Dear Diary,

It is the beginning of summer. I'm almost seventeen and a legal witch. My past school year has brought many challenges, but I have survived. I only hope that in the near future, my luck continues to run its course with me. I know my summer cannot be full of happiness; Voldemort is planning to take over the Wizarding World. However, I will not dwell on the bad bits and pieces of my life this summer.

My first day home was quite uneventful. Mum woke me early this morning and insisted that we go shopping to celebrate my homecoming. After that, we ate dinner as a family. The atmosphere of my home has changed. My parents know that dark days are ahead. The air smells of awkward intensity. Oh, I'm focusing on the evil again. I must stop.

I'm now lying on my hammock in the backyard. When I look up into the black night sky, I know, there must be another world. The universe is too big for there not to be. There must be an alternate universe. One in which everyone receives what they desire. Alas, I know this world cannot last long. The people in this alternate universe are unhappy. It's exterior is deceiving. Hell on earth exists there. They have no limitations, no boundaries. They may have everything, but that's not enough. I'm glad this Earth has limits. If we didn't, happiness could not be found. I hope this summer I can relax. I know that this will be hard though. Harry is spending his last summer at the Dursley's home. He will have to search for Horcruxes soon. Ron and I will accompany him, no matter how much Harry refuses; we will not abandon him.

It's getting quite late and the wind is picking up as well. This is my last entry for today.

-With love and happiness,

Hermione

The trees danced in the moonlight as Hermione sighed and closed her journal. She quickly put on her shoes and walked to her back door. She tried to enter her house quietly in fear of waking her parents. The brunette then tiptoed up the stair to her bedroom. She lazily threw her journal under her bed. Deciding she should rise early tomorrow, she hastily put on her dressing gown and climbed onto her bed. In seconds, the slow breathing of the girl could be heard.

The sun peeked through Hermione's window causing the girl to waken.

"Ugg, morning already," she commented to herself.

The door to Hermione's room opened with a tall, smiling woman emerging into the room.

"Hello dear. It's time to wake up. Look, your father and I are stepping out for a bit. While we're gone, why don't you clean the attic? I know it's a bit dull here compared to school, but this would give you something to do," the woman said to her daughter.

"I suppose your right. I guess I'll clean the attic. So, where are you and dad going?" Hermione replied.

"Oh, you know. Just out to London. We're merely going to be gone for a few hours. There's food in the fridge if you get hungry. Be good." With that said, the woman walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Hermione rose from her bed and walked to the loo, which was connected to her room. She showered and then dressed. After brushing her golden brown curls, she ventured into the kitchen to satisfy her grumbling stomach.

She ate in silence, thinking of how much she changed since the beginning of the year. She noted that her once bushy brown hair had turned to golden wavy locks that cascaded onto her back. To go along with her new curls, her body matured as well. Her teeth were straight and were no longer large. She now had womanly curves and in her opinion a rather sizeable bust. During the last few weeks of school, she remembered boys watching her and shouting catcalls when she passed them. Her thoughts where interrupted by the pecking of an owl at her kitchen window. She walked over and allowed the bird in her home, taking the letter tied around its leg. Hermione flipped through the pages of the Daily Prophet looking for any new information about Lord Voldemort. She was so engrossed that the large barn owl had to peck on the counter so Hermione would pay it. After her failed attempt to find anything new in the Wizarding World, Hermione set out for the attic, bringing cleaning products with her.

Hermione entered her attic with caution. She had not ventured in the room since she was a child and upon entering, flashes of her childhood came to mind. She swatted the memories away by shaking her head, trying to focus on the task at hand. She set the cleaning supplies down in an ancient looking chair and browsed the room's content. Upon her search, she found an old chest covered in layers of dust. This was as good a place as any to begin her task, she thought. Hermione took her cleaning rag and wiped the dust off. In the center of the chest was a carved emblem with the word "Evande" on it. Curiously, Hermione opened the chest. The trunk contained worn letters, photographs, and an assortment of wrapped gifts. She was utterly astounded. She speedily looked at the photographs, trying to analyze of who the people in them were. She noticed that the elderly woman had brown curls and the man had large front teeth. The resemblance of the couple to her was breath taking. She then realized that these were her grandparents, her mother's parents. The only thing she knew about them, was that they were dead. She continued to look through the pictures; when she looked at the last picture in that stack she threw it down and gasp. The picture was moving!

Hermione thought she had lost her mind. The last picture was moving! She knew that muggle pictures couldn't do that at all. That was when she figured it out.

"My grandparents were WIZARDS!" she screamed to herself.

