Nobody Cared

Nov 8 to Nov 10

8 Nov 1991, Friday, After Curfew

Hermione Granger had learned that once you were in Slytherin House and it was after curfew there was no way to leave without Professor Snape knowing about it. He had wards all over the entire House that helped him to keep an eye upon his Snakes. Since she needed, or actually wanted, to do research on ghosts and spirits, Hermione was determined to devote her entire weekend to the research.

That really wasn't the real reason for her slipping out just before curfew and before the wards were activated. Hermione hadn't told anyone, but she was certain that the Restricted Section would have a much more pertinent tome for her study. At least, that's what she hoped and since no one in the first through third year was even allowed to ask for a pass to the Restricted Section, Hermione felt she had no other choice than to disobey the rules. And, she hoped... dearly hoped, that the wards around Slytherin House wouldn't know she was gone.

Hermione slipped easily into the library and she was glad of her dark robes and that she wasn't full grown, yet. Staying to the shadows the bushy-haired Slytherin girl made her way through the stacks to the very back of the library.

The Restricted Section took up the entire wall at the back of the library. All the books, scrolls, and old parchments were behind shelves that were behind copper screening that had tarnished and had gone slightly green with age. As Hermione looked over the shelves she had to wonder why wards weren't put up to keep the students, like herself, from getting into the restricted material. Upon reaching for one likely book, she learned why wards were unnecessary.

Upon touching the heavy tome, Hermione felt a terrible spark arc out and sting her fingers. Simply reacting she dropped the lamp she was carrying that held one of her blue flames within it. The glass shattered, everywhere, and the little magical flame snuffed out. The lamp remains first hit a corner of the shelf, and then Hermione's foot and she let out a squeal.

"Who's there?" demanded a gruff voice.

"Merlin help me!" gasped Hermione under her breath. "It's Filch."

An ominous yowl sent Hermione running from the Restricted Section and darting through the stacks. A few times the shadows were so dark she clipped her hip upon a shelf or a desk. Even so, to her thankful graces, the door of the library wasn't all that far away and she was soon through it. Unfortunately, Mrs. Norris was right behind her which meant that Filch wasn't too far away.

Hermione quickened her run into a sprint, dashed up a nearby staircase, and found herself in a long corridor that had a slow, upward slope. A meow from Mrs. Norris only informed her that she was hardly home safe. With a stitch in her side, she increased her speed until she came out of the corridor.

Up ahead an ornate door slowly opened and without thinking about it, Hermione went through the door, and it slipped shut behind her.

Hermione's feet stopped abruptly right before she ran into... her parents.

Her mother smiled sweetly at her, proudly even, and Hermione let out a small gasp. Her father stood next to her mother and the pipe he always had in his mouth was gone as he smiled, too. The absolute pride and approval in their eyes was horribly painful. It was something she'd never seen before, yet she had always wanted.

Hermione rapidly shook her head. "No. You're not real." She scowled sharply. "I know you don't want me. Not anymore. I know it." She turned away from the mirror just as the Grangers shifted and changed. Unable to resist a perverse need to turn back Hermione spun round.

The little girl watched as her father put a pipe into his mouth and then reclined with his paper onto a worn out, dark green upholstered chair and a matching ottoman.