Disclaimer: I only own the idea, J.K. Rowling owns the rest
Summers With Hermione
By Sapphire1616
1991
Thomas Clarke nearly tripped over his own feet in his mad sprint through his backyard. He passed the large stone that normally acted as Mount Everest and raced beyond the tree stump that was his stage. He did not slow down as he approached the wide expanse of trees that separated his lawn from neighbors behind them. Rather, he sped up, so familiar with his path that no amount of twigs and roots could stop him as the trees flew by.
Eventually, he arrived at the beginning of a well kept, lawn. Thomas could not keep the grin that twitched at the corners of his mouth from spreading. With care, he knocked on the back door and took a moment to shake out the leaves from his blonde hair and smooth his shirt before the door opened.
"Thomas! What a surprise!" Mrs. Granger's curly hair was held back by a bandana, and it was clear by her gloves and her dirt-stained knees that she had just arrived from her garden. "Go right on up. She's just in her room reading."
He gave a quick nod, still catching his breath. "Thank you, Mrs. Granger." He managed to restrain himself until she was just out of sight, before sprinting up the stairs. His face was more than a little pink by the time he knocked on Hermione's white door.
"Come in!" Her voice was muffled by the door. On the floor, beside the periwinkle walls and flowing white curtains, sat a girl with lots of bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth. Her mouth hung slightly open in concentration on the book in her hands.
She looked up as the closed the door behind him. She gave him a quick smile, and made to look back down at her book to finish the page when she caught sight of what he held in his hands.
"You did not!" she exclaimed, jumping up and rushing over towards him.
With a satisfied smile, Thomas casually sat down and motioned her over. She kneeled beside him, getting a closer look at the large book in his hands.
"But it's not even out in stores yet," she protested while inspecting the cover artwork.
"My uncle works in publishing at the company so he got an early copy. I mean, it'll be out in a few days, but I just couldn't wait any longer."
"Well what are you waiting for?" Hermione asked in a sort of bossy voice. "Let's open it!"
Rather than arguing, Thomas opened up to the first page, Hermione reading over his shoulder. She just so happened to be the only person he had ever met who was as fast of a reader as he was, which was fortunate because he did not think he had the patience to wait at the end of every page with a book as enticing as this one.
They quickly lost track of time as large gleaming dragons came to life and old, wise mentors gave frustratingly vague advice. They took only a short break to stretch out their legs and turn on the lamp as the light coming in through the windows faded into sunset. However, when Mrs. Granger knocked on the door hours later, they had still only made it though half of the large novel.
"I take it this is a good one then?" Mrs. Granger commented after a moment of silence in which both Thomas and Hermione were too engrossed in their reading to hear her at the door.
Hermione nodded vigorously. "I think it might even be better than the last one!"
She laughed. "I didn't think that would be possible after you disappeared for an entire week a few months ago."
The tips of Hermione's ears turned pink. "I had to reread all of the other books before starting the new one."
"Are you staying for dinner tonight, Thomas?" asked Mrs. Granger. Noticing his hesitation she added, "I just checked with your mum, and she says it's up to you."
"Oh! Then yes please, Mrs. Granger." She smiled warmly.
"Sounds lovely. Why don't you two go set the table while I finish up in the kitchen." As soon as the door closed behind her the two buried their faces in the book once again. But once the chapter ended a few minutes later, they dutifully marched down the stairs and to the dining table.
"I never would've guessed that Rudy was the one behind the anonymous letters from the last book," Hermione discussed excitedly as she reached for the stack of plates. "I was so sure that was Freddie!"
Thomas started collected the silverware from the drawer below her. "Did you notice that everything Mr. Jeremiah said is starting to come true? He was right about the fire that burned down the library and the singing frogs!"
Hermione shook her head. "But that would mean Rudy would leave them to travel around the world, and we know that's not going to happen," she countered. "Plus, I don't think he was right about the library. All he said was the they would experience a great loss, and that could mean just about anything."
They continued to debate the book and make predictions for the remainder of the novel they had left to read. Thomas arranged left briefly to fill glasses of water as Hermione popped into the pantry for some napkins. When Thomas returned from his second trip balancing the waters, he found Hermione already sitting at the table.
"Your mum says we've still got a few minutes if we wanted to go back and read before it's ready," he relayed from the kitchen.
