A/N: This is a missing moment from DH right after Hermione alters her parent's memories, in her POV. She reflects on her family life and childhood and heads off to the Burrow. I think at this point she would be in shock; so her thoughts kind of mirror that. She isn't fully aware of what she has done, and is slowly starting to realize it. Now, I won't tell anymore, so go on and read!

Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Harry Potter; J.K. Rowling does.

Click

With the lock firmly in place, I turned and sat on my stoop. I cannot believe I just did that. The deed was done and there was no turning back. When my parents wake up in the morning they will be completely different people. Different memories, different names, and different lives; they won't know that they have a daughter.

That's when it hit me. I pressed my palms hard into my eyes, hoping to stop the tears in their tracks. The war was actually beginning and I was going to be fighting in it. So many people that I love and care for will be fighting alongside me with their lives on the line. There was no Hogwarts to go back to and hide in. It was finally here. In a few days my friends and I will go journeying out into the world with a seemingly impossible mission: to destroy Voldemort.

I stood up and looked at my childhood home. I may never return to see it. I may never see the garden in the back, I may never see the porch in front with the swinging chair that I spent countless hours reading in. I may never see my old bedroom; the one that had barely changed since I was eleven. It was still bright pink and covered with bookshelves and stuffed animals. But gone from it were my clothes, pictures, and other personal items. They were all packed up and magically altered to fit in a single bag. I was leaving and there should be no trace of my existence.

My parents were in there. Peacefully sleeping while their memories were being replaced and altered; memories that I had decided to alter. "It was for their own safety," I continually told myself. They needed to forget me if they were to remain alive, and they needed to move far away from here.

I had come up with this plan several days ago. It seemed like a great idea at the time to alter their memories and send them Australia; but now I am wondering if it was all just a mistake. There had to be a better way to ensure their well-being. I should have asked for Ministry assistance, or better yet, help from the Order. But I needed to do this on my own; I didn't want anyone else to be responsible for their lives. I didn't like the idea of depending on someone I wouldn't have contact with taking care of them. They deserved to still be able to live without the baggage I was forcing on them.

They didn't ask to be involved in the wizarding world, and here I was placing them in the greatest danger. Throughout my years they dealt with my magical differences with forced smiles on their faces. They willingly sent me to a school that would teach me how out of place I was in the muggle world; where I would gradually grow apart from them. I became so attached to the wizarding world that we lost our connection. When I came back from school for the summer, or sometimes Christmas when I wasn't with the Weasley family, dinners became tense and living together became awkward. We weren't the same family that we were before we discovered that my idiosyncrasies were actually magic.

And I blame it on myself, really. I never gave them a second thought when I was off gallivanting in the wizarding world. I gleefully journeyed off to the Weasley's without a backwards glance, and I regret not seeing the looks of pain on my parent's faces. Looking back, I wish they would have forced me to stay home with them for a little bit longer. Even if it was just to create memories for me to cherish when I tried to look back on my fleeting childhood.

As I stood looking at my old house I tried to recall memories of us as a family. All I that I can remember of us being a "true family" was before Hogwarts. Strained dinner conversations are not what makes family a family. And even though we were a family, we weren't really a family, no matter how much we sometimes tried. And I will never get a second chance. What's done is done, and another grief is added to the long list of regrets that has been growing over the years.

All I had was a couple weeks with them in which I tried to be the best daughter I could. I attended dinner parties, went shopping with my mother, watched futbol with my father, and played muggle board games with them on the weekends. It may have been too little too late, but it was all I could give them: one last chance to be a family before I completely removed all recollection of our past lives.

I finally turn away from my house and start walking down the sidewalk. I have no destination in mind. I understand that I will need somewhere to stay now, and I know it will be at the Burrow. But I wasn't ready to face them yet, I couldn't deal with all the questions from Ginny, and I certainly would not be able to face Ron.

There has been so much tension between the two of us since the whole Lavender Brown situation, and I have no clue where we stand. One minute we are getting along perfectly, and the next we are shouting our throats raw in another one of our infamous fights. My emotions at the moment are so crazy, and seeing him so quickly afterwards would leave me in an awful state.

My feet had subconsciously led me to the park I had often visited as a little girl. A small smile inches on my face as I sit on a swing. I remember when my dad would push me, and I would ask him with laughter in my voice to push me higher and higher. And he would, he would give me a mighty push and I would squeal with excitement.

But now I just sit here, dragging my shoes in the dirt only going high enough so my feet are still touching the ground. I sat there on the swings for hours relishing in memories of the past. I was unaware of the approaching darkness. The streetlights around the park lit up, alerting me to the fact that I should be on my way. I stood up and gave one last look to my childhood playground, fully aware that I may never see it again.

