Number Four, Privet Drive was filled with a dead quiet this time of night only broken by the scratching of a quill coming from the small bedroom normally occupied by Harry Potter. But it was not Harry who was awake and working. It was none other than Hermione Granger. Though Harry and Ron were both asleep, Hermione was up, immersed in books and papers. The quiet of the night was conducive to her work and besides she was restless.

Hermione looked up from her papers to smile at her two friends. Harry was asleep in his bed, his brow furrowed as if he were dreaming of something unpleasant. On the floor beside him, in a sleeping bag, was Ron Weasley, who slept soundly with his face relaxed and his mouth half open. Hermione shifted her work slightly so she could see it better. She wanted to get as much research as possible done before they left for Godric's Hollow.

I should get a book on Horcruxes, She thought. But where would she find them? Knockturn Alley. Perfect. They'd be bound to have one.

She made a note of this to herself on her list as Harry mumbled something in his sleep.

The air was chill with frosty silence as Hermione stabbed nervously at her chicken. She didn't like eating dinner with the Dursleys at all. She hated the Dursleys for what they had done to Harry, just being around them made her angry. She didn't understand them at all. Who could hate Harry? Who could be that cruel? Still, she felt uncomfortable imposing on the Dursleys when she knew they didn't want her here.

Harry broke the silence. "I heard you up last night," he nodded to Hermione.

"Oh, did I wake you?"

"Nah, woke up by myself," Harry said airily. "What were you doing, up with all the books and papers?"

"Don't tell me you were studying," Ron said in a nauseated voice. "Schools out. We're not even going back next year."

"I was just planning for the trip," Hermione said. They always called it "the trip" as if they were taking a vacation in Majorca, not going off to find bits of Voldemort's soul.

"You were planning…by looking at books," Harry said.

"Books have saved us more than once if memory serves," Hermione answered.

"Books are the answer to everything, Harry," Ron said, wide eyed. "Don't tell me you didn't know that."

"Ah, yes," Harry answered in an imitation of Professor Trelawney. "Books…they are not only a wealth of valuable life saving information, but they transport us into whole other wooooorlds…"

"Oh, shut up," Hermione said, smiling to herself. She couldn't help but be glad that despite the task ahead, Harry and Ron were still their same sarcastic selves.

"Can I have seconds?" Ron asked.

And apparently Ron still had his appetite.

The Dursley's merely glared at Ron.

"I'll take that as a yes, then," Ron said, helping himself to more chicken. "You know, you should really be more polite. We're guests."

A vein was pulsing in Harry's uncle's temple. Harry was biting his lower lip to keep from laughing.

"Good chicken," Hermione said quickly, shoving her plate away. She looked over at Ron who was shoving the chicken in his mouth as fast as he could. "Ron's a pig." She apologized.

"Hey!" Ron mumbled with his mouth full.

They were met with a stony silence. Harry rolled his eyes at them and sighed. Hermione tried to finish her dinner quicker. Finally, Harry's uncle snapped "When are you going to leave?" to Harry

"As soon as possible," Harry sighed, putting his dishes away.

"Good."

"And who wants to play chess?" Hermione interjected nervously

"Winner plays me!" Ron said, shoving the last of the chicken into his mouth and getting up. Harry followed him, looking sullen. Hermione began to follow Harry out of the kitchen. Petunia was about to get up to wash the dishes when Hermione stopped and said, "Here, let me."

She waved her wand and the dishes became magically clean. Petunia gasped and jumped back. All three of the Dursleys looked positively terrified.

Hermione couldn't resist an evil smile as she strode out of the kitchen.

The trio was on one of their evening walks. Harry had grown into the habit of restlessly strolling the streets in the evening and Ron and Hermione accompanied him. Admittedly, Hermione liked walking with her best friends, the cool evening air whipping her hair, the silence and just the three of them, alone in the street.

Sort of alone.

"Look, there's Dudley and his gang," Harry nodded toward silhouettes in the distance.

"What are they up too?" Hermione asked.

"Smoking. Beating up small children. Vandalism. Possibly doing drugs."

"Maybe we should go another way, then," Hermione began, but Harry said, "Too late. Look, they've spotted us."

Indeed they had. One figure shouted, "Look Big D, it's Potter," and they started toward them while Dudley stammered something about how he didn't want to miss this one television show.

