A/N: Ummm…enjoy! And I just uploaded 3 chapters at one time so you better appreciate it! Haha.
Chapter 4
Letter from a Friend
Hermione sighed as she dragged her heavy trunk down the misty London street. The noise that the trunk was making against the uneven cobbles on the road caused her to be the attention of the few Muggles that were out doing their shopping, and the fact that she was dragging Crookshanks along in his cage also didn't help. She didn't care; she only wanted to get to the Leaky Cauldron so she could deposit her things and eat dinner.
For the last few weeks she had been staying at her parents' house. She had explained to them all about Harry and Voldemort. They didn't understand any of it. Well of course they didn't, she thought sadly to herself. They're Muggles, they don't know what horrors Voldemort is causing. Of course they know about the Brockdale Bridge and that freak hurricane, but they still don't understand the full impact of it. But at least they had accepted that instead of transferring to another wizarding school, now that Hogwarts had closed, she would be staying with Harry.
Up ahead she saw the familiar entrance to the Leaky Cauldron; only a derelict ruin to Muggle eyes. As she reached the pub, she pushed the door open and a small bell above her head tinkled softly as she entered. The foyer was completely empty except for a small, hiccupping witch in the far corner near the stairs who was drinking from a mug that was steaming with thick, purple smoke, and Tom, the elderly barkeeper who looked up as she walked in. Tom, who was wiping down the counter with a holey rag, smiled feebly at her.
"Would you like a room, miss?" he asked hoarsely as she approached the counter.
"Yes, please," said Hermione. "The dinner menu and a coffee, also."
"Five Galleons, three Sickles," said Tom, abandoning his attempt to wipe the dusty counter. "I'll take this, and be right back." He took her trunk and Crookshanks's cage across the foyer and, with an effort, hauled it up the stairs.
Hermione looked despondently around at the empty pub. At one time, this place would be filled with laughter and joyful conversation as well as many different witches and wizards from all over. The echoes of that laughter and joy rang in her ears and slowly died away, like shadows of something that had once been.
She took a seat at a table near the staircase, and rummaged around in her bag, pulling out a handful of silver and gold coins and separating the amount of money that Tom had asked for. Just as her stomach let out a particularly loud grumble, the barkeeper reappeared on the upstairs landing and toddled down the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing. Hermione sighed and looked out of the window, but could not see far as there was so much fog.
She really needed that coffee.
An hour later, and full of mashed potatoes and shepherd's pie, Hermione was feeling like she needed to get out. Moments later she was tapping her wand on the brick wall in the alley behind the Leaky Cauldron, and it opened for her revealing the wide street of Diagon Alley. The fog was still thick as she stepped out onto the road, squinting around for any sign of life. She saw none.
Half of the shops that lined the streets were boarded up and empty. The other half had bright purple posters in their windows: "A Guide to Self-Defense Against the Dark Arts". The faces of the bunch of escaped Death Eaters still stared out at Hermione as she passed, too. She didn't know why the Ministry bothered to keep the wanted posters up; those Death Eaters would never be caught, and the rest of them would just be escaping from Azkaban any day now. Hermione sighed. Her heart felt heavy.
She passed Flourish and Blott's; a display of fabulous, shimmering golden books was gleaming in the window, along with a handsome eagle-feather quill. Hermione was tempted by the eagle-feather quill, but reminded herself that she would not have many uses for an expensive quill like that in the future. Letting out another deep sigh, she turned the corner and made towards Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, hoping desperately that taking a peek inside the joke shop would cheer her up a bit.
As she rounded the corner, she saw the shop, with its brilliant purple-bricked outside. Drawing nearer, though, she didn't see any of the usual sparks or whirling lights that usually came from the windows. Finally, she stopped right in front of the doorway and read the large sign that had been erected behind the glass of the door: Weasley's Wizard Wheezes will be closed temporarily due to recent events. Hermione's heart sank. Of course. Fred and George were at their parents' house, along with Harry and the rest of the Weasleys. She could hardly bear the thought of them all being together without her, but she had said that she would wait for Harry's letter telling her when he would come collect her. They would be living at Godric's Hollow, as they had discussed at the Weasleys'. Hermione was just a little nervous about this; she didn't know how Harry would react when he saw his parents' graves. She also didn't know what his plan was for when they got there; when were they going to take action against Voldemort?
The thoughts were chilling her, and the desolate appearance of Diagon Alley had done nothing at all to lighten her mood. In fact, it had only made her more miserable. Sighing again, she turned away from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and back toward the Leaky Cauldron. She didn't know what she would do once she got back to the pub, but she knew it was better than staying in this deserted place. As Hermione made her way back down the cobbled street, a black cat streaked in front of her path, hissing and spitting at her as she almost stepped on it.
"Aw, I'm sorry," she said to the cat. She bent down to pet it, but as she did so the cat's hair stood on end, its back in a high arch, and it backed away from her, flying in the opposite direction. Hermione watched the cat dart behind a garbage can farther down the road. Even the cats can't trust anyone anymore, she thought dejectedly.
