When she walked into the door of her home and found her parents laying on the floor in front of her, dead, she walked calmly to her room, wand drawn and shut the door. A single tear rolled down her cheek and her breathing faltered for a moment. She knew that she should just leave, that she should just walk out the door and tell someone, but she needed to at least have the things that she loved with her when she left, because she knew she wouldn't come back. She turn to her trunk that she used for school and opened the lid. With a wave of her wand books began to fly from the shelves and piles on the floor, shrinking as they came closer and landed into the trunk. The closet door flew open and clothes began the same trip, the same dance to join the miniature books. From under the bed more books and board games levitated and worked into the shrinking waltz.
Hermione stopped to stare at those boxes. Her parents and she use to play together every Friday night during the holidays that she came home. As a family they use to eat hot cookies or brownies that she and her mother baked earlier in the day. Together, they had read aloud from some of shrunken books after the games they so loved. Monopoly, bingo, dominoes-all of them reduced to the size of a match book and settled into the trunk. As soon as the last disappeared over the edge and hit the bottom, Hermione snapped back to the task of sending the rest of her room into that trunk.
It didn't matter to her that she was using magic and would get into trouble. It didn't matter that her parent's murderers could be waiting for her in the house or waiting for her to leave so they could follow her to the headquarters of the Order. Packing everything she could was the only thing that mattered to her.
While the contents of her room swirled around her, most of it tiny now and in the trunk, she ran to her parents room and sent it into the same frenzy. Jewelry, clothes, books, perfumes, colones, shoes, the tv, mirrors, bed sheets, pictures-all of it started a line towards her room and quickly joined the tornado that became thinner as they flew into that trunk. The bathrooms were next, followed by the living room, then the kitchen. The house was almost empty, except for the occasional curtain and drape, and her parents laying on the floor.
Hermione shut the lid to the trunk and shrunk it to the size of a shoe box. Calling Crookshanks to her and putting him on a leash to keep him from running away from her, she walked to the living room. She bent and placed a kiss on the cheek of her mother and father.
"I'm sorry this happened," she whispered hoarsely, "I promise that I'll make you proud, and I'm going to start a family again, and I'll find out who did this to put them into Azkaban...I love you."
She walked out the front door without a look back, leash on her wrist, her trunk under her arm, and her wand in the opposite hand. She wasn't going to take the chance of anyone finding the Order. Even in this state she knew she couldn't risk it. She needed to go to the ministry...but if she did someone was bound to think it was she who had performed the curse that had killed her parents because she had taken the contents of her house with her before going to anyone. She could go to Hogwarts and talk to Dumbledore but he'd have to go to the ministry. She couldn't not do anything about it. That would just be more suspicious. She would need a place to stay, though, without question. The house was just too creepy to stay in, and was far more dangerous then the ministry at the moment. Molly Weasley would never leave her alone if she knew what happened and the last thing Hermione needed was Ron staring at her like she was a porcelain doll underneath the feet of a bull.
Once Hermione got to the end of her side walk she held out her wand and called the knight bus. She climbed the steps, ignoring the driver's merry greetings and only replying to tell him to take her to Hogsmead. It wasn't something that she should have thought about any way. Somehow, Dumbledore always managed to make things better. He always managed to help Harry and everyone else. So he could help her. She sat up in a bed in the back and stared at a the few people sleeping soundly, waiting to arrive at their destination. Thinking to herself, she knew that no matter what everything was going to be okay. She just needed to talk to Dumbledore. That's all she needed. And sooner or later, all the wrongs would become right again.
She was going to make sure of it, for her parents.