Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

...

Hermione sat in her bedroom as she watched the lights of the bustling city dance against the darkness of the night, her mind still completely fixated on the letter that she had written to Ginny. It had taken her much longer than she had anticipated, having to go through several of her mother's magazines searching for appropriate sections which she could use as resource material. Thankfully she managed to have sent off the letter twenty minutes prior to her mother returning from work, she wouldn't know what the woman would say if she saw Errol nibbling away while perched upon the tabletop.

Hermione had been thorough in her clean up however and she had not left a trace of anything that had been left out of the ordinary. That one word though was a difficult one for the brown haired student to use these days, 'ordinary' was something she had forgotten when she had started attending Hogwarts. 'Normality' was learning how to change a tortoise into a teacup or watching a sport comprised of students flying through the air. The sports based in London were much more boring in comparison, she hadn't had much interest in watching men kicking a ball around a pitch but she could rarely drag her eyes off of the seeker hunting down the snitch.

She had never thought about doing such a dangerous activity herself, although she didn't know how good she would be on a broom these days after having performed so poorly in her first lesson with Madam Hooch she hadn't even considered doing much more with the flying utensil. Arguably it had been a year since she had touched a broom but she could still recall the feeling of the wind in her hair and the joy she had felt being a handful of feet off the ground going faster than most London traffic.

A small smile crossed her face as she decided at that moment to ask Harry once they got back to Hogwarts if she could have a ride on his Nimbus 2000, although she felt like she'd have to promise that she'd not go too fast. She had Harry go at top speed on the broom but knew that she would be much too frightened to go at those speeds without a bit of practise first.

Refocusing on the topic at hand, she predicted that she would be receiving a letter from Ginny by Errol within the coming days provided the young girl had time to write without her family's knowledge. Other potential delays she considered would be another member of the Weasley's using their owl for another purpose or, heavens forbid, the grey calamity just up and died. While the last option was quite gut wrenching Hermione had to admit that it wasn't in the best of conditions.

She swallowed a lump in her throat as she silently prayed that Errol had made the return journey.

Then the greater question would be how Ginny interpreted her reply. Trying to fit into the younger girl's shoes had been difficult and the only real time when she had had a similar experience (or at least something remotely familiar) had been when she had been attacked by the Mountain Troll in the first year. She had been helpless against the giant beast, absolutely petrified and if it weren't for Harry and Ron (whom if it wasn't for the git she would never have been in that situation). Even now she could hear Harry's command, yelling at her to move to which she had done so without even thinking about it. The power he had emanated, she had little doubt that if Harry wished to become a prefect down the line he would be able to get the position easily and not just because of his history.

She could still remember him perched atop the shoulders of the troll, trying to control it like a rodeo bull while she quivered underneath a sink. The danger he had put herself in had saved her life and she could only contemplate at that moment what she had given him in return. She had gotten them out of trouble by lying to the professors there at the time and received what she hoped would be the only time she would be directly responsible for points being taken away from Gryffindor.

Then they had upped the ante by giving her something she would never have been able to give them; friendship.

It was that moment Hermione realized that she, like Ginny, had yet to pay Harry back for rescuing her life. For a moment she wondered if she owed Ron the same courtesy but she recalled how she had been the one to save him from Devil's Snare (which when she thought about it seemed like a stupid trap for anybody who had a basic knowledge of Herbology). Since then it had been a back and forth owing to and fro with Ron but not with Harry. Harry was always those few extra steps ahead and she didn't think of anything at that moment in time to how she could pay him back.

With troubled thoughts plaguing her mind, Hermione crawled under her blanket and placed her head upon her pillow knowing that sleep would not be easy to come by tonight.

...

Night had long since settled and nobody within the Burrow stirred other than the youngest member of the family, a lone candle illuminating her room. To ensure that her late night activities went unnoticed she had barricaded the bottom of the door with her dirty laundry to muffle the sound of her reading and block out the light. She was certain though if any member of her family went downstairs and by chance looked at the family clock they would find her name not under 'Fast Asleep' but rather 'Studying.'

If her mother or father were to knock on her door and intrude on her privacy she had already put her previous years textbooks atop her desk to convince her parents that she was revising. This couldn't have been farther from the truth as she was currently writing away at her reply to Hermione, having not trust herself to do it immediately after having read the girl's advice.

