Hermione Granger's Last Words

April 14, 1982

                                                       
         I was just a twenty-two year-old traveling from Bradford, trying to get away from the dangers of Bradford. I hadn't gotten a job yet, as I had just gotten out of college, so I wasn't leaving much behind. My parents had died in a house fire when I was young and I didn't have any other family, so I was traveling alone. I had one foster brother that I liked, but I got kicked out of that home after I stole their gun and sold it. My name is Hermione but everybody always called me Mimi. I didn't have any money after college, which I payed for by working night jobs, so, of course, I was third-class. That meant I had bottom level room. My room was very simple and empty. It had a dresser and a bunk in it. I was actually fine with my room, though. It wasn't the best, but I liked the thought of being underwater and being able to breathe, if that makes sense.
       Every day I woke up at 5:00 to get a head start on the day. I woke up, took a shower, got dressed, read for a half-hour, then went upstairs and had breakfast. If I had any free-time from doing activities, I would read some more out on the deck. I didn't talk to anybody unless I had to because I felt that if I let someone get to know me they would start to understand me and I didn't want anybody to understand me or my thoughts, which is why I have never been in love. It was a lonesome boat ride, but I had a good time.
        Three days into the journey I started getting very  sick. I didn't want to leave my room, didn't want to eat, and didn't want to be on the boat anymore. I felt like I would die if I moved at all. What I didn't know was that I would feel the same way the next day. It felt like days before I finally felt good enough to leave my room again. When I did, which was only six hours since I would have gotten up, I went out to the boat deck and read my book for six hours straight. It was getting dark out so I went to bed.
         When I woke the next morning, I felt good. I woke up at my normal time and did my morning routine. I decided I would write this time, though, instead of reading. I wrote in my journal, in fact the same one I'm writing in now. I hardly ever wrote in it, maybe once a year. I still have the very page I wrote:
April 14, 1912 6:17 AM
I feel way better today than yesterday. In fact, I feel better than I've ever felt before. I have decided that later I'm going to ask one middle-class man out to lunch. I heard him talking to his mother about how he had just gotten a divorce. I just feel like he'll say yes. I'm going to do at tonight after dinner. His name is Ron and he has six siblings, five of which are on board right now.
April 14, 1912 7:00 PM
I decided I wouldn't ask Ron out yet, I would just talk to him. I asked him what he was doing here. He said, "Visiting my brother, Charlie. He is studying the mythical animal, a dragon, in New York City." I asked him more about himself and I have just grown to like him more. I am going to ask him on a date when we get to New York.
      I then went to bed. I didn't sleep at all though. I was up thinking about Ron and how I was going to ask him. I was just falling asleep when I felt everything  thing in my room slide to one end of the room, including myself. I got up to see what was going on and I saw everybody walking up towards the deck. I asked a worker what was going on but he said that it was nothing. I walked up to the deck to see for myself and found a big iceberg in front of the boat and pieces of ice all over the deck, which children were throwing at each other. The adults were panicking. I saw Ron and his mother and asked them what was going on. His mother told me that we had hit an iceberg and the ship was sinking. Workers had started putting first-class women and children into lifeboats. It took about ten lifeboats to get all of them off the Titanic. Women were crying, saying goodbye to their husbands and children were almost asleep, as it was already 12:00 AM. I saw some men jumping off the boat. Third-class was last to get on the lifeboats, of course, and there were only three-hundred lifeboats. When I started to feel the Titanic sinking, all the first and middle class women and children were on lifeboats. There were only a few lifeboats left so the boats were being stuffed as full as they could get. I wasn't sure if I would be able to get on a lifeboat and knew I could die. I was very scared. I got onto a boat safely, though. I got on the last boat left. There were some men on it also. We got a while out when I heard a shout from the Titanic, "The Carpathia is coming to rescue us!" The Titanic was breaking in half. I could hear the wood cracking. It broke and one end was going up, high in the air. I could see people sliding from one end to the other. I was scared that the rescue boat might not save my lifeboat and we would be stuck out there in the middle of the sea. Two hours later, I saw a big ship coming our way. Everybody was yelling and happy it was finally there. I got up and thanked God for letting me live. I boarded the Carpathia and looked for Ron, but couldn't find him. I hoped he was hiding somewhere, but I was very doubtful. I sat on the boat deck until we reached New York and thought about Ron and what had happened to him. The boat finally reached New York and everyone got off. After that, I got a job, bought a house, and lived alone my whole life. I never found what happened to Ron. I still dream about him. I always tell myself that he went back home and he is safe, but I know he's not. But I still keep my eyes open for him. It was seventy years ago today that I lost the closest thing I had to love. I doubt anybody would understand, thank God, how I could love him when I barely knew him, but I did. A couple of days ago, on the 10th, I was walking near Cunard Pier and I saw an old man. It was Ron and I said

Hermione Granger did not finish her sentence, as she had a heart attack. Her friend, Ron Weasley, killed himself the next day. We found Hermione's on her kitchen counter, along with an old, ratty book, The Tales of Beedle the Bard. It was learned that Hermione's parents were alive, but going by different names because they were forced to leave their daughter by a bad man. They died in 1936, going by the names of Wendell and Monica Wilkins.