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Chapter 3 : Chapter 3: Home?
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A/N: Hi everyone, I hope you've been enjoying my story. I have been putting loads of time into it and it would really make my day if you guys could R/R. :) This story is Beta'd by anythingbutmuggle. I don't own any of the charachters and all rights go to J.K Rowling.
I winced as the doorbell went. This would be just as embarrassing as the previous eleven houses. I had been searching for my parents for nearly a week, doing about two to three houses a day, I managed to still enjoy my ‘Holiday’ while still doing the job at hand. As I heard footsteps approaching I prepared myself for how I would introduce myself. Hi, I am Hermione, I think you are my parents… I grimaced at the ridiculousness of the situation. Suddenly the door handle turned and I plastered a smile on my face.
“Hi, I’m Hermione Jean Granger, I believe that you-“
“-Look we’re not interested. I do charity work for the Red Cross every other Sunday and well.. Quite Frankly I don’t see the point in door to door visits. Goodbye.”
With that the door was slammed in my face. I grimaced at the idiocy of the situation. No. He was NOT my Father. NO WAY! Unless he had somehow suddenly changed nationality and body shape. I couldn’t help giggling despite the situation at hand and as I hurriedly reached for the bunch of W pages and moved my finger along the list, crossing off this address as I went, I noticed that it was number 13. My lucky number. I moved my eyes along to the address and focused on it, reciting it in my head and I felt and heard the familiar loud pop and tug in my navel that goes with Apparating.
I shivered as an icy breeze sped past me. I glanced around and saw the ocean, there was clearly a storm stirring. I checked the pages again and looked for the right number, number 24. It was a small seaside cottage and I knew that it must be where my parents lived. It screamed out their taste. The lawn so carefully mown had the little streaks that appeared whenever my Dad used a mower. I froze with uncertainty. Was I getting ahead of myself? I pushed my foot forward and before long stood in front of number 24. I raised my hand to see it quivering like a leaf. I steadied myself and rang the bell. As it echoed through the small cottage I felt a pang of surprise. It was the same tune we had at home, in England. I smiled to myself. This was definitely them!
As the door creaked open and my eyes registered what they saw I think my eyes must have looked like they were sticking out of my head, wide with surprise. My Mother (and it was DEFINITELY her) was pregnant. I let out a loud gasp before regaining my composure and greeting her.
“Hello.” I struggled to keep my voice level.
“Hi, Can I help you? Actually, this might seem a bit odd but, do I know you? You seem oddly familiar!”
“Uh.. No, I’m Hermione.. Uh, I just moved here with my parents and I thought I’d just go around the neighborhood and meet everybody.” That was a reasonable story, right?
“Aw. How lovely, I’m Monica Wilkins. So, where did you move from?”
“Oh! What a coincidence! My husband and I moved here form England just recently. He isn’t here right now.”
“Oh. Well. I’d best be going, my Mum will be looking for me.” I smiled and with a wave turned and hurried along the road and before long had to sit down as my eyesight was badly impaired by the number of tears pouring out of my eyes. As I cried cold and heavy rain began to pour down, soaking me and making my face wetter then it already was. I wept the number of tears I had been holding in for far too long, I couldn’t help but remember all of the deaths, the losses. Everything. As my breathing became more regular and the tears, slowed, I thought about what had actually happened. What I had made happen. I had given my parents a life free of children, but this clearly wasn’t what they wanted, as I had so clearly seen. No matter what I had tried to put into their minds when I had used the memory charm, their pure persistence and love of children had gotten the better of them. My Mum was pregnant, worse then that was the fact that my Parents seemed absolutely happy here in Australia. Who was I to ruin their life? They didn’t remember me and if I removed the memory charm then my Mum would be pregnant, and then what? Right now, I was parentless and Monica and Wendell Wilkins were expecting their first (or what they thought was their first) child. Who was I to ruin their lives? Even if I had created them.
As the realization that I would have to make a choice set in, I decided that I was not in the right state of mind to even think about making the decision at the moment. I finally stood up and on shaky legs apparated straight into my Hotel room, after nearly killing the elderly female room cleaner by fright after apparating in on her making my bed, I modified her memory and sent her on her way, I couldn’t help giggling madly and I realized I was in a mild state of shock. I really could do with a fire whisky, to steady my nerves, I thought. And with that I headed out of the hotel in search of a bar in which to drown my sorrows. After about one Appletini, one beer and four whiskeys I was feeling giddy and was more or less completely and mindlessly senseless, this was so uncharacteristic of me and I was DEFINITELY not myself, I was some crazy drunk, bushy haired wild child and one who was not perfectly stable at that. As I swivelled my bar stool around with difficulty because of the amount of alcohol in my system, I found myself face to face with the one person in the world who could make my day any ‘better’ than it already was. Draco bloody Malfoy.
A/N: R/R please, it makes all the typing worth it. :P
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