Harry tensed. Hermione put her hand on his shoulder but her hand curled into a fist as well. Maybe she'd give these bullies a little scare…

"Um, mates, we should…" Dudley was saying, as the bullies got closer.

"Blimey," Ron said. "A lot of these blokes are bigger than Crabbe and Goyle."

"And just as stupid," Harry muttered.

"Look, it's Potter!" A big boy with mousy hair cackled. "Long time, no see."

" Who are these two?" said a ratty boy. "Are they from your…reform school?"

"Oh, yeah, sure." Harry said in a monotone.

"I though it was St Brutus's Insti- inst- I thought it was a school for boys. She's a girl," said a boy, pointing to Hermione.

"Well spotted," Hermione couldn't help saying. Grinning, Ron caught her eye.

"She's from the Institution for, er, Incurably Criminal Girls," Harry said.

"Don't tell me you have friends, Potter," the ratty boy sneered.

"Okay, I won't," Harry said dismissively.

"I don't like Potter's mouth," the big boy sneered.

"Or his little girlfriends. I think she was being…um... um…"

"Sarcastic," Hermione said helpfully.

"Yeah! When she said well spotted."

"Let's beat them up, huh, Big D!"

"You better not lay a finger on either of them," Ron snarled. "Or you'll regret it."

"Let's beat him up too, then!" the ratty boy said excitedly.

"I don't think so," Dudley said. "Uh…they…uh…we should just go home."

"Come on, Big D! Punch Potter. Just like old times. Remember how we'd punch him in the nose and break his glasses?"

"He'd run whenever he saw us!"

"That was bad though," one guy said slowly. "He was fast. We could never catch him, unless he tripped or something."

"Yeah, punch him Big D!" the guys started to chant.

"But, but…"

"I'll do it," A big guy said, grabbing Harry's shirt.

Hermione reached for her wand, but Harry said calmly, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Why?"

"Ron and Hermione are really good shots," Harry said.

"Wha-who are Ron and Her-my-oh-knee?" The boy said slowly, stumbling over Hermione's name.

"My friends, you idiot."

"Whaddya mean they're good shots?"

"We're criminals, remember? They have guns. With bullets."

The boy paled and let go of Harry's shirt. But the ratty boy said, "You're bluffing."

"He's not," Ron said fiercely. "What's a gun?" he whispered to Hermione.

"Just play along," Hermione whispered back.

"Yeah, right," the ratty boy sneered, still focused on Harry.

"I'm not scared of no girl," said one of the humongous boys, looking at Hermione.

"You should be," Hermione said softly, hiding her wand behind her back.

"Don't mess with her, she's dangerous," Ron warned.

"We have guns," Harry said again.

"Prove it." The ratty boy sneered.

Behind her back, Hermione's wand let out a bang like a gunshot, echoing through the street. The boys jumped a foot in the air and ran away screaming. As soon as they disappeared around the corner, Ron doubled over with laughter.

"That…was…brilliant," Ron gasped. "Did you see the looks on their faces?"

Harry was chuckling too. "Serves them right."

Hermione smiled. She had to admit, it was pretty funny. And it was rather satisfying, getting back at those bullies.

"So," Rom asked, "What IS a gun?"

A few nights later, Hermione was walking to the bathroom when she heard voices in Harry's aunt and uncle's bedroom. Curious, she pressed her ear to the door.

"How much longer are they going to be here, I wonder?"

"It better ruddy well not be much longer. I look forward to never seeing the boy again. And those friends of his! Not only are they not normal, but anyone who'd be friends with that boy has obviously got problems," Harry's uncle growled.

"That girl, sleeping in the boys room, it's positively indecent!"

"I know what you mean. She's probably sleeping with the boy, and I don't mean on the floor of his room."

Ew, Hermione thought, wrinkling her nose and feeling anger flare up in her stomach.

"It sounds like they're going on some sort…of…quest thing," Harry's aunt said, sounding odd.

"Eh?"

"I heard them talking…by accident…they're going to try and stop…that…Voldemort…the one who killed…. I mean, the one who sent the Dementors after him, remember?"

There was a stunned silence. Hermione herself couldn't help being surprised. According to Harry, his aunt and uncle often pretended magic didn't exist.

"Oh…maybe we'll get lucky and he'll finish the boy off as well."

Hermione clenched her fists. How could Harry's family be so horrible?

"No…if the boy doesn't finish him off…he'll…attack…. he kills normal people…It could be us next."

