Come Home With Me
Ron wasn't the only one whose family invited Harry to stay with them, welcoming him with open arms and unconditional love. Harry kept all the letters his two closest friends sent him—every last one of them. But his very first letters from Ron and Hermione were the most treasured of all (once he got them off Dobby in the summer before his second year). It was in the summer after his fifth year, when he still grieved Sirius, that Hermione sent him a letter full of heart-felt sympathies and practical ways to cope with his loss, including four words: "Come home with me."
Come home with me.
Hermione had always insisted her home could be Harry's home too, just as much as the Weasleys' was. Her parents were both dentists whom, at work, wielded fearsome machinery before the terrified eyes of adults and children alike, but were otherwise decent and loving members of the community. Surely, the Dursleys would approve of them. After all, both of Hermione's parents were non-magical folk, and at least knew the workings of the Muggle World much better than the Weasleys, who once had wrecked the living room of the Dursley home when they tried to get through their electric fireplace via floo powder. An unforgettable event with catastrophic and spectacular results to be sure, one that would burn forever in everyone's memories, but it did not help the Dursleys' fear and hatred of anything magical. If anything, this spectacular event that once churned in the Dursleys' living room had only served to deepen their prejudice against magical folk like the Weasleys and the Potters.
Come home with me.
Harry appreciated Hermione's well-meaning words, but he couldn't go to the Grangers' house, even for a short visit. While her parents were both non-magical folk, she was magical. Even if Harry fibbed and said she was also "ordinary" (oh, how extraordinary she truly was!), the Dursleys would demand Harry to tell them where she came from. Since he had no friends at his old school before going to Hogwarts, the Dursleys would see right through any lies about knowing Hermione at primary school.
The only other possible explanation would be Hogwarts, for Petunia and Vernon had never allowed him to socialise outside of school or home. They had not dreamed of allowing him near the neighbours, with the exception of strange old Ms. Figg with her numerous beloved cats. If they knew the Grangers had a magical daughter, the Dursleys would never allow Harry to stop for even a millisecond before their front gates.
Come home with me.
If he could, he would gladly have visited the Grangers' residence—he would have loved to see what Hermione's house looked like, what kind of person she was at her own home. He imagined her room being a paragon of orderliness with one big bookshelf lining a wall. She might have a desk with books, including Hogwarts: A History, piled on its edge, her wand laid carefully on top of the scholarly stack. Did she have photographs or posters on her walls? Or were the walls free of minute holes pierced in the paint by pins?
How welcoming was the front door of her home? Was the pathway kept clean, with autumn leaves swept away and dirt and twigs brushed to the sides? He imagined a well-kept garden out by the front doors, regularly kept free of weeds and dead plants. Someone would mow the grass every now and again, letting it grow for a while before mowing it down once more. He remembered Hermione talking about a birdhouse with a bright red roof and white wooden walls that stood in the shade of a tree in the back garden. Naturally, she could immediately identify what types of birds were there by their call and appearance. At night, she might hear the mournful cry or hoot of an owl, and guess with pinpoint accuracy which species it was.
But a question more compelling than a welcoming front garden—which did not always promise welcoming residents—was how friendly a home's inhabitants were to visitors. Hermione would naturally invite him inside on the spot, but what were her parents like? Were they like Professor McGonagall—strict and proper, but with a soft heart? Or were they more like Molly and Arthur Weasley—cherishing, demonstrative in their affections, and unconditionally loving? Or did they strike a balance somewhere in between—polite, but with an open smile and front door?
As long as he stayed with the Dursleys, he would never know the answer to these mysteries of the Grangers' home. One day, he would accept Hermione's invitation to her house, but not while he lived with the Dursleys. As long as he was under the fearful thumbs of Petunia and Vernon, he would never visit the Grangers' residence.
Come home with me.
But he always did go home with her every year anyway, ever since a friendship had sparked between them in their First Year at Hogwarts.
"Come home with me," Harry read aloud in a whisper, "But Hermione, Hogwarts is my home. And I come home with you and Ron every year."
They are my family and my home.