Shock took her breath.

You will go and kill your muggle parents as a sign of your loyalty to me

In that moment she was so grateful for Theo’s arms that were still wrapped around her chest – sure that if he had not been there, she would have rushed at Voldemort.

“After all, your true family is right here,” Voldemort said as he turned to sit back on his obsidian throne, gesturing to the prone bodies of the Malfoys. “I will allow Lucius to accompany you for this task and will be requiring your memory of the event to ensure it is completed.”

Hermione did not reply, just merely stared at him frozen in terror.

“ Thank me for my mercy,” Voldemort hissed.

Theo shook her just slightly.

“T-thank you,” she rasped.

Voldemort merely stared at her, his pointed chin slightly uplifted before he snapped his fingers in Lucius’ direction.

“Go now,” he said.

Slowly Lucius made his way to his feet. She could see the small tremors still moving through his limbs as he crossed the small distance to her, pulling her into his arms. Theo released her right before there was the sickening pull of apparition and the putrid stench of death was cleared from her senses.

When they landed in the small park close to her parent’s home, she clung to Lucius. The summer breeze was cool on her wet face, the salty brine of the sea gliding over her as it ruffled her hair and pulled back her hood.

“Please, Lucius, please I can’t do this. I can’t kill them, please, please don’t make me do this.”

Lucius shushed her, drawing her closer and sliding a hand over her hair.

“Then you won’t,” he replied so softly she wasn’t sure if that was truly what he’d said.

“I can’t do this,” she said. “I can’t. I can’t.”

He rocked her as they sank to their knees onto the grass, continuing to shush her wordlessly.

And she meant more than just that she couldn’t kill her parents. She meant that she could no longer continue down this path – she could no longer serve the Dark Lord. There was no reality in which she was now anything but a pawn – a monster serving a monster.

Lucius seemed to understand what she was and was not saying, his grey eyes boring into hers.

“You can’t what, Hermione?” he asked clearly, as if he needed to hear the words aloud.

She spoke without counting the cost.

“I can’t do this anymore, Lucius. I can’t… not after… I can’t keep serving him after… not after…” she gulped, choking on air as it caught in her lungs.

His face softened and he nodded as if these were words he’d been waiting to hear.

“Hermione, listen to me. There is another way,” Lucius said slowly, articulating every word so she could understand it through her panic.

“A-another w-way?”

He nodded, brushing the hair from her wet cheeks.

“Are you willing to let them go, to give them up if it means they will be safe? If it means they will live ?”

She didn’t hesitate.

“Of course.”

Lucius nodded, pain crackling along his face as his thumbs brushed her cheeks.

“We will send them to another country,” he started before she cut him off.

“ No , he’ll find them.”

“No, he will not,” Lucius said with a shake of his head. “We will modify their memories; they will have no recollection of their life here…”

His voice trailed off as his eyes grew glazed with tears. She had never seen him like this – so emotional, so overcome with grief.

“When you say they’ll have no recollection…” she said softly.

Lucius’s hands clutched her even more firmly, as if he was trying to ground her.

“I mean that they will have no memory of you,” he replied in a gentle voice. “It is the only way. Then, we will create a false memory of the murder to satisfy the Dark Lord.”

She blinked at him.

“How – how is that possible? He’ll see right through it.”

Slowly, Lucius let her go, sitting back onto his heels.

“He will not. If he did, I would not be alive right now. Nor would Draco, Severus, Theodore, or Blaise.”

Confusion swept through her.

Do you trust me? Lucius had asked.

I trust you . She’d replied.

Then trust me – trust us.

“You haven’t been killing the muggleborns…” she said softly.

Lucius gifted her with the smallest of smiles.

“No, we have not. We have been using illegal portkeys to send them to safe houses in France and Spain where both I and Blaise – as head of his house – hold property. We have set up similar houses all across the world in the last few weeks, as a matter of fact, in places like America, Japan, Australia, and the Netherlands. Then we create a false memory and typically set fire to whatever building we raid.”

“Why? Why have you done this?”

“Because, just like you, I found a line that I could not cross. Not after knowing you, not after loving you like the daughter I never got to keep.” Something shimmered in his eyes. “I couldn’t kill them, no matter their blood status. Couldn’t look at them without seeing you. Draco, Blaise and Theo agreed, though I made them take a wizard’s oath not to tell a soul.”

“And Snape?”

Lucius’s eyes closed for a small moment, before opening again.

“Severus has his own reasons for his refusal to hurt muggleborns or muggles.”

Hermione took a deep, shuddering breath.

“What do you want to do?” Lucius asked.

It truly didn’t feel like a choice if it was between her parents dying at her hands or surviving with no memory of her. Of course she would choose the latter no matter how much it burned her up inside. Even though she’d felt like she had just gotten her parents back in those last few weeks.

