Disclaimer: I, jaf21, do solemly swear that I am up to no good...No...I
mean, that I do not own the characters contained within this fic, and that
no one would pay me for what I write...No...That I make no profit from it
whatsoever, never.
Hermione's PoV as a close friend.
This story starts with Hermione. It is the first week after school has let out. The trio will be starting their sixth year when school starts up. We join her in her room. Sitting on the cushions of her bay window, with a book in her lap, but staring out of her window...
"I wonder how he's doing?" Hermione thought.
Yet again, she found herself unable to concentrate. Her thoughts ever leading back to her best friend, Harry Potter.
"That damn family he lives with." she scowled inwardly. "They won't care. They'll be glad to see him miserable."
Her thoughts continued to darken. She could imagine the Dursley's house. She had seen them several times now. So her mental pictures were for the most part complete. They had no idea what he had been through over the past five years. Worse to her, they would not care if they had. Images of Harry on the receiving end of hate from a family who would never accept him, never love him for who he was.
From the pieces, of the stories, about the Dursleys she had, she knew they would take every opportunity to put him down. Sure, there was that meeting at Kings Cross station only a week ago, when members of the Order had confronted the Dursley's. The thought of Harry's Uncle Vernon getting put in his place by Mad Eye Moody brought a small sense of satisfaction. But, she truly doubted the Dursley's would hold to it. Horrible, wretched lot they were!
Harry would often tell them what the Dursley's had done to him, but rarely how it affected him. He was always so withdrawn. He always pushed his hurts down. Harry never really had the time she supposed, to deal with those pains or to acknowledge them head on and try to come to peace with them. There was always something looming on the horizon, somebody in need. Something else to occupy his mind. He was never taught anything about, or by, real love. The kind that forgives, the kind that asks for forgiveness.
She sighed.
Then there was the loss of Sirius Black.
She wouldn't even think about that right now.
Anguish was quickly wreaking it's havoc on Hermione's mind. Tears began to form in her eyes. Why does it have to be so unfair? He was her best friend. One of her only friends. Besides Harry and the Weasley's, no one had ever taken the time to get to know Hermione Granger. Even in her earlier school days before Hogwarts, the other children thought she was strange. She had always been fascinated with the pursuit of knowledge. Hungered to know things. Longed to have someone to call a friend who she could share her vast knowledge with. Friends who would not shun her for it. For over four years now she possessed those friends. Yes, there were the endless rows with Ron, who could be so thick, but it was never insulting. Never personal. Rarely had it affected their friendship. Even then, not for long.
"Knock, Knock." came a soft call from Hermione's door. It was her mother's voice.
Hermione wiped the tears that threatened to pour from her eyes, tried to straighten herself up, and pulled her book back up to make it view as though she were reading.
"Come in," she called back. Try as she might to look normal, her voice betrayed her. It trembled slightly and she had to clear the lump in her throat.
The door opened slowly. Her mother was carrying a tray of lunch for her.
"Well, how about some lunch?," came her mothers soft voice. "Good book?"
When Mrs. Granger had come in, she expected to see her daughter reading in her window. That was what she did most of the time. That was not what she saw. Her heart went out to her. She knew her daughter so well, she was such a tender hearted child. Always had been. This was going to be like last summer.
"Uh, I'm not really hungry right now mum." she kept her head down and tried to look interested in her book. "If you could just set it down. Thanks."
Mrs. Granger set down the tray on Hermione's bed and went to the window where she sat. She sat down across from Hermione and took the book from her hands.
"Hermione, what's wrong pumpkin?" she asked. "What's getting you down?"
Hermione kept her head down and looked at her hands. "Nothing." Came her half-hearted reply.
Mrs. Granger reached over and gently lifted Hermione's chin. She looked into her daughter's eyes and smiled.
"Come on, you can talk to me." she said. "You've always talked to me."
Hermione wanted to talk. She needed to talk. But, this was the same thing as last year, and before that. Worried about Harry or worried about Ron or his dad, or Ginny.
"Hermione, you can't keep this in. It will only hurt you." Mrs. Granger soothed her and tried to get her to open up. "You've got to get it out."
Something triggered in Hermione. This was the same thing she wanted to get through to Harry.
"He doesn't." she said and lowered her head back to looking at her hands.
"Is it Ron?" her mother asked. Mrs. Granger had known about Hermione's feeling in the past about Ron Weasley. That boy is incredibly thick, she thought to herself.
Hermione shook her head.
"Harry?" she asked.
Hermione nodded her head. She looked up to her mom.
"It's so unfair. He looses his parents. He's wanted dead by Voldemort. He looses Sirius Black, his godfather. And he's trapped in that house with those damned relatives who don't care at all for him." She was starting to get worked up again.
Mrs. Granger didn't like to hear her daughter swear, but she was pretty upset.
"He never talks to us. He just shuts it all up inside of him and won't let anyone in to help sort it out."
"He's never learned to, pumpkin." She looked soothingly at her daughter. "No one has ever taught him. No one close enough to him has ever made him."
"How can you make someone mum?" she asked looking again to her mother. "How can you get someone to open up when they never do?" It was the heart of her anguish. To see her best friend hurt and be helpless to be there for him.
