Chapter 3: The Long Ride Back
The next morning, Hermione woke somewhat later than usual. Sunlight was already streaming in through the window. She dressed slowly, then walked downstairs, hoping beyond hope that Harry had changed his mind, and contacted Dumbledore. Deep down, though, she knew this was unlikely.
She opened the door to the dining room, and could tell by the glum look on everyone's faces that she had been correct. Both Ginny and Mrs. Weasley looked as though they had been crying, and the usually irrepressible twins were sitting quietly at the table, picking disinterestedly at the breakfast set in front of them.
Hermione knew that Mr. Weasley would have already left for work, but that still left one person unaccounted for. "Where's Ron?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
"Out with Remus looking for Harry," Mrs. Weasley replied.
"Do they have an idea where he is?" Hermione asked quickly, hope flaring up inside of her.
But Mrs. Weasley just shook her head. "They're beginning the search at Little Winging, then they'll spread out to some of the neighboring towns." She looked at Hermione intensely. "Are you certain that Harry has never mentioned anything that might give a clue as to where he would go?"
"Don't you think I would say something if I had any ideas?" Hermione said, growing angry despite of her attempts to stay calm.
"I'm sorry, dear," Mrs. Weasley said quickly. "I know this has been hard on you, too."
Hermione sat down at the table, disappointed. Mrs. Weasley quickly summoned some food from the kitchen and onto a plate, which she floated over to Hermione. She knew that she should eat something, but she found she was no more interested in the food than the twins.
"The problem is that Harry's not afraid to go somewhere or do something he's never done before," Hermione said, half to herself. It was one of the things that she had always admired about Harry. He had quickly learned to fly on a broomstick, even before being taught. In their third year, he had been the first in the class willing to approach the fearsome looking hippogriffs that Hagrid had brought for their Care of Magical Creatures class. And just this past year, he had had to fight a dragon, monstrous spiders, and hordes of other dangerous creatures as part of the Triwizard Tournament. After all that, she didn't think that the idea of traveling somewhere new on his own would frighten Harry at all. "I don't think that we're going to find him until he wants to be found," she said quietly.
Mrs. Weasley looked concerned for a minute, but forced a smile. "It will be fine, don't you worry. He's not the first child to run away. Remember, he's still underage. Sooner or later, he'll have to do some magic, and when he does, the Ministry will be able to detect it."
Hermione shook her head slowly. "Harry was raised as a muggle. He doesn't need magic. He got along just fine without it for 11 years."
"Don't fret, dear, everything will turn out fine," Mrs. Weasley said kindly. But Hermione could see in her eyes that she didn't believe it.
Everyone turned to look as the twins stood suddenly. "I remember Harry once saying something about accidentally using magic to free a snake from a zoo," George said excitedly.
"Maybe he's gonna go back, revisit the old haunts," Fred suggested. They both turned to their mother. "We're gonna go check it out," the twins said in unison, as though they had practiced it. With two loud pops, they were gone.
"I want to help," Hermione said. Mrs. Weasley smiled at her. "I'm sure you do, dear, but you need to eat first. Hestia Jones is going to be coming by headquarters later this morning. Perhaps she can take you out looking."
For the next week, Hermione and the Weasley children went out, accompanied, of course, by members of the Order, to look for Harry anywhere they could think of. Even though, deep down, Hemione was convinced that they wouldn't find Harry unless he wanted to be found, it was still nice to be doing something rather than stay cooped up in the house.
The evening of the 11th, Mr. Weasley came home, and sat down at the table, looking somewhat thinner and paler than usual. "Harry's hearing is scheduled for tomorrow," he announced to no one in particular. Dumbledore had decided not to alert the Ministry to Harry's disappearance, one decision that Hermione finally agreed with. "They sent an owl to his aunt and uncle's house, changing the time and place..." his voice trailed off.
"What happens if he doesn't go to the hearing, Dad?" Ginny asked apprehensively.
"I don't know. That could be viewed as a sign of guilt, but I don't know if they really want to press the issue. I think their main goal was to silence and discredit him." Mr Weasley drew a deep breath. "Harry disappearing like that, well, I think that gave them exactly what they wanted."
They had not seen hide nor hair of Sirius since the night he had stormed out of the meeting. She knew that was not necessarily a problem. He had been on the run before, and had several abilities that not even the Ministry knew about. However, the real problem with Sirius being gone was Kreacher.
Kreacher was the old house elf that had served the Blacks his whole life. As a house elf, he was bound by magic to serve the rightful owner of the house, but he did not try to hide his displeasure that his current master was Sirius. Hermione felt the use of house elves was one of the most shameful parts of the wizarding world, viewing it as something akin to slavery. Last year at school, she had even started a group to try to push for house elf rights. However, sometimes, Kreacher tried even her patience. With Sirius absent, Kreacher refused to listen to anyone, instead working to restore the house to the horrid state it had been in before the Order had taken over. Tonks had attempted to give him orders, as she was connected to the Black family through her mother, but apparently that connection was too tenuous for Kreacher.
