Darkness. Peace. Tranquility. Squeak-a squeak-a squeak-a. Huh? Squeak-a
squeak-a. What the?
"Hermione? Hermione, is that you?"
Hermione was slowly awakening to a hand shaking her shoulder and a small voice calling her name. *Why is a boy in my room?* she thought sluggishly. *Why is my bed so bloody hard?*
"Hermione, it is you, isn't it?" more shaking accompanies this last comment.
Hermione slowly opens her eyes and as the world swims into focus, she sees a small mousy-haired boy that she immediately recognizes as Colin Creevey.
"Colin, why are you in my room?" she asked him, not quite coherent yet.
"Um, Hermione, I'm um, not in your room. You're on a park bench."
"What? Why would I be--" she stopped in mid-thought as the events of last night flooded back into her. Surprisingly, sadness was gone. She apparently went through the supply of that last night. "Where am I, Colin?"
"You're in Newhaven."
"Why are you here?" she was slowly getting her wits about her, but after seeing her mum give her the Dark Mark and all the night before, it was taking a bit longer than normal.
"Well, actually I live around here. Just a few blocks up the road."
Hermione had finally gotten herself together. She took in the situation at hand. Here was Colin Creevey pulling a wagon of, are those milk bottles? It appeared to be about 7 a.m. or so because the sun was just coming up over the horizon.
"Are, you, are you okay, Hermione? You don't look so good."
"Well, Colin, I had a very bad night." She sort of twitched a bit after saying that. "Why are you pulling a wagon of milk bottles, if I may ask?"
"My father is a milkman, and he's taken ill, so I'm helping him out. Dennis did it yesterday, so today is my turn. You can come home with me if you want, my mum will have breakfast ready soon and I only have a few more houses to go."
"Sure Colin, I'd like that. Let's go." Hermione was willing to go anywhere, and breakfast definitely sounded good. She stretched and the two took off up the street. Along the way, she gave Colin a recount of the events of the last evening. Colin shivered when she spoke about the green snakes and the Dark Mark.
"Was ah, You-Know-Who in your house?" he asked with fear and maybe a bit of awe.
"Honestly I don't know. Someone surely was. Probably Death Eaters." Colin shivered again when she spoke of them. "They did something to my parents, they *turned* them or something." Colin dropped off the last of the milk bottles and picked up the empties and they headed to his home.
The house looked quite similar to her own. This brought a quick tear, but she brushed it off.
"Come on in. Mmm, pancakes," Colin said as he opened the back door and the aroma of pancakes wafted out the door.
"Good morning, mum," he said as he stepped into the kitchen. "Oh, mum, this is Hermione Granger, a friend from school."
Hermione stepped into view and took in the kitchen. This was like something out of Little House on the Prairie. The house oozed rustic. The clock over the stove was made from a slice of tree. The table appeared to be hewn by hand, a not quite professional hand, but not a shabby hand. A younger boy, obviously Dennis, was sitting at the table in his pajama bottoms eating his pancakes. Mrs. Creevey was a very attractive woman, her long red hair was pulled back in a large braid. She was quite tall, about two heads taller than Hermione and three over Colin..
"Hello dear. Granger, did you say her name was Colin?"
"Yes, mum."
"Oh, dear. How are you?"
"I'm fine, I guess. My parents, on the other hand.."
"Yes, I've already heard. 'Twas in the Prophet this morning." Mrs. Creevey handed Hermione the Daily Prophet and let her read the article. "Death Eaters Attack Muggle Household in Brighton" the headline read. The inside story described the condition of her parents as 'deranged and delusional' and said that they had been taken to St. Mungo's for treatment.
"How many pancakes, dear? And you, Colin?
Hermione took three and Colin took four, Dennis was halfway through his three.
"Hermione, you look a bit peaked. Would you want to lay down for a while?" Mrs. Creevey asked her once breakfast was over.
"Yes, actually that sounds nice. Anything but a park bench sounds nice."
"Colin, show her up to your room so she can sleep a spell longer."
"Sure, mum," Colin said, gulping almost imperceptibly as Dennis smiled a big smile at him.
