Chapter 21: My name is Hermia
The house was uncomfortably quiet. Hermia had gone to her room immediately after she and Ron had returned from Azkaban closing the door and demanding to be left alone and had not come out for over six hours. Growing worried when her self-inflicted isolation started to near the seven hour mark, Ron decided to venture up the stairs to her sanctuary to see if he could get her to talk.
Brushing his hair nervously back from his face with his long fingers, he came to a stop just outside her door. He tugged lightly on his clothes, making sure that they were sitting in place when he finally reached out and rapped lightly on the door. He waited several minutes as he heard rustling on the other side of the oak panel, but no invitation to enter the room.
Becoming slightly frustrated Ron tried again, rapping his knuckles harder against the solid barrier. "Hermione open up."
Through the wood he heard the sound of a drawer close followed soon after with the gentle whiz of a zipper closing. Loosing all patience at this point Ron turned the handle on the door and strode into the room without being granted entrance.
Three steps through the portal he froze. What he saw caused his blood to run cold and his heart to stop in his chest. Hermia's bags sat on the bed, one open waiting to be filled with more of her belongings, the other closed and bulging slightly with its load.
Forcing himself to tear his eyes from the bags and to look at the girl who stood stonily across the room refusing to look at him, her chin tilted defiantly. It took several attempts but he managed to croak. "What's going on?"
Hermia forced herself to look at him. She licked her dry lips before trying to speak once, and than twice finally managing on the third attempt to say in a voice barley above a whisper. "I'm going home, Ron."
Her words tore at him like a knife imbedded in his heart. "You are home, Hermione."
"No." She shook her head, her voice gaining a little confidence. "I'm not. I don't want to have anything to do with this."
Ron stumbled back slightly like the words had physically wounded him. "You can't mean that."
Hermia swallowed past the lump in her throat, forcing herself to remain strong. "I assure you, I do." She shook her head again. "I don't want to have anything to do with being a witch. I don't want my daughters to grow up in this world. I don't want this."
"Hermione…"
"Don't call me that!" she cried, cutting him off with a slash of her hand. "She doesn't exist anymore. She can never exist ever again."
"Mione, please." Ron reached out to her beseechingly.
Hermia turned her back on him and wandered over to the desk sitting in the corner. She couldn't bear to look at him any longer. The pain in his eyes was too great. If she continued to look at him she knew he would break down the wall she had spent the last six hours building around her heart. "She's gone Ron. Hermione Jane Granger died almost two years ago. I'm Hermia now. Hermia Doe."
"You can't do this."
"I already have." She tried to force her hands to fold the blouse she held but the attempt was futile, the fabric wouldn't fold right in her shaky hands. "I appreciate all you've done for me. Thank you for not giving up on me, for coming to find me…for trying, but I can't stay here any longer.
"So that's it then?" Ron pushed the overwhelming pain aside, deciding instead to focus on the anger that was beginning to well inside him. "You're just going to take my daughters and leave? Pretend like none of this ever happened?"
"Yes." Hermia's voice croaked from the corner. "That's exactly right."
"Bloody Hell!" He exploded. "There is no way in hell that I am going to let you take my daughters away from me!"
Hermia spun around, reacting instinctually to his anger. "You don't understand do you?" She strode briskly up to him and jabbed her finger into his chest. "You told me that I could come here, listen to what you had to say and then make my decision. I've done that. I have listened to the facts and I have decided that I don't want this. I don't want to be a witch and I don't want my daughters to be one either."
A hot flush covered his cheeks as Ron's face contorted in anger. "Your daughters? I believe the last time I checked they were my daughter too!"
"You've only just met them!" She cried indignantly.
"That doesn't mean I don't care about them, or have their best interest at heart!" He shouted back. "They're my daughters too and I wanted them raised as witches!"
"Well that's too bad because I'm raising them normal, as muggles!"
"Bloody Hell Hermione, what are you thinking!" Ron turned on his heel and started pacing the room ignoring Harry who had just arrived at the bedroom door. "You really don't understand what is going on, do you?"
"I'm perfectly aware…"
"I don't think you are." Ron snapped, cutting her off. "What happened to the logic and the common sense you were born with? Don't you understand? You can't just decide that your children aren't witches. It doesn't work that way. Ask Harry." Hermia glanced at the man standing in the doorframe. "His aunt and uncle tried to stomp it out of him and they failed. They failed. They failed because you can not stomp out magic. It's who you are."
