Chapter 3: The Wright Brothers
The blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore took Hermione in, as she entered the room. She looked over its occupants, her movements calculating and graceful. Beside Dumbledore the Transfiguration teacher of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall sat. Her lips were pursed, and she looked exhausted. Next to her was Mr. And Mrs. Weasley, along with their rudely awaken sons Fred and George. On the opposite side sat Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, her parents, and Professor Severus Snape.
She was surprised to see Snape sitting here, rather than being with his fellow Death Eaters after destroying her block.
"Accio chair," she said softly. A comfortable looking chair appeared next to her, and she plopped herself in it. There was a silence that slowly started to infuriate the young witch. She turned to Dumbledore, her eyes piercing accusingly at him. "Where was our guard?"
He sat there, contemplating his answer. She glared at him once more, hardly surprised by her bravery. "Well?"
"I'm afraid there was a diversion," he replied solemnly.
"A diversion. You have got to be kidding me," she answered rudely.
"Hermione!" her mother scolded.
"No. He promise. He promised our house was to be watched and guarded. He said we were to be safe. A diversion? You've got TO BE KIDDING ME! A first year could have figured that one out. And what about wards? I had to put mine own up? Fantastic. Bloody fantastic!" She nearly hollered. "The only reason I am not about to blow my top is because two little boys are trying to get rest after they lost their parents in an inferno! Know they are the only reason at this point," she warned.
"Who are those boys?" Molly asked.
"Those boys are Ian and Evan Wright. They were my next-door neighbors. They are identical twin boys that are nearly eleven on the tenth of August. And you know what else? They're wizards!" The room gasped, and looked expectantly at Dumbledore. He looked shocked at the news.
"How so?" He asked.
"How so?" She imitated. "Well, this morning when I heard them whispering and crying on the other side of the fence that split our yards, I saw wandless magic before my eyes. A blue and green sphere surrounded them both, and a low humming could be heard. It was nearly the exact same thing I produced when I was seven and about to be hit by another kid. A protection sphere. I was able to get through it because they trusted me. When they were younger, one stopped a car from hitting him and the other stopped two dogs from chasing them. I don't know what else shows a sign of magic."
She was breathing deeply, her face probably red with anger. She cared for those two boys like they were her younger brothers. They were near replicas of their parents. They owned bright blue eyes, dark and straight brown hair, and were lean. For their age, they were quite handsome. What was more appealing was their wit and intelligence at such a young age. Although they goofed around and tried acting brave, they had a very soft side. The same side was shown when the fires had begun. She looked around the room once more, and noticed everyone whispering frantically.
"Are they to be enrolled in Hogwarts?" She asked finally. Dumbledore nodded his head slowly.
"A simple spell will be able to identify whether or not they are wizards. Who will be there guardians though?" He asked.
"We will be more than willing," Mr. Granger began, "to take care of them. Hermione, I'm assuming, would like to be there guardian once she is of age in September?"
"I would like that. I will ask the boys first," she said finally smiling.
"Well, that's settled. Is there anything-" the Headmaster began. He was cut off by a loud boom from the front door. Hermione's stomach fluttered oddly. As they all were about to get up to see what it was, the boom's source walked into the kitchen.
He was definitely not a happy camper.
His emerald eyes were blazing fiercely, his innocent snowy owl hooting affectionately. He held his trusty Firebolt, which he recently got back, in one hand. In his other was his packed trunk and birdcage. She had only seen him this upset when he dueled.
Harry Potter had busted out.
He dropped all of his things, and despite the full crowd that inhabited the room, he strode over to Hermione. She hadn't even noticed she was standing. He embraced her tightly, tighter than Mrs. Weasley could ever manage. She didn't complain though, for her heart was thumping madly in her chest.
"Are you all right?" He whispered into her ear. A shiver went through her, causing her to tremble. That made him hold on tighter.
"I'm all right now," she whispered back. His scent engulfed her; between the muggle cologne she had gotten him and just…Harry.
"Are you sure?" He asked, finally looking into her eyes. Her breath caught, and she nodded shyly. He smiled and then looked at the other occupants. He set her back down on the ground gently and stood in front of her.
"What are you doing here Harry?" Dumbledore asked stunned.
