A childhood friend is special. Whether you've rode bikes with them to get a scoop of ice cream or reached above the kitchen cabinet to grab the cookie jar, you smile and feel young in an awkward sense when you remember these moments. Sometimes, it dawns upon you that if you had had a different childhood bereft of that special friend, you life would not have turned out the way you would have wanted it to. Think, just a little encouragement from your pal to step on a "big people" roller coaster could boost your courage and increase the amount of risks you take in life. But, putting all of these thoughts aside, perhaps the most important insight is companionship. Nothing can separate the two of you, whether it is time, place, circumstances, or feelings. This is the first person who put magic in your life and even though you have parted physically, this magic is still alive.
Hermione picked up another photo from her right to examine it closely. She wasn't really looking at the contents of the photo but more so triggering the memories that had packed into this piece of film paper. She was seven years old when Rye and Hermione had tied for the major kids swimming competition of the year. His voice still echoed around her, saying "Tie schmie! I know I won! There are no such things as ties! They just made you win too because you're a girl!" And then of course, I smacked him and jolted, "Shut up Henry!"
Henry Brown. Yes, he had been her special childhood friend. Actually, he was her only rue friend until she went to Hogwarts and met Ron and Harry. Her Mum thought it was funny and a bit strange that I had made a friendship with a boy at her age and her Dad just said "Awww" when he saw them playing cards in the living room. Hermione didn't exactly understand her parents' reactions at that age, but after meeting Rye, she had just become more comfortable around boys than girls. She had never understood why a girl would want to waste all of her time playing with blond-haired Barbie stick figures when they could challenge their mind with a card game of Napoleon or Memory. In her years at Hogwarts, she came to realize that this was the reason why she was so close to Ron and Harry.
School was over now. Hermione had gotten home a few days before for quite an amount of time, between staying at the Orders' Grimmauld Place and spending some weeks at Ron's house. Not being around her parents had hurt her as much as it hurt them. She hadn't devoured on her Mum's decadent meals for years and she and her Dad hadn't gone grocery shopping (their favorite hobby together) either. She was back, and after spending a couple of days with her parents, it was time to invite Rye to the house.
Just as she was getting to the photo of them eating the "homemade" scrap of cookies they had made, a knock on the door made her jump up to her feet. She flew to the door and swung it wide open in half a second and squealed and practically jumped onto her friend that she had not seen for four years.
"AAAAH!" Rye screamed, totally terrified of her attack, and fell backwards on the polished oak floor, Hermione going down with him also. Rye yelped with pain again while she laughed heartedly at his helpless figure sprawled out on the floor.
"What's going on up there?" Came Hermione's Mom's suspicious voice from downstairs. Hermione replied between her giggling, "Nothing Mum! We're just playing!"
"Uhhh…" Rye groaned as he pushed his hands down in an attempt to get up, "Once a child, always a child."
"I'm happy to see you!"
"Still, your monkeyish ways haven't changed at all Ermi."
Hermione remembered that summer before their fifth year at Hogwarts when she had sprung herself onto Harry and fell flat on the ground just like now. She smiled.
"Come on, let's go in my room. I was just looking at some pictures of us."
Hermione seated herself on the pillows side of the bed while Rye sat at the other end. She separated all the photos and looked for ones she particularly loved. Even though she adored all of them, some would bring those days of child life back.
She had this sense of knowing when someone was staring at her, and when he was right in front of her, it was no test in Advanced Potions.
"What?"
"You look…different." He was staring at her as if she had mustard painted over her face.
"That should be obvious. I was thirteen the last time I saw you, remember?"
Hermione's eyes traveled up and down and saw that he had changed a lot, something she hadn't noticed while she'd toppled him to the floor. His short black hair was spiked up and looked as shiny as light reflecting in glass. Those thin and light eyebrows that she had been used to seeing were now thick and dark, overshadowing his almond-shaped brown eyes. Even in a loose white shirt, she could see muscles popping out slightly, making him look more built.
"You've changed too. You're not the sweet boy with the extra long hair anymore."
"And you're no longer the braces wearing girl with gigantically enormously bushy hair-"
"Hey, I still have that." She brushed her fingers against her hair, "It's just more controlled now."