He lead her up the stairs and opened the door with 'Colin's Room, Keep Out' written across it. He lead her in and when she walked through the threshold she was sure she saw Harry. Then she looked a bit to the right and there was Harry again. To the left, Harry. Further left, you guessed it, Harry. Harry with his hand up in front of his face, Harry from behind, a close up of Harry's face, and perhaps the funniest (and right in the middle of them all) Harry in a gold towel with dripping water down his face scowling at Colin.
Hermione stifled a laugh, instead she said, "A little obsessive, are we?"
"Um, no, well, maybe a bit." Colin said, his face and ears glowing a radiant red.
A quick bolt of realization struck her. She looked at the bed and sat down. She took her shoes off and laid back. "Aah, comfort."
"I'll see you in a while, Hermione," Colin said as he shut the door behind him. He gulped as the door shut.
As he came back down the steps, his mum was writing a letter to someone. "Mum, who're you writing to?"
"I am letting your headmaster know that Hermione is okay. I figured that he'd be relieved to know."
"You're probably right. He would." Colin sat down and ate a slightly cold pancake.
"Hey Colin, did she like your room?" Dennis asked, giggling severely.
"Hush, you," Mrs. Creevey said to Dennis, smiling a little herself, after she saw Colin's face go scarlet.
I About Two Hours Pass/I
Hermione woke at about 9. She felt completely refreshed. She walked downstairs and found the three Creeveys in the living room watching a bit of television. All around the room were more of Colin's snapshots, most of them quite good. If he washed out as a wizard, he could easily become a photographer.
"Hey Colin, could I borrow a few sheets of parchment and then use your owl for a bit?"
"Sure. The parchment and ink is in here," said Dennis, jumping up from the floor and taking her hand, leading her to the next room. "When you're finished, I'll get Thierry."
"Okay, thanks, Dennis," Hermione replied, a little surprised.
When Dennis returned to the room, Colin looked at him with another big Creevey smile and said, "Maybe I should show her *your* room, huh, Dennis?" the younger Creevey went a shade of red a bit pinker than his older brother.
A few minutes later she emerged from the smaller room and called out to Dennis that she was finished. Dennis once again jumped to attention and got her to the back door and took her out to the small roost they'd built.
"Thierry, come here," Dennis called. The purlply-brown owl jumped over and snatched the treat that was offered. Dennis tied her parchment on and asked her where it was heading.
"To the Weasleys and Harry, at the Burrow."
"Can you find that, Thierry?" Dennis received an affirmative hoot and the owl took skyward.
They were just getting up to have lunch when a large red bird flew by the front window and flew around the house. It stopped by the back door and pecked it with its large beak. It appeared to be on fire, but they weren't quite sure. Mrs. Creevey went and opened the door and the bird dropped a letter in her hand and flew off.
"What kind of bird was that?" asked Colin.
"That was a phoenix," his mother answered. She opened the letter. "It's from your Headmaster, Dumbledore." she continued reading the letter. "He is glad to hear that you're in good health, Hermione. He is also quite sorry for your loss. He says that so far, the doctors don't know what's been done to your parents." She set the letter aside and started getting ready to cook lunch.
"Colin, get the pans from the cabinet. Dennis, go wake your da', tell him we're eating soon and tell him I said he's not that sick. Hermione, would you mind getting the bacon from the icebox?"
The three children split up like players from a huddle. A lunch of BLT's followed, with soup for Mr. Creevey. They had just finished when there was another scratch at the door. Thierry had returned, and was accompanied by a large snowy owl.
"That's Hedwig!" Hermione nearly shouted. She ran to let the owl in and took the letter from her leg. Hedwig hopped onto the roost with Thierry.
"Ron and Harry are coming here as soon as they can, Ron says within a few hours." Hermione told the gathered audience.
Dennis gave Colin a quick smirk and saw his eyes nearly pop out of his head.
"Harry's coming - Harry's coming here?" Colin stammered.
"Yes, that's what she said," Dennis said gleefully. "You might want to put on fresh underwear," he whispered to his brother.