There was a long silence.

"We…should get some sleep," Vernon said.

Hermione crept away from the door.

Hermione walked in the living room, her hair dark and sopping wet from the shower she had just taken. Ron was examining the television with fascination as Harry paced back and forth irritably. Hermione searched through her bag for a wand to dry her hair as Ron said "What IS this thing?"

"A television," Hermione said, locating her wand.

"That is so informative."

"Harry told you about it in fourth year. When he was explaining electronic bugs." Hermione said, holding a clump of wet hair above the steam erupting from her wand.

"Just because you remember everything people say, doesn't mean I do, Hermione," Ron snapped.

"You'll just have to get used to being ignorant then."

"Know it all," Ron muttered.

"What's with Harry?" Hermione asked, examining her now dry hair in the mirror. It was so frizzy she could swear it was emitting static electricity.

"He wont tell me. I expect he's getting antsy again. He hasn't sat down since we got up."

"Huh," Hermione said, running her fingers through her hair. "Ow!" She cried as her fingers were caught in a tangle.

"Maybe he's tired of being here. Or maybe he's gone completely insane. Or more insane. I always figured he was insane already."

"I'm right here!" Harry snapped.

"Harry, calm down. He was just kidding," Hermione said soothingly, searching through her bag for a hairbrush. "What's up with you?"

Harry sighed. "It's like Ron said, I guess. I'm tired of being here. I hate this place. I want to be hunting him down, not here."

"We've only been here a week. I think it needs to be two weeks before the magic sets in," Hermione said.

"I know, I know…." Harry grumbled.

"At least after this you never have to go back," Ron said reasonably.

"Yes, after this I never want to see you again," said a voice from the doorway. The three of them whipped around to face Vernon Dursley. "Is that clear, boy?"

"Didn't you just here me?" Harry snarled. "I wouldn't come back here if my life depended on it!"

"If your life depended on it, then I definitely wouldn't let you in," Vernon said nastily. "Get away from that television, you red headed freak!" he snapped at Ron.

"He'll do whatever he wants!" Harry shouted. "He has a wand and you don't! And don't talk to my friends like that!"

"You mean, that girl over there with the hair that ate London or the beanpole boy with clown feet."

Harry jumped up looking angry and Ron scowled, but before either of them could do anything, Hermione stepped in front of Vernon with her wand pointed at him.

"Please go to another room," she said. "We're trying to have a conversation."

Vernon left, glaring at her. Harry sat back down looking mutinous.

Hermione restlessly tugged the brush though her hair, wincing.

"Want to play chess?" Ron said hopefully to Harry.

"No."

"We could go out," Hermione suggested.

"Where? This is Little Whinging. There's nothing to do."

"Well, I'm going to write a letter to Mum and Dad," Hermione announced.

"Yeah, what happened to your Mum and Dad?" Ron said. "You never told us how they took it."

"Like I know," Hermione sighed. "I gave them a letter and dissaperated."

"You gave them a letter?" Ron asked incredulously. "You didn't even tell them face to face?"

"Of course I didn't! They'd try to stop me!"

"And maybe they should," Harry said suddenly. "I mean, I wouldn't want to worry your parents. And this is going to be so dangerous, Hermione, I don't want you and Ron to-er…" he trailed off as Hermione fixed him with her stoniest glare.

"Honestly, you shove a letter in their hands explaining that you've been lying to them for six years and you're now going to go risk your neck, and they can't stop you, and run off. I wouldn't want to be your parents."

"Oh, Ron?"Hermione said firing up. "And what should I do? Take five hours to explain everything to them and have them try to restrain me from going, perhaps so much that I'm forced to curse them to escape? Don't talk to me about how I should treat my parents, Ron Weasley! Neither of you have had any idea what it's been like for me, having to lie to them for six years so I could keep going to Hogwarts! You don't know what it's like having parents from the other world, who couldn't possibly comprehend the world of magic! You have no idea what it's like to be away from them all year, only to have to cut holidays and summers short, so I can make sure you two don't do anything stupid, to not be able to tell them anything! And you, you cannot possibly comprehend what it was like to write the letter, explaining every horrible thing that's ever happened to us and just stuff it in their hands and leave them there, because you can't think of anything else to do, to see the looks on their faces when you run away! No, so don't you ever lecture me, Ron, when you have a mother and father who know exactly whats going on!"

