Love Is No Big Truth

3. Further
down the spiral

After
reading Professor Snape’s letter, Hermione sat at the table for a long time,
lost in thought. He was right—she needed to get a grip and talk to her friends.
But first, she would need to go get her parents She
didn’t like to contemplate on their reaction when she reversed the Memory
Charms, but she missed them terribly. She was determined to buy back her
parents’ house before she went to retrieve them. She could only hope that they
would be able to forgive her for shipping them away; she would do everything
possible to make them comfortable when they have returned. Hermione quickly
dressed and left for Diagon Alley: she had to visit Gringotts and later the
Ministry before she could proceed.

***

Hermione
Apparated to a close by alleyway in her old neighbourhood.
Tucking her wand away,
she walked out onto the street and headed towards the real estate agency. She
entered the small office and a young clerk smiled at her.

‘Good
morning! My name is Lucy Richards, how may I help you?’

Hermione
gave the address of the property and expressed an interest in buying it. The
woman did a quick search of her database and announced that the house was
actually for sale. Hermione couldn’t believe her luck: she had been prepared to
offer a larger sum to the current owners to persuade them to sell. She quickly
agreed on the price, and an hour later after all the formalities were dealt
with, she left the office clutching to her chest the deeds to the house.

Sitting in
her favourite café a few blocks from the house, she sipped on her
espresso and smiled up at the sky. Everything was going according to plan.
While she waited for her crumpet, she picked up a newspaper from the tray and
leafed through it. During the last year she rarely had time to catch up with
the news from the Muggle world. Scanning the boring articles about government
changes and such, she reached the page with world news and just as she was
ready to turn to the next one, a headline caught her

eye that made her blood run cold.

“Memorial to the victims of Cyclone Marion in
Queensland

Today, the Lord Mayor of Brisbane unveiled a
small memorial plaque with the names of the diseased. Seventy-three names
reside on the memorial honouring the final number of victims. All of the City
Council expressed their condolences to the families...”

Hermione
took a large breath and willed herself to be calm. True, her parents lived in
Brisbane, but it was highly unlikely that they had suffered too badly from the
cyclone. Well, she was going to check anyway. Her watch displayed 10:30 AM and
with the time difference of nine hours, that meant it was 7:30 PM in
Brisbane—not too late for a visit. She walked out of the café and walked
again into a nearby alleyway. There, she closed her hand around the Portkey
Kingsley had given her and felt the familiar tug behind her navel.

***

Arriving in
Brisbane, Hermione could still see the damage from the cyclone even four months
later. Trying to avoid thinking about that, she walked to the building where
her parents lived and worked. Walking up the stairs, she dreaded the moment she
would reverse the Memory Charm. Oh, dad
will go spare! And mum will cry… She
didn’t want to think about any other possibilities, much more horrible than her
parents’ ire. Reaching the third floor, she located the door that simply said,
“Wendell and Monica Wilkins, Dentists” and rang the doorbell. When nobody
answered, she rang again. Maybe they are
on holiday! On the third ring, the opposite door opened and a middle-aged
black woman peeked out. When she saw Hermione, her face fell.

‘You
looking for the Wilkins, honey?’

Hermione
nodded, cold fear gripping her heart. The woman sighed and moved aside.

‘Better
come in, then.’

It can’t be. It’s not possible. Maybe they are
ill? Or they moved?
Trying desperately to fight away the despair that threatened to overwhelm her,
she numbly followed the woman. Some distant part of her registered that her
nameplate read “Mrs. Sullivan”.

Mrs.
Sullivan led her to a cosy sitting room and motioned towards a small red sofa.
She pulled up an armchair and looked at Hermione with sad eyes.

‘I am
really sorry, honey. It was the cyclone, it hit when it was their day off. They
drove to the beach and never returned.’

Hermione
squeezed her eyes shut, willing away the threatening tears. She had saved them
from Voldemort, but only to put them on the path of a cyclone. Which was worse, they had died without
remembering their own daughter.

The woman
sighed again and patted her hand.

‘People
have been coming here since it happened: friends and patients. It was always
hard to say it, but it’s even worse now, telling a relative.’

Hermione’s
eyes snapped up to Mrs. Sullivan’s face.