"I wouldn't want to stop in the middle of the next chapter. Also, I'm not sure I'd be able to stop if I started again." Suddenly, she gave him a sharp look. "You can't read it without me before tomorrow. It wouldn't be fair."
"I would never," Thomas promised. He couldn't imagine how terrible it would be to find out Hermione knew how it ended and spoiled it for her. It was an unthinkable crime.
"What would it be like? If dragons and magic were real, do you think?" she wondered out loud.
"I expect it'd be a full time job just to keep the rest of the world from finding out about it."
She shoved him lightly. "No, really. What would you do if you found a dragon in your backyard tomorrow?"
"I guess I'd find you, and we'd discover that we were secretly mages and then hide the dragon in the shed until it was old enough to fly us off on our quest." Hermione processed his words.
"What would you name your dragon?"
"Hugo," he answered without even taking a moment to think it over.
"Hugo? That's not a very dragon-y name," she decided. "Why that one?"
"Because Hugo's the one who first shows Freddie what magic is, remember?"
"Well he doesn't end up being very important later on," she argued.
He nodded. "But still, she doesn't get all excited about her dragon until he shows up. That's why," he explained.
She wrinkled her nose. "I still don't think that's a very good name, but okay." He was saved from further protested by the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Granger and their dinner.
"So, Thomas, do you feel ready for Royden in next week? Your last year and all," Mr. Granger asked while cutting into his chicken. Thomas was one year younger than Hermione, maybe more so as she was born in September and he in June.
Thomas nodded. "Yeah, there'll be a lot more people there. I wish you weren't going to boarding school though," he added to Hermione.
"That's okay!" she said brightly. "I'm sure we'll keep in touch. And I'll always be back for breaks and stuff. You can tell me fill me in on what happens to Cate the Great and her group." Thomas hid his snickering behind a sip of water. There was nothing Cate loved more than to tease Hermione about her books.
"Let's not gossip now, Hermione," Mrs. Granger admonished lightly, and they returned to discussing various schools in the area. They had looked at a few before settling on St. Elizabeth's, where she would be attending.
"Sorry, mum. But we've got a few days left, and the rest of the book to finish, so don't worry too much!" He nodded in agreement, but in the back of his mind he dreaded the gap that had already grown in their friendship.
After dinner, Hermione walked Thomas to the back door and handed him a flashlight to borrow for his way home through the woods.
"You promise you won't read without me?" she checked again, a hint of worry coloring her voice.
"Of course," he confirmed, and she smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow!"
"Bye, Thomas," she called back, waiting until he disappeared into the woods to go back inside.
1992
It was with both anticipation and anxiety Thomas paced around his room. Hermione Granger had already been home for a grand total of four days now, and she had not said one word to him. He knew exactly when she arrived, as he had overheard his mother on the phone with hers.
Was she avoiding him? They hadn't kept in touch as much as he thought they would. But then he was swept up in school work and making new friends and she was somewhere half way across the country.
"You really shouldn't bite your fingernails, you know," said a very matter-of-fact voice that come from the hall. He froze, and without meaning it to a small grin spread across his face. It was like she had never left.
"How was... St. Elizabeth's?" he asked hesitantly. She had been very vague about the details of her new school.
Hermione's eyes lit up. "It was amazing! It's so much better than I imagined!" Though it had only been a unconscious fantasy, Thomas realized with a sudden crushing disappointment that there was no hope of her leaving to join him at Notley year. They would not be new together trying to forge their way through and survive.
"What's it like living away at boarding school?" She thought for a moment.
"Well, there's not nearly enough supervision. But in some ways I think it was almost helpful. I learned to think for myself a lot. There's far more independence, but also more responsibility." She gave him a look as though she knew what he was really asking.
"Secondary school won't be scary, Thomas." He looked down, embarrassed. He always hated admitting weakness, even though Hermione was always who he sought after for advice.
"Yeah, I know," he mumbled, but she didn't seem to hear him.
"It'll be really overwhelming at first, you know. Just cause they're so many new people. And it might be hard. It was for me in the beginning." He might've teased her for trying to sound so knowledgable if he hadn't been hanging onto her every word.
"But it will get better," she continued. "I made two wonderful friends, and you'll make at least ten times that." Hermione smiled, and Thomas got the sense that they had become two very different people in their year apart.
