Hermione Granger sat on a cold stone bench, staring blankly at the scene before her. She hadn't been here in a long time. Too long, if she was being honest with herself. She closed her eyes tightly as she tried to block out the chaos that had been the last few years.
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A week after the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione had traveled to Australia to track down her parents. Ron had wanted to come, but Hermione insisted that this was something she wanted -- needed -- to do on her own. It wasn't that hard to find them, really. Hermione half-hoped she would have more time to figure out what to say to them after she restored their memories. They were hurt and more than a little angry, but in the end understood that Hermione had acted rightly. She most likely saved their lives by modifying their memories and sending them out of the country.
After the family had returned to their home in England, Hermione decided that she would return to finish her 7th and final year at newly-rebuilt Hogwarts. The summer went too quickly, and before she or her parents were ready to say goodbye again, Hermione was off on the Hogwarts Express, promising to come home for the holidays. She'd miss her parents terribly, but was excited to get back to Hogwarts -- back to learning. Professor McGonagall had offered her the position of Head Girl, but Hermione had declined, feeling that she'd prefer to have a quiet year without too many responsibilities.
Letters were exchanged often between them by owl, and Hermione felt herself settling into a comfortable rhythm. She loved Hogwarts. She would never understand how Harry and Ron had chosen to go straight into Auror training instead of returning to school. Ron and Hermione wrote each other weekly, although Hermione felt like the letters sounded more like they were between friends instead of lovers.
It was on one cool, Autumn morning Hermione was sitting in the Gryffindor common room, putting the finishing touches on a letter to Ron when the portrait hole opened and a fifth-year prefect climbed in.
"Hermione? The headmistress needs you up in her office." The girl smiled awkwardly at Hermione and headed upstairs to the dormitories without another word.
Hermione didn't move for a moment. What would McGonagall be needing to talk to her about so early, and on a Saturday? She shrugged and gathered her things, folding Ron's letter carefully and sliding it into the pocket of her bag. She walked quickly to the headmistress's office, pausing only to give the stone gargoyle the password ("Dumbledore!" McGonagall hadn't had the heart to change it yet.) before hurrying up the stone staircase.
The door to Professor McGonagall's office was open, and she could hear the scratching of a quill on parchment. Knocking gently, Hermione peeked her head into the office.
"Professor? You sent for me?" Hermione asked.
Minerva McGonagall stood quickly from her desk. Her expression was guarded, with a hint of pity. Hermione felt nervous. Whatever McGonagall was about to say, it couldn't be good.
"What's happened? Has something--" Hermione began, but Professor McGonagall held up a hand. Hermione was quiet.
The headmistress took a deep breath before beginning. "Perhaps you ought to sit, Miss Granger..." She gestured to a plush chair in front of her desk. Hermione stayed on her feet. She shook her head, shivering with anxiety.
Professor McGonagall sighed again before lowering herself into her own seat.
"I received...disturbing information...this morning," she said in a wavering voice, not meeting Hermione's eyes.
Hermione's heart clenched. "Just tell me, Professor," she whispered.
"It's your parents..." She finally looked at Hermione.
