Chapter 18
And Just Like That...I was a Muggle

The following morning, I practically staggered downstairs from my dorm room. When I got to the Common Room, everyone else had already headed down to breakfast. No one had even come up to see if I was okay. Maybe, my roomies were scared to rouse me. I had spent the whole night awash in fits of tears. I did not know anyone could cry that much without becoming mummified.

As I passed the central table, I saw several copies of The Daily Prophet scattered about. Below the banner, a gigantic headline filled the entire page.

DUMBLEDORE

LAID TO REST

I collapsed face-first on a couch. "How can we go on?" I sobbed, as tears I could not imagine still possible poured out of me. "How can we defeat Voldemort without Dumbledore to lead us?"

The tears flowed for several minutes before I regained my composure. Finally, I stood up and started toward the exit.

I felt bad and knew I looked worse as I descended the stairs. I was the personification of a sandwich constructed from the two stale heels of a loaf of bread. Between them was some coarsely flaked, light tuna seasoned with a shadow of mayonnaise, the rumor of mustard, and some mostly missing-in-action onion, celery, and relish lying on a flaccid leaf of lettuce with a small bowl of anemic, tomato soup in want of some non-existent crackers sitting next to it.

"I need some food—food and a copious quantity of coffee," I thought. " Maybe that will help."

I dragged myself the rest of the way down the spiral of stairs. Once I arrived at my regular spot at the Gryffindor tables, everyone was respectfully quiet as I put a scoop of oatmeal in a bowl and added some raisins, brown sugar, and cream. I think many of them were feeling almost as devastated as I was by Dumbledore's sudden death and funeral. The only comment was a restrained 'Bloody hell,' from Ron as I filled a huge mug with straight-up black coffee instead of filling my usual, smaller cup with two lumps of sugar and a splash of cream followed by some Yorkshire tea.

"Are you alright?" he asked as I looked at him through my bloodshot eyes.

"No. But I'll be okay," I squeezed out as he reached across the table and put his hand on mine. Normally, my heart would be doing flip-flops if he did this. Today, I was simply thankful for the contact and concern.

"We can get together a little later," he said. "Harry and I have something to do. When we get back, we can hang out—talk and stuff. You know."

A moment later, Harry, Ron, and a few others got up and left. Suddenly, I was alone, left to finish my oatmeal, a buttered crumpet with some blackberry jam, and a pair of slices of streaky bacon.

All of a sudden, a voice I recognized pried its way into my ears. It said, "Hello, Hermione Granger, Are you feeling alright?" The voice belonged to Luna Lovegood.

"No. I feel terrible?" I responded.

"I feel poorly, as well. Dumbledore's death is horrible," she said as she sat down a cup of tea and placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Yes. Horrible."

"But I think you have other troubles, too," she said in typical Luna fashion.

"I do?" I asked in a puzzled voice. "What other trouble are you referring to?"

"Oh—I'm not certain," she replied "I have just been thinking you have looked a bit troubled lately. Your mind is probably full of conflict. I believe that there is something that you need to see. It might help relax your mind."

"And what is that, if I may ask?"

"It's hard to explain. I think it is best that you follow me so I can show it to you."

"Okay," I said reluctantly. I was quietly hoping it was not going to be a Crumple-Horned Snorkack track or a Nargle nest. I had fallen for things like that in the past with Luna. However, for some reason that I could not put a finger on, I felt strangely different about this request. If nothing else, it might distract me from thinking about the future without Dumbledore.

As we got up to begin walking, she opened a bag. "Here, have a biscuit," she said as she held out the bag. I was still a bit peckish, so I took one.

"Ummmm," I said as I devoured it. "That is really quite tasty. What kind of biscuit is it?"

"I call them Vision Biscuits," she replied, as she picked up the tea cup, and handed it to me to help wash down my last bites. I took it and had a drink.

"That's a strange name for a biscuit," I said, somehow not surprised. I thought calling them Snorkack or Nargle Biscuits would have more expected from her. "What's in them?"