Still, he returned her smile and ignored the feeling. "So have you read the new 'Dragon Trainers' book yet? The fourth one came out last week!"
"It did? I haven't really been keeping up with it. I don't think I even read the third one." Thomas just looked at her, dumbfounded.
"Who are you and what have you and what have you done with Hermione Granger?" He couldn't remember the last time Hermione Granger had admitted to not reading a book before he did. And not even caring.
"I've had quite a busy year," she argued. "And I was mostly doing homework during break, as you know, so I wasn't exactly paying attention to what Kathy Hanes was writing."
Thomas put his hands up in defense. "All right, I understand." The silence that followed was only slightly awkward, he decided. "So… Would you want to read it?"
Three hours later, he offered to walk her home, armed with a flashlight and the two books she was borrowing.
"I'll return them both tomorrow morning- oh shoot, I have a doctor's appointment. Okay, Thursday then. Thursday bright and early, I promise."
"Well I'd hate to charge you for a late book. I am a little short on money at the moment, and George did invite me to go into town with him on Friday…" She shoved him lightly.
"Some friend you are, trying to steal all my hard earned cash," she joked. "This books not worth that anyway. It's terrible."
Thomas gasped. "How could you? Sure, it may not be her best work, but let's not insult anyone here. You haven't even read the ending yet anyway."
"Whatever. Either way, you know I'll read them twice over by Thursday."
"Sure you will."
Though they did not go out of their way to climb the large rock they used to call "Mount Everest," Thomas did casually step up to the wide tree stump, Hermione gracefully hopping after him. Surely they did not need to grow out of all fun all at once.
"Are you ever going to tell me more about school?" Thomas asked suddenly. "I've told you all about Shannon and how mean she's gotten since her and Cate the Great have become best friends."
Hermione giggled. "I can't believe they got caught trying to put fake love notes in Tessa's locker! I bet they had a good time trying to explain that one away."
"Come one," he urged. "You've got to have loads of funny stories about St. Elizabeth's." She slowed, screwing her face up in concentration looking for a really good one. Not that she could top his, but she could try.
"All right," she said at length. "I've got one.
"So we've got this really horrid caretaker of the school, his name is Filch, and he's horribly bitter and rude and just awful to the students. Anyway, one night my friend Harry was sneaking out in the middle of the night to fight this bully who challenged him, but I tried to stop him. This was before we were friends, and I got locked out with him and our friend, Ron.
"Instead of finding the bully, we found Filch. It was a set up! We had to run away from Filch and ended up in the one room we're not allowed near, of course. It was a nightmare. I thought I'd be expelled for sure."
Thomas tried not to look too impressed. "Since when are you such a trouble maker?" he asked, surprised.
"Trouble maker? I don't think I could ever really break the rules. That wasn't even on purpose. I was trying to make them follow the rules. I've been trying all year, but they never listen." She shook her head in amusement.
"So what was in the locked room then?"
"Huh?" she said, as if she hadn't heard him the first time, but her eyes had widened just enough to make him doubt her.
"You said Filch chased you into the locked room. Where no one's allowed. Did you get a good look at what was inside?" he repeated.
"Oh! It was- Well, actually there was a huge dog in there. All chained up and scary looking. We ran away before anyone could get a good look, but dogs aren't allowed as pets, so it must've been some sort of secret pet, I guess." Thomas nodded, taking in the wild story. His tales of the Royden she had left behind paled in comparison.
But catching up had taken them all the way back to the Granger's, and it was time to leave.
"I'll see you Thursday, then," Thomas said, waving goodbye. She smiled and returned his wave, disappearing into the house. On his own walk back Thomas tried not to think too carefully about the inconsistencies of her story and how much she had changed in just one year away.
1993
"You're leaving?" Thomas couldn't believe it. He'd been so shocked, in fact, that he had stormed all the way over to her house and marched right in without knocking after overhearing his mother on the phone. Though Hermione and Thomas might not talk very often anymore, Mrs. Granger and Mrs. Clarke had not slowed their stream of afternoon gossip. It was how he received all his information on Hermione these days. Like the fact that she had fallen seriously ill twice this past year.
