Hermione looked at her list. Three were already crossed off, and if there was any destined time for the third one to go, it was definitely now. She hated herself for this, for allowing three things of that list to be crossed out. Hermione had made a promise to herself, and she had broken it. That was the worst type of promise to break; one to yourself.
Hermione had just arrived at the front of her parent’s house. She promised to visit, and while she had spent a few days at Hogwarts for Easter Break, she felt that her parents deserved at least a day with her also. She was here to see her mum and dad, whom she had sorely missed, but couldn’t really see.
To see them was to endanger them, to let them know what was going on was basically sentencing them to death. Hermione stared down at her faithful list again, the single piece of parchment she always carried around. Three rules were crossed off. She had already done three things she had promised herself she would never do. Would she do a fourth?
5 Simple Rules
Rule #1: Never be ignorant to something obvious
Rule #2: Never turn away from the truth
Rule #3: Never stab a friend in the back
Rule #4: Never let the family know
Rule #5: Never fall for one of them
Folding up the parchment and tucking it away safely, Hermione took a deep breath and faced the door. Then she knocked once, twice and a third time. Bracing herself for entrance, Hermione put a smile on her face and waited patiently for someone to answer the knocking.
The door opened a crack and you could hear someone from inside talking to the person answering the door. But whoever answered the door didn’t pay much attention at all. Instead, they threw the door wide open to greet their visitor.
Helen Granger’s mouth dropped in shock.
A second later, the woman’s partner had come to see what the fuss was about.
Menelaus Granger’s eyeballs nearly popped out.
--
“Hermione, dear! We’re so happy you’ve come back for Easter,” Helen Granger gushed, hugging her daughter tightly. Hermione had actually come home for a break, which she hadn’t done for a while. The truth was, staying at Hogwarts was just safer, for everyone.
“Me too, mum,” Hermione mumbled, letting go of her mother and moving on to her father. She had stayed at her beloved school for Christmas, but just couldn’t say no to her parents’ begging.
“Hermione, it’s been too long. We want to be involved in your life, both magical and non-magical. We want to know what’s going on in your world we want to be included. We don’t want to be closed out of our little girl’s life. Tell us sweetie, what’s going on in your world?” her father, began.
Hermione closed her eyes and grimaced inwardly. Rule #4: Never let the family know. She was already regretting coming back; Hermione knew what she would have to face. Lying to her parents. Even if it was to protect them, it didn’t make the act any more right. And it certainly didn’t make Hermione feel less guilty about what she had to do.
“Menelaus! Don’t cramp her… although we would love to know how school has been going, and what of the magical world?” her mother continued, taking a seat. Her father and Hermione followed suit.
“Oh nothing much, really. It’s nothing exciting. I’d much rather hear how everything has been with you,” Hermione tried to weasel her way out, but to no avail. Her mother was persistent Hermione would give her that.
“Nonsense, Hermione! How are those boys, Harry and Ron? Getting into normal, teenage boy mischief?” her father asked interestedly.
Both her parents knew about Harry and Ron, but not in great detail. They knew that Harry lived with his mother’s sister and her family, because his parents were dead. They knew he had black hair, green eyes and a lightning bolt scar. They knew he was very brave, very loyal. And they also knew that Ron had an exceedingly large family, a father obsessed with muggle items, a traditional Weasley appearance of red hair and freckles. They knew he liked to joke and laugh. They knew both of her boys liked Quidditch, the Wizard sport that Hermione had spent hours explaining. But they didn’t know what Ron and Harry had to go through, what anyone at Hogwarts really had to go through.
“Oh, Harry and Ron are both fine,” Hermione lied through her teeth. Hermione knew what she should have said: They haven’t been doing much at all, except for battling Dark Lords, saving the world and generally doing things no 16 year old boys should be doing. But telling her parents that would ruin everything Hermione had worked for.
“Hermione, we want to know these things. We feel like there is a part of you that we no longer know, and we don’t like it. We don’t like this rift that magic has brought between us,” her mother began worriedly.
“Oh, mum! Nothing has change-” Hermione began uncomfortably, but her sentence was never finished.
BANG!
--
“My, my, my… if it isn’t Mudblood Granger, ever-so-faithful sidekick to Potter. How lovely to see you accompanying the filth you call family. They’re tainted by you… and now they will die so much sooner than they would have, because of you. What a pity,” an icy voice hissed from amid the ruins that used to be her house.
Voldemort was here.
“Go to hell; you and your idealistic plans and your own twisted family of murderers. You’ll never win,” Hermione yelled back defiantly, desperately inching forward to get in front of her confused parents. Their house was now roofless and there was major damage to the framework.
Voldemort was standing next to a crumbling wall; his red eyes piercing Hermione’s brown ones. Hermione was terrified, no two ways about it. But she had to be strong, for her parents. Hermione kept Voldemort’s gaze for a second, before she felt someone probing her mind. Remembering the rules of Occlumency, she immediately looked down. But Hermione guessed that Voldemort had sensed the basics anyway.
