Chapter 4
June Winds
A/N: Ok so maybe I don't know my drinks, I am eighteen and a non-alcoholic, what can I say! J All I know about is what my friends drink and I really couldn't picture Snape with a Strawberry Daiquiri if you catch my drift!
"Hermione, you have been quiet ever since you got back this afternoon. Is something wrong?" Her mother asked.
'Wrong, of course something is wrong, you're getting a divorce, I broke up with my boyfriend, I received a letter I never wanted to see, of course everything in the bloody world is WRONG!' She thought to herself.
"No, everything is fine." She replied, as she went back to playing with her half eaten sandwich and pickle.
"Okay, if you need to talk about it let me know. I can fix it." Her mother said innocently as if Hermione was a stubborn child who didn't know what was best for her. This threw her off the roof and she began yelling.
"Okay, so you want to know what is wrong do you, and you, you have the nerve to actually think you could fix what is bothering me?! You can't because I hate you, I hate dad, and I hate Derrick!!!!" She yelled like a teenager.
"HERMIONE! Why are you mad at us?" She asked appalled.
"Oh, you think I am happy about this? Do you think you two can just pick up get a divorce and bring it up to me at breakfast one day? Breakfast is for cereal, jokes and burnt toast, not divorces!!!" She continued on without breaking a sweat.
"Why didn't you ever mention anything to us before, if you were so upset we could have talked about it."
"You think it is that easy, talking about it, talking won't make you love each other again, and talking will certainly not help me erase the things I did to hurt your marriage."
"What are you talking about dear?"
"You think I didn't her dad and you argue? Do you think I was so stupid to see that neither of you were happy with decision I made? Did it ever occur to you that perhaps I was happy with what I was doing?"
"But dear, you almost died, and you lost one of your friends we thought that if you came home that you could forget about those things."
"Do you think that I will ever forget seeing my best friend's body fall to the ground? Do you think that I could ever forget what happened to me in that forest? You took me home and I stayed, I wanted to make someone in this world happy, but I see that is no longer possible!" She started to cry.
"Oh Hermione, this is what is best for us, and you." She said walking over to hug Hermione.
Hermione refused to be hugged, got up grabbed her coat of the back of the kitchen chair and started for the door.
"No, mother, this is not what is best for me, and I don't bloody well care what you think anymore! I am an adult I will make my own decisions thank you very much!" She said as she walked out the door.
"Hermione, wait! Come back! Please!" Fiona cried, she had driven her own daughter away, and she didn't know if she would ever see her again.
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So many thoughts raced through her mind, yelling at her mother had felt good, but she couldn't help but feel guilty. It is as if they had become strangers living in the same house, she supposed that is what she felt with Derrick, no one could relate to her, not even the author of the letter that was in her pocket. Hermione struggled to find some reason to keep living here, or to just open the letter and see what the old man wanted.
A week had past since she blew up at her mother, and she still had the letter in her pocket, taking it everywhere as if it were a charm. This thought made her laugh. 'It probably is a charm, that is what magic is.'
It was June and today was extremely muggy outside. She had grabbed a bite to eat and now found herself wandering through the side streets by her flat. She had now walked the distance to the local park, and found a brick wall to sit on. She jumped up, and fiddled with the letter again. The edges were now becoming like cloth, as she had rubbed them so much in the past week. She drew it from her pocket and began to tear the sealed envelope. She had known earlier who it was from, no one else from Hogwarts would ever write to her. Her thoughts were confirmed when she began reading the letter.
Dear Miss Granger,
I do hope this letter finds you well. If you aren't busy on June 15th I would wish to have you join me for a cup of tea at Hogwarts. I have a proposal to make, that I do hope that you do not refuse. Say hello to your parents, and please send your reply by owl post.
Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
"June 15th! That is tomorrow!!!" Hermione gasped. She sat there in disbelief. It had been four years since she heard from anyone in the wizarding world, why now? Ron had died, Harry sort of disappeared along with Remus, and Minerva McGonagall had continued teaching, transfiguration. Then of course there was Severus Snape. These were her only friends, and only one of them had cared enough to write her.
She thought back to the day that she left, back to the last time she saw them all.
*****
Her eyes fluttered open, white light flooded her eyes. White the color of purity, the color of hope, and the color of surrender. Things began to come into focus; her mind registered the place as the Infirmary at Hogwarts. It was quite, but the sun was hitting her directly. She looked over to the window and saw a figure standing; well when she looked closer he was sort of leaning against the wall starring out the windows that looked down on the Quidditch fields. She didn't recognize who it was, but who ever it was he stood as still as a statue. She could her his staggered breaths. Her focus was interrupted when she heard people coming.
"This can't be true! RON! Can't be dead." Mrs. Weasly cried hysterically.
"I am so very sorry Molly, he died very honorably. If there is anything we can do, please let us know." She heard Dumbledore say to Ron's mom, and she too began to cry.
She cried for him, for Sirius, and most of all herself. It seemed like a selfish thing, but she couldn't help but feel dirty. What had happened the previous night to her she could not exactly remember, but she did remember waking up sore and violated. Her crying grew louder and she could sense someone walking towards her, when they approached her, she felt a sense of stability and stopped crying in order to take a breath. She closed her eyes in fear of being laughed at for crying. She lied there for hours, while she heard the man breaths. They too seemed pained, and this some how made her relax.
She never opened her eyes again, until her parents came and offered to take her home a few days later.
*****
She awoke from her daydream to a hoot of an owl perched next to her on the brick wall at the park. She frowned and said:
"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to go see what he wants, I have nothing left here. I could always come back if I wasn't comfortable." She said to the bird while stroking its feathers between her index finger and her thumb.
She took out a pen from her purse and wrote her reply on the back of the letter he had sent, asking for directions to get to Hogwarts. She had only been to Hogwarts on the train at the start and end of every term, except the last of course. She wondered how she would ever find it.
She took out her wand from her pocket, which since the arrival of the letter, it never left her sight, and said a binding charm and sent the owl off to Hogwarts.
*****
That next morning the same tawny owl was waiting for her at her breakfast table. She petted it again and fed it some burnt toast and eggs. The owl hooted happily and dropped the note in front of her. She quickly opened it.
Dear Miss Granger,
I am so very glad to hear that you are well, and most importantly willing to meet with me. You will find a Portkey to Hogwarts inside this letter, when you are ready just touch the tab of the soda can and you will find yourself at the front steps of Hogwarts. Awaiting your visit,
Albus Dumbledore
"Well, here goes nothing!" She said as she grabbed the tab in her hand, closed her eyes and felt herself being jerked forward into a spiral. When she opened them she saw directly in front of her the place where she called home for seven years of her life.
After a few moments of reverie, she slowly walked up the large cobblestone bricked steps and approached the large wooden door. She grasped the large doorknocker in her right hand and thrust it down at the door, letting the castle know of her presence. And she waited.