"Just regular biscuit stuff—quick oats, flour, butter, an egg, some spices, and orange candy slices. I love orange candy slices. Oh—and some mescaline, too," she replied as we started walking.

"Did you say these biscuits have—mescaline in them," I asked, my eyes widening as I finished the last couple of swallows of my tea. I suddenly started feeling very apprehensive about what I had just eaten. "I've read about that. It's a hallucinogenic drug used by muggles."

"Yes. It's in peyote. The Native Americans of the Southwest use it to go on Vision Quests. That's why I call them Vision Biscuits. But don't worry. I have eaten them several times. I find them quite interesting and enlightening. I think you will like them, too."

"What about the tea? That was just normal tea—wasn't it? It did taste a little different." I asked, now fearing the answer as I sat down my cup.

"It's just the breakfast tea from the dining hall—" she replied with a pause, giving me a momentary sense of relief. "But I added some Psilocybin and Ayahuasca to it."

"Psilocybin? Is that another drug?"

"Yes. It comes from mushrooms. We gather them on our compost heap and around where our animals graze. It works well with mescaline."

"And—and what about the other thing—I think you called it Ayahuasca?

"My father gets it from a guy who comes here from Brazil. The native people of the Amazon use it in spiritual ceremonies," she said matter-of-factly. "Come along. We need to get upstairs."

I followed her up several flights of stairs and through a hallway. My mind was spinning. " What have I just eaten?" What did I drink ?" I thought as a panicky charge ran through the pit of my stomach. " What's going to happen to me? Should I go to the infirmary? No, I cannot do that. I would probably get Luna expelled. I should have known better than to accept things from her without asking. "

"Where are we going?" I asked

"To a quiet place that I found upstairs where you can enjoy the effects of the tea and biscuits. It is a great place to relax and explore your thoughts."

We ended up on the seventh floor. She opened the doors of a room I had never before seen. We entered to find a pair of large, comfortable chairs near a fountain of babbling water. All around us were lush trees and bushes with birds and butterflies flittering about. Above us, there were fluffy clouds and a bright sun that I assumed to be an illusion.

"Sit down," said Luna with a smile. "You need to clear your mind."

"Why have you given me those drugs?" I asked in a serious voice. "I find that very disturbing and frightening."

"You've been acting strange lately. I want to help you sort out your thoughts—"

"By giving me illegal drugs?" I huffed, remembering my interludes with Seamus and MacGuffin. Even though that turned out mostly well, considering that I got caught masturbating the first time and had exposed myself to some people I barely knew the second and third time, I knew this was more serious.

"Don't worry," she said, trying to sound reassuring. "I didn't take any. I am here to be your guide. Close your eyes and count to one hundred. I always find that to be a most productive opening exercise."

What could I do? It was too late. There was no turning back. I had to see this through. I started counting, "One, two, three—thirty-five, thirty-six—sixty-four, sixty-five—". As I said 'seventy-nine, a strange, almost euphoric wave washed over me. I saw a kaleidoscope of colors whirling in front of my closed eyes. " Ooo, pretty. Uh—uh—what's happening? " I thought. When I finally made it to one hundred, I opened my eyes. Luna was gone. In her place was a very large hare with long fur the color of Luna's hair and large, silvery-blue eyes.

"Hello, Hermione Granger said the hare in a pleasant voice that reminded me of Luna's. It caused me to flinch. I had never seen a talking hare before. Oddly, its size, dirty blonde fur, and big eyes did not seem unusual. "Please follow me. Someone is waiting for you."

"Okay," I replied as I got up and followed without question. The trees, water, everything was gone. In its place, we were surrounded by a dense, ghostly haze.

The amazing songs of unseen birds—perhaps a choir of Phoenixes—filled the air. The air was scented with out-of-season flowers—lilacs, wisteria, hyacinth, gardenias, and roses—a rainbow of uncountable roses was lining our way. Each rose was a brilliant, perfect blossom from an endless palette of colors and color combinations, each one so incredibly gorgeous that it eclipsed all of the others.