‘How do you
know I am a relative?’ she asked sharply.

‘You look
so much like Monica, child.’ The old woman said kindly, ‘If I didn’t know
better, I’d say you were her daughter.’

Hermione
swayed slightly, but managed to regain her composure. All of her insides felt
cold and numb; she only wanted to go home.

‘I am
a…niece. From England. Thank you, Mrs. Sullivan, I
need to go.’

The
concerned woman walked her to the door. Hermione left the building, ducked into
the first empty alley she spotted and activated her Portkey. Just as she had
asked, the destination was her old house. As if in a trance, she walked to her
old room—apparently, the new owners had turned it into a guestroom, but the bed
was still in the same spot. There, she finally collapsed and cried herself to
sleep.

***

Hermione
woke up around noon in her old childhood room, hugging a tear-soaked pillow.
She cast a quick freshening charm on her clothes and face before she left the
house, trying not to look around much. She didn’t need any more reminders of
the situation after barely managing to compose herself.

She arrived with a crack on the doorstep of
Grimmauld Place and walked in. Loud noises were coming from the dining room,
Ginny’s laughter and the boys’ booming voices.
She smiled ruefully. They were the closest individuals she had now.
Walking in the room, she was assaulted by a chorus of greetings and Harry, who
engulfed her in a bear hug. She looked around—Ginny beamed a huge smile at her;
Ron also smiled, although a bit lopsided.

‘Well?’
Hermione said, ‘I figure you have something to tell me?’

Suddenly
shy, Harry stepped away from her. Ginny lifted her right hand and a small ruby
shone on her ring finger. Hermione’s eyes widened.

‘You…you’re
getting married?’ She realised that didn’t come out right and quickly
continued. ‘That’s great, I’m so happy for you! It was just so sudden…Ginny,
you haven’t even finished school yet!’

Ron
muttered, ‘Yeah, tell me about it.’

Harry
walked over to Ginny and grasped her hand.

‘She’s of
age already and we didn’t want to wait anymore. It’s not like we’re having
babies anytime soon.’ Ginny blushed and swatted his hand. ‘There is another
thing: after a few years, when we both have jobs and Teddy reaches the age for
daycare, we want to adopt him officially.’

Hermione
covered her face with her hands and sighed deeply.

‘Have you
really thought this through?’ She asked with a muffled voice.

Both her
friends nodded enthusiastically.

‘Hermione,
we know that we love each other, truly. Why wait? And about Teddy, he is the
greatest kid on earth. We spoke to Andy and she thinks it is a great idea.’

Hermione
lifted her face and smiled a weary smile.

‘Well, I
guess congratulations are in order then?’ She stood up and proceeded to hug her
friends. Ron laughed and joined the group hug.

‘You know,
Mione, these were exactly the same words Mum used.’ Ron said with a grin. ‘Well, plus
tears and ranting about proper wedding gowns.’

‘Mr. and
Mrs. Weasley are throwing a small celebration dinner. Do you want to come?’
Harry asked.

That was
the right moment, the moment to tell them everything. She opened her mouth, but
something entirely different came out.

‘Harry,
Ginny, I’d love to. But I am coming down with something and I’d better stay
home for a few days. In fact, I’ll go upstairs and have a nap, maybe read a
book.’ She hurried up the stairs and hid in her room to think things over. She
couldn’t ruin their moment, not when she saw Ginny’s eyes sparkle and Harry’s
foolish grin. They were all a family now; Harry was officially a part of the
Weasleys. They didn’t need her—her depressions and problems.

Hermione
stared vacantly into space until a knock on the door startled her. It was
Harry.

‘Hermione,
we’re leaving for the Burrow and we’ll probably stay over. How are you feeling?
You know, Madame Pomfrey said we could always Floo her if we need something.’

Hermione
forced a smile and shook her head.

‘No need,
Harry, I will be fine. You go have fun and tell me all about it tomorrow.’

‘Sure will.
Have a good night!’ Harry grinned and closed the door.

Hermione
sighed and reached out for her potion case. Despite Professor Snape’s advice,
she would take the Dreamless Sleep Potion one last time. She really needed to
rest and she was certain two additional faces would haunt her dreams.