The muggle underground was crowded. Hermione pushed her way to the ticket sales booth, trying to read fair prices as she went. Men in business suits pushed past her, none caring if she remained on her feet or not. She finally made it to the fair's chart, only to be flattened against it by a woman with a large mass of shopping bags in each hand.
She sighed. She'd been alone in London about two weeks, if she had her days straight. Her muggle money was running low, as she moved continuously to avoid being noticed. Using a spell she'd taught herself in early June, she'd changed her hair length and style. Instead of light, bushy brown curls, she now had straight strands of dark brown hair that reached her waist. She had tried for a shorter length, but one mis-step when casting it (due to a backfiring of a car across from the alley she had been hiding in) caused it's current length. She cursed herself for sending the book to Harry, as cutting her hair had no effect. The strands remained in a single braid down her back.
Her jeans were dirty and tearing at the bottom, her t-shirt also dirty and beginning to fade. She had chosen simple clothes so as not to draw attention to herself, with a grey sweatshirt tied around her waist.
She bought a ticket, noting she had less than ten euros left, and entered the underground. She entered the first train that appeared, and sat in the corner. She pulled her bag onto her lap, hugging it to her chest, and looked out the window. She suddenly noticed how much smaller her bag felt against her body. She knew her food was running low- she'd been living off a small box of crackers for the past few days.
She knew she had lost weight, as her jeans were beginning to slip down her hips when she walked. Her shirt had been tight around her stomach, but now flapped slightly.
Hermione forced back tears that constantly threatened her cheeks. She hated living like this- moving all the time in constant fear of being recognized or found. She kept her eyes down at the train left the station and moved to the next.
The hours passed and still she sat. She pulled a journal from her bag, scribbling notes of spells she needed to practice and items she wanted to look up once she had the chance. The book was quickly filling, and she hoped it would last her until she returned to Hogwarts.
As the train pulled into a somewhat deserted station, Hermione was munching on a cracker and scribbling a note, when a folded piece of paper fell from the pages. She grabbed at it quickly, not wanting to lose the letter from Harry. He'd written on plain notebook paper because he was slowly running out of parchment from all the essays they had to write for homework. Ron had been baffled by the paper, but Hermione had just laughed.
His letters looked different under a ball-point pen rather than a quill, but the curve of the a's and the way he signed his name were distinctly Harry.
Hermione,
Hope your summer is going well. The Dursley's are staying as far away from me as possible, though Aunt Petunia has lightened up a bit. She gives me the leftover's from meals, but I think this is just so Dudley won't sneak downstairs and eat them in the middle of the night.
If I know you, and I do, you are busy studying and reading every book you can get your hands on. Remember, just because you're old enough to do magic outside of school doesn't mean you have to learn the entire spell book before term starts! I'll be able too in a few days and while I will practice, I plan on causing a few "accidents" around the house that will drive Dudley crazy. This is my last summer here, so I'm going to make it count. As for you, enjoy the holidays and practice your chess skills- Ron wants to play us as soon as we get to the Order.
I'll see you at Diagon Alley in a week, then we'll spend the rest of the summer cleaning. You'll be proud to know that I have almost half my homework done, and the rest I need your help on. Ron's waiting until the last minute, of course, so you'll have your hands full with the two of us.
Can't wait to see you,
Harry
P.S. I was just kidding about the "accidents." They'll be nothing accidental about them!
Hermione smiled as she read this, a tear escaping and sliding down her cheek. The letter reminded her that she was only alone for a short time, and that when she did return someone would be waiting for her. She always laughed when she read about Ron's laziness, and felt proud that Harry had completed most of his homework. Guilt was the last thing to hit her when she realized she wouldn't be helping them finish their work.
"Excuse me."
Hermione's head shot up, startled by the voice. An elderly woman was standing in the aisle, a small shopping bag in hand and a large purse in the other. She was smiling down at Hermione.
"Honey, can I sit by you? My legs are aching."
Hermione smiled and grabbed her bag from the seat. The woman sat down with effort, closing her eyes a moment after she sat. Hermione quickly put the letter and her notebook away, shoving it all into her bag and hugging it to her chest.
