((I've wanted to write this story forever. So, here it is. I can't help myself. I've always wanted to create Hermione in an image of myself. So, I hope you enjoy it and please review! By the way, I don't like how Dumbledore died and this has nothing to do with the sixth and seventh book. I do not own the characters. I own just the plot to this story.)) 3
Chapter 1:: The End
Hermione bounced eagerly out of the Ministry car as it pulled to a stop in front of her family's house. Harry and Ron—whom were both riding with her, along with the rest of the Weasley family—laughed at their friends obvious excitement at being home once again. Harry nearly rolled his eyes at her newly flamboyant behavior, "Merlin, Hermione. You're acting as if you have not been here in a few millennia."
Ron merely nodded with a small smile playing at his lips. He liked Hermione this way. When she wasn't constantly behind a book or scolding him and Harry for their many pranks and guy moments, she was amazing and funny. Of course, he would never tell her that. For him, he always thought of his and Hermione's relationship as 'mum'. The less said in his case the better.
Hermione, on the other hand, took her trunk from Ron's hand and jumped on the two boys for a farewell hug. The only cloud on her sunny day was that by being home, she'd have to go a while without her two favorite men. Granted, she knew it was to only be for a few weeks; she just couldn't help herself. So, she made do with practically knocking them to the ground with her hugs.
" Harry, if you need anything or want someone to talk to, owl me straight away. Ron—" She tilted her head slightly as if studying his features, "I don't suspect I'll be getting an owl from you no matter what I say. So, I'll just be seeing you in a few weeks then."
Ron turned slightly red, mumbled "Later, Mione", and sank back into the car. Harry and Hermione didn't say anything for a while. They just simply stood there, as if thinking of something to say. Eventually, Harry broke the silence. "Hermione, I just want you to know that I really appreciated all of the help you've given me this last year. And that no matter what the war brings I'll always want you at my side."
Sadness almost knocked Hermione off of her feet. Their sixth year had been one of fear and pain. Dumbledore was almost killed by Severus Snape, who is currently on the run. Luckily enough, McGonagall arrived in time to stop the killing curse from hitting their headmaster. Now, the school was in a panic and their seventh year was destined to be an interesting one. Harry, though, was taking all of the incidents hard; for he'd lost all of his family and only had Dumbledore, McGonagall, Ron, the Weasley family, and herself now. Dumbledore nearly dying really shook him up. It seems that he's not going to be taking any of them for granted anymore.
She smiled up at him and gave him a gentle hug. "I'll always be there, Harry. You know where to find me and you always will."
He smiled and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before hopping into the car. Hermione just sat there, watching the car as it drifted away, not wanting to even move from the spot. That is, she didn't until she remembered that her mother and father were just beyond the front door, waiting for her to arrive home. With a new bolt of adrenaline, Hermione grabbed her trunk and ran for the house as fast as her two legs could carry her. Luckily enough, the door wasn't locked so she just burst through the door.
She was so excited she didn't see the blood—so much of it. Her trunk fell from her hand as her heart fell from her chest. Agony ripped through her body and she pulled out her wand and walked on shaky legs to the direction of the sitting room, where the blood trail seemed to go. She was too frightened to notice how much there really was; that it was still slightly fresh. Something just continued to pull her, dragging her numb body through the house. As she got closer and closer, she started to notice little things; the furniture was broken, knocked over, and things were askew.
The bright yellow door that led to the sitting room was closed. Hermione laid her hand on the doorknob, nausea building in her stomach. Her body was shaking and her legs were about to give out under her fear and agony. But, she pulled herself forward and twisted the handle, pushing open the door. The only thing that could be heard beyond that point was Hermione's screams of anguish.
((I know it's really short, but I wanted to make it as dramatic as I could and it just wouldn't work as a long chapter. Anyway, I hope you liked it, please review!))