While Hermione was enjoying her summer, she noticed that Harry had stopped responding to her letters. Somewhat concerned, Hermione called the number Harry had given her one evening. A polite woman greeted her with "Dursley residence," and Hermione bid her a good evening before asking if she might speak to Harry Potter.
There was a gasp, then a loud ruckus in the background, and then a frantic man yelling at her that there was no Harry Potter that lived there, to leave his family alone, and to never speak to him again - before the phone was slammed down, hard.
Hermione had stared at her own phone for a long moment, before carefully replacing the receiver in its cradle.
That had not been the reaction she expected.
Harry not answering her letters was worrying. His relatives denying he lived there was flat-out alarming.
Hermione gnawed at her lip, thinking.
The first thing she'd need to do would be investigate exactly what was going on. She couldn't make any plans without knowing exactly what she was dealing with.
Remembering her lesson from her ritual circle, Hermione approached her parents, suggesting she might visit a friend on Friday evening and return later the next day.
"He lives with his family, and he's terribly unhappy there," she said, urging. "He's not allowed to leave, and having a friend there would mean a lot to him."
Her parents looked at each other, sharing a weighted look, conversing without a word.
"This is Harry Potter?" her mother asked.
"Yes," Hermione said. "He lives with his Muggle relatives, who took him in after his parents were killed. They're not fans of magic."
"Mister Harry Potter?" her father emphasized, narrowing his eyes.
Hermione caught his drift, and her face flared red.
"I'm not going to spend the night like that!" Hermione said, horrified. "It's just- I have my internship until late Friday afternoon, and Harry has to do chores the latter half of Saturday, so I thought if I went over after dinner-"
"Where will you be staying?" her mother asked, and Hermione's face flamed.
"Not in Harry's bedroom, if that's what you're asking!" she declared. "They have- they have another place where I can sleep-"
That was true; Harry had mentioned how he'd used to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs. The fact that Hermione didn't intend to sleep in it wasn't something she mentioned.
Her parents looked at each other and sighed.
"This is very important to you, isn't it?" her mother said. Her eyes looked heavy.
"It is," Hermione insisted. "It really is."
"Do you have a way to get there and back?" her father asked. "Or are we expected to-"
"There's a magic bus I can take," Hermione said. "I can pay the fare from my internship wages easily. It comes at all hours."
Her parents exchanged another glance.
"You are intending to go this Friday?" her father asked. "In two days?"
"Well, yes…"
Her mother snorted and stood up, dusting her clothes off, before folding her arms and giving Hermione a look.
"You may go," she told her.
"Yes!"
"-if you come with me," her mother finished. "Right now."
Hermione blinked but stood up, obliging. Her father smirked, but Hermione followed her mother.
"Where are we going?" Hermione asked.
Her mother looked back at her as they climbed the stairs, but she didn't answer.
They ended up in her parents' bedroom. Hermione sat on her parents' bed, and to her surprise, her mother sat on the bed as well, folding her legs elegantly.
"I trust you," her mother told her, "but you are not going to a boy's house to spend the night without having had this conversation with me."
She fixed Hermione with a look, and Hermione's face flamed.
"Mum! You've already told me all about sex!"
"Yes, but as an abstract, at a high level," her mother told her. "You certainly don't know the specifics yet."
"I haven't had my period yet!" Hermione objected, horrified. "I can't even have sex yet!"
"See, that right there is why we need to have this conversation," her mother said pointedly. "You certainly can have sex; you're just unlikely to get pregnant. But you certainly have all the necessary anatomy, Hermione."
Hermione's face burned red, and she gave a long, exasperated sigh of defeat. "Fine. Hang on."
Her mother gave her a quizzical look as Hermione dragged herself to her feet and left the room, returning a moment later with a muggle notebook and a set of colored pens.
"Are- are you going to take notes?" her mother said, staring.
"Well, if I'm going to want to have sex someday, I may as well be good at it." Hermione opened her notebook, looking at the pens on the coverlet and selecting a green one. "If I write things down, I'll be able to reference my notes someday if I have a question about something, like if I'm at school and you're not readily available."
She looked up at her mother, who was watching her with a blank expression. Hermione blinked.
"…is that not a good idea?" Hermione asked, gnawing on her lip.
Slowly, her mother began to laugh.
"Oh, Hermione," she said, reaching over and rustling Hermione's curls. "I love you. Never change."
Hermione's face was red when her mother pulled her hand back, but she was able to suppress her embarrassment by firmly putting her mind into academic mode as her mother began to talk about the mechanics of sexual acts, the psychology of attraction, and how avoid getting pregnant or catching a disease, with Hermione taking notes all the while.