Hermione, for her part, looked just as shocked. Almost frightened. He supposed he might look a bit insane bursting through the door like this. He took a deep breath as Hermione tossed the book in her hands aside violently. It landed beneath her bed so he couldn't see what she had been reading. Not that he cared. He had more important things to be mad at her about.
"You're going to France?" he clarified, lowering his voice so he wouldn't scare her. He had grown half a foot in the last year and his mother said he startled her sometimes when she rounded a corner and his head was not where it should be.
"Yes," she sighed, her face deflating. "I've tried to talk them out of it, but they're pretty set. I don't think I can change their minds at this point." She settled back down and he joined her by the window.
"What will I do this summer then?" he wondered out loud. "I'm running out of books to read." She laughed.
"It's just for the holiday. I'm not moving or anything, don't worry," she reminded him.
"When will you be back then?"
"Mum says that I'll have a week back in London before school starts, so I'll definitely see you before I leave, I promise." She had never given him a reason to doubt her promises before, yet something about this one unsettled him.
He sighed. There wasn't much he could do about it anyway. He'd just have to suffer alone. "Are you excited then?" he asked instead of pushing further.
Her eyes lit up immediately. "Oh, I can't wait! I've been reading up on the history ever since they told me we were going. We'll be going to all the famous sites while we're there. It'll be fascinating!"
He laughed. "What about the museums though?" She scowled. She was never a big art person, to her father's dismay. He was the biggest art nut Thomas had ever met.
"Of course we're going to every possible museum in the entire city. Even the tiny ones that are just one floor. It's gonna be so dull," she whined. Thomas never understood how she could entertain herself for days with history fun facts and then be bored to tears walking through a hall of paintings. It made zero sense. She was a walking contradiction.
"We should do a joint family holiday sometime. Like we used to when we were little," Thomas suggested. Both only children, their parents had once had to force their friendship through lots of family activities.
"Remember when we all went to Disney? That was the best!"
He laughed. "You refused to go on every ride! All you did was take pictures with the characters."
"No! I got lots of autographs too," she protested. "And I did too go on rides. Just not the crazy, dangerous ones."
"You didn't even go on Space Mountain! It's like the best ride there. Even the little kids were going on that one."
"There's nothing to hold onto! And you can't see anything. How could that possible be fun for anyone?" She protested.
"It's exciting! You know nothing bad could actually happen, right?" And of course, she had at least three news articles to prove him wrong.
"No wonder you never do anything fun. I wouldn't either if I could remember everything bad that's ever happened." He knew he said the wrong thing before it even finished leaving his mouth. Her face fell, head dropping with it.
"Wait no! I didn't mean it like that. Come on, Hermione. You must know I'm joking. All we do is have fun together. You think anyone else actually still wants to read those old children's books with me anymore? Or go on adventures in the woods? They've all grown up too much. You're the only fun one left, Hermione." He said the words with such sincerity that she couldn't help but believe him.
She tackled him with a quick hug and jumped back before he could shove her off like always.
"Ugh, get off me!" He pretended to brush off the dirt and cooties from his shirt. "Gross."
"You better not hide away in your room all summer just cause I'm not around." Her lecture voice started to come out. He half expected her to point her finger at him with it.
"Calm down, Mum's sending me to sleep-away camp in a few weeks. I'll make friends, if that's what you're worried about."
She rolled her eyes. "Do you not remember-"
"Thomas!" Mrs. Granger's voice traveled from the bottom of the staircase up to Hermione's corner room. "It's your mother!"
"Did you even tell her you were coming over?" Hermione asked, throwing her hands up in exasperation.
"Do I ever?" He retorted. "She should just assume at this point."
"She says you have guests over." No longer shouting, Mrs. Granger appeared at the door phone in hand. His eyes opened to twice their usual size.
"Sorry Hermione! She's gonna kill me."
She giggled. "I'll see you later, Thomas!" And with that, and a little wave, he sprinted down the stairs, calling "Have a good holiday!" behind him. He didn't see her again that year.
1994
It was far too hot to be outside today, let alone riding his bike. His helmet trapped the heat onto his head, but if he pedaled fast enough the wind stopped the trickle of sweat in its tracks.
One day he would have a car and money and all the freedom in the world. But for now he would have to settle for biking to the grocery store in the center of their small town.
The sun burned in his eyes, and his back was aching from helping Peter move into his new apartment last weekend. Not fifteen minutes ago his mother was yelling at him to take his education more seriously (in the summer?) and be more responsible around the house.