As soon as she entered her room in the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione collapsed onto the chestnut canopy bed that stood near the window. Crookshanks bounded up on the bed beside her and curled into a neat little ball, purring contentedly as she scratched his head. She wondered bleakly how long it would take Harry to get his affairs in order and write to her. Sitting up suddenly, as though she expected to see Hedwig soar through the window right then, she stared out of the window next to the bed. And to her surprise there was, in fact, an owl flying towards it. But her heart fell as she saw that it was not the familiar snowy white coat that belonged to Hedwig; rather, it was a sleek-looking brown tawny owl. She opened the window hurriedly just in time so that the owl could soar through it and land on her bedside table.
There was an envelope tied to the bird's leg, and Hermione rushed to take it. But as she saw that the envelope was stamped closed with that familiar scarlet seal with an intricate 'H', anticipation left her. She already knew what was written in the letter. As soon as she had detached it, the tawny flew away again out of the open window, and Hermione shut it behind the owl. She broke the seal miserably, knowing that what she would read inside would only make her feel worse than ever. The letter was short and to the point.
Dear Ms. Hermione Granger,
We regret to inform you that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will not be operating this year, due to recent unfortunate events. We ask you to please refrain from returning to the school on September 1st, for the barrier to Platform 9 ¾ will be sealed and the Hogwarts Express will not be functioning. We suggest that you apply to be transferred to another wizarding school to attend until further notice.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Hermione crumpled the piece of parchment in her fist, angry tears springing to her eyes involuntarily. When Dumbledore was alive their lives had not been perfectly happy, but his very being had cast a sort of comfort upon them. She thought about the Sorcerer's Stone in their first year, and the Chamber of Secrets in their second. And how they had met Sirius and Lupin in their third year. Up to that point, she had been scared out of her mind during those times of course, but somehow she knew that no serious harm could come upon her or Harry or Ron while Dumbledore was at Hogwarts. Things had gotten more dangerous in fourth year, with the Triwizard Tournament and Barty Crouch, but still, Dumbledore had been there which gave her great comfort. And even more trivial was their excursion to the Department of Mysteries in their fifth year, but then Dumbledore had turned up there too, in the end, even if lives had been cost. The closest Hermione thought she had ever felt to being hopeless was last year with the Death Eaters when she had known that Dumbledore was out of the school. She thought back hopelessly to Harry's suspicions that Malfoy had been up to something, and how she and Ron and regarded them as though they were slightly ridiculous. Why, oh why didn't we listen to him? Hermione thought desperately. If we had, Dumbledore might still be alive and Hogwarts might still be open…
Hermione blinked and felt warm tears stream down both of her cheeks. She turned and buried her face into the feather pillow on her bed, grasping the sheets in her fists. Feeling a suffocating wave of emotion cloud her brain, she screamed into the pillow and felt tears start to flow freely from her eyes. Crookshanks leapt back up onto the bed next to her, purring in her ear. Lifting her head from the pillow, Hermione began to stroke his silky orange head.
"Oh, Crookshanks," she whispered as he purred continually louder. A lump formed in her throat. "What am I going to do?"
But suddenly something caught her eye. Sitting up slowly, hardly daring to believe it, Hermione squinted out of the window, trying to focus through the blinding light of the brilliant red and orange sunset. And then she saw: a rush of snow-white feathers gracefully soaring towards the window.
"Hedwig!" she gasped, lifting the glass pane so that Harry's owl could come through and land on her bedside table, just as the school owl had done.
Hermione rushed to untie the letter from Hedwig's leg. She noticed that it was considerably thicker than the school letter had been, at which she felt her spirits rise slightly. Before opening the envelope, she poured some water out of the jug near her bed and into Crookshanks's shallow and empty food dish, pushing it towards Hedwig. The owl took a long drink and hooted thankfully at Hermione.
Hermione brought the letter over to her bed, sat down, and opened it. It was indeed Harry's familiar scrawl, which never ceased to make her smile.
Hermione,
How are you? I've missed you most of the summer, I'm really sorry that I haven't had a chance to write before now. And I never got a chance to tell you that I really appreciated that you were there for my birthday, it wouldn't have been the same without you. And thanks for the gifts, I haven't started reading the book yet, but I know I will get around to it. And the Everlasting Lollipops are great, I'm never going to run out of sweets again.
Mr. Weasley still hasn't been around here much. Or at all. He always leaves before anyone is up, and everyone's always asleep before he comes home. Mrs. Weasley has done a few Cheering Charms on him and they work alright, but you should be here Hermione, no one can do a Cheering Charm better than you. She also tried to get him to drink a Pepperup potion that she made herself, but he wouldn't touch it, and I don't blame him….It's been about three days since she made it, and there's still bloody orange smoke clouding everything up.
To tell the truth, I could use a Cheering Charm myself. My scar burned really badly last night, something it hasn't done in months…and I never know what my scar burning means anymore. I can't get snatches of what Voldemort is feeling anymore, he's made sure of that. So I don't know what it means, but I suppose it doesn't matter much anymore.
I still need to visit the Dursleys' house once more and straight after that is Bill and Fleur's wedding. I figure you can come for the wedding, and then you, Ron, and I can head off. Send Hedwig back telling me what you think.
Love always,
Harry
Hermione smiled at the thought of a wedding. She put Harry's letter back in its envelope, pulled out a roll of parchment and a quill, sat down at the bedside table and began to write.
A/N: I honestly thought this chapter was going to be longer…I had so many things planned in my head for it, but only parts of those things could come out on paper. But hoped you like this, the next chapter will be here soon! Read and review: the good, the bad, and the ugly.