A few moments later, the ethereal form of Professor Dumbledore materialized in front of us. His radiant robe was a rich, translucent red so resplendent that it was like I was looking through a spectacular ruby secured by ribbons of 24-carat gold fit for the crown of the queen, herself.

"Ah. Miss Granger," he said in his customary, calm voice. "I've been expecting you. Let's walk."

I looked over at the hare. However, it was already hopping away. Left with no choice, I started following the professor as he walked deeper into the other-worldly fog.

"Where are we, Professor?" I asked.

"Where, indeed?" he replied. "This is your journey."

"Am I in a dream, or is this reality?"

"Why can't it be both?" he replied paradoxically

"I don't know. Is that even possible?"

"So, which do you believe it is?"

It seems to feel like a dream but I think it is real," I said, looking around, trying to make sense of the surroundings.

"Do you think dreams can be real?"

"I don't know—maybe."

"But then—after all—what is reality?" asked the ethereal professor?"

"I don't know, professor. I have never tried to put it into words. I have always just thought of it as whatever is around me," I replied, trying to come up with something that seemed to make some amount of sense. "What do you believe it to be?"

"I like to think of it as the collection of lies we choose to believe to make what we call sense of things," he said as he stroked his beard.

"You're saying I believe in lies, sir?" I asked incredulously.

"We all do, Miss Granger. We all use our personal paradigms to grasp things with our minds in order to create that which we believe or wish to be true."

"But, isn't there only one reality? Isn't mine, yours, Ron's, and Harry's, everyone's all the same?"

"I think that depends on what you believe. I tend to think my reality and Voldemort's, for example, are quite different."

"Then, where do we go from here, Professor?"

"That is indeed a good question, Miss Granger. This is your journey," said Dumbledore. "Why don't you wait on that couch while I go to the loo? Then, we can sort out your path when I return."

I looked over and saw a couch that I had not noticed earlier. " That seems a bit odd, " I thought. " I never considered whether or not ghosts needed to occasionally use the loo. "

"Suddenly, I asked Dumbledore for directions to the loo. My stomach and bowls were upset. I had an urgent need for it.

"Follow me," replied the professor.

I returned from the loo feeling better a few moments later. The professor was nowhere to be seen. As I sat down on the couch, I noticed several pieces of reading material on the table in front of me. There was a copy of The Daily Prophet, a Quibbler, three separate editions of Witch Weekly, a well-used copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, and a truly imposing and ponderous tome titled 'Journey to the West' by Wu Cheng'en.

" Which one should I look at? " I asked myself as if a shred of doubt clouded my mind concerning my impending decision.

A moment passed. Then, I said 'Accio' as I pointed my wand at the giant, elderly volume. It landed in my lap with the weight of an erumpent. This caused me to let out a gasping exhale filled with "Merlin's pants!"

I opened the book and made short work of the Introduction, scholarly discussion, and dedication. I started to enthusiastically jump into Chapter 1. It read: " There was a rock that since the creation of the world had been worked upon by the pure essence of Heaven and fine savours of Earth, the vigour of sunshine and the grace of moonlight, till at last it became magically pregnant and one day split open, giving birth to a stone egg, about as big as a playing ball. Fructified by the wind it developed into a stone monkey, complete with every organ and limb— "

I quickly fell into the infamous reading zone that so often consumes me. The notion I was simply waiting for Dumbledore to return from the loo at any moment was lost to me. I was ready to read the book in its entirety.

Two thousand three hundred forty-six pages later, nearly half of a million words, I closed the book. I took a breath as I looked up. Dumbledore was walking in my direction.

"I'm sorry to have taken so long," he said as he stopped in front of me. "I met an old acquaintance and we got lost over a couple of large brandies in a most fascinating conversation about woolen socks."

