DISCLAIMER: Unfortunately, I am not JK Rowling and therefore I cannot claim to own any of this...

Tahi

July 5, 1997

Twenty-two hours, twenty-seven minutes, forty three seconds…

The world was slowly spinning around her in an intense haze as she forced her mind to remain focused on the present situation.

Dark…light….dark….

A splatter of rain fell from the heavens above, crashing into her forehead with a thundering echo as she stood up straight in the gloomy landscape of the dark forest.

Light…dark….light….

The trees moved with the wind, swaying in an erotic fashion. Rain, crystal droplets, fell slowly to the hard ground, some catching on a leaf where it hung precariously for a second or two.

Dark…light….dark…

The moon in all its spectacular glory peeked every now and then between the trees as they moved, casting just a slimmer of light on her every now and then. Her eyes blinked against the light.

She wanted darkness…she craved it…she needed it.

Cries filled her ears as she stared into the distance, her eyes empty. Tears no longer lingered in her eye. She had cried her last tear.

Light…dark….light…

Too much. Sometimes it was just all too much. The line between dark and light seemed hazy as did the rest of the world at that moment.

Her knees bent as she slowly collapsed once more to the ground beside of the large oak. She curled them up close, hugging them to her body as she leaned her head back against the rough bark, watching the play of the light through the trees.

Dark…light….dark…

Why was everything judged in light and dark? she wondered as she sat there quietly. Was there no shade of grey where one could easily slide into? Was there no median?

Light….dark….light….

No, the world would never see it like that. You were evil good, light, or evil, dark. They didn't see the in betweens, the ones who straddled the imaginary line drawn.

Empty vessels stared at the dark green plants as the rain started to fall in heavier sheets upon the forest floor. Her hair started to stick to her face, her body shaking involuntarily.

Numb.

So numb. What had happened?

AmAyAtHeGrEaTlOvEsSpAgHeTtIoS

July 4, 1997

Hermione Granger sipped at the camomile tea her mum had just placed in front of her while her parents flittered nervously about in the house. Sometimes they would pause and look at her for a moment before quickly moving on.

She had just arrived home after spending a whole two hours trying to pry information out of Falco, but he wouldn't give her any. He informed her that if she wanted to know anything, she was to find it out herself.

At the moment, she hated him.

She had gave her parents the brief summary of what had occurred during the past few weeks at Hogwarts and what was going to be expected of her. They didn't like it, she knew that very well, but they accepted it.

She glanced at her parents warily. So far, none of them had broached the topic. Most likely because if it wasn't talked about then it wouldn't happen.

She knew otherwise.

Soon, very soon, she would have to leave and she probably wouldn't return for a long time…if she even returned at all. She was in a war.

She set the tea down on the table beside of the chair and sighed loudly enough to get her parents attention. They both turned, dread in their eyes, and slowly took a seat.

"I know this is difficult for you both," Hermione began slowly, "and it's difficult for me as well, but it is my duty to do this." She looked at them pleadingly. "I have to do this."

Her mum moved forward to grab her hand. "Hermione, dear, you're only seventeen. You shouldn't be asked to do this. You're still a teen, you should be out there enjoying life. They shouldn't expect you to risk your life."

Hermione smiled slightly as she stared into her mother's eyes. "That's the thing, mum. They don't expect it of me, but I need to do this. It's for Harry, mum. He needs me."

There were tears in her mum's eyes as she stared at her daughter. She squeezed her hand a few times before dropping it suddenly and standing, turning her back away from her as she strode quickly to the window.

"Mum," Hermione pleaded softly but Ann held up a hand to stop her. She hung her head slightly as she waited for her parents to say something…anything.

"Hermione," her father started as she shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "you are my baby girl, you always will be." He ran a hand over his face. "I don't think I can ever give my blessing for you to go off and try to get yourself killed if that's what you're asking for."

"Dad, it's a war, I don't know what is going to happen." She stared straight at him, her eyes connecting with his. "But I do know that I can't let Harry do this alone. I'm his friend and he needs me. I'm not asking for your permission or anything else."

He sighed. "You're determined to do this, aren't you?"

Without hesitation, she answered, "Yes."

Mike stood from his chair as well and went to stand behind his wife, placing his hands on her shoulder. He leaned down and whispered something in her ear that Hermione couldn't hear, but she could tell by the stiffening of her mum's spine that she didn't like it.

"Mike," her mum started with an exasperated sigh as she turned her head slightly to look up at him.

"No, Ann," he interrupted quickly. "Don't argue with me on this. You know I'm right."

Hermione waited patiently while her parents conversed with each other. She knew that she most likely wouldn't agree with what they decided, but she knew they didn't agree with what she had decided.

That made them about even.

Finally Mike turned, making Ann come as well when he walked back to the couch to take a seat in front Hermione. They looked at each other for a moment before turning to their daughter.

Mike took his daughter's hand. "Hermione, you know how we feel about this but we also realize that we can't stop you if you're determined to do this. We just want you to promise us that you'll stay safe."