I felt a stinging in my eyes, and I became aware of the fact that I was crying. Who knows for how long I had, but I knew that once I started it would be difficult to stop. I started walking towards the woods on the outskirts of the park, knowing that I needed to apparate before I became too hysterical.

I let out a final sigh as I leaned against the base of a random tree. I noticed some strange markings along the bark, and I silently lit up my wand to see what the strange words were. Once the faint glow lit up the side of the tree, it was clear what the strange markings were. They were carved out initials of couples proclaiming their love. To me it seemed like a tradition for fools who were blinded by lust. Carving you and your loved one's name didn't make your love real.

But at least these muggles had someone to hold onto, even if just for that moment. Where I was going on an adventure where love was forced to the back of the mind. I had to be alert for Harry, and a relationship would only get in the way. I traced my fingers along the bark forming the letters HG and RW silently wishing that someday, once we live through this war, that we will get to partake in this silly tradition.

I suddenly realized what I was going to be fighting for in this war. I was going to fight for a world where it would be safe for my family to live, a world safe for me to start my own family, and a world where Ron and I could finally have a chance at a relationship.

With this thought in mind, I turned in my spot with my mind set on the one place where I felt truly at home: the Burrow. I didn't allow myself another look at my house or the playground full of memories knowing that I would break down again.

After properly accomplishing the three D's, I arrived on a hill about a kilometer away from the Burrow. As I walked I could see the disfigured home from a distance. It looked just as I remembered it, except the outside was a tad cleaner than usual. I had forgotten all about Bill and Fleur's wedding; I guess there has been too much on my mind lately.

I had never been to wizarding wedding, but I have been to a muggle's. I guess it will be a learning experience of sorts. I am pretty sure that I have a book that I can read up on beforehand in order to familiarize myself with the traditions. I have a feeling that once I experience this wedding, I will have a hard time getting it out of my head. I need to focus my attention on Harry during the hunt, and if my imagination strays to images or Ron and I at our own wedding, I may not be of much help.

Speaking of Ron, his room's light appears to be off; as does most of the house's. I look at my watch and sigh as I not that the time was a little past midnight. I must have stayed longer on that swing set than I had imagined. I quietly approach the front door hoping to not awaken anyone in the silent house.

I opened the door and peered into the dimly lit kitchen. I could smell the chicken pot pie that they must have had for dinner, and spotted leftover chocolate cake. I find it hard to believe that there would be any dessert leftovers, but the war and wedding preparations must have already caused a toll on the Weasley family.

My stomach growled reminding me that I hadn't eaten since lunch, over twelve hours ago. I spied the cake again, and looked around for signs of anyone in the family before I set my bag down and headed toward the counter. I felt slightly guilty, but I hoped that the chocolate would cure the gaping hole in my heart that I caused a few hours previously.

I grabbed a plate and silently summoned a fork and sat down to eat the cake as quickly and quietly as possible.

I heard the steps creaking from down the hall and silently cursed myself when I realized that I had accidentally awoken somebody. Mrs. Weasley appeared in the doorway looking awfully tired and seemed to have aged years more since the last time she saw her. However, Mrs. Wealsey's worn appearance did not stop her from greeting me in her typical fashion: a large hug that squeezed the breath from my lungs.

"Oh, Hermione, dear, we didn't think you were coming until later this week," Mrs. Weasley gushed as she let go of me. I sadly nod my head and I cannot help but to try and recall the last time I had hugged my own mother.

Mrs. Weasley noticed my far off expression, and pulled me in closer for a final hug. I broke down in her arms, and she held me tighter. She didn't need to ask what was wrong and I came to realize I had had come to know her as a second mother.

I wiped my eyes and pulled away after a couple of minutes. I sniffled and whispered a muffled "thank you" and turned around to clean up the mess I had made.

She quickly rushed to my side, "There is no need, dear. You have had quite a long night. I will take care of cleaning this up and you head upstairs to get a good night's rest." She reached out to grab my plate, and I quickly discovered where Ron got his stubbornness from.

Her actions were much appreciated and I offered her another thanks as I levitated my trunk up the stairs. I silently let them fall outside Ginny's room, but I didn't stop in. I knew that Ginny would respect my wishes to not discuss the situation, but she was not the Weasley that I needed to see the most.

A/N: Yes, a little bit of a cliffhanger! But don't worry, unlike my other story I have the next chapter written and ready to go. I need to read it over and check for mistakes still, but maybe more responses will speed me up? Hmmm… possibly!

Anywhos, I would love to hear what you think! So please REVIEW REVIEW!

Hearts,

Twinley

P.S. If you have any suggestions for other missing moments I could write, let me know!