It hadn't been a good day for Hermione Granger, and she only had herself to blame.

At least, this is what she told herself as she stomped into the Great Hall for dinner that night. She hadn't known what she had been expecting, really, but now she saw how silly her best hopes had been. For to anticipate an immediate reply from Harry Potter seemed to Hermione like the stuff of nonsense, now that she thought about it. People didn't have much time for her in person so why would it be any different via letters?

It reminded Hermione of the fraught nature of 'friendships' and 'being liked', which is why she normally left such things to other people most of the time.

But she had got it into her head that Harry Potter would like her, that her first letter - which she had enjoyed writing very much - would prompt him to pen an instant reply. Indeed, she half-expected to have a letter in her hand by the end of the morning break period, or by lunch time at least. She was that keen for Harry to talk back to her that she convinced herself that this was his sentiment too.

So her mood at being letter-less by the end of the day's classes was quite a sour one. And sour would soon become grumpy, which would give way to feeling sorry for herself, as she considered all the circumstances in what she hoped was a rational manner, but was probably done in a bitterness of spirit, through no fault of Harry's own.

At first, Hermione told herself that Harry might not have had time to read the letter yet, or maybe that he hadn't been able to finish it. She'd written quite a bit more than she'd intended, after all. But as the day wore on, this sensible idea was replaced by the scathing notion that he didn't want to read it. That maybe he'd been offended by her use of his owl, or some other equally preposterous reason, and had changed his mind about being her penpal entirely.

Which is what made Hermione's mood a grumpy one for the middle of the day. She snapped at Lavender Brown for going on about that stupid Ball that might not even be happening during Herbology, then tried to confiscate a pack of Exploding Snap cards from a couple of Second-Years because they were exploding too loudly, before topping it off by nearly getting maimed in Care of Magical Creatures, as she was too distracted to have the patience to bow properly to a hippogriff, who then proceeded to try and stomp on her head.

And the icing on the cake was that she'd only earned ten House points all day, which was a record low for her and the stupidity of the reason rankled with her sensibilities. It wasn't helped when she saw a significant jump in the increase of gems in the Ravenclaw Hourglass, accompanied by a whisper that Harry Potter had been outstanding in a Defence Against the Dark Arts class, by conjuring a fully-corporeal Patronus, which not only accounted for the leap in Ravenclaw points but made Hermione cross and jealous, as that was a spell she couldn't do yet.

Harry Potter was being all sorts of irritating to Hermione today, whether he knew it or intended it or not.

When she caught herself thinking that, Hermione felt immediately guilty and chastised herself for being so silly. This was her fault, for suddenly expecting a sea-change in how someone might view her, without any real reason for the polar shift. And Harry couldn't be blamed, either. He was quiet, reserved, if he was going to reply to her letter he'd likely make it something more considered and cogent, unlike her multi-page ramble. To expect him to reply so quickly was dumb … to expect him to reply at all wasn't much more sensible.

And so it was that Hermione slunk into dinner feeling very sorry for herself. After all her fanciful build-up, the reality was very much a let down, and Hermione rather thought that she should have expected that. She slid quietly into a seat on the Gryffindor bench and looked around the room. The other schools were dining with them this evening, and Hermione noticed the sullen face of Viktor Krum angled in her direction. She wished he wouldn't look at her, but he did tend to do that a lot.

Then Hermione found her target … the source of her profound disquiet. But Harry Potter wasn't facing in her direction. The Beauxbatons lot had taken up a vast swathe of the middle of the Ravenclaw table and Harry was pushed almost to the far edge of the bench, which Hermione found annoyed her for the rudeness of it. Who were they to push him out?

So she couldn't see his face, to gauge whether or not any letter reading had been done by him or not, which had been a greater reason for Hermione going to dinner than actually eating. Accepting that she would take no pleasure from the rest of the evening, Hermione resigned herself to picking at food she didn't want, glancing up occasionally to watch Harry talking with that blonde girl, who had told Hermione the name of Harry's owl, and wondering what they might be chatting about.

She couldn't have guessed that she would soon find out that it was all about her.