Hermione was screaming by the time she finished and both Harry and Ron had their mouths hanging open, looking shocked.

"Hermione…" Ron said weakly.

"I don't ever want to talk about this again," Hermione said, breathing hard. "When I come back down, we are acting like this never happened."

With that she stormed out of the room, past the Dursleys, who must have heard her. She didn't care. She thumped up the steps, throwing the door to Harry's room open so violently that Crookshanks hissed and disappeared under the bed. Hands shaking, Hermione reached for the ink a parchment and composed a letter to her parents.

Dear Mum and Dad,

I'm fine and at Harry's aunt and uncles. They are just as horrible as Harry says, but don't bother us much, because we have wands. Harry's already getting tired of the place, and I can't blame him. Ron, however, takes great pleasure in goading Dudley and is fascinated by the Muggle technology.

I hope you aren't taking my letter too hard. I did what I had to do. The last thing in the world I want to do is to hurt you.

Crookshanks is fine; I haven't figured out whether I should take him on the trip yet. He might be a liability, but I'd miss him and he also might be a help. He figured out Ron's rat was…not a rat. (Like I said in my letter, it's a long story) I suspect he's part Kneazle, which could be useful. Nevertheless, I might be sending him to you. Please take good care of him if I do.

I hope you don't in any way blame Harry for this. He's still trying to convince Ron and me not to come with him. He even said he was worried about upsetting you two. So, he isn't dragging us into this in any way. We're choosing to go.

Being here makes me really appreciate having a family. It must have been horrible for Harry, growing up with these people. His uncle never loses a chance to insult him. I'm glad you two are such good parents.

I'd better go. But remember, you can't write back, or people might track us. I'll write to you every week. If I miss a week, don't panic. I might just be…busy.

I love the both of you and I'm still so sorry.

Love from,

Hermione.

Hermione finished the letter and gave it to Pigwidgeon, who was less conspicuous than Hedwig. Then, sighing, she went downstairs again.

That night, Hermione had a dream.

Hermione stood next to Harry and Ron in a graveyard, watching her parents dance around a grave to some rather horrible opera.

"Should I talk to them?" Hermione said nervously.

Ron, who was playing the kazoo, shrugged. Hermione rolled her eyes and turning to Harry, who said, "Hey, don't ask me. I don't know anything. I don't even have parents."

"I know, Harry."

"Just hurry up," Harry advised. "My days are numbered, you know."

"Is that why we're here?" Ron sang.

Hermione stepped toward her parents, who were laughing.

"Hi."

"Hello Hermione. You're late."

"Sorry," Hermione said. "And I mean it."

"Sorry is just a word," Her mother told her.

"Then what do I say?"

"Say nothing."

"You don't need us anymore," her father said, twirling like a ballerina.

"You're all grown up."

"I need you," Hermione protested weakly, but her parents just laughed.

"But they don't need you…it's true…it's true…" Ron sang.

"Shut up, beanpole," she snarled. She turned to her parents. "Whose grave are you dancing on, anyway?"

Her mother giggled. "Yours, of course."

Hermione woke up with a start. Breathing heavily, she looked around. Ron was gone. He must've been going to the bathroom or something. She looked over at Harry, who was frowning and muttering something indistinguishable in his sleep. The room felt cold and barren. Hermione stuck her head out the open window, the wind whipping in her face. She looked down and saw a windowframe of rust metal bars fallen on the ground behind the hedges. Odd. But then, this place felt like a jail. She couldn't imagine growing up here. She remembered seeing the small cramped cupboard for the first time, the one Harry had told them he had slept in. How could people be so cruel? She felt for her sleeping friend, who slept with a perpetually worried look on his face. For Harry, life had never been easy. She sighed and crawled back into her sleeping bag, waiting for Ron to reenter the room. He never did.

A week later, it was finally time to leave the Dursleys. Harry shook Hermione awake at six o clock in the morning.

"Harry?" she yawned, sitting up.

"Come on, we need to eat breakfast before we go," he said urgently.

Ron who was grumbling checked the clock, and then looked mortified.

"Harry, it's-"

"I know, I know. But the sooner we're out of here the better," Harry said abruptly and strode out of the room. Ron rubbed his eyes mournfully.

A half hour later, they were downstairs and Harry was frying bacon. By the time they had finished breakfast the Dursleys were awake. Harry swore under his breath.