"Harry Potter is coming to my house. Oh dear." Colin went from a shade of red to a shade of white.
"Hermione? Hermione, is that you?"
Hermione was slowly awakening to a hand shaking her shoulder and a small voice calling her name. *Why is a boy in my room?* she thought sluggishly. *Why is my bed so bloody hard?*
"Hermione, it is you, isn't it?" more shaking accompanies this last comment.
Hermione slowly opens her eyes and as the world swims into focus, she sees a small mousy-haired boy that she immediately recognizes as Colin Creevey.
"Colin, why are you in my room?" she asked him, not quite coherent yet.
"Um, Hermione, I'm um, not in your room. You're on a park bench."
"What? Why would I be--" she stopped in mid-thought as the events of last night flooded back into her. Surprisingly, sadness was gone. She apparently went through the supply of that last night. "Where am I, Colin?"
"You're in Newhaven."
"Why are you here?" she was slowly getting her wits about her, but after seeing her mum give her the Dark Mark and all the night before, it was taking a bit longer than normal.
"Well, actually I live around here. Just a few blocks up the road."
Hermione had finally gotten herself together. She took in the situation at hand. Here was Colin Creevey pulling a wagon of, are those milk bottles? It appeared to be about 7 a.m. or so because the sun was just coming up over the horizon.
"Are, you, are you okay, Hermione? You don't look so good."
"Well, Colin, I had a very bad night." She sort of twitched a bit after saying that. "Why are you pulling a wagon of milk bottles, if I may ask?"
"My father is a milkman, and he's taken ill, so I'm helping him out. Dennis did it yesterday, so today is my turn. You can come home with me if you want, my mum will have breakfast ready soon and I only have a few more houses to go."
"Sure Colin, I'd like that. Let's go." Hermione was willing to go anywhere, and breakfast definitely sounded good. She stretched and the two took off up the street. Along the way, she gave Colin a recount of the events of the last evening. Colin shivered when she spoke about the green snakes and the Dark Mark.
"Was ah, You-Know-Who in your house?" he asked with fear and maybe a bit of awe.
"Honestly I don't know. Someone surely was. Probably Death Eaters." Colin shivered again when she spoke of them. "They did something to my parents, they *turned* them or something." Colin dropped off the last of the milk bottles and picked up the empties and they headed to his home.
The house looked quite similar to her own. This brought a quick tear, but she brushed it off.
"Come on in. Mmm, pancakes," Colin said as he opened the back door and the aroma of pancakes wafted out the door.
"Good morning, mum," he said as he stepped into the kitchen. "Oh, mum, this is Hermione Granger, a friend from school."
Hermione stepped into view and took in the kitchen. This was like something out of Little House on the Prairie. The house oozed rustic. The clock over the stove was made from a slice of tree. The table appeared to be hewn by hand, a not quite professional hand, but not a shabby hand. A younger boy, obviously Dennis, was sitting at the table in his pajama bottoms eating his pancakes. Mrs. Creevey was a very attractive woman, her long red hair was pulled back in a large braid. She was quite tall, about two heads taller than Hermione and three over Colin..
"Hello dear. Granger, did you say her name was Colin?"
"Yes, mum."
"Oh, dear. How are you?"
"I'm fine, I guess. My parents, on the other hand.."
"Yes, I've already heard. 'Twas in the Prophet this morning." Mrs. Creevey handed Hermione the Daily Prophet and let her read the article. "Death Eaters Attack Muggle Household in Brighton" the headline read. The inside story described the condition of her parents as 'deranged and delusional' and said that they had been taken to St. Mungo's for treatment.
"How many pancakes, dear? And you, Colin?
Hermione took three and Colin took four, Dennis was halfway through his three.
"Hermione, you look a bit peaked. Would you want to lay down for a while?" Mrs. Creevey asked her once breakfast was over.
"Yes, actually that sounds nice. Anything but a park bench sounds nice."
"Colin, show her up to your room so she can sleep a spell longer."
"Sure, mum," Colin said, gulping almost imperceptibly as Dennis smiled a big smile at him.
