On the West side of the Forbidden Forest, flanking one of the fast-flowing tributaries that fed the Great Lake, stood a cluster of trees that were quite separate from the density of the main Forest. It sat on a bend of the waterway that was out of sight of the castle, a short distance from Hagrid's Hut, but hidden from view from that also, and so was a perfectly private and solitary spot.

Harry had once counted the trees and found that there were a pleasingly neat thirty-three of them. He called them the Thirty-Three Sisters, and they provided his preferred spot in the whole of Hogwarts and her grounds. Isolated and away from the hustle of the school, Harry would spend hours sat in the circular clearing at the heart of the copse, doing his homework or simply spending time with Hedwig if she was awake, and his own thoughts if she wasn't.

So it wasn't lost on him that this was something of a watershed moment, as he brought an outsider into his most private place for the first time. Hermione Granger wasn't with him in person, of course, but her thoughts and presence were burning a hole in Harry's school satchel in the form of the letter she had written him. Deeply curious as to what she might have to say, Harry quickly took the letter out as soon as he was comfortably sat down, before resting back against the trunk of one of the Sisters and settling down to read.

The first thing he noticed was that Hermione Granger had very neat handwriting. He found that this fact didn't surprise him, which was an odd realisation, and he nodded approvingly as he glanced over the lines of tight calligraphy. There was something to be said for good handwriting in Harry's book, and he felt that this had started well as he appreciated Hermione's fine hand.

Then he found himself smiling before he'd even finished the opening paragraph.

Hello Harry.

I didn't really know how to start this letter, so I thought I'd start it by saying that I didn't know how to start it, which has actually turned out to be a really good way to start it, as now I've started it!

I hope that hasn't made me seem a bit dopey, as I promise you that I'm not, but if it has please persevere and don't hold my dottiness against me! So, where to go from here? I've decided to make this a bit like a stream of consciousness thing, as I'm not used to writing letters like this, so apologies if I make no sense and go off at wild tangents. I'm just really pleased that you agreed to this at all and I'm looking forward to getting to know you better, so I hope I don't put you off!

So, a little bit about me I suppose. My full name is Hermione Jane Granger … Jane was my grandmother's name from my father's side … and I just turned fifteen back on September the Nineteenth, which is my birthday. OBVIOUSLY, you must be screaming! My Mum chose my name from a Shakespeare play, 'The Winter's Tale', and I've always liked it. It's different and unusual and I like that it isn't easy to contract. Ronald Weasley, a boy in my House that you know about, tries to call me 'Mione' and I hate that, which makes him call it me even more. I'd like to turn him into a statue every time he does it, like what happened to Hermione in the play. If you know the spell for that, feel free to let me know. Or maybe I'll just see if I can invent it if there isn't one!

What else? Well, I'm five-foot-three and one-quarter, and the one-quarter is very important thank you very much! I have brown hair, which you know, and also brown eyes, which you probably don't, and they turn a sort of hazel shade in the sun, which I don't think anyone knows. But now you do, so that makes one person besides me. Even though my hair is quite dark, my skin is fair, so I tan quite easily and I have to be careful not to burn in the sun. My Dad's brother suffered skin cancer from severe sunburn, so I wear sun screen pretty much every day. It was drilled into me to be ultra cautious when outdoors. So if you've ever smelt coconut oil when around me in the library, now you know where it came from!

I grew up in a town called Abingdon, which is a short way from Oxford, and that's where my Mum and Dad's dental practice is. They are both dentists, you know, so I knew my molars from my incisors at a very early age! It's ironic, really, that I have such big, ugly teeth with two dentists for parents! I suppose I might have had braces if I'd stayed as a Muggle, but can you imagine the teasing I'd have here if I turned up one term with a mouth full of metal? The anti-Muggle sentiment is already pretty bad with many students, and the 'anti-me' sentiment even more prevalent. So I don't think braces would do much for my quality of life here, do you! Not that I mean that as fishing for sympathy, mind you. If there's anyone that I don't need to explain ignoring gossip to, it's you.

Life away from Hogwarts seems a good place to go next. At home, we live right on the banks of a canal and my Dad has a small narrowboat that we take trips to the city on during breaks between terms. Have you ever been to Oxford? It's a very grand and beautiful place with all the ancient colleges there. Until I received my Hogwarts letter I always hoped that I'd end up in one of them, but I doubt that will ever happen now. I understand that there is a secret pathway from Hogwarts to Muggle University though, so maybe I will, who knows?

Did you ever think about things like that, your future? How did you react when you got your Hogwarts letter? It must have been ever such a surprise for you, just like it was for me. Look at us! We're finding things in common already. Oh, that makes me happy! I bet your Muggle relatives must have been shocked too. How did they take it? Were they distressed to lose you to the Magical World? They must have been.

Oh … that may be too personal to share. You don't have to tell me about that if you'd rather not. I just know that my parents tried to keep me as a Muggle at first, but they came around eventually when I put my foot down! I can be quite stubborn when I want to be, you know! I imagine that your guardians must have been the same. It was probably difficult for them to adjust. They are your Aunt and Uncle aren't they? Or is that rumour wrong? I often wonder how much that we 'know' about you is right and how much is made up.

That's really what I should talk about next. You've probably been wondering why I said I'd like to have you as a penpal. I know I would be, in your place, and I've certainly been wondering about why I just blurted it out like that. It must have sounded so awful, like I was just another of your obsessed fans trying to get some gossip, but I really didn't mean it like that. I hope you can believe me about that.