So he didn't see her as he kicked the garbage barrel outside the store, and he didn't see her as he tied the apron on and dabbed the sweat away. He didn't notice her at all until he bent down to retie his shoe by the register.
"Thomas?" He shot up, smashing his head into the counter the computer sat on.
"Fu- Oh! Hermione? Hermione Granger! Where have you been all summer?" The words tumbled out too fast for him to even understand himself. "I don't think I've seen you since… Well, I guess since before you left for France." He faltered a bit. He was not nearly the same person now that he had been the last time they'd talked. It filled him with both sadness and pride.
She glanced down at her shoes, letting the awkwardness seep into the space between them. It wasn't entirely her fault. He'd made some new friends and slowly forgotten to keep in touch.
"I've been around," she answered vaguely. "Just doing summer readings and all that." As if her pervasive studiousness could explain locking herself in her room for a month.
He glanced down at the items he was scanning. "When's the big party?" At least three different cake mixes covered the conveyor belt, along with five sets of frosting in various flavors. And sprinkles. Lots of sprinkles.
Hermione colored slightly. "There's no party. Just my friend's birthday. It's coming up in a few days. I guess I went a little overboard."
"That would be a bit of an understatement." It always was too easy to tease her. But she didn't fall for it this time.
"Listen, Thomas-"
"It's alright," he cut her off. Guilt just didn't look good on her. "Your total is £11.86."
He tried to hand her off the plastic bag, but she just walked around the counter to face him directly.
"Stop avoiding me. I'm serious, Clarke." She stared him down fiercely. He may have ignored a letter or two over the past year, but to be fair he had been dealing with rejection from his favorite teen authors publishing magazine and being cut from track team and rumors of divorce in his house. Hermione was the last thing on his mind. Until now.
The old lady behind Hermione in line cleared her throat pointedly. Thomas swallowed nervously, looking between the two women both glaring at him.
"I'm not avoiding you right now, I promise. Just wait a minute." She quite dramatically stomped over to the bench on the wall behind him and crossed her arms with a huff.
Immediately after he helped that rather impatient old lady with no sense of compassion, Hermione returned.
He sighed, resigned to his fate. "You're gonna get me in trouble, you know that?"
"Don't I always?" She grinned widely. Somehow she did with her crazy schemes, and always without ever breaking a single rule.
"So tell me… Did you really punch the school bully?" When he had read her letter, Thomas was almost sure she had made the story up to grab his attention and get a response out of him. But it was true. She enthralled him with more stories each more exciting than the last.
"This Draco kid reminds me of Jimmy. Have I told you about how he nearly got arrested for selling drugs a few months ago?"
Her face clouded as she searched for the memory. "Wait, who's Jimmy again?"
Thomas' jaw nearly dropped. "Jimmy Reed? He dated Cate the Great that year that- oh, I guess that was the year after you left. I'm sure I can find a picture in the yearbook or something later. All you really need to know is his family's got a lot of money cause his dad works for AOL so he thinks he owns the school, especially now that they're giving us summer homework on his dad's program."
"What's that?"
"What do you mean? I know you get summer readings even at your new fancy school."
"Ha ha. You're so funny. I mean AOL." This time Thomas' jaw really did drop.
"How could you not have it at home? Everyone has it at home on the computer." That at least seemed to jog Hermione's memory.
"Oh right, sorry. That thing on the computer. Got it." Thomas was still skeptical as to how she could be so oblivious to what at least half of the conversations at school were about. But he continued on talking about Jimmy and the gripping tale of Cate the Great's downfall from popularity.
They were only interrupted seven times in the following hour and a half. The last time by his boss who told him to talk to his girlfriend on his own time. So Hermione finally left with a final giggle behind Mr. Wilson's back and with a promise to keep in touch.
1995
Wind whipped through his floppy hair, long overdue for a haircut. It, annoyingly, kept falling into his eyes so he was seeing through a haze of dirty blond strands. Until the wind picked up again and stole his breath away.
Still, he wouldn't have traded this last practice with the cross country team for anything. The boy sprinting ahead of him graduated last week and the one right on his heels would be moving an hour away at the end of the summer. So Thomas would take all the runs he could get with his team.