For almost as soon as Hermione got up to leave, the little blonde witch followed suit. Hermione was almost at the top of the Main Staircase when a puffed-out voice called up to her from the landing below. Hermione ignored it at first, stopping only when the voice grew louder and borderline frantic.

"Miss Hermione Granger! Wait! Please stop!"

Hermione halted at the sound of her own name and turned to see the shock of blonde hair bound up the stairs to her. The curiously expressive eyes of this young witch were flushed from vigorous exercise, and she needed a second to catch her breath as she reached Hermione's level.

"You walk very fast, did you know?" the witch panted. "I almost didn't catch you."

"Why were you trying to catch me?" Hermione asked. "What can I do for you?"

"Nothing, but it's what I can do for you. My name is Luna and I'm Harry Potter's friend. He asked me to give you this."

And with that Luna thrust her hand forward to offer Hermione a thick envelope, that was heavy with the weight of what seemed to be an entire roll of parchment at least. Her own name was emblazoned on the envelope, with a small note in the top right corner that read, "attach PB here". Hermione smiled fondly at it, her heart alive with excitement, as she realised that she hadn't sent Harry any stamps yet, so he must have had to improvise.

But she was too fevered to be bothered about that right now … for Harry Potter really had written back the same day, confirming all Hermione's wildest hopes, and he'd said quite as much as she by the looks of things.

Hermione took the envelope in slightly trembling hands. Then she looked at Luna. "Thank you. Did Harry tell you what this is all about?"

"No, but I can guess," Luna replied quietly. "We all need a friend sometimes, don't we, Miss? Even if we pretend that we don't. I hope you and Harry will be friends, he deserves one, and you do too, probably. And don't worry, I wont tell anyone."

Then Luna did something very unexpected. She gave Hermione a swift hug around the middle, before scuttling off back down the staircase. Hermione dwelt on the strangeness of that for all of thirty seconds, before rushing the rest of the way to the Gryffindor Common Room with the letter clamped tightly in her hands.

The first decision she had to make was where to read it. The Common Room was sparsely populated right now, but that wouldn't last as people starting returning from dinner. Then they'd be engaging in all their usual silliness and rowdiness and Hermione would get no peace at all. On top of that, she might draw suspicion from reading such a long letter in public, and as it wasn't encoded anyone could snoop over her shoulder and that simply wouldn't do at all.

Then Hermione thought about going straight to her bed and pulling the hangings shut for privacy, but that would likely draw attention too. Lavender and Parvati would be lewd about it, but Fay - who Hermione got on with the best - might think she was ill or upset and show genuine concern for her well-being. Hermione didn't want to snap at the closest thing she had to an ally when she was just being attentive.

So no sooner had she entered the Common Room than Hermione was turning around and leaving it again. The Astronomy Tower would have been a nice, secluded reading spot, but the First-Years used that for star-gazing on Wednesday nights. The only other option was a parapet at the top of the tower where Professor McGonagall lived. It was usually deserted and if the Professor decided to take a night-time stroll, and found Hermione lurking there alone, she'd have some awkward explaining to do.

But it was a risk she was willing to take. So, pulling her cloak tight around her chilly shoulders, Hermione set off through the interchanging patches of dark shadows and silvery moonlight and hurried towards the parapet, before her eagerness to read the letter caused her head to explode.

Hermione found the parapet empty as usual and parked herself right on the far edge of it, out of sight of the doors to McGonagall's chambers. Then she carefully unpicked the seal on the envelope and pulled out the letter. It was, indeed, a whole roll of parchment, carefully folded flat in order to be squeezed into the envelope, which Harry seemed to have made himself from another sheet of parchment. Hermione admired his skill at doing that a moment, then hungrily dove into his first words.

Hello Hermione.

First of all, let me say thanks for writing me such a long letter! I enjoyed reading it, and I'll get to that in a minute, but for a while there I thought you'd changed your mind about writing to me at all, especially after Luna - who you met at the owlery last night - told me that she'd been writing to a penpal since Sunday! I thought you'd decided that this wasn't such a good idea after all, so I was pleased when Hedwig turned up at breakfast this morning with your letter for me.