Hermia shook her head determinedly. "I'm not raising them as witches." She crossed her arms stubbornly in front of her chest. "Nothing you can say will change my mind on that."
Ron ceased his pacing. His eyes pinned on her and looked at her like he had never seen her before. He took several calming breaths when he felt the tingle in his fingers to throttle her. "You can not raise Hero and Helena alone." He said in a slow, forcefully calm voice. "There magic is beyond your control."
"What are you talking about?"
"They are only one year old and already they are powerful witches." Ron pressed his fingers wearily to his eyes. "Do you remember what happened the day Harry and I found you?" Hermia nodded afraid her voice might not work. "Remember how Nate came rushing in the room terrified because a bottle had gone flying past his head?"
"What does that have to do with anything? I read that all magical children do accidental magic."
"The key word there being accidental. Most children loose control when they are angry or scared. Helena performed magic because she was annoyed that Nate hadn't gotten her bottle to her fast enough. She did a summoning charm without a wand. That's wandless magic, Hermione. Most fully grown, fully trained wizards can't perform wandless magic like that. And she's one year old."
"That was only that one time…"
"Don't lie to me ,Hermione." Ron growled angrily. "Lizzie said they thought you had a poltergeist in the house. I talked to my mum yesterday. It seems she has caught Hero and Helena in the act several times."
"I don't care." Hermia sank with defeat onto the bed, pinching the bridge of her nose to ward away the headache gathering behind her eyes. "I just want to go home and raise my daughter as normal children."
"What reason could you possibly have for wanting to raise the girls as Muggles? Yesterday you were talking about getting your old school books so you could re-teach yourself everything you have forgotten. Why the change of heart?"
"It's safer." she finally snapped, angry at Ron for being so persistent. "I will do anything to protect my daughters, and I do not want them growing up in this world. It's not safe."
"What are you on about? They're safer in the magical world than the Muggle world."
"Bullocks!" Hermia spun around and walked back to the desk and picked up a heavy volume that Ron recognized as the book they had bought that day in Diagon Alley. "Have you read this, Ronald?" She watched him nod. "All of it? Cover to cover."
"Yes." He snapped, annoyed with her nettling.
"Than how can you possibly stand there and tell me that the magic world is safer than the Muggle world? Do you know how many times I've almost died? At least seven," she didn't give him a chance to answer, "if not more. Please tell me how that is safer than the Muggle world."
"You didn't die, Hermione." Harry pointed out from his spot at the door, speaking for the first time since he arrived.
"But I could have." She shouted back at the two men. "I foolishly believed that magic could save me. But the truth is that the only reason why I survived was because of luck or the use of intellect. And what put me in those positions? Magic." She shook her bushy head. She threw the book on the bed as she walked over to her open bag and pulled out a long bit of polished wood. "Magic is dangerous, and I want nothing to do with it."
Ron watched in horror as Hermia took her wand between her hands and started bringing it down towards her knee. "Hermione," He lurched toward her. "No!"
Harry, thinking quickly, flicked his wand and shouted "Expeliams." And watched with relief as the wand flew out of her hands, glided in a great arch across the room, and landed safely in his hand.
"Hey!" She shouted, lunging after her wand. "Give that back!"
"No." Harry pocketed the wand and stepped away from her reaching grasp. "Not until you start using some common sense." He looked disbelieving at his friend. "What happened to Hermione Granger? She never would have done something foolish like snapping her wand."
"That's just it." She cried, throwing her hands into the air. "I'm not Hermione. Not anymore. I am Hermia. I have been for a long time. You keep calling me Hermione but the name means nothing to me. I can't think of myself as her. I don't identify with that name or anything that it stands for. I'm not that girl. I can't be Hermione and I don't want to be."
"Mione," Ron placed his hands on her shoulders and forced her to look into his tear filled eyes. Her rejection of him and her very self tore at him leaving him feeling as empty and cold as he had when she first disappeared. "If you leave, I can't protect you." He pleaded. "Do you understand that?"
"I don't need your protection."
"Don't you?" Ron let his hands fall away. "They haven't caught all the Death Eaters, Mione. There are still some of them out there. And they hate us. They blame us for the down fall or their master."