They were passing by his own street when he saw her.
"Gonna get some water. I'll catch up with you after the loop," he explained hastily to Carter before taking off past his house through the woods behind it, flying over tree stumps and nearly twisting his still tender ankle on a pile of poorly placed rocks.
He came to a sudden halt right at her feet and rapidly gulped air into his lungs.
"Thomas?" He raised his head from where it bent, hands on knees, as he caught his breath. She had grown again, but her face looked tired and stressed, like she had jumped ahead ten years instead of just one.
"I thought- I saw you. You- didn't say- you were back from- school yet." The words were interrupted by his desperate need to breath, but he was pretty sure he got his message across reasonably well.
She nodded listlessly. "I'm only home for the weekend, though. I'm just packing up and seeing my parents before I leave for the summer."
"When was the last time you came home for longer than a week?"
A thin smile graced her lips. "It's not that I don't miss it. And my parents and you. I just have more important things to do right now. I don't know how to explain it." Thomas thought he might understand. All his dad wanted to talk about these days was A Levels. He'd give anything to escape for the summer and pretend his future wasn't constantly in flux with each grade he received and each time he received on his races in meets.
"Do you want to talk about it?" She instantly frowned, and he was sure she was just going to go back inside, forever remaining a mystery to him. But she surprised him.
"I'm worried about my friend. Harry." The name sounded familiar. Hermione nearly always talked about Harry and Ron when telling stories of her new life.
"Is he okay?"
"He's got a lot of pressure on him right now. And Ron and I both don't know how to help him with it. And his friend died recently, right in front of him, and I know he blames himself even though it really isn't his fault. And everyone's saying such terrible things about him. Calling him crazy and attention seeking when he's done absolutely nothing wrong.
"And I don't know when my life got so many secrets in it. There are things I'm not allowed to tell him right now and I haven't told my parents any of this because they wouldn't understand and there's so much I still can't tell you even though I wish I could." She grew more hysterical with every breath, unshed tears lining her eyes.
"And I'm- I guess you could say I'm being bullied at school. Like when we were younger, with the name calling and everything. It shouldn't bother me like this, especially when people like Harry have much bigger problems. Oh, but it just adds on to everything else I suppose."
Without thinking too much about it, Thomas pulled her into a tight hug. He was sweaty and smelly and definitely not the hugging type- no matter how often she used to try to sway him. But she looked like she could use one, and he wasn't quite sure how to respond to everything that had just poured out of her.
He pulled away after a moment. "Sorry if- I was just on a run." As if on cue, he saw his friends coming out of the loop and back down the drive on which his house lived.
"You'll be okay. You're Hermione Granger. If things aren't working, you'll make them work."
"Thomas!" He heard Carter's voice calling for him.
"I'm sorry. I've got to go, but good luck with everything. I hope it works out." He started backing up as he spoke, warming up his feet and his legs to get ready to move again.
"Wait!" she called just as he was turning around. She looked much more like herself again, smiling as widely as ever. Except something about her teeth wasn't right. Were they smaller? "Thanks, Thomas. I'll see you around."
"See you."
He had to sprint to catch up to the rest of the boys and then remained at the back of the pack, too exhausted to push his way back to the front with his friends again. Still, he didn't doubt his detour was worth it.
1996
Hermione,
I know your friend is going through a rough time, but really. It's been over a year since you last answered one of my letters. You didn't even come home at all this summer. You're making me look silly, sending out all these letters and getting none in response. No one even writes letters anymore. It's all about the internet. That just makes me look even crazier.
But seriously, I hope your friends Harry and Ron are doing well. They sound like wonderful friends from everything you've told me. You're very lucky to have them, and they're even luckier to have you. That sounded far too sappy. I take it all back. You're a horrid friend. Send my regards to poor Harry and Ron.
As I'm sure you know I'm not a big letter writer. Especially not a long letter writer. But I'm making an exception this time. The thing is, my mum and dad are getting a divorce. Finally. I thought I'd be relieved that it's actually happened for real this time - they've met with lawyers and everything. But I don't.
Maybe it's cause they've been getting along so well recently. I don't know, it just seemed better this last year. And then they dumped this on me. I haven't told any of my other friends yet. Not that they'd be mean about it, but I don't think they'd really care all that much. I'm 15, and 15 year old boys all think they'll live forever and have no real problems other than girls.