"You be there. You try, you pry ever so slightly." she told her. "You show him he can trust you with those kinds of things. You have to make yourself vulnerable too."
Hermione knew most of this she had been trying for years now. So had Ron.
"I've tried mum, I really have tried. So has Ron." She was growing a little annoyed. "Then something happens, he shells up and then gets sent right back to the mess he's in now. The Dursley's."
Her mother sat back and folded her arms. "Give up then." she said flatly.
Hermione was shocked to hear what was coming out of her mothers mouth. She had never told Hermione to give up.
"What?" she asked.
"Stop doing this to yourself pumpkin." she kept her position. "He's obviously too troubled and he won't accept help from a friend. He also doesn't have a girlfriend who could make him open up." She paused for measure. "So pull out now, while you can. Quit torturing yourself with his problems."
Hermione's shock was mounting. This was not like her mother. When had she ever given up. She furrowed her brow and looked questioningly at her mother.
"Or," her mother relaxed her posture. "Lay it out there for him."
"Huh?" Hermione was puzzled by her mothers tactic.
"You know, maybe if he knew what his friends went through for him. What you, go through for him, every summer." She was betting on her daughters quick intellect to put the pieces together. "He would see that he did have someone else. That his reclussiveness was hurting others besides himself. Maybe he needs a wake up call Hermione. A rude awakening."
"But, his godfather just died. He's going to grieve." Slow recognition began to form in Hermione's features. "How can I drop that on him now?"
Mrs. Granger could see her daughters mental gears began to work. That was the beauty of her daughters mind. All she ever needed was the pieces, she could always string them together herself.
"Tell him, you can't do this for him anymore. Your not going to stretch yourself out there for him this go around." her mother was leading her. "If he doesn't know by now, he won't. So, give it to him straight. Tell him you still very much want to be his friend, but you're not going to try to reach him any more. You've got to expose yourself and possibly be rejected, but tell him how much this hurts you."
Thoughts were churning in the right direction for Hermione. Her mothers advice was clicking in to together.
Mrs. Granger saw the familiar look of determination began to take over her daughters face. Good. she thought. So she stood and took her leave, closing the door quietly behind her.
Hermione sat there for most of the afternoon. Going over what her mother had said. It fit. If he didn't know by now, he wouldn't unless someone put it out there for him. Too bad it couldn't be Ron. She wasn't looking forward to this. But with quiet determination, she rose up ,moved to her desk and began to write Harry a letter. Her thoughts poured from her soul to the parchment.
Dear Harry,
I really hope this letter finds you in good spirits. I have to share something with you I don't fully expect you to get.
Hermione's PoV as a close friend.
This story starts with Hermione. It is the first week after school has let out. The trio will be starting their sixth year when school starts up. We join her in her room. Sitting on the cushions of her bay window, with a book in her lap, but staring out of her window...
"I wonder how he's doing?" Hermione thought.
Yet again, she found herself unable to concentrate. Her thoughts ever leading back to her best friend, Harry Potter.
"That damn family he lives with." she scowled inwardly. "They won't care. They'll be glad to see him miserable."
Her thoughts continued to darken. She could imagine the Dursley's house. She had seen them several times now. So her mental pictures were for the most part complete. They had no idea what he had been through over the past five years. Worse to her, they would not care if they had. Images of Harry on the receiving end of hate from a family who would never accept him, never love him for who he was.
From the pieces, of the stories, about the Dursleys she had, she knew they would take every opportunity to put him down. Sure, there was that meeting at Kings Cross station only a week ago, when members of the Order had confronted the Dursley's. The thought of Harry's Uncle Vernon getting put in his place by Mad Eye Moody brought a small sense of satisfaction. But, she truly doubted the Dursley's would hold to it. Horrible, wretched lot they were!
Harry would often tell them what the Dursley's had done to him, but rarely how it affected him. He was always so withdrawn. He always pushed his hurts down. Harry never really had the time she supposed, to deal with those pains or to acknowledge them head on and try to come to peace with them. There was always something looming on the horizon, somebody in need. Something else to occupy his mind. He was never taught anything about, or by, real love. The kind that forgives, the kind that asks for forgiveness.
She sighed.
Then there was the loss of Sirius Black.
She wouldn't even think about that right now.
Anguish was quickly wreaking it's havoc on Hermione's mind. Tears began to form in her eyes. Why does it have to be so unfair? He was her best friend. One of her only friends. Besides Harry and the Weasley's, no one had ever taken the time to get to know Hermione Granger. Even in her earlier school days before Hogwarts, the other children thought she was strange. She had always been fascinated with the pursuit of knowledge. Hungered to know things. Longed to have someone to call a friend who she could share her vast knowledge with. Friends who would not shun her for it. For over four years now she possessed those friends. Yes, there were the endless rows with Ron, who could be so thick, but it was never insulting. Never personal. Rarely had it affected their friendship. Even then, not for long.
"Knock, Knock." came a soft call from Hermione's door. It was her mother's voice.