"It's perfectly okay, sir," I replied as I placed the book back on the table with a heavy thunk worthy of its prodigious heft. "I was just reading this strange but interesting book."

"Journey to the West. I've heard of that," he said. "What is it about?"

"It chronicles a trip on foot from China to India about fifteen hundred years ago by a Buddhist monk named Hsuan Tsang and his companions. It is full of ghosts, dragons, monsters, gods, spirits, animals, and men."

"Ah. So it is a travel adventure story."

"Yes—well—yes and no," I said, trying to gather my thoughts and turn them into words. "It's—uh—it's about the trip, of course, but I think the main idea is philosophical. It always came down to learning to tame—uh—calm your monkey mind."

"Your monkey mind? Fascinating. I have never heard that term. So, just how does one do that, Miss Granger?"

"Your monkey mind is the part of your mind that creates unsettled, restless, or confused thoughts. It stifles problem-solving and creativity. It prevents you from moving forward with your goals and passions. Your monkey mind insists on being heard to the detriment of productive thought. Calming it involves focusing, meditating, and relaxed breathing. You are trying to get out of your own way so your inner mind can function without distraction."

"Astounding. I must find time to read this, then," said Dumbledore. "But alas, I think we must be moving onward."

I got up and dashed off to the loo, again. When I got back, we started strolling forward. After a minute, I said, "Look, Professor" as I pointed at the wall. Walking over, I pulled a book from a break in the wall where it had been carefully placed.*

"What have you there, Miss Granger?"

"It's a book, Professor," I replied. "It is called—uh— 'Apology' by someone named Plato."

"Ah, yes," he said. "I know of him. He was a Greek philosopher from long, long ago. He is considered one of the great thinkers of all time."

"Then, I must read it," I replied.

"Excellent," said Dumbledore. "I see a candy shop across the way. Why don't you sit down and I will go see if they have Sherbet Lemon Drops? I do love them, you know."

As soon as he turned away, I sat down and started reading. Once again, I became lost in my world of words. It was not until I finished the book and looked up that I saw him returning.

"That is a truly fascinating shop," he said as he stopped and held a bag open in front of me. "Not only did they have Sherbet Lemons but they had Sherbets in many other flavors. I felt compelled to try them all. I bought orange, mandarin, cherry, mango, pear, strawberry, and raspberry flavors. Please help yourself."

I looked into the bag. The colors of the candies were unimaginably brilliant. They looked like the most precious of jewels. I took a mango-flavored one and popped it into my mouth. Its combination of sweet and sour flavors was more delicious–almost impossibly more delicious–than anything I had ever tasted.

"Did you read any of your new book?" asked Dumbledore.

"Yes, sir," I replied. "Actually, I read all of it."

"And what was it about? What did you learn?"

"First, it's not an apology in the way we think of one. It is more of a justification of the speech a man named Socrates made during his trial for impiety and the corruption of the youth of Athens. He was trying to show that Socrates, not his accusers, was the honest, forthright person in the trial."

"Intriguing," said Dumbledore as he placed another candy in his mouth. "How did it work?"

"Not very well for Socrates," I replied. "He was convicted and made to drink hemlock tea."

"Hemlock, you say. That probably killed him in a very short time. Along with Belladonna, it is one of the most poisonous plants in the world."

"Yes. Not an enviable end," I said, shaking my head. "However, he did say one thing I found particularly interesting before his sentencing. I believe I need to rethink my entire thought process because of it."

"And what is that, Miss Granger?"

"To paraphrase Plato, Socrates said in rebuke of the words of his accusers something to the effect of himself being the wisest man in the world because he knew only one thing—that he knew nothing at all. It goes contrary to most of the way I think. I found it very unsettling."

"That is a very provocative statement. There is a lot to contemplate with it."

"Professor Snape once called me an incessant know-it-all. Perhaps, I should strive to be more of a 'know nothing'. I said with a pair of air quotes.