She looked at them sadly as she responded, "I'm afraid I can't promise that. It's a war, no one can predict what's going to happen. It is a possibility that I could die."

Ann drew in a sharp breath and covered her eyes with her hand, her other hand clutching desperately at her husband's. She drew in a few deep breaths before finally calming.

"Hermione," her father started but she quickly interrupted.

"We both know that even if I don't enter this war that there's a chance I'll be killed. They hate me simply because I'm a muggleborn and I'm Harry's best friend. That's enough to put a price on my head. So, I figure if I'm going to die, I might as well be doing something to help the Light side win, right?"

They looked at her, unsure of how they should answer. They were her parents and they really didn't want to think of her dying either way and so they remained silent.

Hermione leaned back in her seat and ran a hand through her hair. "Look, I didn't come here to argue with you over this decision. I just wanted to spend a day or so with you before I have to leave to go meet Harry and Ron."

They stared at her for a moment before nodding slowly in agreement. They knew this was important to her and, in truth, it was important to them too. They didn't know when they would be seeing her again and they only wanted happy memories before she left.

Ann stood and engulfed Hermione in a giant hug, squeezing her tighter than usual. Hermione returned it though with vigour, savouring the feel of being in her mum's arms.

"I love you," Ann whispered into her hair.

"I love you too, mum," Hermione responded, smiling brightly.

Mike smiled at the two of them. Yes, they would be separated but they would always have the memories. That was the important thing.

Or it appeared to be at that moment.

AmAyAtHeGrEaTlOvEsSqUiRrElS

The clock in the hall struck eleven as the laughter slowly died down in the sitting room of the Granger household. Three people sat around the large coffee table with a book filled with embarrassing pictures in front of them.

The one they were looking at was a picture of a previous Halloween when Mike decided to dress up as a giant pink flamingo. He looked…ridiculous.

"What possessed you to dress up as a flamingo?" Hermione finally was able to ask when she regained the ability to speak. She was still smiling brightly.

Her father shrugged. "I lost a bet."

"A bet?"

He nodded. "Yep. Do you remember Mark Harper?" Hermione nodded. "Well, me and him were betting on the results of this one football game and I lost…big time."

"You do realize how ridiculous you look?"

"I think that was the point," he said as he quickly turned the page. "Ah, now here is a good one."

The picture in question was of Ann and Hermione when she was only four. They were in the kitchen baking and Hermione had flour all over her.

"Oh Merlin," she said, her face red with embarrassment. "I forgot all about my bad cooking skills. Thanks for reminding me."

"What? You've improved," Ann told her but at Hermione's sharp look, added, "a bit."

"Yeah, I can now boil water without burning it. Oh joy," she said sarcastically causing her father to chuckle and her mother to roll her eyes dramatically.

"I remember the one time when you were six and you were determined to cook your mum a mother's day breakfast," Mike started and Hermione groaned loudly.

"Please dad, let's not rekindle bad memories."

"Wait a minute," Ann spoke up, "I don't remember this. What happened?"

"The reason you don't remember is because I convinced dad at the time that you didn't need to know," Hermione said quickly, shooting a look at her dad which he ignored.

"Well, Hermione snuck into the room and begged me to come and watch her while she made breakfast," Mike explained. "Well, I agreed even though it was four thirty in the morning. I probably wasn't the best supervisor at that time."

Ann scoffed. "Hardly. You almost fall asleep in your oatmeal."

"Anyway, she was mixing stuff together to make pancakes, stuff that you probably don't even want to think about. The batter was this dark orange colour and smelled horrendously." He paused. "And then she poured it into an skillet before I could stop her."

"Oh my," Ann said, stifling a laugh.

Hermione moaned and covered her beet red face with her hands. "Not funny."

Mike was laughing at this point. "The whole kitchen was filled with thick black smoke and this putrid smell. The batter was bubbling as it burnt. I had to buy you a new pan and it took me nearly two hours to remove the smoke and smell from the kitchen."

Hermione shook her head while her parents laughed. Really, she never claimed to be a five-star chef, actually, she never even claimed to be a one-star chef.

But she tried.

"Next picture," she called but before she could flip the page, there was a commotion outside of the house. With a frown, she stood and walked over to the window, her face immediately growing ashen.

"RUN!" she cried frantically even as she turned from the window.

The explosion came too quickly.

Shards of debris flew at them, striking them. Ann was struck in the head with a particularly large piece, causing her to fall to the ground. Mike shoved Hermione into the shadows before running back to his wife.

He checked her pulse before turning desperately to his daughter. "Hide," he ordered, his voice stern. "If you get the chance, you have to run. Take refuge in the old hideout and don't move."

"But dad…"

"Hermione, go!"

With one last glance in his direction, she moved a small cabinet forward and squeezed herself in behind it. She was able to see a small section of the sitting room but she knew they'd be unable to see her.

Footsteps…

Many footsteps thundered into the house and she knew that there was no hope for her parents at this point. Hell, she didn't even know what her chances were.

She never even said goodbye.

"Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Granger, what a pleasure to finally meet you."

