A/N: I've been a bit lax with these lately, haven't I? Thanks so much to everyone who's reviewed! It really makes my day!
Oh - and look closely at Hermione's phone number and see if you notice anything about it!
Disclaimer: I've been getting lax with these also. Everything Harry quoted from Dumbledore in the previous chapter came from Harry Potters 1-3. The trusting Dumbledore line was in ... book four or five, I'm not sure. Either way, those quotes are owned by JK Rowling, as is Harry Potter and his universe.
Chapter 4 – Conversations With Hermione
"I'm not … special," Harry said. "I mean," he hurried on, not wanting to be labeled as having an extremely low self esteem, "I guess I'm special, but not in that way."
May I see your wand for a moment, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, reaching out for it.
"What are you going to do with it?" Harry asked suspiciously.
"Just look, that's all, I promise."
'If we can't trust Dumbledore, we can't trust anyone.'
Harry handed over his wand. Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches.
Dumbledore examined it closely.
After a long moment, the older man looked up at Harry, something like sadness burning in his eyes.
"Might I ask where you got this?"
"At a magic shop," Harry said, taking it upon himself to re-introduce Dumbledore to the wizarding world. "Ollivanders, makers of fine wands since 382 BC.
"Harry – this is a stick."
"What? No it's not! Look, I'll show you!"
Harry was halfway out of his seat when he remembered.
"Oh, I can't do magic now – it's summer."
"Excuse me?"
"Underaged wizards aren't allowed to do magic outside school," Harry explained patiently.
"I see," Dumbledore said, marking something down on a piece of paper.
"But I really can do magic," Harry insisted. "I got nine OWLs!"
"Owls?"
"They're tests," he said. "Standardized tests. The most you can get is twelve."
"So you did well, then?"
"Suppose."
Dumbledore continued taking notes. "Now, I think we need to discuss the issue of where you're going to stay this summer. You can stay at the school for a few weeks, but it would be nice for you to get out of here for the summer.
"I … don't have anywhere to go," Harry said haltingly.
"Your parents had no friends? You have no friends?"
Harry stiffened. "My dad had three friends, two are dead and one – Hermione!"
"Pardon?"
"Hermione Granger – my friend," Harry cried excitedly. "I have her number right here, I always carry it around, just in case." Harry pulled a slip of paper out of his back pocket. "May I – use your phone?"
"By all means."
"Harry reached over to the desktop phone and dialed 302-723. He fiddled with the card as it rang once … twice … three times … the fourth ring was cut short and he heard Hermione's familiar voice on the line.
"Hello?"
There was music playing in the background – and it didn't sound like Celestina Warbeck or the Weird Sisters – and the sound of girls giggling.
"It's me! You won't believe this, everything's changed –"
"Who is this?"
Harry was taken aback. He waved off the unease stirring in his stomach. True, he'd never called her before, maybe his voice was different on the phone. "It's Harry."
"Harry …?"
"Potter."
"Do I know you?"
"Hermione, we've only been best friends for six years. Listen, I'm in a bit of trouble and was wondering if –"
"How did you get this number?" Hermione shrieked. The girls in the background had stopped laughing.
"You gave it to me!"
"Don't you dare call here again!" Hermione cried, slamming down the receiver forcefully.
Harry looked up at Dumbledore, dazed. "She – she hung up on me," he whispered." She didn't even recognize me!"
Dumbledore nodded as though he understood. "Come, Harry," he said, "let me take you to your dormitory. We'll sort this all out tomorrow."
Harry moved as if in a dream. Hermione, Hermione, had hung up the phone on him. She'd slammed the phone down as if he was something dreadful to talk to. Or worse, someone not worth her time.
And maybe he wasn't. Not in the alternate universe where Dumbledore worked at St. Brutus', Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon paid for his school, and Hermione didn't want to talk to him.
His insides numb, Harry let himself be led out of Dumbledore's office, down a long white hallway, and into another room that he somehow knew was supposed to be his dormitory. The beds were made of iron painted white and were covered with brown bedspreads.
"I'll see you at lunch," Dumbledore said, closing the door and leaving Harry all alone.