Poor Luna had been fretting all night. She thought she'd done something wrong by telling you Hedwig's name, but I didn't twig as to why you might want to know it until your letter was literally in my hand! Yes, I am that much of a dunderhead! I'm sorry, but that's just something you're going to have to get used to if you insist on getting to know me better! But at least you are forewarned.

Luna signed up for the Penpal Club, you know, and she's the only person that's admitted it to me, but I'm sure lots of other people have too. You wont be able to tell me that, of course, but I've never seen so much covert letter-reading in all my time here, so you've definitely started a trend.

I feel bad that Luna has decided to search for companionship in this way, not that I mean that to sound like a value judgement against your project, mind you. I just know that she gets bullied a lot, and I try to look out for her when it happens with members of my own House, but there's not much I can do about the rest of the school. I have thought about telling Professor Flitwick, who is my Head of House, about it, but I don't think it would help much. Luna isn't a complainer, and there will always be gossip and whispering, and they haven't stopped it for me so I cant see it being any different for anyone else. So I do what I can, even if it isn't really very much. She's a nice girl and doesn't deserve the hard time she gets.

But Luna was telling me a bit about her new penpal, and how much she's enjoyed their letter exchanges so far. The whole thing has made her bright and happy, and it's good to see that in her for a change. So in case you were ever in doubt, this is a very good thing that you've done, Hermione Granger, and you should be proud of yourself for it, you really should. You are bringing happiness to people, offsetting a bit of loneliness, even if the people who benefit from it don't know to whom they are truly indebted.

But can I confess that I like that I DO know? I like that I know that you have this kindness in you, which is something that I bet most people don't know about you. Merlin, even I didn't know it until just recently, and I probably wouldn't have guessed it about you from afar, but the surprise that you do only makes me feel worse for the ways I was so rude to you before. You'll have to forgive my ignorance about that, or is it arrogance?

Either way, I feel a bit privileged to know this secret about you, and as I suppose you have no intention of revealing your role in the Penpal Club any time soon, it might just fall to me to show you all the thanks and appreciation for everyone that you are helping, as they aren't able to. I cant guarantee that I'll be up to the job, but I'll do my best. You certainly deserve that much for being so selfless.

So you might be wondering why I signed up for the Club in the first place. I remember you saying that you were surprised to see my name down on the sign-up form, so I think I'll start the letter properly from there. The truth is, I don't really know why I did it! I've never been one to volunteer information about myself before, and that includes to people I know a bit. I think the reason is that they all want to talk about the same thing … my 'story' … and I have very little to tell them about it that they don't already know.

Before we go any further, are you okay with me using the moniker Voldemort, or do you get all squeamish like everyone else and would prefer me to stick to all this You-Know-Who nonsense? You seem too logical and clever to be as stupid as everyone else about this, but if it makes you uncomfortable tell me so now and I wont use it in the future.

And that brings me to my next point. Several times in your letter you seemed to expect me not to want to write back to you, even though I said that I would. I am nothing if not a boy of my word, and if I promise something, I see it through. So you can stop worrying that I wont reply to you in the future, unless you turn out to be cruel and malicious, which might be such an unexpected turn that I'd still want to know more about you regardless of that just to find out how you hide it so well!

So, back to why I signed up, and the other part that you might be curious about, too … about why I still agreed to it even though I knew who I'd be writing to.

I see now how that might have come across as weird for you, and I'm sorry if that's how you took it. I wasn't trying to be a creep or anything, not like that Krum bloke, who seems to have an unhealthy interest in you that you might want to be careful of. He stares at you a lot, if you haven't noticed. He seems brutish to me, but who am I to advise a virtual stranger? The duck-footed, sullen look might be your type! Still, you might want to invest in some sturdy repelling spells just in case it isn't!

But why did I sign up to penpal with you specifically? I still don't really know, that's the truth and I'm a big stickler for honesty, so sorry if you find that a bit brusque. I hadn't thought about having a penpal of any sort until I heard about the Club, and it was only when I did that I thought I wouldn't mind it. I suppose I sort of thought that I could practice communicating this way and, if the person didn't guess who I was, I wouldn't get annoyed by them asking if I remembered what Voldemort looked like, or how much the Killing Curse hurt to get hit by, and all the other ridiculous things that people expect me to know from when I was a one-year-old.