"What are you doing?" Vernon asked suspiciously.

"I'm going," Harry said flatly.

"Finally," Vernon heaved a sigh. Hermione fought the urge to make little birds attack him.

"Yeah," Harry said, sounding listless. "Well…. er…bye."

"Goodbye," Hermione and Ron chorused.

"Thank you for letting us stay!" Hermione said. Harry and Ron rolled their eyes at her.

They waited for the Dursleys to say something, but they didn't, so they turned around and walked toward the door.

"Wait a minute," Vernon said.

They stopped.

"I've waited a long time for this day. And now it had finally come. And I just want to say: you were a whiny ungrateful burden from the day you were born, just like your useless parents. I don't know why we put up with you. So, go with your freaky friends. But never, ever come back to this house again. I don't want you bringing your demented-oids and Dark Lord. If you're going to get yourself killed, do it away from here."

There was a ringing silence. Hermione felt rage boil in her stomach, but still managed to grab Ron's arm when he pulled his wand out. Harry did not touch his wand. He advanced on Vernon until they were an inch apart. Harry's anger was making the room shake, literally. Petunia and Dudley shrank back and even Vernon looked unnerved. But Harry merely looked very pale. When he spoke it was in a calm voice.

"I would never come back here. Ever since I can remember," he said steadily "I have hated this place. I have hated this family. Every single one of you, I used to be afraid of you, when I was small. I'm not anymore. I'm not afraid of any of you. It's you who should be afraid. Something much bigger and more frightening than you can ever imagine in your tiny little minds is going on. And it doesn't matter if I stay away or not … it will affect you. It will consume you. I've met people, since I've gone to Hogwarts, a thousand times more evil and threatening than you. But you, you ignorant, selfish, cruel little people, only think about how you're going to beat the crap out of the ten year old kid who called you a pig, or what the neighbors are fighting about or your next big drill deal." Harry laughed coldly. "I almost feel sorry for you."

"You listen here, boy," Vernon started, his face purpled but Harry interrupted him.

"No!" Harry said. A vase shattered on the desk table. "You listen to ME for once. You were almost the worst family anybody could ask for. You act like you know me? You know NOTHING about me. But I know you. You are all just so afraid…of something different, of someone better, and so petty and jealous- and you make up for it by being bigots. But I can see under that. Under that, you're just cowards. Just. Sniveling. Cowards. And now, you have something REAL to fear. And I'm glad I'll be gone the day reality finally kicks in!"

The Durleys stared at Harry, dumbstruck.

Harry took a deep breath. "I used to be afraid. I used to hate you. But now, I pity you. But I have bigger things to deal with. And really? I don't even care anymore. Goodbye."

He strode out the door, Ron and Hermione hurried after him, and Harry slammed the door so hard that they heard a crash as a painting fell off of the wall.

Harry strode ahead of them breathing heavily. At the end of the street, he stopped abruptly. He turned around staring at the silent street. Hermione looked at it too. Rows and rows of houses stretched down, all with perfectly trimmed gleaming lawns. Light flashed off the windows and a wind blew softly through. Harry sat down on the road. Ron and Hermione knelt down next to him.

"I'm leaving," Harry said, as if he didn't believe it. "Forever. And I'm never going back."

"Yes," Hermione said softly.

"You're well out of it, mate," Ron said.

Harry gave both of them a faint smile and took out the locket, the fake Horcrux he and Dumbledore had found, out of his pocket, rubbing it with his thumb. Then he put it away. He got up, and so did they.

"Alright then," he said. "Let's go."

Hermione adjusted her bags, clutching Crookshanks carriage tighter, closed her eyes and turned slowly. And, before they knew it, the three of them were being forced through a cramped black hole, speeding away, away, away, from Number Four, Privet Drive.

-Say goodbye to the old street that never cared much for you anyway
And the different colored doorways you thought would let you in one day
Goodbye to the old bus stop frozen and waiting
The weekend addition has this town over-rated
You walk across the baseball green
The grass has turned to straw
A flock of birds tries to fly away from where you are
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye old friend
I can't make you stay
I can't spend another ten years wishing you would anyway
Say goodbye to the old building that never tried to know your name
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye old friend
You won't be seeing me again
Goodbye to all the window panes shining in the sun
Like diamonds on a winter day
Goodbye, goodbye to everyone

-From Useless Desires , Patty Griffin.