The summer holidays, for Hermione Granger, at least, were dull and monotonous. When she wasn't absorbed in her schoolwork, she was glued to a chair in the library, poring- rather obsessively- over volumes of Muggle science, ancient literature, and history. Hermione had had the decency to send several letters by owl post to Ron and Harry, but she was met with a rather upsetting lack of responce from Harry- no doubt the Dursleys' doing- and a scribble from Ron, graciously informing her that he was doing well.

Living in a Muggle neighborhood, Hermione began to feel quite disconnected indeed from the wizarding world. A large screech owl delivered the Daily Prophet every morning, but nowhere in the paper did they mention when she would hear from Harry Potter again, or see Ron Weasley. Aside from the Prophet, no one bothered to keep her informed.

Hermione was sure they had their reasons, and so witheld any potential complaints or requests to be enlightened, though slightly grudgingly. She was just beginning to think she knew how Harry had felt the summer before last, when she heard a tap on the window one morning during breakfast.

To Hermione's great relief, she saw a small, fluffy owl flapping his wings feverishly, trying very hard to look capable of carrying the scroll of parchment in his tiny beak.

"Pigwidgeon!"

Hurriedly, she threw open the window, and the owl spit out the parchment into her hands and flew around the room, twittering proudly. Crookshanks made an irritated noise from under the table.

Dear Hermione,

Sorry I haven't been writing lately, loads of stuff going on. Listen, I heard Moody talking to McGonagall, and I think they're bringing you here really soon. I hope you're not mad at me. Oh, and Harry's not here. I don't think he's coming for a while... Have you heard from him? I haven't. I sent him a letter asking how he was, and Pig came back without a letter, looking really upset about something.

Hermione spotted Pigwidgeon bouncing around on the light fixture, and wondered if it were possible for him to not look upset.

Well, anyways, Fred and George are here, strutting about the house with their fancy clothes like they're something else, but at least they know when to shut up. Mum got a letter from Percy. Yesterday. I don't know what it said, but she's been crying all day. He thinks he's so great... I was sure that when Fudge pardoned Dumbledore... anyways, Mum's yelling about something now. And crying. So I think I'd better go. See you soon, I hope!

Love, Ron

Hermione was about to fetch her quill and write a reply, when a large barn owl swooped inside in a flurry of dusty-colored feathers. It stuck out it's leg calmly, differentiating itself between the fuzzball whizzing overhead, and Hermione hurriedly untied the parchment and laid it out on the table.

Dear Hermione,

It has been requested that you be escorted as soon as possible to Headquarters. Send return owl immediately stating that your parents have either given permission- or witheld it- for you to spend the remainder of the holidays here. If your parents agree, we'll come for you as soon as we get your response. Hope to see you soon.

Remus J. Lupin

Hermione grinned, and sent Pigwidgeon on his way after scribbling a quick note to Ron. The barn owl looked at her expectantly, so she ran upstairs to consult the matter with her parents, before sending the barn owl out the window in the general direction of London; more specifically, Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

Summer was beginning to seem a bit more promising, Hermione thought with a smile as she watched the barn owl grow smaller and smaller and finally disappear.