Though you did ask about it, and I actually don't mind telling you, which is kind of why I agreed to penpal with you, even though I'd know who you were. I know you and me are the top students in the year, but I act much more on instinct and try not to over-think things, whereas I get the feeling that you are more naturally clever than me. I get good marks in class because I work really hard and study a lot, but it's much more a 'feeling' sort of thing for me. Like with Potions … sometimes I ignore the text book and do what feels right, like dicing an ingredient instead of cutting it into even strips or something. The fact that it works most of the time is instinct, or luck … if you believe Prof. Snape's opinion on it!

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that, when you offered to be my penpal, I considered it for about three seconds, it felt okay and so I went with it. I don't really know why, but I've come to think that I have good instincts that are nearly always right. And my instinct about you is that you'd be the right sort of penpal for me, even though we barely know each other, and your first letter only reinforced that.

So let's get my 'legend' out of the way first. I genuinely don't know any more about it than you might have read in the textbook passages about me, sorry to be a bore. People tend not to believe me about that, no matter how hard I try and tell them. It was only last year that I learned that my parents were betrayed by one of their friends, for example. That's how little I truly know.

He sold them out to Voldemort, who turned up at our house in Godric's Hollow on Halloween and killed my Mum and Dad. Then he tried to kill me - I still don't know why - but the curse bounced back and killed him, but I don't know why that happened either, really. Dumbledore gave me a partial explanation for it, but it's full of holes and I'm sure there must be more to it.

The only thing I do remember is a flash of green light, which I sometimes dreamt about when I was little. And that's not something that I've ever told anyone. But you told me that interesting thing about your eyes changing colour, which I wouldn't mind seeing happen one day if you don't mind showing me, and so this is a secret for you about me. It's not much of one, but I tried telling you that I'm not as interesting as you might be expecting!

I didn't know what the green light was, for the longest time. I was told that my parents were killed in a car crash that I somehow managed to survive, but I could never work out where the green light came from. It was only later that I learned the truth, when I found out how they'd really died.

You probably know, but just in case you don't, the Killing Curse produces an acid green spell tail. That's what I was seeing when I had nightmares as a kid … I saw the flash of the spell that killed my Mum. She was there in the room, trying to protect me till the very end. Voldemort cut her down without a second thought.

But this is in danger of getting very gloomy! Unfortunately, I cant make it better by telling you anything about my early life. It's not a story known at all, and I'm not going to tell you about it just yet. Please try not to take that personally, but let's just say it's very different from what people might expect it to be … and not in a good way … and leave it at that for now.

But no … that will just eat away at you as it's so cryptic. Without going too deep, I'll just say that my Aunt and Uncle took me in under great duress, and never wanted me around at all. As soon as my Godfather was exonerated last Summer, I jumped at the chance to live with him, even though I'd spent much of last year thinking he was trying to kill me. That might give you just enough of an insight into how desperate I was to get away from my other relatives, such as they can be called.

But enough of that. Your home life sounds nice. I've never been to Oxford, or even on a boat, besides a pedalo once at a lake we visited on primary school trip, and the ones we used after getting off the train in our first-year, but I have always liked the water. Oxford sounds very impressive. Is it weird that I can easily imagine you as a ten-year-old planning your life to the minutiae! I saw your homework planner in the library once, and it was so much more detailed than mine that I went right back to my Common Room and totally redesigned my own to match!

So you being a planner isn't a surprise. But it must have shocked your parents to find out that you were a witch. I hope you didn't get the letter while they were performing a root canal on someone or something! That might not have been good for the poor bugger! I had a few fillings when I was younger, but I didn't mind dentist visits as I often got a sticker badge and a lolly from the hygienist for being brave … and that helped me to be brave at home.

