What if in their seventh year Hermione agrees to help Harry clean up his room before their journey searching for Horcruxes and finds some old letters she forgot she had written to him over the years. Including some others from Harry she had never received…
"Thanks again for doing this Hermione. I really appreciate your help, as you can tell I definitely need it." Harry smirked, standing in the doorway of what was supposed to be his bedroom, but instead shared a close resemblance to remains left over from a tornado.
"It's really no problem, Harry. You needed to get it done before the end of this week so it's the least I could do." Hermione was sitting on Harry's bed sifting through some of his old school books lovingly, seeming as if it pained her to throw away any of the precious books from years before.
The trio were packing and preparing for their long journey searching for Horcruxes and Harry was the last to get ready. It seemed as if everyone's summer but his had been busy. Hermione had been spending all of her time with her parents before leaving them for however long it took them to find the bits of Voldemort's soul; going to her favorite carnivals, volunteering at her parent's dentistry office and still somehow managed to be fully packed within days of their decided mission. Ron was spending every waking moment with his family as well, to compensate for his mother's thorough disapproval of the excursion in the first place. This left Harry alone at his house, debating on the best way to make his departure from the last place in the world he would truly consider home. In that time he had somehow managed to make absolutely no progress in packing or cleaning up what little space made up his room. This was where Hermione came in.
Overall Hermione didn't mind at all being there at Harry's house, she even slightly enjoyed seeing more muggle items she was used to growing up with, like the TV in the living room and the microwave. Petunia and Vernon Dursley weren't pleased at all with the fact that Hermione was over at their house. Harry thought uncle Vernon's head was going to rocket off with how red it got, not to mention his reaction when he realized it was a girl who was staying with them for a couple days (Harry never did understand his uncle's confusion with the name Hermione being a boys' name). None the less, Harry had reminded them that Hermione was, in fact, muggle-born and that they'd never have to see him again after a couple of days, so Vernon grudgingly agreed.
Dudley's reaction however, was one that no one could have predicted. Even after his many disastrous run-ins with wizards in the past, it seemed as if he had a small crush on Hermione. When she first walked in, instead of Dudley's usual act of ignorance with anything concerning Harry, he was wherever she was at all times; always the first to offer Hermione snacks or drinks. Just that afternoon Dudley had asked her if she wanted to accompany him to the video game store, saying that when they got back both him and Hermione could try out his new gaming system (She politely declined). Harry wasn't blind, he could definitely tell that Hermione was a young woman, and quite nice looking at that, but to see Dudley act that way towards her was just bizarre to him.
Overall, Hermione was making herself at home, considering she had been there a mere 6 hours and was already being constantly badgered strangely by Dudley and glared at by Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Harry was just immensely thankful for her company. He wasn't sure if he could take another minute alone in his bedroom. Hedwig barely stayed around to occupy Harry's time; so instead he wasted time by looking through spell books and other items he thought would help with the Horcrux mission..
"Well, my aunt wants me to make dinner tonight," Harry informed Hermione who had just thrown away a particularly disgusting looking jar of an unrecognizable substance. "So, I'm off to cook dinner and then I promise after we eat, I'll come back up and help you clean some more."
"Sounds good." Hermione smiled, but instead of Harry leaving, he continued to stand there and watch Hermione clean out the rest of his school trunk. Hermione looked up to see Harry grimacing. "What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry, I just feel bad for having you come here and help me, and then abandon you to do it all by yourself." Hermione waved him off. "Harry, the last thing I want is for your Aunt and Uncle to be upset with you for not doing your chores days before you leave them forever. Especially just because you think I can't handle cleaning up a room."
"I'm not saying you can't-"Harry tried, but Hermione got up from the bed, managing to make a path through the many books and various items strewn across the floor and pushed Harry back out of the doorway. "Now, you just go and cook a delicious dinner and I will see you in an hour or so."
"But-"
"No, buts." Hermione smiled into his bright green eyes, Harry looking warily back. "Go!" And with that Harry made his way downstairs to the kitchen, smiling to himself.