All in all, what had once been an exciting adventure had become something akin to torture. Between worrying about Harry and fretting over what horrid things Kreacher was doing at nights, Hermione was miserable. But the worst came early on the morning of the 13th.
As usual, she awoke early to pay the owl that delivered the Daily Prophet. Though she despised the way that they mocked Harry and Dumbledore at every opportunity, she still read it, if only to keep aware of what the enemy was saying. When she opened the paper that morning, she wasn't surprised, but it still made her feel sick to her stomach when she saw the headline of the front page article.
"The Boy Who Ran"
Wanting nothing more than to scream, she quickly scanned the article, pausing a few times at some of the more outrageous statements to calm her temper. Fudge trying to give Harry every chance to explain his actions? Harry destroying the Dursley's possessions in a fit of rage as he left? Last year, a journalist named Rita Skeeter had reported on the Triwizard Tournament, and it was she who had begun the crusade against Harry, accusing him of being unstable and dangerous. It was sickening to see her lies being retold and expanded on. Hermione just prayed that wherever he was, Harry wasn't reading the Prophet anymore.
Throwing the paper angrily against the wall, she got dressed quickly, and stormed down to the kitchen. Tonks was there, reading the paper, and looking tired. Hermione shot her an inquiring look.
"I've been up all night," Tonks said. "Guard duty for the Order," she added when she saw Hermione's confused look, but neglected to explain any further.
Hermione fixed a cup of tea, and sat down, glaring maliciously at the paper. Tonk's must have seen her expression, for she nodded her agreement. "Yeah, it's pretty nasty stuff they wrote." She shrugged her shoulders. "But on the plus side, at least the Ministry has decided not to try to hunt Harry down. He'll still be in trouble if he comes back..." She blinked as she realized what she had just said. "When he comes back, I mean, but for now, he's fine." Seeing that Hermione was unconvinced, she added, "But it'll be okay. Sooner or later, everyone is going to find out the truth about You-Know-Who, and they'll know that Harry was telling the truth."
Hermione gazed at the paper. Unlike muggle pictures, wizarding pictures moved. She could still see the front picture, Fudge standing triumphantly at the press conference on Harry's disappearance, a broad smile on his fat face. She wanted nothing more than to hex him.
Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she turned her attention once more to the tea in front of her. Then a thought occurred to her, a little nagging doubt that she had had while reading the article. "Tonks," she began hesitantly, "when you were at the house, did it look like Harry had... destroyed things like the article said?" Tonks eyes opened wide in shock, and Hermione quickly added, "Not that I think Harry would. It's just, he was so angry, and, I mean, I wouldn't have ever thought he would run away, either."
Tonks shook her head. "No, Harry didn't destroy anything." She blushed, slightly. "It was probably me. I accidentally tripped and broke a plate when we first got there. You know how clumsy I am." While Hermione had noticed that Tonks seemed to be a little more accident prone than most people, she had never really thought of her as clumsy. Of course, Hermione admitted, she herself was not what most people would call well-coordinated. "I meant to fix it, but that was right when we realized that Harry was gone. I completely forgot," Tonks finished.
Hermione finished her tea in silence, and Tonks went upstairs to get a few hours' sleep before heading in to work.
Just a few more weeks until school starts, Hermione thought to herself. Of course, she wasn't sure exactly how school was supposed to make her feel better. It would be nice to be living back at the dormitory instead of this horrid house, but it wouldn't change the fact that one of her best friends was missing.
The weeks passed slowly, until it was almost time to leave for school. Every year, no matter how much Ron and Harry had teased her, she loved getting the new list of required textbooks. This year, however, she hardly even glanced at the page. Even the news that she had been selected as prefect did nothing to lift her spirits.
She walked down to breakfast. She had almost finished when the door slid open, and Ron entered, looking a little bit shocked. Seeing her questioning look, he held up a scarlet and gold prefect's badge. Hermione forced a smile.
"Ron, congratulations! Prefect, that's wonderful. Me, too," she finished lamely.
Ron sat down heavily, still looking at the badge. "It's not like it's real," he finally said. "I mean, Dumbledore didn't really want me for prefect."
Hermione didn't know how to respond. "Don't be silly, Ronald," she finally said. "Dumbledore wouldn't have chosen you otherwise."
Ron gave her a skeptical look. "Can you honestly say that you think if Harry were here, I'd still be the one holding this badge?" he asked, looking right at her.
Hermione blushed. Deep down, she knew he had a point. Ron was a good wizard, and did better than average in most of his classes (with a fair amount of help from Hermione, to be honest) but it was impossible to imagine Dumbledore choosing Ron over Harry.