Which is why my letter arriving was one of the best days of my life. I didn't get it at first … my Uncle wouldn't allow it and vowed to squash the magic out of me! I genuinely think he was serious about trying, too! But eventually, with Hagrid's help, I got my letter. I thought it was a mistake at first, or some big joke. I might have thought that my Aunt and Uncle had set it up for one of those prank TV shows or something, if I wasn't already convinced that they lacked the imagination for anything like that!

So, yeah, I got my letter and literally ticked off the days till I went to Hogwarts. But it wasn't quite as liberating as I'd hoped, because everyone knew this big story about me and I knew none of it. I wasn't expecting gossip and rumours from Day One, and I've never liked being on display. When I went to primary school I usually had to wear horrible cast offs of my cousin's - and he is about four times fatter than me. I learned to keep my head down so that I couldn't hear all the name-calling. It wasn't as bad as that when I got here, but I have just been conditioned to not like attention, so I prefer to keep to myself and avoid crowds.

I'm sorry, Hermione, I must sound like such a hard luck case! I don't mean to unload on you like this, and this is what I was afraid of happening. You probably want to hear juicy details about what being a hero is like, but all I know about is being a nobody away from Hogwarts. You don't need to hear my whingeing about that though, so that's the last I'll say about any of it.

Just looking through your letter again and I have to admit to laughing about your special 'one-quarter'! I wonder if you find it so important because it's at the top where your brain is, or whether you've secretly got an extra knee on each leg or something! I've got very knobbly knees myself, so if you do have an additional one I'll be happy to trade, or maybe I'll swap you for some quill nibs as you never seem to have any spares of your own!

I don't actually know how tall I am. I've never properly measured it to be honest. But I'm a good head taller than you, so I'm sure I could guess at it. I have very green eyes, though, that I've been told are just like my mother's. I'm not sure if I find that creepy or not, you know. Like there could be times when someone is looking at me and seeing her or things like that. That might be weird. My hair I get from my Dad, apparently. As you might have guessed, I am NOT happy about that! He could have used a comb or something, just once … but noooo!

What's this you say about your teeth? I've never noticed that they are unusually big or anything. Far be it from me to advise you about any body issues, but if you aren't happy with them couldn't you just use magic to alter them? Like I said, I've never noticed that they are overly large, but you know you better than me, so I'll have to assume you are right about this. Your face always seems in proportion to me, if you're interested to know. But if you think your teeth are big, you might see that as an insult, which I don't mean, so please don't take it like that!

The Triwizard Tournament has been great so far! The dragon task was really exciting, but I was surprised that Krum didn't think of using his broom to try and get the egg, considering he's an international Seeker. I think that's what I would have done, if it was me.

Do you like flying? I don't think I've ever seen you on a broom. I love it, it's one of my favourite things to do. The feeling of wind rushing past my face, the freedom of flight, it's just so liberating. If you like flying, maybe we can have a race one day. You can even use my broom, which is better than the school ones, and I'll see if I can catch you!

Don't ask me about the French girls. They get on my flippin' nerves! They wear so much perfume that I feel like I'm choking half the time. And Lisa Turpin, a girl in my House, had a row with one the other day about the right use of nouns. She was asking for an egg custard and tried to do it in French, but she said 'le creme d'oueff' and one of the Beauxbatons lot snickered at her and said it was 'la creme d'oueff' and not 'le creme d'oueff' because it was feminine. Fair play to Lisa, she was having none of it. Told the girl that it was an egg custard, and that she wanted to eat it, not date it, so what did she care what gender it was. We all had a good laugh about that!

Being in Ravenclaw is pretty good for me. I think you Griffins would think us a stuffy lot because we study all the time, but it allows me to get peace and quiet more often than not, which I like. Hell, we even have to answer riddles or test questions just to get into our Common Room! I bet you have to arm wrestle a Grindylow or something to prove your doughty bravery to get into yours, don't you!? How does that Neville Longbottom ever even reach his dorm with that? He seems a very nervous type to me. The Hinkypunks must eat him for breakfast!

