It took about an hour for Hermione's breathing to gradually steady, her body slowly unclenching from the intense panic attack. Within seconds of slamming the door, the angry tears had turned into a full-on panic attack. Crookshanks jumped on the bed beside her, nudging Ron's jumper towards her. Hermione grabbed it and hugged it tight against her heaving chest as Crookshanks curled up in her lap, purring as loudly as he could.
Mary and Bert both knocked on her door to discuss what had happened, but Hermione wasn't having any of it. If she had her way, she'd pack everything up right then and there and go to the Burrow.
Suddenly, a memory sparked in her mind—the Knight Bus! Harry had taken the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley before their third year. Hermione strained to recall Harry's description of how he summoned the bus. Her third year was so insane with the Time-Turner that she couldn't exactly remember.
Just as she moved to grab some parchment for a letter to Harry, Hermione noticed Crookshanks had jumped to her desk near the window and was hissing at something in the darkness. Hermione walked over and looked. It was an owl! She felt her heart flutter as she reached out to open the window.
The owl, with its light-grey feathers, was unfamiliar, indicating it wasn't from Ron or Harry. The owl hopped into the room, completely ignoring Crookshanks's hisses. The bandy-legged cat continued to hiss but soon realised the owl couldn't care less. With one last hiss and swat, Crookshanks jumped from the desk with what little dignity he had left and hid under the bed.
The stoic owl gazed at Hermione with an expectant look. She stroked its soft feathers and offered some seeds she kept for such occasions. While the owl snacked, Hermione unfolded the letter tied to the owl's leg.
My smartest girl,
Greetings from Bulgaria! It has only been a short time, and yet I miss you terribly. I will soon be reuniting with my Quidditch teammates for training. I hope that will distract me from missing you. I am happy, though, that we can be friends.
How have you been doing? Was it nice to see your parents again? My mother was delighted to see me. She speaks of you often, and your kindness touched her. I thank you again for this.
We shared so many things this year. I want you to know I am here for you if you need help with your feelings about what happened. I can understand and offer knowledgeable advice. Losing friends is so difficult. I have lost some myself. I can listen for you. Please remember that when you get sad.
The Dark Lord's return is also a challenging thing to accept. Karkaroff has not returned. I imagine he has gone into hiding. Durmstrang still stands. I will listen to the communications there and let you know of anything that will protect you or your friends. Harry Potter must be cautious. Please let me know if I can be of any help.
I cannot wait to receive a return letter from my smartest girl. Please let me know what you are learning. I miss you terribly. Have a beautiful summer holiday!
Yours, Viktor
A sad smile crossed Hermione's face as she reread the letter, the weight of Viktor's unrequited love heavy on her heart. She felt horrible for breaking Viktor's heart, but she knew, deep down, she could never love him as he loved her. She hoped their friendship could continue without any awkwardness. She considered him one of her dearest friends and actually enjoyed the fact he was so different and removed from Ron and Harry.
But thoughts of Viktor had to wait; she needed to figure out how to get on the Knight Bus, and Harry would be the best person to ask. She poured more trail mix on the windowsill to keep the owl there and began writing her letter to Harry.
Dear Harry,
I hope you are doing okay. I miss you terribly, even though it's only been a few days. Are your Aunt and Uncle treating you alright? You know how much I worry about you.
My parents are absolutely infuriating. I cannot stand to be here much longer, which leads me to a favour: Can you remind me of how you summoned the Knight Bus? I'd really appreciate it. Maybe once I am at the Burrow, I can convince the Weasleys to come and get you, and then we can spend the summer holiday with each other.
Please write back or even call as soon as you can.
All my best, Hermione
Hermione folded the letter and grabbed an envelope from her top desk drawer. Just as she was about to give the letter to the light-grey owl, another owl flapped to a stop at the window with a purple envelope in its beak. Hermione took the envelope from its beak and poured a few more seeds for the beautiful brown owl. She started handing her letter to the light-grey owl, but the brown owl immediately dropped the seeds in its mouth and started pecking Hermione's hand.
"Ouch!" she gasped, pulling her hand and the letter back. The owl returned to eating seeds as if it had not just attacked her. Hermione handed the grey owl the letter again with the same result. "Fine!" she exclaimed, pulling back the letter and putting it aside. She rubbed her hand where the owl had pecked her, then turned her attention to the purple envelope. She was greeted with an elaborate script flourish under the words "From the Mind of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore" as a header.
Dear Miss Granger,
Thank you for accepting my owl. I do hope he wasn't too forceful, as he can be quite demanding at times.