"I'm just a place-holder," Ron said in a dejected voice. "Dumbledore chose me because he knows that if my best mate shows up again, I won't complain if he switches and makes Harry prefect instead."
Hermione tried to think of something to say, but Ron didn't seem to want to talk about it. Excusing herself, she went upstairs to send an owl to her parents to let them know the news.
All in all, it was a dispirited group that made their way to King's Cross Station the next day. As she walked slowly through the fake wall that lead to platform 9¾, Hermione felt hollow inside. She had first met Harry on the train on the way to Hogwarts four years ago. She remembered sitting in that compartment with he and Ron, watching as Ron attempted to turn his rat Scabbers (who, it had turned out, had really been the Animagus Peter Pettigrew) yellow. They had all been so young then. It felt like a lifetime ago.
She looked around, half hoping that she would somehow see Harry. With all of the memories that this place brought back, it was like she could feel him nearby. But she knew that was impossible.
Tonks and Mad-Eye helped them load their luggage onto the train, then walked back through the barrier. "Now you lot be careful," Mrs. Weasley was saying as she gave each of her children a hug. Hermione was amused to see that Ron was still clutching his new broomstick, a gift from his parents for being chosen as prefect.
They boarded the train, and she and Ron made her way to the front where the Prefects were to meet. She had a suspicion of who else she would see there, but she was still disappointed to discover that she had been correct.
"Why, Granger, Weasley," the familiar voice said in his typical drawl. "So nice to see you. I was worried all of the Gryffindors were going to be running away." She ignored Draco Malfoy's taunts, and sat down without a word. Draco, however, was not finished. "Congratulations, Weasley. Never figured you'd get the badge. Of course, Dumbledore's obviously scraping the bottom of the barrel. How does it feel to know you're just the back-up?" Pansy Parkinson, the Slytherin girl seated next to Draco, gave an obnoxious laugh. Ron's ears turned pink, but he didn't say a word.
An hour later, they were finally excused from the prefect's meeting. They moved quickly through the train, looking for an open compartment. She tried to ignore the whispers as people noticed them. It was common knowledge that she and Ron had been friends with Harry, and now, people were looking at them suspiciously. Probably think we're as dangerous as the Prophet has been telling them Harry is, Hermione thought to herself angrily.
Finally, they found the compartment where Ginny was sitting with Neville Longbottom, an absentminded friend of theirs. There was another girl in the compartment as well, one whom Hermione did not know.
"This is Luna Lovegood," Ginny said, gesturing to the girl. "She's my year, but in Ravenclaw." Luna looked up, her eyes distorted by the strange glasses she was wearing. "Luna, this is my brother Ron and our friend, Hermione," Ginny finished. Luna smiled politely, then returned her attention to the magazine she was reading. Hermione tried to suppress a laugh, wondering why on earth a Ravenclaw would be reading absolute rubbish like the Quibbler.
The students at Hogwarts were divided into four houses, based on their characteristics. Ravenclaw house valued knowledge, which Luna was certainly not gaining by reading that rag of newspaper, Hermione thought. Gryffindor house, of which she, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Harry were members, valued courage and chivalry. Hufflepuff House emphasized loyalty, while the much hated Slytherin house seemed to care about nothing except how many of a person's ancestors had belonged to prominent wizarding families. Naturally, they considered muggle-born students like Hermione to be second-class citizens.
Though on principle, Hermione disagreed with the four-house system and the inevitable conflict and divisiveness it promoted, she still had to admit that even if they were all in one house together, she would never be friends with most of the Slytherins. Especially Draco. He and Harry had been enemies almost since their first day of school, and the mutual hatred and grown in the years since. Though she knew that Dumbledore valued every student, and tried to see the good in them all, she still could not imagine why he had chosen such a despicable person as prefect.
There were no attempts to make small talk in the compartment. Silence, instead, reigned for almost the entire trip. A few times, Neville looked like he was about to say something, but still, never uttered a word. Hermione gazed out the window forlornly, wondering where Harry might be. She hoped that he was safe, and happy, somehow. Perhaps he was enjoying his new-found freedom, celebrating the fact that he was no longer the object of scorn, the subject of so many whispers. Perhaps he had met new friends, and started a new life, away from the tragedy of his past. Though the idea that her friend had truly broken away from the wizarding world made her despondant, she tried to convince herself that it was true. A few tears slowly rolled down her cheeks, but she quickly wiped them away with her sleeve, and began to study her new Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook.
After several hours, the train slowed, and finally stopped. The students disembarked, and they all walked over to the horse-less carriages that would take them the rest of the way to Hogwarts. Though she was still sad, Hermione felt her spirits lifted as the large castle came into view. Despite what had happened over the summer, she knew that things would be better now that she was finally home.