Rye nodded rhythmically and said, "Oooo, look at that." His finger landed on a random photo and as Hermione bent her head down to look at it, Rye pulled her hair in a flash and swished his hand back. Hermione squealed and attacked him with the major tickles. In no time, they ended up on the floor, fighting each other playfully in all kinds of ways. An outsider would have been astounded to see a couple of old teenagers wrestling with each other like little kids, but Hermione knew that whenever Rye and she got together, they would bring their childhood back.
This fight didn't stop at that. Hermione chased him out of the room and then everywhere else in the house until Rye went to her Mum for rescue. Her Mum scolded her for acting so childish. So typical of her.
…
After having supper, they both retreated upstairs to her room. Even though he only lived about twenty minutes or so away, Hermione forced him to sleep over for the night so they could stay up and catch up on everything. There were things she felt she needed to share with him. How she had changed while living in the Wizarding world and under the treat of Lord Voldemort was important. She didn't only think of herself as intelligent but brave and courageous as well. She valued life more. Rye didn't know anything about her being a witch or going to Hogwarts. He thought she had enrolled in one of the famous boarding schools in Scotland.
…
"Accio Cola!" Hermione flicked her wand and a can of soda came flying into Rye's hand. Instantaneously, he repulsed back and dropped the can, producing a look that was priceless. She couldn't tell if he was about to faint from the shock or cry out in excitement. All he did was stare at her for the longest time.
Hermione waved her hand in front of his face, "Rye! Snap out of it!"
"What. Was. That."
"I told you, I'm a witch, but you didn't believe it so I had to show you." She waved her wand involuntarily.
"Stop that." Rye eyed the wand with slight intimidation, and respecting him, she put it down.
"I didn't mean to shock you like that. I was trying got tell you what's been happening in my life. You're my friend and you shouldn't be left in the dark."
"I wish I was on this one."
"We never used to keep secrets from each other," she said, "why start now?"
"True, but as I said before: you have changed."
"This is just the beginning of the story," she hadn't even started to talk about Harry and Voldemort, "and I haven't changed that much."
"Right…" Rye said sarcastically.
"YOU have changed. You're all serious now."
"I grew up." He pointed out.
"So did I, but I still have my youth with me in here." She placed a hand over her heart.
"Dramatizing things is not you."
"Life is a drama, Rye, of thoughts and emotions."
"Finally, the intelligence is shining."
"Thanks to you." Hermione beamed at him.
""What do you mean?"
"Remember the first time we met?"
Hermione did clearly. She was close to seven years old when she had gone to the pediatrician with her Dad to get a polio shot. Those things had scared the hell out of her and they still did today. Hermione had been sitting in the waiting room, or more so having a fit while her Dad was making fruitless attempts to quiet her. She had decided that the visit was going to go her way.
As a few minutes passed, a thin kid with chubby cheeks and long wavy dark hair walked to her with a small pamphlet clutched in his right hand. He kneeled down to her and put his stubby finger on a picture of a shrivel-skinned child in front of it and said, "Look. That'll happen if we don't get that shot."
Her sobbing came to an abrupt stop as she reached fro the pamphlet. More than the pictures, she was interested in the amazing jumbling of words spread all over the page. She recognized some words such as "and", "body", "bones", "child", but there were innumerous others that she couldn't read. Hermione smiled at the kid and turned to her Dad, "Daddy? What does this say?"
"See?" said a full grown Hermione, facing Rye, "Thanks to you, I have the avid passion for reading."
"Well, what can I say? I'm a good influence on everyone." He said with a fake-arrogant voice, "How long were you looking at these pictures before I came?"
"A while. I'm planning to sort them in a scrapbook. Memories, you know."
"These mean a lot to you, don't they?"
"They mean a lot to you too or you wouldn't be here. From going to Hogwarts to living all over England, I feel like I missed a lot not being around here more. It might seem strange to people who know me, but I missed the Muggle world a lot while I was away. I was born and raised here, and I just neglected it like that when I knew I shouldn't have."
"It's not your fault Ermi. I understand even though I missed you like crazy. I thought you forgot me."
Hermione shook her head, "That's impossible. You'd be surprised to find out how much I thought about and I also wanted to write letters but was scared of exposure so I didn't. I wish I had now."
"So do I, but what's done is done. So, your magic is done, right? Seven years?"
Hermione hugged him warmly and said, "No. It's just started."