"And rightly so." Harry piped in helpfully.
"They would do anything to avenge him, Hermione. But none of them are stupid enough to come after me and Harry. They've had no reason to come after you. We've all thought you were dead. That, along with Malfoy's 'Charm', has protected you these two years. You have neither now. The charm was broken and just this morning the Daily Profit printed an article about you. Now the entire wizarding world knows that you are alive and that you have amnesia."
"So?"
Ron's mouth gapped open in surprise. "Think, Hermione. You are an easy target. If you leave here you will have every free Death Eater hunting you until you are dead and you have no way of defending yourself."
"I can buy a gun." She said unreasonably, knowing even while she said it that she would never willingly bring a gun anywhere near her daughters.
Ron snorted. "Do you think a gun is going to save you against a fully trained wizard?"
"That's a risk I'm willing to take."
"Well I'm not. Not when it concerns the life of the woman I love or my children. I won't let you put them in danger.
"You have no say in the matter. They're my children."
"They're our children." He shouted with such power and conviction that Hermia took a step back in fright. "I have just as much say in what happens to them as you do. I will not let you put their lives in danger and I will not let you keep them from being witches."
"Legally they're mine and I say they won't."
Ron's eyes narrowed on her. She could see his mind working, going over his options. Finally he shrugged and said in an almost nonchalant tone. "Then I'll fight you for them."
"What?" Hermia gasped in disbelief. Even Harry who was still standing in the doorway stiffened uncomfortably. "They're all I have left in the world." She looked up at him with tear filled eyes. "And you would take them from me?"
"Only if you force me to. This isn't just about you, Hermione. This is about them. If you return to that house I can't watch over you. I won't always be there. And the one time that I'm not is the one time that you're going to need me. Magic is the only way to defend yourself against a witch or wizard."
Hermia lifted her tear streaked face to stare deep into his blue eyes. Her chin quivered and her voice shook when she finally spoke. "I don't want to be a witch. I just want to take my daughters and go home." She shook her head as more silent tears flowed down her face. "Weren't you listening to Draco Malfoy today?" She continued, holding up a beseeching hand. "He hates us for being good. He tried to kill me because I was good." She shook her head more resound then the last time. "I don't want to raise my daughters in a world where people are hated for being good." She stood up and zipped the final bag closed. She hoisted both straps onto her shoulders. She slowly turned to face him. "You can come and see the girls when ever you want. I won't try to keep them from you. But I don't want them to have anything to do with magic."
Hermia turned and walked briskly out the door. Without hesitating a moment, Ron and Harry followed after. "So this is it?" Ron called after her retreating back. "I've spent the last two years of my life looking for you and you're just going to leave?"
"It's the only way."
"Hermio…"
"Hermia." She corrected him before he could finish saying her name. "My name is Hermia." She continued down the stairs.
She reached the ground floor and strode confidently into the sitting room. Ignoring the occupants of the room she strode to the hearth. She took a pinch of floo powder from the flower pot on the mantle and tossed it into the flames, causing them to flash a bright green. She said a silent prayer of thanks that Arthur had gotten Nate and Lizzie's house hooked to the network yesterday at work. It would make her escape so much quicker.
Wordlessly Hermia turned around and took Helena from Molly's arms and Hero from Ginny's. She smiled sadly at the family who stared at her with bewilderment.
"Thank you, everyone, for being so hospitable. I appreciate you're kindness but I think it's time I left."
"What?" Ginny and Molly both sprang up from their seats both ready to reach out and stop her.
"She's leaving." Ron's cold voice filled the room, stopping Molly and Ginny in their tracks and causing a chill to start at the base of Hermia's spine and quiver up her neck. "She's decided she wants nothing to do with being a witch and has decided to return to her old life."
Molly's and Ginny's mouths gapped open and Arthur rose resolvedly up from his armchair. "Hermione, dear, I fear I must object. It's far too dangerous…"
"Don't bother trying to sway her dad." Ron strode farther into the room. "Hermione is incredibly stubborn. I've tried every argument I could think of and nothing has worked. She's determined to live her life as a Muggle and put herself and our daughters in danger."
Hermia felt every word like a stab to the heart. She knew he was trying to guilt her into seeing things his way, but she wouldn't let it happen. She knew what awaited her children if she raised them as witches and it wasn't a life she wanted for them or for herself.
