"So, how was your walk, Mi?" my mom asked me at the supper table. I shrugged. "Good." It seemed to be the usual response nowadays. I'm not saying it wasn't good, but it was interesting.
"I went up the hill and back down. Not too hard," I said back. "Did my exam results arrive yet?" I added.
My mom chucked. "No, sweetie, but you did get a letter from a… Ronald Weasley. Do you know him?"
I clasped my head in my hands. "Yes. He's a friend of mine at school." My mom fished in her pockets and gave it to me and started chuckling again, and I saw why. It was covered in postage stamps from top to bottom except for a small square in which he squeezed my address. I blushed and put it in my pocket to open back up in my room. "So where's Dad anyways?" I asked mom rather hastily as I jammed the letter in my pocket.
Mom sighed. "He's at the office late again. One of his patients had a major extraction, and he was half an hour late for the appointment. He should be home any minute now."
While I ate the rest of my bangers and mash, I pondered what it would be like to be a dentist. My parents were perfectly happy, but I was a witch, and I was not able to let that power go to the back of my head as I looked at people's mouths day after day, year after year. I couldn't subject myself to that fate. I was going to be an Auror, whether my parents liked it or not. Before, Moody had said my mind worked the right way. I just had to convince my parents of that. Envisioning my fate of looking in people's mouths for the rest of my life, I cleared the table and clambered up the stairs into my bedroom. I ripped open Ron's letter and it was quite perplexing.
Dear Hermione,
Read this.
I raised an eyebrow and found another piece of paper.
Dear Ron,
How's your summer? I hope it's better than mine. The Dursley's have been even worse lately, if that's possible. Dudley got an Ipod for his birthday but it wasn't the U2 one like he wanted so he threw it at Uncle Vernon. I nearly laughed, but I wouldn't be writing to you now if I had. Anyways, how are Fred and George doing? We should stop by their store sometime when we do our shopping-
The door closed loudly downstairs. "I'm home," my dad called. "Hi Dad," I called down the stairs, still reading the letter. Then I heard footsteps on the stairway. My room had so much evidence in it that I couldn't afford to leave any lying around. I crammed the letters under my mattress, grabbed a quill and a textbook and 'started' to write a Charms essay. My dad entered just as I flipped to the required page. "Hi dad," I stated vaguely as I pretended to work. "How was your day?"
"Strenuous as usual," he responded. "There was one poor little girl who got her braces stuck in her lip because she got a basketball in the face. Her brother threw it at her." I winced. "Ouch." He nodded. I wished he would go away because I had to read that letter. Fidgeting with my hands, I diverted his attention. "Mum has dinner on the table for you. Hope you don't want it to be cold."
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" he joked. I turned around and smiled. "No, I just want to focus on this essay. Might as well get it done now."
He came over and rubbed my head. "That's my girl," he muttered. "I'll leave you to that then." He closed the door quietly. I let out my breath and lifted the mattress to the strange letters. I found where I had unexpectedly stopped reading and continued.
We should stop by their store sometime when we go shopping in Diagon Alley. I'm happy Umbridge isn't going to be there this year. If only Snape weren't…
Am I still invited over to your place? I haven't heard from you in such a long time. Have you heard from Hermione? Hopefully she's well. I think she gets off those potions soon, good thing too. They look disgusting. Over here at the madhouse, it's strange. Like I said before, "Duddykins" has turned into some sort of punk and is a big troublemaker. Not like he wasn't before, but worse.
Reply back soon,
Harry
Attached was another note from Ron.
Now it's obvious something is up. He can't be all mad at me one letter and then all happy the next. Especially after the Department of Mysteries he would definitely not be that cheery. In the latter one it even says that he hasn't written to me. So one is a fake but we should wait to receive another letter and we can assume which one is Harry. Someone is obviously trying to intercept these but one of these probably got through.
By the way, you're invited over whenever you want to come. End of the summer is better though. Mum is still murderous about Fred and George, but they bought her a good cookbook and now she loves them again.
So think about it and send him the whole story. Last time I tried to send him a letter it didn't seem to work.
