*Disclaimer: Harry Potter= J.K. Rowling's J.K. Rowling= Not Me*

A/N: Thanks to my awesome brother for reading this story up to now! Please review! I want your opinions. :)

As Harry, Ron, and I stepped through the barrier, we were met by a swarm of familiar faces. Everyone was there: Ron's parents, Fred and George, Mum and Dad, Remus, Mad-Eye, and Tonks. Despite the smiling familiar faces, the absence of one was glaringly obvious, and I could tell that it was weighing heavily on Harry no matter how pleased he was that everyone else was there. It wasn't fair. None of this was. Harry's circumstances up to now were most definately unfair—his parents' murder, his life with his horrid aunt and uncle, all his encounters with Voldemort—and now, once he finally had something like a dad again in Sirius, he was killed too. I hated Voldemort with a passion. At least the Ministry pulled their heads out of the clouds and admitted his return—the only good thing that happened this year it seemed.

After we were thoroughly hugged by at least half the people present, Mr. Weasley, Mad-Eye, Lupin, and Tonks took it upon themselves to insure that Harry had a decent summer by intimidating the Dursleys. I had to correct Mr. Weasley's pronunciation of telephone, but otherwise it went quite well. We all bid Harry our goodbyes.

After Ron promised that we'd see him soon, I added, "Really soon, Harry. We promise."

I could tell that despite the cloud of sadness and grief that still enveloped Harry, he appreciated that we were all here for him. He smiled, waved goodbye, and headed off with the Dursleys for hopefully a better summer than the last.

"Well Ron, I'll see you soon," I said, giving him a quick and semi-awkward hug before leaving King's Cross with my parents.

"Hermione," Mum said when we got into the car, "Bridget has been pestering us about you not responding to her letters and to let her know when you'll be home. You ought to call her when we get to the house."

"I don't care how immature this sounds, but if she values a boy over our friendship, I'm not talking to her," I explained.

"Hermione, dear, you need to talk to her. The two of you have been friends for so long. Do you you really want to risk that because of a boy?" Mum asked.

"That's exactly what she's doing! And it's not just any boy, it's Mike, the git who picked on me constantly in primary school."

"Now Hermione," Dad started to reprimand me.

"Dad, Mum, if she wants to discuss it with me, she can, but I'm not instigating conversation with her," I declared before pulling A History of Magic out of my bag and reading for the rest of the drive home.

When we arrived at our house, I took my trunk upstairs, let Crookshanks out, and began unpacking. This year however, I only unpacked the necessities like clothes, leaving most of my school supplies in my trunk since I would hopefully be going to either Ron's or Number 12 Grimuald place soon. It may be wishful thinking, but I don't think I can stand a whole summer home without having Bridget to talk to. Even though she is a muggle, she is– or was– my mate. As I was making a stack of books I would need to keep out on my desk, I heard the phone ring.

"Hermione, it's for you!" Mum called.

"Yes Mum," I called back and picked up the phone before even thinking who it might be. "This is Hermione Granger speaking," I answered.

"Hermione, gosh I'm so glad your back! Why didn't you ever write back? Did you not get my letters?" Bridget rushed out as if she only had thirty seconds to talk to me.

"Hello Bridget. Yes I got your letters," I responded stiffly.

"Oh come on Hermione, you can't still be mad about Mike! It's been a year! Don't be petty! He's changed really!"

"It's not just that you're dating that prat! I'm just mad that you didn't tell me that he asked you out let alone that you were dating!"

"Oh Hermione come on! I'm sorry alright! But I didn't realise that you needed to know every aspect of my life! I for sure don't know much about yours!" she ranted.

"Well I told you that I like Ron and about my other boy problems. We're still not dating by the way, and I don't know if he even likes me like that! So there! You know what the important stuff going on in my life is! It's not like I'm going to tell you every tiny thing that happens to me every day."

"Of course not! But I would like to talk to you more. Mike even said that he was sorry for what he did in elementary school, but you wouldn't even listen long enough to hear it!"

"Yeah well how long had you two been dating?"

"Three weeks," she mumbled.

"Exactly! You didn't feel the need to call or make plans with me so you could I don't know tell me? I shouldn't have had to practically force it out of you!" I exclaimed.

"Ugh, Hermione, I can't deal with this right now! I just wanted to talk to my friend who got back from school but apparently she hates me now. I've got to go. Mike and I have a date in a few minutes. Bye," she said and hung up without giving me a chance to respond.

I desperately needed someone to talk to—preferably a girl and someone who would understand, not just about the drama with Bridget but also to vent about my real problems like Voldemort—so I pulled out a quill, ink, and some parchment and began writing a letter to Ginny. Hopefully I could send it next time Ron writes me. Ginny and I had become much closer over the past few years since I had been spending so much time at the Weasley's. Ginny and I, being the only two girls, bonded and became friends. I've given her advice about Harry, and hopefully, she can give me some advice in return. As I finished up the letter, I heard Mum call from downstairs.

"Hermione, dinner is ready!"

"Coming Mum!" I responded, folded up the letter, and headed downstairs.

A few days later, I was sitting at my desk, working on an essay for History of Magic when I heard a thump against my window. I turned around to see little Pigwidgen rearing up to try and fly into my room again. I quickly jumped up and threw the window open before Ron's tiny owl could hurt himself. When Pigwidgen came in, he began to fly in circles around my head with a large parchment tied to his leg.

"Oi, slow down," I told him as I tried to grab the hyperactive bird out of the air.

When I finally caught him, I untied the letter and read it. Ron said that his dad told him that Dumbledore would be bringing Harry to The Burrow in about a month, and he wanted to know if I could come. He said that I could meet him and his parents in Diagon Alley instead of using the floo network this time because his dad figured that my parents might prefer that.

Thank goodness, only a month left before I get to see Ron and Harry again. I worry about Harry with his aunt and uncle, and the more time I get to spend with him and Ron, the better. The older I get, the harder it gets to be away from the wizarding world for long amounts of time. I can't wait till I come of age and can use magic at home. Only a few more months...

As I was lost in my thoughts, Pigwidgen began to fly around my head again. Oh right! I need to ask Mum and Dad about going to The Burrow. I ran downstairs to find Dad in the living room watching television. Mum was still at work.

"Dad," I began to ask.

"Yes dear."

"Is it alright with you and Mum if I go stay at Ron's next month? Harry will be there too. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley have said that they can meet us in Diagon Alley," I explained.

"I'll have to ask your mother, but it's fine with me. Molly and Arthur are so kind to have you and Harry over every summer on top of all their kids."

"Yeah, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are great. Well I have to go respond to Ron's letter," I told him.

"Alright Hermione," Dad said as he turned his attention back to the TV where the news was showing.

I went pack upstairs and quickly wrote a reply to Ron.

Dear Ron,

My Dad said yes, and my Mum ought to when she gets home from work. Thanks for inviting me. How's your summer so far?

Love from,

Hermione

I tied Ron and Ginny's letters to Pigwidgen's leg and gave him a bit of water before sending him off. Now I just had to get through the rest of the month. Then I could see my real friends again. Then my life could go back to normal, well as normal as it could be in the midst of a war beginning.