He lead her up the stairs and opened the door with 'Colin's Room, Keep Out' written across it. He lead her in and when she walked through the threshold she was sure she saw Harry. Then she looked a bit to the right and there was Harry again. To the left, Harry. Further left, you guessed it, Harry. Harry with his hand up in front of his face, Harry from behind, a close up of Harry's face, and perhaps the funniest (and right in the middle of them all) Harry in a gold towel with dripping water down his face scowling at Colin.
Hermione stifled a laugh, instead she said, "A little obsessive, are we?"
"Um, no, well, maybe a bit." Colin said, his face and ears glowing a radiant red.
A quick bolt of realization struck her. She looked at the bed and sat down. She took her shoes off and laid back. "Aah, comfort."
"I'll see you in a while, Hermione," Colin said as he shut the door behind him. He gulped as the door shut.
As he came back down the steps, his mum was writing a letter to someone. "Mum, who're you writing to?"
"I am letting your headmaster know that Hermione is okay. I figured that he'd be relieved to know."
"You're probably right. He would." Colin sat down and ate a slightly cold pancake.
"Hey Colin, did she like your room?" Dennis asked, giggling severely.
"Hush, you," Mrs. Creevey said to Dennis, smiling a little herself, after she saw Colin's face go scarlet.
I About Two Hours Pass/I
Hermione woke at about 9. She felt completely refreshed. She walked downstairs and found the three Creeveys in the living room watching a bit of television. All around the room were more of Colin's snapshots, most of them quite good. If he washed out as a wizard, he could easily become a photographer.
"Hey Colin, could I borrow a few sheets of parchment and then use your owl for a bit?"
"Sure. The parchment and ink is in here," said Dennis, jumping up from the floor and taking her hand, leading her to the next room. "When you're finished, I'll get Thierry."
"Okay, thanks, Dennis," Hermione replied, a little surprised.
When Dennis returned to the room, Colin looked at him with another big Creevey smile and said, "Maybe I should show her *your* room, huh, Dennis?" the younger Creevey went a shade of red a bit pinker than his older brother.
A few minutes later she emerged from the smaller room and called out to Dennis that she was finished. Dennis once again jumped to attention and got her to the back door and took her out to the small roost they'd built.
"Thierry, come here," Dennis called. The purlply-brown owl jumped over and snatched the treat that was offered. Dennis tied her parchment on and asked her where it was heading.
"To the Weasleys and Harry, at the Burrow."
"Can you find that, Thierry?" Dennis received an affirmative hoot and the owl took skyward.
They were just getting up to have lunch when a large red bird flew by the front window and flew around the house. It stopped by the back door and pecked it with its large beak. It appeared to be on fire, but they weren't quite sure. Mrs. Creevey went and opened the door and the bird dropped a letter in her hand and flew off.
"What kind of bird was that?" asked Colin.
"That was a phoenix," his mother answered. She opened the letter. "It's from your Headmaster, Dumbledore." she continued reading the letter. "He is glad to hear that you're in good health, Hermione. He is also quite sorry for your loss. He says that so far, the doctors don't know what's been done to your parents." She set the letter aside and started getting ready to cook lunch.
"Colin, get the pans from the cabinet. Dennis, go wake your da', tell him we're eating soon and tell him I said he's not that sick. Hermione, would you mind getting the bacon from the icebox?"
The three children split up like players from a huddle. A lunch of BLT's followed, with soup for Mr. Creevey. They had just finished when there was another scratch at the door. Thierry had returned, and was accompanied by a large snowy owl.
"That's Hedwig!" Hermione nearly shouted. She ran to let the owl in and took the letter from her leg. Hedwig hopped onto the roost with Thierry.
"Ron and Harry are coming here as soon as they can, Ron says within a few hours." Hermione told the gathered audience.
Dennis gave Colin a quick smirk and saw his eyes nearly pop out of his head.
"Harry's coming - Harry's coming here?" Colin stammered.
"Yes, that's what she said," Dennis said gleefully. "You might want to put on fresh underwear," he whispered to his brother.
"Harry Potter is coming to my house. Oh dear." Colin went from a shade of red to a shade of white.