The woman remained silently for several minutes, ever so often stealing looks at her neighbor. Hermione felt like a dog on display, keeping her eyes on the moving walls outside her window.
Finally, the woman spoke. "Hit some hard times, have you, dear?"
Hermione shrugged, not wanting to talk.
A pause. "It's not polite to ignore someone who's talking to you. I'm just making friendly conversation, as I'm going to be riding for a long time."
Hermione turned her head to look at the woman, fighting to keep a calm face. "I'm sorry. Yes, I'm having and tough time, but I try to keep to myself."
"Don't we all. That's what's wrong with today. Nobody cares about anyone but themselves."
Hermione sighed. "That's not fair. You don't even know me."
"I know all about you, Hermione Granger."
Fear gripped her as she stared at the woman, who didn't resemble anyone Hermione knew or had ever seen a picture of. How on Earth did she know who Hermione was.
Before Hermione could ask, the old woman smiled. "I saw you a few days ago. You can change your hair, but your face is still the same. And your walk is a give away- you still walk like you know everything about everything...
"Not that you don't," the woman added, seeing Hermione's hurt expression. "Now, it's time for you to come on back. You've been playing the hero long enough. The Order is waiting for you..."
"No."
The woman eyed her. "Dear, you have to come back with me. This charade of your is only worrying your family and friends. You'll be just as safe with the Order."
Hermione didn't like the situation. The women had yet to explain who she was or how she had found Hermione in the first place. Hermione suddenly became away of her entire surroundings: the train was beginning to slow, the next station fast approaching. The seat in front of her was empty.
She planned her escape.
The woman continued to speak as the train stopped and the doors opened. Without hesitation, Hermione stood and pulled herself over the seat in front of her, her bag slowing her as it caught on the seat. She tugged it free and hurried out the door before the woman could follow.
"Dedalus! She's getting...!" the woman managed to scream before the door shut and she was trapped on the train. Hermione sprinted to the stairs, fending off a man who tried to grab her arm. She recognized him from somewhere, but continued to run. Spells and curses ran through her mind, and she dug into her bag as she ran to get her wand. She had pulled it free when she stumbled on the last step, falling flat. Her wand fell from her fingers and rolled away, lost in a sea of feet.
Hermione pulled herself up and continued to run, finally reaching the streets of London. She had no idea where she was, but ran anyway.
"Stop! You, stop!"
Her mind raced as she thought back to every spell she'd ever learned to tried to learn, though little good it did her without a wand. She finally concentrated on the only thing that could get her out of this mess.
She'd only attempted it once, and failed miserably. She glanced over her shoulder, knowing she had to this time.
She ran across the street, barely getting past a car as it screeched to a halt to avoid hitting her pursuer. She sprinted to a small alley, crouching behind a trash can and trying to calm her breathing.
She concentrated very hard, trying to clear her mind of rush and fear. She pictured a calm place, where she wasn't in a hurry or hiding from anyone. She pictured Harry's face, smiling as he saw her. Once she was calm, she willed herself to leave...
A loud "pop" echoed in the alley. Dedalus had seen the girl's head only seconds before she disappeared away, and fought to catch his breath in his irritation.
A man in loose robes with silver hair and beard appeared next to him. "What happened."
"She apparated, sir."
Dumbledore looked surprised. "She doesn't know how to..."
"She learned." Dedalus Diddle eyed the old wizard. "She was very unstable, though. I don't think she's very skilled at it."
"Nor should she be. Must have taught herself." Dumbledore stroked his beard as the woman from the train hurried to the alley, her breathing pained.
"I don't think she had any control in where she's gonna end up."
"Dumbledore! Where it she? I..."
"Calm down, Arabella. She's gone, I'm afraid."
"Gone!" Arabella Figg held up a thin piece of wood. "But she's lost her wand, sir. She's..."
Dumbledore silenced her my taking the wand, running his fingers over it as he thought. This was becoming more difficult than he'd imagined.
"Come. Let's get back to the Order and speak with the others." He and Dedalus apparate while Mrs. Figg whistled for a cab.