With that said, I still owe you an explanation. I wont pretend not to be fascinated by you and your story. Please don't hold that against me, it's just such an interesting topic with all the mystery surrounding it. It stirs the natural academic in me. I wont push you for any details that you don't want to share, though, and I promise again that anything you do tell me will be kept in the strictest confidence. I have already privacy-charmed a little chest under my bed where I will keep your letters. I'm pretty confident that even Professor Dumbledore would have a hard time breaking through those enchantments! So you can rest assured of my secrecy.

But that isn't the real reason that I wanted to get to know you. I suppose it's more the fact that you don't seem to be anything like I might have expected for someone with your backstory. You don't milk the limelight, you don't trade on your fame, and that both pleases and fascinates me. I've often wondered what goes through your mind when all the groupies surround you and people whisper and gossip. You seem to handle it so well, but I imagine it's a really heavy burden to carry. It can't be an easy life at all and I understand why you prefer to keep to yourself most of the time. I'd just like to know the person behind the story, and I hope you'll give me a chance to do that, as far as you are comfortable of course.

Look at me, I've rabbited on for four sheets of parchment already! Well done for getting this far! I don't know if I've made much sense, but I hope I haven't put you off replying. Again, don't feel under any pressure to tell me anything you don't want to. Stick to broad topics if you like. I'd be interested to hear your thoughts on the Triwizard Tournament so far. Did you watch the First Task? Those dragons were pretty scary, weren't they? I think Cedric did well, but the French girl was lucky not to get her head taken off by that flailing tail when it was her go. I don't think I'd have liked to compete in the Tournament if those are the risks to be expected!

What's it like sharing a table with the Beauxbatons girls? I bet it's fascinating finding out about their school and things. I'm really quite jealous. Maybe I'll have to ask that Viktor Krum about Durmstrang. He's always in the library, isn't he? Does that annoy you as much as it does me? I bet it does. How are we supposed to study with his fanclub twittering around all the time? Honestly!

What's it like being in Ravenclaw? I sometimes wonder how much different the school experience is for the other Houses. What's your Common Room like? Ours is quite homely, I suppose you'd call it. We have a big fireplace and several couches that surround it, but they are all pretty old and rickety. That adds to the charm of the place, but it does give the room a musty sort of smell. I like our tapestries best, though. They go from floor to ceiling and are intricately woven in gold and scarlet. They are really very pretty. Do you have tapestries and hangings too? What are they like?

Well, I think I've babbled on for long enough! Wow, I really didn't intend for the first letter to be this long! Sorry about that. Please don't think that you have to write equally as much … though I'd be delighted if you do. I'll be ever so excited to hear back from you, so the more the better! I've really enjoyed writing this, so I hope you enjoy reading it and want to write back. It's fun, I promise, so I hope you give it a go.

I look forward to hearing from you. I hope you don't mind, but I'm thinking of using your owl to deliver this to you. She's ever so pretty, but I don't know her name. With a bit of luck I'll find someone who does.

Yours Sincerely

Hermione. J. Granger

Harry sat back a moment to consider what he'd just read. He felt he knew Hermione Granger ten times better already, and this only half came from the things she'd said. There was something about her style, her manner of expression, that spoke a lot about the kind of person she was.

She wasn't a confident girl, that much was clear, and Harry found himself surprised by the fact. He had always thought of Hermione as intelligent, heard her being chatty and talkative around the school, and assumed that she was self-assured. But she obviously wasn't. She hoped for a lot of things, seemed to err on the side of expecting the worst, and didn't appear to have much faith in herself. Her repeated pleas for Harry to not judge her, and the thinly-veiled expectancy that he wouldn't write back certainly suggested that.

And Harry found that this better understanding of her character bothered him. She had always seemed pleasant enough, if a little bit overbearing at times, and the idea that she carried around this sort of resignation for the worst didn't sit well with him. She seemed nice enough to not warrant such negativity in her life … and Harry wondered if he should tell her that when he replied.

For he definitely intended to reply. There was a sort of eager energy about Hermione's letter, about her style of writing, and Harry knew already that he'd be reading it again shortly. He had enjoyed the experience first time around, and had a feeling it would be just as fun on a second perusal. Then he would turn his attention to what to say back.

And therein lay his conundrum … what should he say? Hermione had asked a lot of questions, so that was a starting point. Then she gave some information about herself, which Harry could do, too. But then there were the facts about her home life, which Harry felt a sort of fond jealousy reading about. He certainly couldn't tell her about his own, it was far too dark a path to tread this early in proceedings. He hadn't even told Sirius everything yet, fearing that he might blow up the entire of Privet Drive if he knew how badly Harry had been treated by his Aunt and Uncle.

So family stuff was largely out. But what about his own personal mythology? Hermione had seemed interested in that, but Harry couldn't help but grin at the image of the look of surprise Hermione would wear when he disclosed how little he knew about all of it. As soon as she knew that he was dull and boring and not the epic hero of the textbooks, she might regret ever wanting to be his penpal at all.

And Harry found that he disliked that idea. There was a sort of cosiness in the secrecy of his new connection to the Gryffindor brain box, and even though it was in its infancy Harry was already feeling covetous of it. he certainly didn't want to do anything to lose it. He wanted Hermione to want to get to know him, and he was keen to get to know her, too. These new bits of information about her that he now knew, even though they seemed largely whimsical, had simply whetted his appetite to know more, and to tell her some things about himself.

He didn't know quite what he was going to say, was sure it wouldn't be coherent, but Harry reached into his satchel anyway for a quill, inkpot and a roll of parchment. He just hoped there would be enough.

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