"You're all welcome to come and see the girls anytime you wish. You are family. However, I will not allow magic to be performed around them."
"Hermione." Harry stopped her before she could step into the emerald flames. He opened her bag just enough to slip her wand inside. "I get it, probably better then anyone here. More then you probably realize, but please don't snap this and keep it on you. Ron's right," he ignored her protests, "magic is the only way to protect yourself, and I know you don't remember any spells." He shrugged dismally. "But you might find in a dangerous situation that it might be second nature to you and it could be the difference between life and death." Hermia stared at him with wide eyes. "Will you please promise me that you will keep your wand on you at all times? Even if you don't really, it will help me sleep at night."
Hermia stared at him a moment in thought before nodding her head. "All right Harry. I'll keep it on me." Her head shook slightly. "But, I won't use it."
And with that she turned and stepped into the emerald flames and called out the address to the house that had been her home for over the past year. And with a flash of green light she disappeared from their lives again. Not bothering to look at anyone Ron apparated away, feeling alone and like a failure, knowing he should have tried longer, fought harder. When he appeared in his room he let the anger he had been fighting to suppress come to the surface and boil. His eyes caught on his favorite photo of Hermione, the one where he had her slung over his shoulder and they were both laughing happily, sitting in its silver frame on his night stand. He took it in his hand, stared at it for a moment and with a roar of pain threw it against the far wall, feeling a swell of satisfaction as the glass shattered and the frame crumbled. It would take him less then twenty minutes to demolish the rest of his room.
There was a bright flash of green light and Hermia stumbled out of the fire place and into the sitting room, nearly loosing her balance and pitching forward with Hero and Helena still in her arms.
"Hermia!"
The bushy haired girl looked up to see Nate curled up on the couch with a cup of tee arrested half way to his lips as he stared at her with surprise and astonishment. "What the Bloody Hell was that?" He set the cup aside. "How'd you get here?"
"Nate." Hermia croaked as she set the girls down and dropped her bags from her shoulders, launching herself at her friend.
Nate wrapped his arms around Hermia's shoulders and rocked her gently as tears started to flow from her eyes and soak his shirt front. "Good lord, Hermia. What happened?"
She pulled away, brushing fiercely at the wetness of her eyes. "I don't want to talk about it."
Nate gave her hand a tight squeeze. "I take it then that things didn't go very well. What, was his family a gang of arses? Your parent's weren't supportive?"
"No, no." Hermia shook her head. "Everything was fine. His family is amazing. My mum and dad are wonderful."
Nate whipped a streak of tears from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "Then why the tears?"
"It's a long story, and I really don't want to talk about it right now." She shook her head unsteadily. "I don't even know where to begin."
Nate cupped her cheek tenderly and kissed her affectionately on the lips. "Well, Lizzie's at work right now, but I know she'll be just as thrilled that your home as I am, though I do wish it was under happier circumstances." He smoothed curls out of her eyes and tucked them safely behind her ears. "The house has been very quiet and empty without you three. It's been damn near impossible finding ways to keep myself entertained."
Hermia chuckled through her tears as her focus was turned on the two little girls who were climbing up on the furniture to excitedly greet their uncle Nate.
"Hello my little witches." Nate greeted affectionately as he pressed a kiss to each of the babies cheeks.
"Don't." Hermia cried out instantly causing Nate to look at her strangely.
"What did I do wrong, Love?"
"Don't call them witches." She explained. "I'm not raising them as witches. I am going to raise them like normal children. Without magic."
Nate's black brows arched in wonder and thought. "Hermia, granted I don't know as much about this is as you do, and I'm not trying to tell you how to raise your children, but don't you think it's going to be hard to raise your children normal when they can make objects fly across the room at their whim?"
Hermia bit her lip and looked over at the two girls who had wormed their way out of his grasp and climbed down making their way to the corner where their toys were stored, pulling out dolls and blocks and the occasional cloth book. "I have to try Nate. Magic sounded wonderful in theory, but it's not how I want to raise my girls."
"If that what you decided," Nate soothed, stroking her hand, "I won't say another word about it."
"Thank you." She wrapped her arms around his waist and closed her eyes when his arms wrapped around her, drawing her near.
