I know, i know! Late update, really late. But if you paid attention to the notice i put at the bottom of my profile then you know why:). I have been swamped with exams andpersonal errands!

Well this chapter is not as long i hoped it to be, but it was a very emotional chapter, so emotional that i cried at parts. Don't ask me where all the angst comes from, i really don't know...I'm really a happy person, honest!

Also Minor HBP Spoiler!

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the plot to Harry Potter, so no need to sue me!


Coming Together Again

Chapter 4

After the emotional reunion that Hermione has shared with her friends, she felt a new light fall upon her. Ever since her parent's death two years ago, Hermione had felt empty. Losing one's parents always leaves a hole in the child's heart and identity, and for Hermione it was no different.

After the death of her father, she fell to an all time low. Not yet recovered from the shock of her mother's death she felt that her life was turning against her. She felt as if, the death of her parents was her fault. If only she went down those stairs on the eve of her mother's murder then maybe her mother would be alive, instead of six feet under. She could have protected them, she was supposed to be one of the smartest witches in her year at Hogwarts, and yet she couldn't even help her parents. She couldn't help but wonder whether it would be different if she ran down those stairs instead of her now deceased mother.

Things only became worse when she lost touch with her best friends months after her fathers funeral. She knew that she couldn't expect them to be there for her all the time, they had their own lives to deal with. She just wanted to know that they were there for her at her most time of need. They thought that they were being there for her at the funeral, but that was only the beginning of her pain.

There were times when she felt like she couldn't go on, both her parents were dead, her friends weren't in contact like they used to be and she was falling into a dark spiral of depression. No one was there to help her out of the dark hole she had fallen into, no one seemed to care.

She knew that her friends didn't leave her intentionally. She knew that they would do anything for her, would help her at her most time of need. However when she most needed them; they weren't there. They didn't see her life falling to pieces; they didn't watch her breakdowns when everything just got too much. They didn't see the pain that still stains in her eyes of the loss of her family.

The one thing that made her angry the most was that the Death Eaters who murdered her mum, were never caught. It angered her that she couldn't identify them as they stood smirking over her mother's lifeless body. It angered her that they may still be out there, destroying families, such as her own. One thing that she could never even begin to forgive is the Death Eater that said those fatal words directed straight at her mother's chest.


A crash coming from downstairs woke Hermione Granger from her sleep. Her eyes bolted open in panic, instantly fearing the worst. She reached out for her trusted wand, the very same wand that had saved her life and others on numerous occasions during the remaining years of the war against Voldermort.

She clenched her wand tightly in her fist, her fingernails digging deeply into the palm of her hand. She took several deep breaths, too calm the increasing nerves. She slowly stood up from her bed and made her way to her bedroom door. As she was about to turn the door handle, she heard an ear-piercing scream coming from the kitchen.

She instantly recognised the scream as her mothers, and without thinking pulled the door open and ran down the stairs, almost tripping over Crooksanks, who had been happily sleeping on the stairs.

As she approached the entrance to the kitchen, she saw her worst nightmare come alive. Before she could react, a Death Eater murmured those fatal words, the words that can end a person's life at the snap of a finger… "Avada Kedavra"

Hermione watched her mother's pupils dilate into nothing, as she fell to the ground, dead. The Death Eater's smirking, like her mother's death was some competition, and they won top prize.

The Death Eater's turned to face Hermione. Their white masks covered their identity. Hermione felt her knees go weak, and she toppled over onto the cold kitchen tiles. She trembled with fear, tears falling freely from her leaking eyes. She knew she was showing them weakness, but she didn't care. She knew that she was giving them the perfect opportunity for them to kill her, like they wanted to kill her in the past, but she didn't care. She also didn't care that one of the Death Eaters was pointing their wand towards her trembling form.

She felt pain, excruciating pain all over her body. She couldn't breath since it was so painful, she couldn't think because all she knew at the point was horrific pain. It felt like a thousand knifes were slashing her inside and out. It felt like boiling oil was pouring into her skin that was tearing away her flesh. It lasted a minute, and it was only then when she realised that she had been put under the cruciatus curse.

She coughed, choking on the air that she missed out on. By now, her tears had soaked her face, and had made a small puddle on the tiles. The Death Eaters smirked; feeling proud of the pain that they just inflicted. Without a second thought, they apparated out of the kitchen, never to be seen again.

Hermione choked a sob, and slowly crawled to her mother. She held her in her arms and cried, hoping and wishing that there were someway that she would wake up. She knew though, that once those fatal words were said, there was no turning back.

Hermione realised that her father was standing in the doorway with a disbelieving look on his face. He looked Hermione in the eye, hoping to see that his wife; the woman that he loved was still alive. It broke Hermione's heart when she shook her head to tell her dad, that her mum, his wife was in fact dead.

That one night changed the Granger family, from a happy household, to a downward spiral of loss and pain.


That fatal night reminded Hermione life was in fact unfair. That night reminded her of how brutal Death Eaters can be, it proved to her that they did not, and never will have a heart or a conscience.

Each day that passed was hard for Hermione after the death of her parents. Every time she stepped one foot into the kitchen, the place where so much devastation began, she would remember the sight of her mother's deceased body. The very thought of it immediately made her insides twist and she felt physically sick. After the death of her mother, she couldn't go near the kitchen for weeks, she was afraid that she may be reminded of that horrific night that already had made a permanent marking in her memory.

Due to the fact that she couldn't bare to step foot in her kitchen, her weight decreased gradually. She felt that it was time to sell her parent's house and try to move on. Living in the same house that her mother was murdered, and her father suffered that fatal heart attack was almost unbearable to her. Every room held a thousand memories of her childhood, but one room in the house stood out from the rest. The event that happened in her kitchen, the one where happy memories were once shared was tainted with that one night. The night that would haunt Hermione in her sleep, and eat at her during the day.

