Running

Chapter 4

Hermione's vision was completely clouded by smoke. As it cleared she realised she was pushing a trolley with some trunks on it. A train whistle was heard and as she looked around she found 11-year-old Harry grinning at her.

"It worked!"

Hermione began taking in her surroundings. A large clock towered over them showing them the time: 10:00 am, an hour before the Hogwarts Express that was stationary in front of her, would leave. She was wearing muggle clothing as was Harry in front of her, his unruly hair covering his scar. On his trolley, he too had trunks, and a very much alive Hedwig. Thinking back to her first day at this station she realised that her parents, the parents she hadn't seen in years, were just on the other side of the wall.

She realised that being back here could mean so many things. Sirius didn't have to die. Wormtail might not make it to Voldemort. She and Harry didn't have to fall for the Weasley's tricks. She felt her heart swell with joy and tears began pricking her eyes. She quickly wiped them away and followed Harry along the platform.

"Hermione?" She heard a familiar voice call. She turned and saw her mother and father following as they stepped out of the barrier labelled Platform 9 3/4. She ran back to them, leaving her trolley by Harry as she rushed to embrace them both. She tried not to cry, she'd done so much in the last 24 hours but as she felt their arms around her, she felt tears race down her cheeks. She couldn't believe she'd never gone back for them. That she'd never saved them from a life without her - or rather, saved herself from a life without them. She wouldn't let that happen this time. She wasn't losing them again.

"Ah see, I knew she'd miss us," her dad smiled as he pulled away from the hug, "So quick to run ahead but the moment she left she came running straight back." His laugh was music to her ears.

"We'll miss you too, sweetheart," her mother said, her arms still around her daughter. As she looked over her shoulder, she saw the young boy with Hermione's trolley coming back towards them. "Made a friend already, I see?"

"Hello, I'm Harry, I'm in Hermione's year, nice to meet you." Hermione pulled away, embarrassed by her very emotional reaction, quickly wiping her tears away.

"I expect you to take good care of my daughter while she's studying with you then, boy," Hermione's father said in mock strictness.

"Of course, sir," Harry said, smiling as he shook Mr Granger's hand.

After some light small talk, Hermione finally said her goodbyes to her parents, and she and Harry headed to the train and found an empty compartment. Though the train wouldn't be moving for a while longer, they changed into their robes. As they sat down, Hermione began asking Harry about his life after Hogwarts. So Harry explained. 

The Potters were amongst the richest magical families in Britain, an already fairly well-known fact. However, they also made investments in major Muggle companies, many of which Hermione recognised. After discovering that he'd been under a potion for so long, and after other incidents, which he only mentioned vaguely to Hermione, so she chose not to press, knowing he'd tell her in time, he eventually found out about the Potter fortune and essentially went into hiding in Wales. Life was better, but not good, that's why he'd decided to change it.

Hermione also spoke about her previous life with Ron. The fights, the shouting, everything. With the more things she vented about, Harry showed more outrage on his face, which looked rather comical considering he was now an eleven-year-old child. As she spoke, Hermione felt a lump in her throat. Though her time with Ron was foggy, and she really wasn't too sure of what had happened in the last few years - she'd left in such a rush - she still remembered the pain, the longing for freedom, her enslavement to Ron. She hadn't really thought when she ran through whatever the small box was with Harry, she just did. She thought she should've cared a bit more, considering she had left her children behind, but she couldn't bring herself to do so. In her mind, they were smoky shadows, small creatures that further bound her to Ron. In a strange way, she slightly resented them. Should she feel guilty for that? She didn't know; now they would never exist, never be tormented by their father or neglected by their mother, maybe it was better for them to never exist to begin with.