"I'm here because my best friend was attacked, when she should not have been. I was informed that they were going after her, and she later told me she was here. So I, being the rightful heir to this house, decided to come home," he said coldly. The members of the Order gaped at him, their eyes wide. "I rather not talk about this anymore until the sun has risen and we've all been rested. Mione?" He said gently, looking behind him. He held out his hand, which she took instinctively. She helped him carry his things upstairs, where it was relatively silent once more. They wordlessly walked into Harry's master bedroom that had been decked out Gryffindor style by Sirius.
It was a fairly large room, with hardwood floors and solid oak furniture. A king size four-poster bed was the finest piece of furniture in the entire room. It had deep maroon curtains, with gold strings to keep closed or open. Carved inside the bed were majestic lions that would roar every now and then. It was an entire pack that roamed through the jungle of the bed. A heavy bedspread with the Gryffindor House Crest was embroidered in gold. Next to the bedroom was an adjoining bathroom, done in the exact same way.
Harry gestured to the bed, while he began to unpack all of his things. Hermione watched silently, very confused at the evenings occurrences.
"I saw it," she said softly, nearly inaudible. He looked up sharply at her, his brows furrowed.
"You saw what, exactly?" He asked. She sighed and rubbed her temples.
"The dream. I saw the dream. I saw Voldemort gathering Lucius Malfoy in order to attack me. I saw him put Bellatrix to the side and act…caringly towards her. I saw it all, and I think he almost noticed I was there."
There was a loud thud, and in an instant, Harry was kneeling beside her. His green eyes searched her chocolate ones.
"You're not joking are you?" He asked. She shook her head. "I saw it too. The exact same thing. How could you see it?"
She shrugged. "I've felt an uneasy tension all summer. I felt like something bad was going to happen. I'd stay up every night and watch over the street until I'd practically fall over from sleeplessness. He said we were going to be protected," she whispered, tears welling in her eyes.
"It's my fault," he said gently. He had set his hands upon her knees, and was now staring up at her intently.
"No it's not," she scolded lightly, slapping at his hands. Before she could pull them away, he grasped them. She looked down at him, causing a few tears to stray down her cheeks. "You weren't the one instructing them to come to my house. Nothing is your fault. The only thing that is your fault is the fact that you blame yourself for everything. Listen to me, I'm always right." He smiled affectionately at her.
"Where are you sleeping?" He asked. Hermione bit her lip, arguing with herself.
"I got to go back to Ginny's room," she replied, looking down. He nodded his head and stood up, now towering over her. She hadn't noticed how friggon tall he had gotten! He was about six foot now. His hair was as wild as ever, his green eyes now shining with warmth. His body was fit from Quidditch, no doubt. Her cheeks reddened at the thought. Why was she thinking like this? Why was her heart fluttering every five seconds? And why did she see that dream? She shook the thoughts away, and stood up, leading him out the door. He walked her to her room, and they stood outside her door. Each was contemplating on what to do.
"You'll meet the boys later," she began. He looked up sharply.
"Boys?" He asked. She hit her head with her hand and nodded.
"Remember from my letter a couple of minutes ago," she said smirking. "I was able to save my two next door neighbors. They're twin boys, nearly eleven. And to top it off, they're wizards," she said smiling. His jaw dropped and he ran a hand through his hair.
"Are you serious? Wow." There was a silence, and a sly grin crept on his face. "Are they nice?"
"You'll love them. I hope you don't mind-" she started.
"Not at all. Get a good night sleep, ok?" He asked. She nodded and was then pulled in a hug. She felt so safe when he hugged her this way.
"Good night," she replied back. He walked back to his room, and when he reached his door, he smiled.
Hermione walked into her room and plopped on her bed. There were so many thoughts swarming her brain. Why was she able to see the dream? What about Harry? The boys? Her parents? Her house? She flipped onto her stomach and looked across the room. Ginny was still sound asleep, as if nothing had happened. Had this not happened, they'd all be at the Burrow having fun playing in the yard. The boys would be playing Quidditch, and Molly would make big dinners to eat outside in the warm summer's air as the sun set.
The thought of such an environment started to lull the brown-eye witch. The last thing she saw before falling asleep was the face of a certain raven-haired wizard smiling with mirth, as the sun set.