Speaking of, my girlfriend broke up with me. I'm not sure if I ever even told you about her. Probably not because it's Cate the Great. Or was. After her downfall following the Jimmy situation she became a lot nicer. And she likes cross country guys so how could I say no to that. I never imagined we'd go out for almost a year.
Cate and I got along really well. We were good together. But she's decided she doesn't have enough time for a relationship anymore. She wants to focus on her education. I would be completely understanding of this if I hadn't seen her hooking up with Carter at the last track party.
The only good thing to come out of all this is that I'm writing more, though everything I come up with just sounds like a whiney kid who complains about everything. So basically it sounds too much like me. I'm not quite sure how to fix that yet. I've been too scared to send anything out since that time I tried to get published and failed miserably. Maybe if I wrote something I'm not embarrassed of for once I'd try again. Could be ages though, so don't hold your breath on seeing me in stores just yet.
I keep thinking about the last time I saw you and how different you were. I wonder if you think the same about me. I haven't noticed any changes in myself over the past few years, but sometimes mum says she doesn't recognize me at all which just makes me feel awful even when I don't think I've done anything wrong at all.
I know I'm rambling and that I should ask you more about your life, but you don't like to talk about it anyway. And I know that I won't ever send this letter to you anyway. Because I'm writing to the old Hermione. I don't even know who you are anymore. That sounded worse than I meant it. Maybe that's how mum feels.
Anyway, I guess I'm just on edge because strange things keep happening. Everyone says it's terrorist attacks or a new serial killer or people just don't make things like they used to and then they just fall apart. Imagine, blaming death and tragedy on consumerism. No one's really saying anything though, and no one wants to talk about it. You would know what's going on. I'm sure you do, and you just can't say. Just another one of your many secrets now.
So that's it. The world is falling apart and no one's noticed but me.
See you next summer,
Thomas
1997
"Well this can't be the wrong number. I've dialed four times, and I don't make mistakes." This was not strictly true, but he knew his mother was just trying to make a point.
"Granger. G-r-a-n-g-e-r. Look it up. Yes, I'll hold."
"What's going on?" Thomas asked, shoving crisps into his face with impressive speed.
"I'm trying to call the Grangers but it keeps getting redirected."
"Mabyehgobanuwfo" he mumbled through the crisps. She gave him an unimpressed look.
He swallowed and tried again. "Maybe they got a new phone." She hummed, not quite agreeing with him, as she began searching around for a pad of paper and a pen.
She pressed her hand to the mouthpiece of the phone and turned toward him. "Will you run over and see what's going on?"
"Now Mum, I'm a professional. I can't just run on demand. That'll cost you £20."
She yanked the bag of crisps out of his hands. "How about I feed you dinner, and you do it for free."
"Pleasure doing business with you, Mum." He grinned and started searching for his trainers.
Thomas brushed through the overgrown trees at a light jog. He was sure the small wood never used to be this thickly grown when he was younger. Weren't things supposed to get smaller as you grew older and taller? Mount Everest had definitely shrunk in perception.
At the edge of the Granger's lawn Thomas saw their garden more choked with weeds than he had ever seen it, which was strange considering how much Mrs. Granger loved her flowers.
The lights were off inside, and when Thomas tried knocking on their back door, the one he nearly always entered through, there was no answer. He walked around to the front and rang the doorbell. Still silence.
Peering through the window, Thomas could not see any furniture inside, and it was when he turned around to return home unsuccessful that he saw the "For Sale" sign posted on the front lawn.
Thomas walked back slowly, thinking it over. He hadn't heard from Hermione in two years. For all he knew they'd been planning this for months and it had just slipped his mother's mind in the midsts of signing divorce papers and dividing assets.
He returned just as she was hanging up the phone, a new phone number a hard won prize in her hand.
"I thought I paid for a runner. Not for you to drag your feet behind you." He might've laughed, if he weren't so confused.
"I think the Grangers have moved. There's a 'For Sale' sign in their front lawn, and the gardens a mess, and their house is totally empty. No furniture or anything." He must've looked stressed cause she started brushing his hair back with her hand.
"They definitely moved. The number that guy gave me was for Australia. But they never said anything to me, which is so surprising. It's not like them at all." She paused, pulling away from him for a moment. "When you say there was no furniture, you didn't break into their house or anything, right Thomas?"