Our Common Room is massive, easily the biggest room I've been in besides the Great Hall. It's all done out in gold and blue and we have a great carpet in the middle that has stars on it that you absolutely cannot stand on. Nobody remembers why, but the suspicion is that it causes a supernova somewhere in the galaxy if you do … and nobody wants to be the stupid Claw who sends our own Sun into meltdown and fries Planet Earth! So we are all very careful when crossing the room!

Right, I have almost no parchment left so I'm going to leave it there. I hope I haven't scared you off by telling you some of my woes. That wasn't my intention at all. I really enjoyed reading your letter - I've gone over it three times already - and I'd really like to read another one, if you're still happy to keep this going. You were right, this was fun and I'm more certain than ever that having you as a penpal will be a good thing for me.

So, I hope to hear from you soon.

Yours Sincerely,

Harry. J. Potter (oh look, we have the same middle initial - the J stands for James, which was my Dad's name - and first one, too, come to think of it! Look us us! Finding MORE things in common already!)

PS. I liked that you used Hedwig to send me your letter. She's a barometer of good people that I've come to rely on. So it's a good sign that she agreed to this.

PPS. I have a challenge for you. How about we don't use your Penny Black scheme, but instead find elaborate ways to get our letters to each other? It'll be a test of your inventiveness, to see if you really would have made a good Ravenclaw after all! I'm sort of convinced that being Gryffindor's Brainiest Witch might not be all it's cracked up to be! Let me know what you think.

Bye.

Hermione put down the letter and found that her hands were trembling for some reason, and she couldn't work out why. This is not what she had been expecting at all and her heart was drumming in her neck as she considered everything. That Harry Potter had endured a wretched beginning to life was well known, but to find out that this had lasted until he reached Hogwarts was something that caught Hermione totally off-guard. Her heart bled for him as she read over again the things he had only hinted about having to endure at home.

"He wasn't wanted?" Hermione muttered in distress. "How can that be? But no wonder he doesn't want friends … he probably doesn't even know what one looks like if this is true! Poor Harry!"

And then she went back to the very beginning of the letter and started again. She found herself choked up at Harry's commendation of her for starting the Penpal Club and the good it was doing. 'You should be proud of yourself', she read over and over again. The smile that etched onto her face almost hurt. That was unexpected, too. She hadn't imagined Harry to be this open, or this generous with his praise, this early in their new connection.

He really wasn't all the horrible things that people said about him, after all! They just didn't know him a single bit.

And something cosy hatched in Hermione's chest as she thought about that, as she realised that she already now knew him better than most people could boast. And she knew immediately what Harry had meant about liking having a secret like that to himself. Hermione knew she would be happy being the only person in the world who knew just how deep Harry Potter really went. No-one else need know at all. Well, that Luna girl seemed to know, but she was like a little sister to Harry and Hermione could easily live with that.

But she had to know more, she had to make Harry feel comfortable enough to tell her all the things that he seemed determined to keep to himself. That would require delicacy, or maybe she should just break into his heart and make him see that his secrets were safe with her … that he was safe with her. Fay was right … Harry did have a lot to say, but Hermione was resolved that she would be the only one he told it all to. It would certainly take some thinking on how she'd manage it, but Hermione had to make him see that it was okay to feel, even if that wasn't always easy or pleasant.

Though Harry did seem to feel a lot already, and one of these things was feeling comfortable with Hermione on mere instinct, which did weird things to Hermione's breathing and pulse as the knowledge settled on her. She'd never had that impact on someone so far as she knew, and she wasn't sure what to do with the realisation now that she had it. People shunned and distanced themselves from her, never saw her as a source of comfort or confidence.

But Harry Potter had pretty much just told her that he did … and it was easily the best thing that anyone had ever said to Hermione Granger.

So she slowly made her way back to the Gryffindor Common Room, smiling gently to herself and warmed somehow against the brisk night air. She felt impervious to the world right now … Ron could call her 'Mione all he liked, Lavender and Parvati could tease her till the cows came home … she could even arm wrestle those pesky Grindylows if she had to! Nothing would faze her tonight.

For she had a shield against them all now, a shield of ink parchment, empowered with the validation of one Harry Potter, which was a defence that none of them would be able to penetrate.

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