"An interesting proposal to say the least."

We started walking, again. After a few minutes. Professor Dumbledore said, "I believe I see someone sitting on a bench in front of us. I wonder if they are waiting for you?"

When we got there, we found the same hare that had left me with the professor early. "We must get going," it said. "You're going to be late for returning to you."

"That's nice," I replied, "Let me go to the loo first."

"Of course," said the hare.

When I returned, the hare was gone. I sat down on the bench to wait for her. Before long, I nodded off. Sometime later, I woke up, I was in the big, comfortable chair. Luna was sitting beside me in her chair with a cheerful smile.

"I'm sorry. I must have fallen asleep for a moment. Where's the hare? I asked "And—and Dumbledore? They were here a moment ago."

"Oh," replied Luna. "They had to leave. Did you have a nice trip?"

"Trip?" I asked.

"Yes. Your vision quest. Was it enjoyable? Did it help you with your troubles?"

"I met a hare that reminded me of you. Then Dumbledore and I took a long walk and I read some very fascinating books. It left me with a lot to consider."

"That's nice. It sounds very informative. But look at the time. Now that you are you again, we should leave here. If we don't, we will miss lunch."

"Wonderful," I said. "I feel like I have not eaten in a long time."

When we arrived in the dining hall, Harry, Ron, and Ginny nearly tackled us.

"Where the bloody hell have you been?" asked Ron in an oddly angry voice. "The whole school has been looking for you."

"We took a trip," said Luna before I could answer. "Hermione had to see a few things."

"Well, the next time you're going to disappear, you should bloody well tell someone."

"Why are you so upset, Ronald? And why would the whole school be looking for me?" I asked, completely confused by what I saw as a clear overreaction to our absence.

"Classes are all canceled because of you," he replied.

"Why? We have only been gone since after breakfast."

"Since after breakfast!" barked Ron as Harry and Ginny stood by letting Ron explode at me. "After bleedin' breakfast! After breakfast yesterday!"

"Wha—" I started before my mind froze and a dizziness engulfed me that nearly made me pass out. Then, it registered. The little trip Luna took me on had lasted over a day. I was speechless.

"I'm sorry," said Luna, stepping in for me. "I am responsible. I took Hermione on a trip. I should have told you we were going."

It took another hour of talking, eating, and drinking to settle things. I am ashamed to say I failed to realize why Ron was the one who went off while the others stood back. If I had picked up on it, I would have thrown myself in his arms and begged his forgiveness. But, alas, I did not until the moment was too far passed.

Another hour later, Luna and I were in McGonagall's office. She was the headmistress. She was lenient on us, probably improperly so, because of the situation with Dumbledore. She took ten points from both of our houses and gave us detention monitored by Professor Flitwick after reading us the riot act for being so irresponsible in light of current events. The detention served to give me time to mull over the lessons of my trip.

I had also given a lot of thought to the future during my detention. I thought about the possibility that Voldemort would come for the school in earnest. This situation, as tragic as it was, was just a taste of what could happen during a real, full-on attack. People would die, lots of people in all likelihood. And if he did attack the school, Harry would be his number one target. Ron and I would not be very far down the list of those marked for death. This caused me to start fretting about dying without ever expressing my true feelings to Ron, to never kiss him, and possibly more, to die unfulfilled. It was causing me a growing amount of anxiety.

On 3 July, Harry and Ginny had broken up without explanation. I had always questioned the longevity of their relationship. However, this seemed far more premature than I envisioned their end.

School would be finished in a few days. We were in the middle of testing. However, I made a decision the next day during dinner. I could no longer wait for Ron to step up. I knew he had feelings for me after his unconscious, near-death experience confession. It was a case of solving the enduring puzzle of how to get him to step up and act on them. I was not going to face the end of my life without saying something. I wanted my kiss. I wanted our relationship. And, if it was going to take me doing the stepping up, I was finally ready to do it.