Hermione turned back from the stairs and made her way back to the crime scene. She sighed with her hands on her hips, wondering where to start. She had already sorted through the many books from their previous 6 years and had sorted them into piles of which she thought Harry might need for the journey. (She secretly knew that he probably wouldn't take any at all but wanted to give Harry options just in case.) She noticed that there were quite a lot of items left in Harry's trunk. She walked over to the box and was both shocked and slightly disgusted to find that Harry had never really cleaned it out since his-to her horror- first year. Rolling up her sleeves, she dove in.
About a half hour in (and about halfway through the trunk) Hermione heard someone making their way back up the stairs.
"Knock, knock." Harry said, opening the door and surveying the progress. His searching gaze landed on Hermione who was on her knees with her head thoroughly inside the trunk. The book piles from earlier were still in place in front of his dresser and the mess of papers was still beside his bed, some poking out from underneath it. Harry smirked when he looked back at Hermione. "Not to diminish your claim that you can easily manage cleaning a room, but it looks like the mess is winning."
Hermione, emerging from the trunk, turned toward him sending a glare his way. "Well, besides the fact that I have only been cleaning for half an hour, you haven't cleaned out your school trunk since first year! First year Harry! Really!"
Harry shrugged. "Well, you see this dark wizard named, Voldemort, yeah he sorta kind a has been attempting to murder me every five seconds. So, cleaning out my-" But he didn't get to finish his sentence because at that moment Hermione grabbed one of the jars of the gross looking substance and was teasingly brandishing the oosing part while closing in on Harry, her expression mock-threatening.
"Don't you dare!" Harry warned, laughing. His hands were covering his face as Hermione continued trying to pour it on him.
"I'll show you a mess in a minute Mr. Potter!" She teased, making him back out from the doorway of his room and out in to the hall, the jar extended in front of her.
"St- stop it!" Harry plead, backing up against the wall right next to Dudley's room door.
"Still can't hear you." Hermione sang, standing in front of him with a bemused expression. He finally hit wall. Harry was trapped and she knew it. Right as Hermione was about to unscrew the lid Harry threw his hands up in the air. "I surrender, I surrender. You win! The room looks brilliant!"
Hermione stopped tilting the jar above Harry's head and looked at Harry's defeated expression. She couldn't help but burst into hysterics. When he saw that the chase was over, Harry quickly grabbed her wrists and spun her around so that her back was pinned to the wall; slimy jar still in hand. Hermione squealed.
"I've got you now." He announced, smiling at her in triumph. Hermione was still laughing out of breath and looked up, making eye-contact with Harry who was breathing heavily as well. Both of them, staring into each other's eyes, suddenly stopped laughing. Harry quickly looked away, clearing his throat and grabbed the jar.
"I think I'm going to take care of this er- jar myself." Harry said staring at his hands. "And how about you let me take care of my trunk and you just finish up the room so I can pack."
"Whew." Hermione said, blushing. "Thanks. I was afraid I might get lost in there." She teased, walking past him.
"Alright, I'm going to throw this," Harry lifted up the mysterious jar, "away and then finish dinner. See you in a bit."
He smiled and turned back toward the stairs; Hermione doing the same and walked back across the hall to Harry's room. With the trunk no longer something she was obligated to clean (She mentally thanked Harry again for that one) she went to take care of the papers strewn across the floor in front of Harry's bed. After sifting for a few minutes, she found that some were old school papers, some various drawings, (mostly Quidditch and various brooms), and then some old letters.
For awhile she maintained a rhythm, throwing some away, putting some in a keep pile, and some in the misc. pile for Harry to deal with later, until she noticed a few poking out from underneath his bed. Hermione reached blindly under Harry's bed, shocked to find that she grabbed quite a few letters. As she leafed through them, although she recognized some with a smile, remembering her childhood, there were a few she didn't. It wasn't like they were addressed to Ron and she had never seen them, but that they were all addressed to her but she had no recollection of receiving them.
What is this?