Ron
I put the notes down and had a brainwave. The Dursley's lived in Surrey. Their address must show up on some online map. I rushed quietly to the computer in the next room door and went to Map-Quest. It was a slow connection, but I finally searched for Dursley in Surrey. I got one result. Number four, Privet drive. This was it. I copied down the address on an envelope and, seeing as Death Eaters almost certainly wouldn't be monitoring Muggle post, I thought it was a pretty crafty plan. The only issue was that the Dursley's might not give Harry his mail, seeing as they loathe him greatly. But he would find a way to get it. Harry always found a way. I would take a walk tomorrow and put it in the postbox. Now that I had a good connection towards Harry, and a good one towards Ron, I was socially and safety-wise all right, just for now. I snuck back into my room and started to work on my Charms essay, for real this time.
The satisfaction of being done was immense as I triple-checked for grammar errors and spelling mistakes. I love being done, particularly when Harry and Ron are suffering all the way through other things. I like to hold it over their heads. I don't think they like it much still. For a finishing touch, I slammed my Charms book shut and put my quill in the inkwell. Then I slipped on my summer pajamas, my endangered animals t-shirt and my plaid boxer shorts and brushed my teeth, put my hair in a ponytail and went and sat downstairs with my parents in the sitting room. I lounged on a loveseat facing the window with my parents opposite me. We were watching the news. I hoped there weren't any killings or disappearances as I sat between my parents. They seemed intent on a home decorating special. I dozed out the window. There was the next-door neighbors white stucco wall, with a rose trellis running up the side. It seemed to get bushier with every passing moment. As I was daydreaming, a black figure darted right past the trellis, climbed the fence and went into our back garden. I leapt out of my seat in anxiety. Was that real or part of my daydream? I couldn't tell. I kissed my parents good night, still fearfully, and went up to bed. My watch displayed 10:08 as I scrambled into bed and closed my eyes.
There was Harry. He was sitting by the water on a perfectly sunny day with Ron and Hermione. They were all laughing. Then came Dumbledore, and the Weasley's, and Tonks and Lupin and Moody. They were all laughing and then Sirius came. Harry gave him a big hug and things turned back to normal. But then the weather turned dark, and an army of Death Eaters, giants, dementors and finally Voldemort arrived. The happy people were all struck down, one by one, and finally it was Harry versus Voldemort. They dueled, but at last Harry, for some reason, lost the will to fight and lay down his wand. Voldemort shot Avada Kedavra at him and then-
"Hermione! Hermione!" a voice called through the window. I shot up, very clammy. There was a very familiar face at the window, with glasses and a mop of black hair and deep green eyes. "Harry? What the hell are you doing here?" I questioned as I moved towards the window. I opened it. "Why are you here? Don't you live in Surrey?"
Harry nodded. "I wanted to see you in person. Owls these days are too dangerous."
"Yes. Speaking of which, come in. I need to show you something," I told him as I opened the window. He clambered in. "How did you get here?"
"I took the muggle tram, then I walked." His stomach grumbled loudly. "You look hungry. Stay here and I'll get you some food." I snuck down the stairs and grabbed him a banana and some biscuits. Quickly going up the stairs, I looked both ways to make sure my parents weren't going anywhere, and then I closed the door of my room quietly. Harry was sitting on the bed. I handed him the banana and the biscuits. "Thanks," he said, nearly inhaling the banana and he pocketed the biscuits. As he did this I got the letters from the desk and gave them to him.
"Read these letters. Which one did you send?"
He read both of them, squinted, and read through them again. "I didn't write any of these, Hermione. I sent you something through the Muggle post two weeks ago."
"It is dreadfully slow sometimes," I said. "I might get it in a few days." He nodded, and yawned. I looked at the clock. 3:23 am. "You can sleep here if you want," I muttered, "My parents leave for work at 8am so we have until about 3pm to work out a plan. For now you're going to have to sleep under my bed or in my closet." He opened the closet. I pulled out an extra blanket. "Have a nice sleep," I said sarcastically as I closed the door and dove into my own bed. I couldn't sleep until I forgot Harry was in the closet. I thought I heard him sniffling as I drifted off into sleep.