift to your mom. She should be placing it under the tree soon.
With love,
Jessie King."
She read all the rest of the cards from her friends and family. She was about to turn in for bed when she found a deep green envelope under the pile of white envelopes. She picked this one up, seeing her name etched in gold on the front in a beautiful hand-written text. She carefully opened this letter up. She took out a card. It was a deep green card with a scene of snow falling over woods, a log cabin with a chimney that puffed out smoke as lights danced from the windows. Shooting stars passed through the clouds and snow-filled sky. It was so beautiful. She opened the card to find the same neat handwriting and gold ink.
"To the Loveliest Woman in the World,
no one can take my breath away like you can. I watch you from afar, not sure whether or not to I can bare the courage to even say "hello" to you. Before you came along, I was living in a world of shadows, of hate, of self- pity. Never had such a beauty with such radiant light ever guided me out of this world. If only I had the money to buy you nice things, if only I had the money to take you to nice places, but all I can offer is the love I have. I cannot tell you who I am, but when the time comes, you will find out.
Forever yours."
She looked at the card. It was so beautiful and the message was moving and breath-taking. She didn't know who it was from, but the way it was written made her feel loved, appreciated. Who would send her this card?
Hermione woke up from her memory, starring into the dark room. She walked down the hallway, stopping at a door. She took out the keys and inserted one into the lock. It did the same as the other, twisting and turning on its own. Hermione gave the door a pushed and stepped into a room, her room.
A four-poster bed made from ebony, old and falling apart, stood next to the boarded-up window. Dirty white, moth-eaten curtains and a faded ivory top surrounded the bed. A large matching ebony dresser, molded and weatherworn and a fallen-apart bookshelf with unreadable books stood next to a door. A desk, also like the dresser, was covered from bits and pieces of fallen ceiling.
Hermione touched these things, seeing them as they were when they were in their prime. She drifted over to the door, the closet door, and opened it. It was empty. She was about to close it when she remembered something about the floorboards coming loose. She bent down, feeling around for any crack and found one. The floorboards came off, and Hermione pulled out a large, old trunk. She used the third key to open it. Inside were several pictures of her as Katrina, her parents, and several other things. She found the Christmas cards she had gotten in her seventh year, picking up the one that touched her heart so long ago.
It was still in perfect condition. The snow and everything else was still charmed and working well. The writing was still fresh and readable. Hermione knew who sent her this card, but took out her wand to see. She used a charm to reveal invisible ink, and surely enough, a name was etched on the bottom of the inside of the card.
Tom Marvolo Riddle.
She didn't know why she never suspected that someone could have used invisible ink to write something, but years of auror training taught her to always be suspicious of everything. Hard to believe that someone so evil and emotionless could write such a beautiful thing. She rummaged some more through the trunk, finding pictures of her at her old school and pictures of her at her new school. She found one of a sulking Tom Riddle, one of Bellatrix laughing wildly, and one of her working on work.
Hermione closed the trunk and picked it up. She carried it out to her car and looked back at the home she once knew. She was surprised to see that the door had somehow boarded itself up again. She drove down to an old cemetery, long forgotten and overgrown with weeds. She found the graves her heart told her to look for.
"Charles and Lidia Smith"
She conjured up some roses and placed them on the graves. She held back a tear, looking around the old cemetery. Her heart gave a leap when her eyes rested on a large, black tombstone covered in thick moss and wild ivy. Hermione walked over to it and scrub the moss off. When all of it was gone, she gazed at the name on it.
"Katrina Anne Smith"
The day she died was the same day Hermione was born. She guessed that they used her maiden name to protect her. Hermione couldn't believe that her old body was resting beneath her feet. It seemed too odd to think such a thing. She traced the carved letters with her finger, trying desperately to remember anything just before she died.
She remembered standing on a balcony, starring at the people around her. She remembered seeing a man who resembled Harry, Harry's father. She remembered leaping off the balcony. A cold shudder ran up her spine as she saw and felt herself hit the rocks of the raging river below.
She wiped the tears from her face and got up. No, she was not dead, she was alive. She only had a new body and a new purpose in life. She felt a tang of dread hit her. She felt something was not right. She jumped into her car, knowing something was about to change her future and the world's future.