She never thought it possible, but her blood ran ice cold at the sound of that voice, one she had only heard once before and that was only briefly.

Voldemort.

"I've been watching you for a while now," he continued, "but I wonder where your daughter is. I know she is in here somewhere."

Hermione scooted a little, trying to hid herself in the darkness. She would die if he found her, but she didn't know if she'd be able to sneak away.

"Who are you and what do you want with my daughter?" Mike Granger demanded. Hermione was proud of him. There was no fear in his voice.

"Well my good sir, I am Lord Voldemort, future ruler of both the wizarding and muggle world." There was a pause here in which Hermione strained to listen to what he said next. "As to what I want with your daughter, well that should be obvious."

"I won't let you kill her!" her father cried.

The Dark Lord laughed sinisterly. "My dear man, do you really think that you could stop me?" The Death Eaters laughed with him. "Besides, whoever said I wanted to kill her."

Her mind shut down automatically as she felt the coldness enter the room. His mind was sweeping the house for her, searching. His mind called to her…

"Come out, Hermione! I know you're here!"

Her body started to shake slightly. Fear was gripping her, controlling her. She must stay put, though, she must fight the fear…

"Don't make me kill your parents, Hermione. Come out and surrender yourself to me and I will spare your parents. How does that sound, hm?"

Her legs started to move on their own accord when she heard her mum start to whimper as she regained consciousness. No, she knew he was lying to her. He would kill them anyways.

And then he would kill her.

"You're sentencing your parents to death, Hermione. Just come out. I have no interest in killing you, actually quite the opposite. This is your last chance."

Silence.

Hermione shut her eyes and steeled herself. She would not, could not move. Her place was beside of Harry for the end of the war and to do that she had to stay alive.

"Very well, Hermione, you're forcing me to do this. Crucio!"

Never had she heard a more chilling sound than the sound of her parents screams as they were mercilessly hit with curse after curse. Silent tears fell from her closed eyes as she wrapped her arms tightly around her. Her body shook slightly.

Finally, silence.

Dead, she knew her parents were dead. The two-word curse was whispered twice by the vile man and she knew her parents were on the receiving end.

"You forced me, Hermione!" he called. "I would have spared them like a merciful lord if you would have just surrendered yourself to me!"

She opened her eyes and slowly looked around her at his lie. There was a small hole in the wall that she could crawl through into the next room. Her dad had installed it right after purchasing the house for her to play in. From there she could escape through the window.

It was worth a shot, she reasoned as she started squeezing herself into the tight space. She had very little room to move and yet she knew she had to be careful to not making any noise that could give her away.

"You cannot escape me!" he yelled suddenly and she quickened her pace. She heard him instructing the Death Eaters to search the house thoroughly. She had to hurry….

She sprang out on the other side and hurried to the window. She could hear footsteps coming towards the window…towards her. The window was thankfully open.

She climbed out of the window and took off in a dead run towards the forest not stopping until she was deep within the forest. She found the hideout and collapsed beside a giant oak, the sobs finally escaping her body.

AmAyAtHeGrEaTlOvEsHeRbEsTfRiEnDkIm

July 5, 1997

It had been one day now and she continued to stay in the hideout by the large oak tree. She knew she should move, but she just couldn't muster the energy to do so.

Dark…

A small squirrel sat on the ground before her, turning a large nut over in its paws. The little beady eyes of the rodent met hers as it still in its movement before the bushy tail quickly disappeared behind a large bush.

Alone once again.

The moon still danced through the trees and the wind still blew slightly, stirring the leaves. The cries were starting to approach her now.

Light…

Brown eyes void of emotion stared at the small light quickly coming towards her. The light would be upon her in a few seconds…

"HERMIONE!"

The voice, sweet huskiness that stirred some foreign emotion within her, called to her. His voice, she knew it now, but why did she feel that way?

Arms wrapped around her, protecting her in a tight embrace. She savoured the safe feeling that swept through her at that moment and allowed herself to sink into the embrace.

"Don't worry," he whispered, "I've got you now."

"I couldn't save them," she muttered, burying her face into his neck. "All I had to do was surrender to him, but I couldn't…I just couldn't…."

He squeezed her tighter to him. "It'll be alright, love. I got you now. Everything is going to be alright."

As he lifted her into his arms, Hermione allowed herself to drift off to the sleep that had been eluding her. Only when she was asleep did her saviour take the time to study her, pressing her closer to him as she stirred slightly.

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he apparated them away.

A/N: In this part, there will be some romance! I promise! CROSS MY HEART!!!!!!

TWO NOTICES! READ ME! READ ME! IMPORTANT!

1) A friend of mine needs a beta for his story. There's quite a lot so you'll have to be dedicated. It's a crossover fic as well. Email or message me and I'll put you into contact with him.

2) I need a male writer (sorry ladies) to help me out with a story... I have an idea for a story but I need a male to help write at least half of it. I'll explain it. Please email me (email's on profile page) with a snippet of something and which OLDER HP male you relate to best...

Much love,

MiZZ AmAyA