And now they would never know her again. Never have any recollection of a daughter.

“We will… send them away,” she finally got out, tears clinging to her lashes and refracting the light from the nearby lamp post.

Lucius nodded, helping her to her feet as they began the short walk down the familiar street to her parent’s home.

By now it was early in the hours of the morning and Hermione could hear the distant sound of birdsong in the trees against the blue-black sky. They rounded the small gate in front of her childhood home and Hermione charmed the door to unlock wordlessly, the hinges giving a faint groan as it swung open.

“Mum? Dad?” Hermione called loudly to get them to wake. “It’s Hermione.”

She called a few more times before there were the sounds of movement on the floor above and a light flicked on. Her father was the first to come down the stairs, wrapped tightly in a dressing gown. His eyes were wide as he looked at her, her face tearstained and splotchy while the golden snakes on her Death Eater robes gleamed slightly in the stairway light.

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” her father asked, looking between her and Lucius.

“David,” Lucius said calmly. “Do you remember the letter I sent you last year?”

The letter? Hermione wondered.

But her father only nodded.

“I do, Lucius, yes.”

Lucius stepped around Hermione, moving towards her father.

“Then believe me when I say that it is no longer safe for you and your wife here.”

Her father did not argue, did not ask questions, merely looked up towards the top of the stairs where her mother stood, wrapped in a thick terry cloth bathrobe and gave her a nod as she slowly descended the staircase.

“We understand,” her mother said. “Where will we go?”

Lucius looked around the room before settling on a chipped souvenir mug from one of their Christmas holidays before Hermione had gone to Hogwarts. It was dark blue with music notes etched onto the surface around a drawing of the Sydney Opera House. He tapped it rhythmically seven times until the cup glowed a deep blue.

After giving Hermione a meaningful look, she reached forward to place a finger upon the cup while her parents, after a confused look at one another, did the same.

“Australia,” he answered, right before the tug behind her navel pulled them all away.

…

Lucius’s port key had taken them to the steps of a simple three bedroom townhouse on a quiet residential street of Sydney. The winter sun beat down upon them in a way that was jarring to Hermione after the darkness of the warm summer night.

Though the house was modest from the outside, Hermione could see that it was modern and renovated inside – as well as the fact that it was all completely muggle.

“Wow,” her dad said as they stepped inside, looking around the fully furnished house. “This is impressive, Lucius.”

“Thank you, David. Narcissa and I tried to prepare for any eventuality.”

Hermione turned to him.

“You thought this might happen?” she asked quickly while her parents wandered into the large kitchen ahead of them.

Lucius nodded

“It was only a matter of time before the Dark Lord asked you to sever all ties with the muggle world, Hermione,” Lucius said softly. “I have similar houses – stocked with clothing and supplies – in many major cities across the globe much grander than this, just in case he were to go looking. This house, in fact, is under Severus’ name.”

“So… we don’t need to obliviate them?”

A sad look crossed his face before he pulled her into a hug.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But we have to, if not they run too much of a risk of being used against you. This way they would never be suspected, never found or put in danger.”

Hermione had known before she’d asked what his answer would be, but it didn’t make it any easier.

“I understand…”

“Hermione! Look at this garden!” her mum yelled from the kitchen.

They made their way into the kitchen where Jean stood at a large picture window overlooking the backyard. There were rows of bushes that appeared to promise many rose blooms in the summer mixed with wildflowers and a few shady trees.

“I’ve always wanted to garden,” her mum said softly, reaching to pull Hermione into her arms. “Perhaps now I can.”

“I’ve always wanted to bake,” her dad said, looking around the kitchen appreciatively. “Maybe this is the start of something new. How does that sound, kiddo?”

Both of them turned to her expectantly and something twisted deep within her chest at the realization that they thought she was going to stay with them. It hurt more than the cruciatus curse, more than any hex or jinx or betrayal. It hurt somewhere deep within her soul that she was sure would never heal.

But gods , wouldn’t that be beautiful? To get to start this new life over with her parents? To get to stay with them, away from the horror and bloodshed of the war?

Of course, she couldn’t. There were people out there she needed just as much as her parents. People that needed her help.

Draco.

Theo.

Blaise.

Narcissa.

Pansy.

Harry.

Harry… she thought again. After tonight it was clear that there was no going back for her. There was no way she could continue under the Dark Lord’s regime. From what she understood from Lucius, he and the others had already been acting with the Order whether directly or indirectly and perhaps she could join in that fight.

Perhaps she could redeem herself in that way, by ensuring that the Order would win.

So she smiled at her parents as she watched Lucius raise his wand behind them and nodded.

“I think that sounds lovely,” she replied, tears gleaming in her eyes as a bright light filled the room.