"Have a little faith, Mum."
"Right, of course. My bad." She resumed petting him, but he didn't have the energy to swat her hand away. He was still in shock.
"Did you say Australia?"
She nodded. "I didn't realize it's been that long since I've last seen her. The whole thing is just so strange."
"I haven't heard anything from Hermione. Not that we've been keeping in touch recently…" He thought back to his unsent letter as she nodded sympathetically.
"I don't think I've been reaching out as much as I should either." She sighed. "It's just not like Ruth to pack up and leave like this. Without saying anything. I never imagined her to just forget us like this. You know Mrs. Granger, she never forgets a birthday, or a face for that matter." Underneath the confusion, Thomas could hear hurt in her voice. No one liked to be left behind.
"I'm sure she'll write. And with a crazy story about her new neighbors and how she ended up there." His mother chuckled lightly. "And some horror story about the dangerous bugs there attacking her personally."
"I bet her garden will be the only one not dying in the sun and make everyone jealous," she added.
"I can't wait until she invites us to visit her. I'm dying to see some kangaroos in real life."
"I hope they're having a good time in Australia."
"Me too."
19 Years Later
He knew he was going to miss his train the moment he woke up. Well, the moment he woke up the second time after blindly shutting off his alarm and passing out for another fifteen minutes. That was the price he paid for going out on a Thursday night. Not that Parent's Night at the elementary school was considered "going out."
Working as an editor had some perks, though, and flexible hours was one of them, as long as he didn't mind taking his work home with him. Not that reading could ever be a chore. So he wasn't entirely in a rush to catch this train. He had already resigned himself to waiting for the next one when he heard a voice.
"Thomas Clarke?" He looked over his shoulder to the busy street behind him but found no one. When he resumed his path, a movement caught the corner of his eye. There, across the train station, a woman was waving frantically at him. She was tall, wore a long black coat, and had a head full of bushy brown hair. He squinted. It couldn't be.
She pushed her way through the crowd of people rushing to get to their destination. He met her halfway.
"Hermione Granger. It is you," he said, astonished. He could not remember the last time they had spoken. "I don't think I've seen you since we were children."
She shook her head as decisively as she always used to, still smiling widely up at him. "It has been a while."
"How was Australia?" he grasped for the last concrete memory he had of her. "You moved there didn't you?"
"Only for a year. The sun didn't agree with me. Or my mother's garden." He laughed. "We moved back closer to London after that. Which works out well now so I can stay close to my parents and my job."
"Where do you work?"
"In government. Focusing on law." He wasn't surprised that she had stuck with her love of rules. "And you?"
"Editing. At a publishing firm. I get to read books all day long."
The clock sounded, and Thomas realized that, while he did not exactly have a time limit, he did need to get to work at some point today. And his gate was still a good distance away.
"Listen, Hermione. I'd love to stay and chat, but-"
"Oh! I'm sorry. You probably don't want to stand here and talk to me. I was kind of horrible to you back then, wasn't I? I didn't return any of your letters and then just disappeared and I-"
He cut her off before she completely lost herself. "Why don't we catch up sometime. I'd love for you to meet my wife, Cate."
"I'd like that." She smiled.
"Why don't you put your number in my phone." He rustled through his pocket searching for it while she hesitated, looking uneasy.
"Actually, why don't you give me yours. I'll find a way to contact you." So Thomas jotted it down on a scrap of paper, feeling rather silly, and handed it off. In the back of his mind he knew that they wouldn't end up getting coffee or talking again. She would disappear once more and forever remain a mystery to him. Somehow, he thought it might be better that way.
They said their goodbyes and walked away in their separate directions. Thomas glanced at his watch and wondered if he'd make the 9:30 train.
"Wait! Thomas?" He spun around. Hermione had chased after him. "Do you remember those books we used to read? The 'Dragon Trainers'?"
"Yeah, of course," he replied slowly, unsure of where she was going with this. She looked much less like a grown mother and much more like the eleven year old girl who would stay inside all day reading with him.
"What would you do if magic was real? Like from those books we used to read?"
He thought about it for a while, bringing himself back to the summers in which they had grown up together as children. And, with a faint smile, he knew his answer.
"I'd write a book about it."