Summer Love
Chapter 2
Disclaimer: Only the plot belongs to me. The rest belongs to and is inspired by the lovely Ms. Rowling.
Hermione had just gotten a letter from Ron saying that he was going to Romania to visit Charlie for the summer. She knew that Harry must have received one just like it. He was going to be upset.
She plunked herself down in front of the phone, anticipating Harry's call. She found she didn't have to wait long before the phone rang.
Hermione picked it up on the second ring and they exchanged a quick hello.
"I really love the gift. It's wonderful," said Harry quietly.
His voice was hoarse. Had he been crying?
"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione inquired, concerned.
"Yes," he replied, trying to use his usual, confident tones.
"Harry, I know you probably got a letter just now saying that Ron's going to visit Charlie and we can't stay this summer, so… would you like to stay here at my house this summer?" There was a long pause at the other end. "I mean, I know it's not the same, but—˝
"Thank you so much, Hermione! I could kiss you. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to get away from the Dursleys this summer! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Harry interrupted joyfully.
"Oh, stop that. Did you really think I'd let you sit in that house, among those wretched people, and rot?" she laughed, glad to see some happiness in Harry.
"Have you asked your parents?" asked Harry, somewhat worried about what the Grangers would think about Hermione inviting one of her male friends to stay over the summer.
"Of course I have. They say we can come and pick you up as soon as tomorrow morning," said Hermione.
"This is so great of you Hermione! Now I have to go ask permission from my uncle," Harry sighed. "This could take a while. I hope you have something to do."
"Uncle Vernon, I called my friend Hermione and she asked me to stay for the summer. Can I go?" queried Harry, bored by the process he had to go through every time he wanted to go somewhere.
"You did WHAT! I thought that I had told you that you weren't allowed to call your weirdo friends," thundered Uncle Vernon, turning an interesting shade of purple.
"She is from a normal family like you. She knows how to use a telephone. She grew up using a telephone. Its fine," soothed Harry, though his patience was wearing thin.
"Who is this Hermione anyway?" he asked, changing the subject.
"A friend of mine from Hog—from school," Harry swiftly corrected himself. A long pause ensued.
"A girl?"
" Yes, Uncle Vernon, she is a girl," Harry said slowly, as if to a toddler or a stupid person.
"Well…. I suppose I'll have to let you go or that murderous godfather of yours will hear about it," sighed Uncle Vernon, turning his attention back to the television.
Harry nodded, tears coming to his eyes at the mention of Sirius, but laughter came with it as Harry perceived how much Sirius had done for him and that the Dursleys were still scared of him.
Harry had just begun to walk away when Uncle Vernon yelled suddenly, "WAIT! You did say they were," he glanced around warily, "normal, didn't you?"
"Yes," responded Harry impatiently, starting up the stairs, "And they'll be picking me up by car."
Ten minutes later Hermione heard Harry storm back into his room and pick up the phone.
"They say I can come. They are so frustrating! They'd rather analyze a thing inside and out than give me a straight answer. Honestly, it was a yes or no question," Harry raged.
"I can see that it definitely isn't healthy to be cooped up in that house. Try to calm down; you'll be out of there by eight o'clock tomorrow morning. Take a rest and pack up leisurely," comforted Hermione in a motherly, compassionate voice.
Harry tried to take Hermione's advice, but was too stirred up to relax. Instead he sat himself the task of organizing and cleaning his room. He did not want Hermione to see it a mess because, knowing her, she'd have a fit and go about cleaning it up instead of getting him out of this place. By three o'clock that afternoon, his room was transformed.
Then he stacked his books, robes, and other supplies in his trunk. In a great feeling of accomplishment, he laid out his favorite olive green t-shirt and some black jeans for the next day.
The next day, Harry was making sure he looked just the way he wanted to. The night before he had tried to make his hair lie flat with hair gel, which only gained him an extra shower.
The door bell rang, startling Harry. He opened the door to see a completely different Hermione. Her hair wasn't frizzy and bushy anymore. She had done something to it that made it sleek and shiny and had also had it cut into cute, shoulder-length layers. She was wearing warm brown eye shadow that brought out the cinnamon tones in her eyes. She had noticeably filled out in all the right places, which was very obvious in the blue flared jeans and short white unicorn t-shirt she wore. Nothing was grossly tight, but fit her just right, glossing over her figure.
"Wow!" Harry exclaimed. "You've changed a lot," he added, his face breaking into a smile.
Dudley, who had been in the room when Harry was answering the door, was eyeing Hermione in a disturbing way. Harry, seeing this and not wanting Dudley to get any ideas, quickly enveloped Hermione in a hug.
Harry had definitely changed over the summer as well. He was a good deal taller than he had been at the end of the year. Hermione, pressed against his strong body, was nearly six inches shorter than him.
"Come in! Come in!" exclaimed Harry, releasing Hermione in order to open the door wider for Mr. and Mrs. Granger.
"Uncle Vernon! Aunt Petunia! The Grangers are here!" Harry shouted. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon appeared a moment later. After a brief conversation about jobs and the economy, Harry and the Grangers were on their way.
A/N: Yes, I know it is probably too much dialogue, but I'm just getting things established and this will probably be the only chapter like that. Don't kill me. Please make me happy and review. Go on. Review review review. And try to be nice because this is my first fanfic. REVIEW:-)