Hermione was so excited that she ripped opened the letters in the trunk and read them all. When she finished, however, she was confused and upset. Apparently, her grandparents were still alive and trying to contact her. She also found out that her parents and grandparents had gotten into an argument and her parents refused to let them see Hermione. Alas, her grandparents wrote a letter and sent a present every holiday and birthday Hermione had ever experienced. Hermione was filled with rage and was full of questions. She was astonished that her parents had never told her about her grandparents. Why had they kept this from her? What was the argument about? Was her mother a witch? Suddenly, Hermione heard a door slam from down stairs. Quickly, Hermione shut the chest and ran down the stairs to meet the returning adults.

Hermione looked flustered and angry as she joined her parents, who were sitting casually in the kitchen, chatting idly. When she entered the room, her dad raised his head to look at her, immediately noticing her change in mood.

"Hi dear. What's the matter, you look angry?" he questioned.

"Nothing much. I was just cleaning the attic," Hermione replied coolly.

Her father looked dumbstruck and walked over to his wife. As he whispered quietly in her ear, the woman glanced at Hermione, fear racing through her eyes.

"Honey, you didn't happen to come across a trunk in the attic, did you?" her mother whispered.

"Oh, you bet I did. Why in the hell didn't you tell me you were a witch!" screamed Hermione. Her mother looked down in shame, quickly raising her eyes again to lock with her incensed daughter's.

"Honey, I'm not a witch. Your father and I, we thou--"

"NO! You didn't think! You could have told me and I would have understood! But instead, you lock away everything into some…dusty old trunk and expect me never to find out!" roared Hermione, huffing over to a chair. She sat down, and glared at the people she thought loved her, unbridled fury waging a war for dominance with logic. She should let them explain... but they hid this from her! They didn't deserve her 'understanding'.

"Dear, it was for your own good. Your grandparents were well known. You-know-who was in power. It wasn't safe. Your grandparents were archenemies wi--" The older woman was once again silenced by her daughter, whose inner war was finally over. Fury was victorious.

"I DON'T CARE! You could have TOLD me! My grandparents were trying to contact me! They cared," The young brunette witch roared. Shoving back from the table, she once again took to her feet. Her father was reminded of a caged tiger as he watched her pace the kitchen. Intending to sooth ruffled feathers, he tried to explain.

"Hermione, listen. Your mother chose not to be a witch a long time ago. She decided that muggle life was more interesting, and definitely more safe. She never went to Hogwarts. Her parents were so well known, and she wanted to separate herself from them. She wanted to make a name for herself,"

"Oh, so I get punished because mum decided to rebel against her parents, Merlin only knows how many years ago? That still doesn't make it alright!" Hermione cried back.

"That's not it at all," whimpered her mother.

"No! That's it! I can't handle this. There's no telling what else you lied to me about!" yelped Hermione. The tears she'd been holding back chose this moment to spill down her cheeks like a waterfall, and suddenly, she couldn't bear to look at her mother anymore.

With a sob, she turned from the room, and rushed up the stairs. She ran into her bedroom, slammed the door, and locked it. This was it. She just couldn't understand what would drive her parents to such ends, keeping such valuable information from her.
Grumbling under her breath, and periodically wiping tears from her eyes, she grabbed her wand and started throwing things into her trunk. She emptied her entire closet and took her all of her money. Quickly, before her parents realized what she was doing, Hermione raced out of her room, and climbed the hide-away stairs to the attic. She dragged the trunk containing her grandparents' things from under the massive pile of rubbish, and supported it as she clambered down the stairs. With a flick of her wand, and a few spoken words, her trunks were in the air, following her wherever she went. They followed her down the stairs, where she stumbled over the bottom step, before quickly righting herself. They followed her past the kitchen, where her Mum was sobbing, and her father had his arms wrapped around her, trying to comfort the woman. The followed her out the front door, which slammed heartily behind her, and she stood in the yard for a moment. Hermione took a single moment to analyze her actions, wondering if this was the right thing to do, before sniffling, and walking away. She didn't look back.

"This house is not a home," she whispered to herself, blinking back another wave of tears.

Hermione walked to an abandoned alley, and pulled out one of the letter her grandparents had written. Running her eyes over it again, she walked to the edge of the alley, and held out her wand. Suddenly, a large purple bus appeared in front of her. A tall, red-haired young man stumbled out.

"Hello, my name is Carter Crackis and I'll be your host this evening on the Knight Bus," he recited, still smiling. He then heaved Hermione's two trunks onto the bus and placed them by a small, moldy-looking bed.

"Where are you headed?" Mr. Crackis asked politely. "I'm going to see my grandparents. They live at 57 Lanier Drive," she sighed, reading the address off the envelope.

She paid the man and sat down on her temporary bed.

"I'm not wasting my summer. I'm going to see my grandparents and figure this out," Hermione mumbled to herself.

She lay down onto the bed, ignoring the stench that filled her nostrils, and tried to relax her mind which was full of worry and partial regret.