Not another fucking dream, she thought. There was an old looking castle on a fairly large hill in the middle of nowhere. The smell of fresh rain filled her nose, comforting her for a split second. She was in the castle's courtyard where the group of Death Eaters that attacked her house were kneeling to the Dark Lord. He looked rather unhappy. Good, she thought.
"What of the mudblood?" Voldemort asked.
A hand wrapped around her mouth and her waist, silencing her scream and her shock. Despite the dream, his scent surrounded her. She relaxed and felt his head rest on her shoulder.
'Try not to think, he might notice us,' he said quietly. She nodded and they watched Lucius Malfoy struggle with an answer.
"Well?" Voldemort asked impatiently.
"They were not home My Lord," Lucius replied. "We found this."
He handed the paper to the Dark Lord, who read it. His face contorted into rage, and his red gleaming eyes looking over his followers.
"They weren't home? Goyle!" He cried. The larger man stepped forward, his face emotionless.
"Yes My Lord?" He asked.
"You have failed me Goyle. You said they were home. That is no excuse. Crucio!" he roared.
The man fell to the ground twitching in pain. Voldemort left the curse on for a minute before removing it. The man on the ground twitched slightly before crawling away. Their Lord looked to Malfoy, who clenched his jaw.
"You have failed me as well. Crucio!" Malfoy twitched uncontrollably as well, a scream never escaping him. He took it off Malfoy and looked at the other men.
"You are all lucky your leaders suffer, rather than all of you. You can't kill a simple mudblood. Shame, shame. We will have to come up with another way to hit Potter. Now, I suggest you go before I lost my temper. GO!" He roared once more. The men disapparated away quickly, leaving the Dark Lord alone.
"One day Potter. One day," he said. He disappeared as well, and soon the dream faded away.
Hermione gasped sitting bolt right up. She went to claw the sheets, which was pretty difficult since she made contact with a bare chest. What the fuck? She felt an arm slither its way around her waist, as said stranger sat up.
"How did I get here?"
"How did you get here?"
Hermione looked at Harry, her mouth open wide. She looked around and noticed she was in his bed in his room. She noticed he looked pretty disheveled; his glasses were now placed haphazardly on his face.
"Were you really in the dream?" She asked. He nodded and scratched his head.
"This can't be too good if we're going into the same dreams. I don't get it," he muttered. "What time is it?" He asked.
"No idea," she said, falling back and hitting the soft pillow. He glanced down at her and got up. He opened the curtains and saw the sun was already shining brightly. Harry got back into bed and stared at Hermione, who was trying to stop a yawn. He smirked and pulled the covers back up.
"Do we have to get up?" she asked sighing. He shrugged and closed his eyes. "Hey!" she said, poking his collarbone.
"Ow!" He yelped. "What?"
"You were ignoring me," she huffed. He nodded and closed his eyes again, a grin breaking onto his face.
"Harry James Potter, I swear to-"
"Where's Hermione?" A voice yelped in the hallway. The sound of their other best friend's voice echoed loudly.
"Oh shit," Hermione hissed. Harry's eyes were wide. The predicament they were in would not look to…appropriate.
"You just cussed," he said in awe. She hit his arm and started looking around.
"What are we going to do?" She panicked. He looked around, his eyes finally resting on the chair.
"Grab the chair, sit by the bed and pretend you're talking to me," he whispered. She nodded and hopped out of the bed before dragging the chair beside Harry. He fixed the pillows so it looked like she had not slept there.
"Hermione?" Ron practically yelled.
"Ronald!" Hermione yelled back, looking at Harry. She motioned for him to fix his glasses.
"Where the bloody hells are you?" He interrogated.
"Come on in Ron," Harry said. "Patefacio ianua."
The door opened, and Ron stormed in, his flaming red hair a mess and his blue eyes wild.
"Where were you?" He asked forcefully. She raised a brow at him.
"I was outside playing Quidditch. Honestly Ronald! Who are you to question where I was?" She said annoyed. "I heard Harry waking up and I decided to stop in and say hello. Is that all right with you Mother?" His ears turned red and he looked down at his feet.
"Mum said lunch is on in a half hour," he said simply. She huffed and got up. Before passing him, she gave him a quick hug and kept walking. A feeling of anger welled up in her out of nowhere. She continued to her own room, which was now vacant. A good shower would perhaps settle things down.
The summer had started out pretty strange. And it looked like the future wasn't going to get any better.