"Ron," I said, taking a deep breath. This was it. I did not dare wait. If I did, I would never do it. "Can we talk about—uh—something?"

"Sure. What is it? We kind of need to talk. I have something I want to say to you, too."

"It—it's kind of private. We need to do it away from everyone."

"Okay. Let's go out in the courtyard. There are loads of benches. Probably won't be anyone out there except for a couple of snoggers—and they'll be too busy to want to listen to us."

"Brilliant," I said as I stood up. "Let's go outside."

We made our way out of the dining hall and into the courtyard. I walked over to a bench under a tree in the furthest corner. It should give us all the privacy we need for what I hoped would be the best, most important moment of my life.

My mind was running a million miles an hour rehearsing what I was going to say. I sat down. Ron sat down next to me. The moment was here. I felt like a beehive was buzzing inside me. " Don't blow it, Granger, " I said to myself. " Calm your monkey brain. "

"What did you want to ask me?" I said in a moment of weakness.

"You go first," he replied. "Mine can wait for a moment."

"Okay—uh—I want—I need to tell you that I am crazy in love with my—my best friend, and—I—I—I have been for some time. And with the situation we are in, you need to know that. I want us to be together forever."

I cannot believe I got it out with only the slightest amount of blithering—but I got it out. I looked into Ron's eyes, waiting for his response.

Ron's expression was hard to read. It looked like an intersection of 'Ohmigawd' and 'What the Hell?'. I was confused and dying as I waited.

"Uh—uh—uh," he finally sputtered. "That—that's impossible. Your best friend doesn't love you. He's in love with someone else."

"NO! NO!" I screamed as Ron drove the Sword of Gryffindor through my heart. "NO!"

"I thought you knew." He said.

Tears started erupting from my eyes. I felt ill. I had to get out of there. I jumped up and started running. After all of this, he had rejected me. What about the confession after he had been poisoned?

I ran into the castle. I did not know where I was going—maybe up the stairs to fling myself off the Astronomy Tower.

Finally, I started up the stairs to my dorm room. I had to get out of here. I was going to leave the school. I was going to find out the location of my parents. I was going to move home and become a muggle. My life as a witch was over.

The room was empty when I got there. I packed everything I owned into my beaded bag. I was going to get on the train in the morning and go to the Ministry in London. I would talk to Kingsley Shacklebolt. He was in the Order. I was certain he knew the location of my parents.

I laid down and cried myself to sleep. My roommates must have been respectful. I did not wake up until sunrise. I quietly dressed and slipped out of the dormitory for the very last time.

There was tea and coffee in the dining hall. I drank two cups of tea before food appeared on the table for the early bird eaters.

People were starting to flow in as I finished. I got up to head to the train station before too many arrived. The train left at 11:00 am. I had plenty of time, but I just wanted to go. I was barely able to hold back the tears.

As I entered the entry hall on my way out of the castle, I saw Harry kissing Ginny. Then I saw Ron looking at me. I started to dash away when I saw Pansy walking alone. I ran over to her and smiled at her and she smiled back.

"Where are you going in such a hurry," she asked.

"I'm leaving the school forever," I said as tears started streaming down my cheeks. "You have been a great friend. I will never forget you. I love you."

Then, I grabbed her in a tight embrace and kissed her. I did not care who saw me. When we broke apart, I started running. Tears were flowing off my face as I looked back at the castle one last time.

When I got to the station, I boarded the train and sealed myself in a compartment. The train was always empty on weekdays. I did not have to worry about anyone wanting to join me. All I had to do was wait for it to depart.

I slowly regained my composure. I thought about reading to distract myself. But what was the use? All of the books in my bag were about magical things. They were no longer of use to me. I should have cleaned them out before I left. After about an hour, the whistle blew and the train lurched into motion. This caused a new wave of emotion to overwhelm me. "Goodbye Hogwarts. Goodbye friends. Goodbye Witch Hermione," I sobbed. "Six years of my life for naught. I should have told Professor Sinistra no thank you clear back when I was eleven."

