She starts thickly, staring at the wall. "I wish I’d told my parents I loved them, and maybe come home for the summer once in a while. I always went to the Burrow," she explains, and ignores the lump in her throat as she pictures her parents, and how much they loved her. "I hated being a muggle," she admits, "I never fit in. I was strange. I did things wrong and weird, and I scared people. Once, when I was 6 and a half, I shattered four windows because some girls were teasing me. I was a bookworm, and academic to a fault, and no one else was. When my letter came, it was the best day of my life," and she smiles past the water in her eyes, lifting her head to stare at the ceiling, "I fit in somewhere. I wasn't abnormal, there were other people like me. I had a home. I was so excited," she describes, almost gleeful, remembering clutching her letter in her hands, hiding it in her closet and looking at it every night, seeing the Hogwarts Express for the first time, and Diagon Alley. A whole new world for her to explore, and learn about, and belong in. Her smile drops from her face as she remembers the next bit, "Then I learned I didn't fit in there either." She's never told Ron about this. Or Harry, or anyone. It would just isolate her more. 