Summer Love

Disclaimer: I own only the plot. The rest belongs to the lovely Ms. Rowling.

Chapter 1. Happy Birthday!

Harry Potter sat silently in his small room at 4 Privet Drive. It was in an entirely woebegone way that he was surveying a certain leather-bound book. It was the photo album Hagrid, the keeper of the keys and grounds at Hogwarts and Harry's friend, had given him at the end of his first year. His emerald green eyes glistened wetly and the page he was looking at was splattered with tears. Beaming up at him were the three people he had loved the most, the three people who had been taken from him by his deadly enemy: a young, auburn-haired woman with bright green eyes, and two tall black-haired men. They beamed happily up from the photo. Their names, Lily Evans Potter (a blushing bride bedecked in white gown and veil), James Potter (her joyous groom), and Sirius Black (their best man).

Harry Potter, gazing at their happy faces, knew that he was considered highly unusual even in the world where he belonged, the wizarding world. That's right, he was a wizard, and a rather good one, but he would never have said so. He lived with his terrible aunt, uncle and cousin because the rest of his relatives were dead. His appearance was striking. He had piercing green eyes, black hair that stood up in all directions, and a thin lightening bolt scar in the middle of his forehead, a remnant of his nearly fatal encounter with the murderer of his parents. He was still slim, but not as small as he used to be.

As he sat there, still as a statue except for the tears that continued to stream down his face, an owl arrived on his window sill, tapping on the glass panes. Harry jumped, startled, and then smiled weakly for the first time in days, weeks even, recognizing the owl of one of his best friends. His face fell again upon remembering that Sirius, his beloved godfather, had given that owl to Ron over two years ago. A small ball of downy feathers, it was struggling to remain airborne with the large, and probably heavy package, attached to its leg.

Confused, Harry looked at the battered calendar attached to his wall. It was his birthday! The little owl was bringing Harry's birthday present. In slightly better spirits, Harry leaped up to let Pigwidgeon in.

In another place...

A young girl looked down at the piece of parchment she had been writing on, the ink still glimmering, not quite dry. It was written in neat lettering, with only a flourish underneath her beautifully scrawled name, Hermione.

She was writing a birthday card to Harry and trying to include a condolence letter in the card, not an easy task. She offered consolation for the death of Sirius, still fresh in everyone's minds, and wished him a happy birthday.

Back at the Dursleys:

Harry untied the package, releasing Pig, who flew away, twittering excitedly. 'You'd think that insane owl would need a rest after all that, but I guess not,' Harry thought, watching the bird zooming around his room. Turning his attention to the gift in his hands, he ripped off the paper. At just that moment, Pig collapsed and Harry, cradling the little fuzz ball in his cupped hands, placed him in Hedwig's cage, noticing glumly that his beautiful snowy owl hadn't yet returned from her nighttime excursion.

At Hermione's:

Hermione finished wrapping her gift for Harry and glanced out her window. Hedwig would show up on her windowsill soon. 'I have to get myself an owl,' Hermione thought. It was fairly difficult to send things to her wizarding friends without one.

At that moment, Hedwig soared gracefully through the open window, perching herself on the back of Hermione's swivel chair.

"Good timing, Hedwig," Hermione said quietly. Just because she believed this intelligent animal understood her didn't mean her parents would share her views. She gazed around her large room, looking for the letter. She had just put it down. Things were easily lost in the slightly disorganized clutter of her bedroom. (AN: I know Hermione is supposed to be organized, but her being slightly disorganized makes her seem more human.)

"Ah! Found it!" she exclaimed happily, descending on the letter, which was sitting innocently atop her jewelry box. She sealed it with scarlet wax, pressing the imprint of an iris into it before it cooled. Checking once more that the gift was securely wrapped in its red and gold wrapping paper, she tied it onto Hedwig's leg along with the letter. Hedwig took off from the window, soaring out of sight.

At the Dursley's:

Harry was admiring some of the WWW (Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes) products that Ron had given him, including a sample of their new line of fireworks made in honor of their benefactor, Harry. They were named, "Fireworks that will drive your relations Batty." According to Ron, they were, "very realistic-looking bat-shaped fireworks that scared Mum out of her wits." Poor Mrs. Weasley.

Hedwig flew in as Harry was finishing reading Ron's card. She, too, was bearing gifts. He tore the beautiful paper in Gryffindor colors from the gift, revealing a scrapbook. He picked up the note in Hermione's hand:

"Dear Harry,

I know you must be having a horrible time at the Dursleys', with only Sirius' death to think about. I am having a hard time with it and at least I have my mum and dad to talk to about it. I just wanted to say I'm here for you if you want to talk. My phone number is 336-1216, so call me sometime.

On to happier topics. Happy birthday! You're sixteen! We've known each other for five years now. You can drive! (A/N: I know that in Britain this isn't the legal driving age, but for the sake of my plot, I'm going to say it is.) The gift (please open it before you read this, if you haven't already) is a scrapbook with photos and other little things from our first five years at Hogwarts. Enjoy.

Love,

Hermione."

Harry looked at the book and then at the words, "Love, Hermione," and his face broke into the first real grin since Sirius died. He began to thumb through the book.