The death of a loved one is hard to cope with, but coping alone is one of the hardest things a person can do. For Hermione it was no different. After the news of the death of her mother arose in her family she knew that it wasn't going to go down well. How often is a relative of theirs killed by Death Eaters? Hermione knew that it was time to tell them the one thing she had been hiding from them for the past decade, that she was in fact a witch. They didn't take to kindly to it, as she expected. She didn't expect a parade when she told them, nor did they smile. She knew that they blamed her for her mother's death. Although they didn't directly say it to her, she could see it in their eyes. Their sorrow filled eyes looking at her with pain and anger told her exactly what they were thinking.

She didn't dare contact them again, in fear of what they may do or say. She hoped that they would come to an understanding that it wasn't her fault, but every time she thought that, guilt came back to haunt her. She felt responsible, and her family only made her guilt worse.

After she moved out of her childhood home, she moved into a flat near to work. It wasn't the best accommodation she would have liked, but at the time it was all she could really afford. It was a one-bedroom apartment with a small living area and kitchen with a tiny bathroom just big enough for a shower, toilet and sink. Hermione sighed when she saw the place she was going to be living in, but she just shrugged it off, 'Life sucks, deal with it'

Since her "home" didn't feel like a home to her, she spent most of her time at work. She arrived early in the morning before everyone else, and left hours after they did. She felt that if you had no one to go home to, why go home at all? Her flat was mainly used for sleeping, if she could call it that. She would usually wake up in cold sweats, having dreamt about the attack that left her mother dead. The event was like a broken record, stuck on repeat, playing the same scene in her head and when it ended, it would go back to the start and reply it again, and again and again.

It would drive her crazy; sometimes she felt like she wanted to pull her head off because the pain was that unbearable. She would suffer painful headaches every time the memory replayed itself, as if she was there again. She also felt slight pain from the Cruciatus Curse that was inflicted upon her during the attack.

Life went down hill for Hermione. She no longer paid her once weekly visit to the Weasley household, for it was too painful for her to see something that she no longer had, a family. She knew that she was accepted as a family member to them, but somehow it didn't fill her emptiness inside. She knew that Molly, Arthur and the Weasley children worried about her after hearing about the devastating news, and appreciated their concern, but she needed to be alone.

!She knew that Harry knew what she was going through, having lost his parents, Sirius and Dumblebore. She knew that he wanted to help her get through this, but she wouldn't let anyone in. The pain was too much for her to handle during the first few months after the decease of her parents.

She kept in touch with her friends, with the occasional owl but they were usually too busy with their ongoing lives to reply. She understood, she didn't want them putting their lives on hold for her, no that would be selfish. However she couldn't help but feel slight anger towards them for not being there for her as much as she needed. Sure she said she wanted to be alone, but if they had been more observant they would have seen a friend in desperate need for some comforting. She knew that she was partly to blame for losing contact with her friends. She changed after the tragedy that left her alone in the world that she forgot she had friends and another illegitimate family who cared for her deeply. As they say, a child losing their parents, is also like losing their identity.

She wanted more, she needed more, and she deserved more. She wanted so much for Ron and Harry to walk though those tatty old doors and rescue her from the mess she was in, but they didn't. No one did. No one helped her recover and move on from her parent's death. Although, you can't truly move on, can you?

Hermione felt lost in her own thoughts as she replayed the events in her mind. Surely she knew it wasn't healthy, that she was setting herself up for a complete breakdown? Hermione didn't care what she was doing to her state of mind, for all she wanted was to have her parents and friends back in her life once more. She knew that bringing her parents back from the dead was an impossible task, even the most powerful witches and wizards wouldn't be able to perform the inevitable. Hermione just had to face the fact that her parents were never coming back.

To make matters worse, the Death Eaters that destroyed her very lively hood were not caught, and still roam free to this day. Hermione feared that they may come back for her to finish what they intended to do. She had no doubts that the attack was meant for her; after all it would make logical sense. She helped defeat the Dark Lord, and was best friends with the boy who ended the misery that bestowed upon the magical community that ran over decades. It would make perfect revenge to see that one of his friends die and the hands of Death Eaters, but instead of a quick death like her mothers, the type of death that she was experiencing was eating her insides. Memories rotting in her brain and her heart slowly crumbling and fading into nothing.

Hermione spent endless nights thinking about what her life would be like if she hadn't received her letter for Hogwarts. She never regretted finding out that she was a witch, or regretted going to Hogwarts, nor did she regret making the best of friends. She just wondered what her life would be like if she hadn't in fact been a witch. Would her parents still be alive? Would she be happy, like she was in he Hogwarts days? Would she have made such fantastic friends like Ron, Harry and Ginny? The answer to that would be unsure, as she never got to experience life growing up as a normal teenager.

All those nights thinking about the "What ifs" made her realise that she did have something worth living and fighting for, Her friends. Her friends who have been there for her since day one, and although they weren't there for her in person, she knew that they would be there for her in spirit. She just needed to find an easy way of believing that.

When Ron came knocking on her office door earlier that day, all pain just seemed to disappear, only to return again after hearing what brought him there. She knew that she would soon be in danger if that cruel man got his way, and that terrified her. She had no idea of the plans this man had install for muggle-borns, but she knew it wouldn't be pleasant. He was, from the description Ron had given her, a monster.

And she was determined to stop him at all costs.


Sorry if this chapter depressed you a little, it depressed me when i was writing it. But i hope you liked it none the less.

Anyone care to guess what the evil dictator is planning?

Review and let me know what you think:)

(Hands out cookies and cake)

Helen:)X