Nine hours later, the train pulled into King's Cross Station. It was too late to go to the Ministry. I headed to the Leaky Cauldron. I got dinner and a room for the night. It brought back fond memories. I would go to the Ministry in the morning. I went to bed early. Tomorrow was going to be a big day—a bittersweet day—but a big day. On the one hand, I was going to seal the deal on no longer being a witch, but on the other hand I was going to find the location of my parents and be on my way to see them.

I got up at 7:00 am. After breakfast, I headed off to the Ministry. I used my muggle money to enter via the visitor's entrance. Kingsley was the new Minister for Magic. I walked to his office at the far end of the ground floor. His receptionist, Providence Cedarwood, asked if she could assist me. I told her my name and asked to speak with the Minister. She asked if I had an appointment. I told her I did not, but that I was a friend, and that he would be happy to see me.

Providence got up and disappeared through a door. She returned a few minutes later. She said the Minister was in a meeting, but he was anxious to see me. She led me to the lounge and ordered me a cappuccino and a scone. Someone would come to collect me when the Minister was free.

Most of an hour passed before a handsome, young man with a name tag saying Robustus walked up to my table. "The Minister is ready to see you," he said. I was about to make a huge request. The Order had gone to great lengths to hide my parents safely away. I was going to ask Kingsley to unseal their location and let me go to them.

I followed him back to the office. Providence opened Kingsley's door and I stepped in.

"Hermione," he exclaimed in a big, boisterous voice. "It is good to see you. What brings you here? Shouldn't you be in school?"

"Minister," I said, taking a deep breath. "I am going to ask you a huge favor. You and the Order went through a lot of effort to move my parents to a secret location, so I am not asking this lightly. Personal things have occurred at the school. I am leaving. I no longer want to be a witch. I want to know the location of my parents so I can disappear and can go live life as a muggle with them."

Kingsley sat back down behind his desk. What had started as a cheerful reunion between two friends had fallen off a cliff. He looked at a loss for words.

A couple of moments went by. Finally, Kingsley said, "Are you certain about this? This is not a small request. Have you given this plenty of thought? This is a major risk."

"I am certain, sir," I replied as tears started pouring out of my eyes. "I do not want to be a witch any longer. I want to be a muggle. I want to be with my Mommy and Daddy."

Kingsley sat quietly for a couple of minutes. Then, he got up and went to a cabinet. He pulled out a key and showed it to me. "This is a key to a vault in Gringotts. It has what you need inside. Think hard before you use it. Coming back will be almost impossible."

I reached out and took the key. "I have made my decision," I said, wiping my tears on my sleeve. "I am going home."

"If you are certain, then I need you to do one thing."

"Anything, sir," I replied.

"Take out your wand," he said.

"Are you going to take it from me," I asked, a cold shiver running up my spine.

"No, but you will need to bury it away after you return home. You will have to become one hundred percent a muggle. Ninety-nine percent will be a recipe for trouble."

"I understand, sir," I said as I pulled out my wand.

"You need to Obliviate me," said the Minister.

"Obliviate you?" I responded, not sure I heard what I thought I heard.

"Obliviate me so I will not remember this meeting, what took place, and you even being here. It is the only way to protect both of us."

I took a deep breath. This might be the last time I performed magic. "Obliviate," I said as I twisted my wand while passing along the instructions to forget things. A green light hit the Minister in the face. His eyes glazed over as he sat back. When I finished, I turned and walked away.

I left the Ministry and headed straight back to the Leaky Cauldron. With a few taps of my wand, I entered Diagon Alley. I could see Gringotts straight ahead. I resisted the urge to get some ice cream, candy, or other things. I walked straight to the bank and went inside. The goblin at the vaults gave me a stern look as I presented the key and asked to enter my vault. He summoned a goblin named Griphook to assist me.

We went deep into the vaults on their tramway. When we stopped, Griphook said, "Vault 709."