“Trying to protect them? How precious,” Voldemort whispered softly, in his snake-like voice. Hermione out her mind shields up on full blast. Over the summer, and the beginning of this year, Harry had taught Hermione and Ron Occlumency. Hermione had discovered that she had a natural talent for it and had quite impressive powers in it.
“You will never win,” Hermione whispered viciously. Voldemort cackled, making Hermione’s neck hair stand up on end.
“One thing you need to know about the world we live in; there’s no good or evil, only power. Power always wins. And I assure you, I have more power,” Voldemort was now twirling his wand between his long, thin fingers. This childish gesture seemed somehow so threatening.
“RUN!” Hermione yelled without further ado. She looked at her parents desperately, and time seemed to slow. Voldemort was angry, but her parents just stared, dumbstruck. Then they ran for their lives.
In one swift movement, Hermione twisted herself artfully, avoiding the curse sent at her by Voldemort. Then she drew out her wand, and began deflecting. She didn’t know where her parents were, but she prayed it was somewhere away from him.
Hermione cast a shield around herself, one that would keep away most spells. And the duel went on, if only for a few minutes. While Hermione was an exceptionally knowledgeable and powerful witch for her age, she couldn’t match up to Voldemort. She was already suffering a large slash on her back, from which she could feel her blood dripping. Voldemort, on the other hand, had gotten at least 3 broken fingers thanks to a nasty little Bone-Breaker curse Hermione sent at him. Unfortunately, it didn’t hit his wand arm.
“Avada Kedavra,” Hermione ducked, not even thinking about it. And she heard it connect with something behind her, heard a scream. Then Voldemort laughed, twirled his cloak and disappeared. Immediately, she turned around to see what had been hit.
A shock greeted Hermione’s eyes. Helen Granger was on the floor, gripping her husband, sobbing desperately, begging him to get up and move. But he wouldn’t, that was clear from his cold body, his empty eyes.
Menelaus Granger was dead.
--
“Who was he, Hermione? I have to know,” Hermione’s mum sobbed. Hermione felt her heart breaking, knowing that the death of her father had been all her fault.
“His name is Lord Voldemort. He, in a way, is like the magical Hitler of today. Mum… he’s been after Harry -my best friend, Harry- since the day of birth,” Hermione choked out. Her mother had to know, now. It was too late to save anyone, but her mum had to know.
“You knew this?” Helen Granger stared in disbelief at her daughter.
“Yes, I did. We’ve fought him before, Harry, Ron and I. He’s after witches and wizards that don’t support him. And of course, people like me, that were born into families of non-magical people, or half and half,” Hermione replied, her voice scratchy and her body sore. Her spirit, of course, was broken and had been for quite some time.
“Hermione… why didn’t you tell us?” Hermione’s mother was looking so helpless at the moment. Tears streaming down her face, puffy eyes, so weak, fragile. As if the lightest touch could break her.
“I-I… I thought if you didn’t know, I could protect you. I didn’t want you banning me from magic,” Hermione whispered, fear evident in her eyes. Fear for everything. And fury.
“Hermione… maybe that way it would have been safer,” her mother replied gently, still sobbing.
“You don’t understand… this is who I am,” Hermione said desperately. Her mother didn’t know, didn’t know what it was like to fight and save the world, save a life. It was an amazing thing, and Hermione couldn’t just turn her back on what she was.
“But you could be someone else. You could have been our daughter, and only that. You had a choice,” Hermione’s mother was trying to hold it all together, in front of her daughter. But it wasn’t working the slightest.
“I didn’t have a choice, mum. I never had a choice. I’m sorry,” Hermione felt her voice cracking. She stood up, shook away her tears and gave her mother a tight hug.
“If you can’t understand mum, then I’m sorry. Just know that I love you, and I always will,”
And with that, Hermione Granger walked away. To where, she did not know. How she would get there, that was a mystery too. But she knew one thing; she had broken another rule. And there are always consequences.
She had walked for a while now, still crying. She only had one option that Hermione knew of. Sticking her wand out, she waited for the Knight Bus to arrive. While she waited, she took out her scrap of parchment, the one she always kept with her, and she observed it. It had changed again, from three rules crossed off, to four.
5 Simple Rules
Rule #1: Never be ignorant to something obvious
Rule #2: Never turn away from the truth
Rule #3: Never stab a friend in the back
Rule #4: Never let the family know
Rule #5: Never fall for one of them
A single tear dropped onto the parchment, smudging the writing. Then another. And two more. Hermione was desperately crying, wanting to let it all out.
Another rule was down the drain, and Hermione’s life was slowly falling apart.
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A/N: I did an Internet search on Hermione, and this is what I came up with… also how I got the name of her parents.
Hermione: The beautiful daughter of Menelaus and Helen. She had been promised in marriage to Orestes before the Trojan War, but Menelaus, after his return home, married her to Neoptolemus (Pyrrhus).
Big shout-out to my 2 wonderful betas, Kris and Katy… without you guys, this would be a disaster.
Thank you all for reviewing. It means a lot to me…
xo anniePADFOOT