The main question though was what could she offer Harry that nobody else could?

Hermione had suggested to do something utilising the world that she and Harry had only stepped in to two years prior and show him something that he wouldn't discover on his own. She did have to admit though that this advice was much better than the advice her mother likely would have given her as she assumed Molly Weasley would have told her to knit a scarf or something personal. While that idea had crossed into her mind it didn't technically scream 'Thank you for saving my life.'

Ginny had opted to look at her eldest brother's studies, knowing full well that Bill had tackled some of the most difficult topics during his time at Hogwarts. Thus here she was, reading an a copy of 'International Magic:Wizardry of the World' which Ginny assumed Bill had used for a History essay. The topic had sounded quite boring externally but she had to admit once she had opened up the list of contents she was surprised to see just how expansive the world of magic really was.

She had opted to skip most of the oldest forms of magic that the book had to offer as Ginny severely doubted that she would need a blood sacrifice to perform what it was that she needed to create in the end. She had started on magic created a couple thousand years prior before an elongated yawn escaped her lips and VCCCCCuld do no good. As much as she hated to admit it she was still a young girl and would need her rest otherwise her mother would grow suspicious of her late night activities come morning when she arrived late at the breakfast table.

Blowing out the candle, Ginny allowed darkness to encompass her room as she strolled over to her bed, opening a small window as she did so as to allow fresh air inside. As she snuggled underneath her sheets she was oblivious as the wind flipped over several pages of the book she had been going through. Come morning she would both never be able to find where she had been and hardly want to look elsewhere.

...

Hermione sat within the confines of her room, not wishing to venture into the living room as her mother had the day off of work and was currently watching whatever mindless dribble was on the television. Hermione could barely stand the thing and stayed as far away from it as possible. The only time that she would be subjected to the 'idiot box,' as she had so aptly named it when she was younger, would be the news or an international sporting event where her father would forcibly tell her to support their country.

She still didn't understand why yelling at television within the confines of one's own home was meant to help someone hundreds of miles away perform better.

Whilst awaiting the startling thud which would announce Errol's arrival (she had a distinct feeling that the owl couldn't tell the difference between a window that was open and one that was closed) she had set about going through her second year Defence Against the Dark Arts books; otherwise known as Gilderoy Lockhart's biography. She had set about the dubious task of removing all of the useless content, which sadly consisted of a vast majority, to focus on what actually had been going on and what they could potentially encounter. Hermione wasn't superstitious by any means but considering that she had encountered both a troll and a basilisk during her years at Hogwarts (which only started the list of things which had tried to kill her or her friends) she wasn't taking any risks.

The book that they would be covering this year had been much more detailed on the Defence Against the Dark Arts topic that they would be encountering and had given a much detailed list on the magical creatures of the world that could give them some trouble down the road along with a brief synopsis of what to do in the scenario. While Gilderoy Lockhart hadn't accomplished the feats he had claimed to have by himself he had met with people who had and their actions were recorded within his tomes. On a couple of his quests she had to imagine that the former professor had cut out a lot of the boring parts as it would hurt his sales so she had to imagine what had happened during those periods.

Upon trying to decipher from his coding the best way to tackle a troll head on without having to pray on one's friends to rescue you, Hermione was startled by the thump against the window which could only mean one thing and she couldn't help but beam lightly as she turned her attention to find the identical owl from the previous day. "Hello Errol," she said as she opened the window and allowed the owl inside, giving it a scratch behind the ear for good measure before taking the parchment attached to it's leg.

Hermione took a deep breath before she unrolled the paper in her hands. The advice she had given the youngest Weasley had been as honest as she could have been without forcing unnecessary information down the young girl's throat. She had pillaged through many of her mother's magazines in order to get an accurate result before placing it in her own words and while she may have passed every essay with flying colours this was a whole different kettle of fish. She had no idea how Ginny would have reacted to her words and she could only hope for the best as she opened it up.

Skim reading through the compulsory introduction, Hermione's eyes became fixated as several words in the second paragraph stood out to the point where she couldn't progress any further until she had worked out just what they meant.

The Red Thread of Fate

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Peace