Griphook inserted the key in a hole and ran his claw-like finger up the center of the door. There was a lot of clicking, clunking, and thumps, then the door opened. Inside, I found a table with an envelope. I opened it. The message read:

The item on the back table is a one-way portkey.

You must say the name of the item at the other end.

If you speak the truth, the portkey will fill itself with tea.

Hold it tightly when you exit the bank, and take a drink.

It will take you to your destination.

I walked to the back table. There was a large, sturdy drinking mug on it. I picked it up and said, "My parents—Charles and Monica Granger". The cup filled itself with steaming, hot tea. I walked out of the vault and followed Griphook back onto the tram. Once we made it back to the lobby, I headed for the door. I had my bag pulled tightly against my side. I hugged Crookshanks as I stepped back into the street and took the biggest breath of my life. This was it. Witch Hermione was to be no more. I was going home.

I raised the cup and took a sip. There was a whoosh and I felt the unpleasantness of the portkey hook pulling me. I was on the way to my new life.

It took a minute to focus my eyes, however quickly determined I was headed west. Before long, I saw the coast of England disappear behind me. I gripped the mug tightly as I sailed out over the Atlantic. I did not want to inadvertently plummet into the sea.

After a while, I started getting sleepy. I stuffed the mug into my bag as Crookshanks clung to me like the tentacles of a Snarfalump plant. I could not risk losing my grip if I fell asleep. A few moments later, I performed an amazing feat. I managed to lower my pants and relieve myself at a zillion miles per hour ten thousand feet over the ocean without getting it all over me. I was impressed.

A short while later, I nodded off. When I woke up, I saw the coast of presumably North America coming into view. Crookshanks was purring in my ear as it got closer and closer.

The portkey sailed over a beautiful coastline and across a long stretch of mountains laced with lakes and rivers. I was guessing I was in Canada. Sometime later, I started out over another vast body of water. Was it the Pacific Ocean? Where was I headed—China?"

However, it was not the Pacific. The other side came into view far too soon. Then, the portkey started to descend. An hour later, the portkey deposited me by a tree in the parking lot of a building. The sign said Dahlquist Dental.

" I wonder where I am. Is this my parents' business? Is my name going to be Dahlquist from now on? Hermione Dahlquist? I guess it could be worse. "

I walked around to the front of the building. The sign said Open 9-5 M-F & 9-3 Sat. A clock on the bank across the street said Monday, July 7, 2:48 pm. I did not want to walk in and disturb their business. I started down the street to find a coffee shop before I realized I did not have any muggle money. I thought about digging out my wand and conjuring some. However, I was a muggle now. I resisted the temptation.

There was a small park with a couple of benches just down the block. I sat down to wait until 5:00 pm. Then, if everything happened the way I hoped. I would be reunited with my parents.

Eventually, the clock on the bank said 4:58 pm. I got up and walked to the front of the building. About five minutes later, a lady came out with a bag full of the stuff you usually get at the end of an appointment. A few minutes later, two more ladies came out. One of them was wearing a uniform like you would expect of a hygienist. " They must be the staff, " I thought.

Five minutes later, my parents walked out the door. I was so excited I was shaking, but my feet would not move. Mom was the first to recognize me. "Hermione!" she screamed as she started running down the stairs. How are you here? I never thought I would see you again."

"Mommy! Daddy!" I squealed as my Mom engulfed me in tearful hugs and kisses. After a minute, Mom stepped back and my Dad gave me a big hug and kiss.

"Where are we?" I asked, finally stopping my tears.

"Cadillac, Michigan in the United States," said Mom.

"Let's go home," said Dad. "We can talk about everything once we get there."

Dad opened the door of a sporty, metallic-blue car called a Grand AM. We got in and pulled out of the parking lot.

Notes:

In real life, Emma Watson enjoys hiding book in odd places in the New York and London subways. She hope people find them, read them, and pass them on as a way to encourage reading.