Hermione wiped the tears that threatened to pour from her eyes, tried to straighten herself up, and pulled her book back up to make it view as though she were reading.
"Come in," she called back. Try as she might to look normal, her voice betrayed her. It trembled slightly and she had to clear the lump in her throat.
The door opened slowly. Her mother was carrying a tray of lunch for her.
"Well, how about some lunch?," came her mothers soft voice. "Good book?"
When Mrs. Granger had come in, she expected to see her daughter reading in her window. That was what she did most of the time. That was not what she saw. Her heart went out to her. She knew her daughter so well, she was such a tender hearted child. Always had been. This was going to be like last summer.
"Uh, I'm not really hungry right now mum." she kept her head down and tried to look interested in her book. "If you could just set it down. Thanks."
Mrs. Granger set down the tray on Hermione's bed and went to the window where she sat. She sat down across from Hermione and took the book from her hands.
"Hermione, what's wrong pumpkin?" she asked. "What's getting you down?"
Hermione kept her head down and looked at her hands. "Nothing." Came her half-hearted reply.
Mrs. Granger reached over and gently lifted Hermione's chin. She looked into her daughter's eyes and smiled.
"Come on, you can talk to me." she said. "You've always talked to me."
Hermione wanted to talk. She needed to talk. But, this was the same thing as last year, and before that. Worried about Harry or worried about Ron or his dad, or Ginny.
"Hermione, you can't keep this in. It will only hurt you." Mrs. Granger soothed her and tried to get her to open up. "You've got to get it out."
Something triggered in Hermione. This was the same thing she wanted to get through to Harry.
"He doesn't." she said and lowered her head back to looking at her hands.
"Is it Ron?" her mother asked. Mrs. Granger had known about Hermione's feeling in the past about Ron Weasley. That boy is incredibly thick, she thought to herself.
Hermione shook her head.
"Harry?" she asked.
Hermione nodded her head. She looked up to her mom.
"It's so unfair. He looses his parents. He's wanted dead by Voldemort. He looses Sirius Black, his godfather. And he's trapped in that house with those damned relatives who don't care at all for him." She was starting to get worked up again.
Mrs. Granger didn't like to hear her daughter swear, but she was pretty upset.
"He never talks to us. He just shuts it all up inside of him and won't let anyone in to help sort it out."
"He's never learned to, pumpkin." She looked soothingly at her daughter. "No one has ever taught him. No one close enough to him has ever made him."
"How can you make someone mum?" she asked looking again to her mother. "How can you get someone to open up when they never do?" It was the heart of her anguish. To see her best friend hurt and be helpless to be there for him.
"You be there. You try, you pry ever so slightly." she told her. "You show him he can trust you with those kinds of things. You have to make yourself vulnerable too."
Hermione knew most of this she had been trying for years now. So had Ron.
"I've tried mum, I really have tried. So has Ron." She was growing a little annoyed. "Then something happens, he shells up and then gets sent right back to the mess he's in now. The Dursley's."
Her mother sat back and folded her arms. "Give up then." she said flatly.
Hermione was shocked to hear what was coming out of her mothers mouth. She had never told Hermione to give up.
"What?" she asked.
"Stop doing this to yourself pumpkin." she kept her position. "He's obviously too troubled and he won't accept help from a friend. He also doesn't have a girlfriend who could make him open up." She paused for measure. "So pull out now, while you can. Quit torturing yourself with his problems."
Hermione's shock was mounting. This was not like her mother. When had she ever given up. She furrowed her brow and looked questioningly at her mother.
"Or," her mother relaxed her posture. "Lay it out there for him."
"Huh?" Hermione was puzzled by her mothers tactic.
"You know, maybe if he knew what his friends went through for him. What you, go through for him, every summer." She was betting on her daughters quick intellect to put the pieces together. "He would see that he did have someone else. That his reclussiveness was hurting others besides himself. Maybe he needs a wake up call Hermione. A rude awakening."
"But, his godfather just died. He's going to grieve." Slow recognition began to form in Hermione's features. "How can I drop that on him now?"
Mrs. Granger could see her daughters mental gears began to work. That was the beauty of her daughters mind. All she ever needed was the pieces, she could always string them together herself.
"Tell him, you can't do this for him anymore. Your not going to stretch yourself out there for him this go around." her mother was leading her. "If he doesn't know by now, he won't. So, give it to him straight. Tell him you still very much want to be his friend, but you're not going to try to reach him any more. You've got to expose yourself and possibly be rejected, but tell him how much this hurts you."
Thoughts were churning in the right direction for Hermione. Her mothers advice was clicking in to together.
Mrs. Granger saw the familiar look of determination began to take over her daughters face. Good. she thought. So she stood and took her leave, closing the door quietly behind her.
Hermione sat there for most of the afternoon. Going over what her mother had said. It fit. If he didn't know by now, he wouldn't unless someone put it out there for him. Too bad it couldn't be Ron. She wasn't looking forward to this. But with quiet determination, she rose up ,moved to her desk and began to write Harry a letter. Her thoughts poured from her soul to the parchment.
Dear Harry,
I really hope this letter finds you in good spirits. I have to share something with you I don't fully expect you to get.