I can only imagine the strife you've felt since night in my office. I would suppose returning home to the Muggle world would be quite a transition. I suspect you are not enjoying yourself and are missing the companionship of your fellow witches and wizards. This is why I would like to extend an offer to join myself, the Weasleys, and a few other friends for the rest of the summer holiday. There is no need for the Knight Bus - I will arrange for an associate or two to provide transportation.
I do, however, have one request of you. Please do not reach out to Harry at this time. I must ask you to trust me without an explanation at this time. If you cannot trust me, consider this an order from your headmaster. I apologise for my bluntness, but I appreciate your discretion.
Yours sincerely, APWBD
Hermione immediately shivered despite the warm weather and glanced around her room. Was Professor Dumbledore spying on her? How did he know about her parents? How did he know she wanted to leave by Knight Bus? How did he know she was writing to Harry?!
She had never grasped why so many revered Dumbledore. Sure, he was a brilliant wizard, but so was Professor McGonagall. The Headmaster seemed more captivated by his own "mystically whimsical" persona than by the duties of a professor. Quite frankly, Hermione found his attempts at whimsy grating and ineffective. His annual mumbling at the beginning of the year feast was meant to be "cute," but Hermione neither appreciated nor understood the appeal. The man certainly had some questionable methods and morals, especially regarding students' safety. Nonetheless, she had to respect his magical ability since it apparently allowed him to spy on Hermione in her Muggle home.
She weighed the pros and cons of casting a protection spell but figured she had pushed her luck enough in past years. Plus, if Dumbledore was watching her, her defence wouldn't garner any support from the Headmaster.
With a sigh, Hermione reluctantly tucked her letter to Harry inside her desk drawer and began drafting a letter to Ron instead.
Dear Ron,
I just got a letter from Professor Dumbledore inviting me to spend the rest of the summer holidays. The letter was, as you say, 'mental.' I'll have to fill you in when I see you in person. Did you get any letters from him? Do you know what is going on? Have you heard from Harry?
I am ready to leave already. My parents just don't understand anything. They even dared to insinuate that pursuing a life in the Wizarding World wasn't' practical'. I'm a witch. That's what I am. If they can't deal with that, that is their problem, you know?
Anyway, how are you doing? How have you been sleeping? I miss our chess games. They always helped me forget everything that happened.
What is going on in the Wizarding World? Anything? I can only get snippets from the Daily Prophet, so I'm not learning much. Has the Minister admitted that He Who Must Not Be Named is back?
Please write back to me soon and tell me if you know anything. I am desperate for any information.
Hermione
Hermione almost signed the letter, "Yours, Hermione," but decided against it at the last moment. Instead, she folded the letter and gave it to the light-grey owl (without any pecks from the brown one). "Take this to Ronald Weasley at the Burrow in Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, West Country, please."
The grey owl gave a soft hoot, its wings beating silently as it disappeared into the inky sky. The brown owl quickly followed, their silhouettes blending into the night. Hermione watched the magical letter carriers until they vanished from sight, feeling a pang of longing as she returned to her dreadfully unmagical room. The stark white walls and mundane furniture seemed to close in on her, a sharp reminder of how different her life here was from the one she cherished at Hogwarts.
The Granger household felt like a pressure cooker, ready to explode for the next few days. Bert and Mary tried to smooth things over, but Hermione immediately realised that they fell short of apologising. She remained polite and respectful, but a cold distance had settled in her heart. She couldn't quite articulate it, but she knew her relationship with her parents had fractured in a way that couldn't be mended.
A few days later, Hermione finally had a chance to visit Mildred, the Librarian, and catch up. She always felt a pang of guilt lying to her about school, but she had become adept at answering Mildred's questions honestly while using a few white lies to protect her magical secret. The warmth and familiarity of the library offered a brief solace, a world away from the tension at home.
Hermione meandered slowly home from the library, savouring the brief respite from her stifling house. The air felt lighter, and the simple act of walking gave her a sense of freedom she missed. Absorbed in kicking a pebble down the road, she didn't notice Finnegan and Keelin standing at her front door until she was nearly upon them.
"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise. "Hello!"
"Quite the pebble you 'ave there, eh?" Finn said with a wink.
"Hermione! It's so nice to see you again," Keelin said, ignoring her twin brother as she pulled Hermione into a warm hug.
"And you!" Hermione responded with a smile. "This is such a nice surprise."
"Dumbledore didn't tell you we were coming?" Finn asked, furrowing his brow.
"Shocking," mumbled Keelin with a cheeky grin.
It took a moment for Hermione to make the connection. "Oh!" she said. "You're the 'associates' he said would come."
"At your service! Ready to go?" Finnegan said.
Keelin saw the look of confusion flash on Hermione's face. "Did you even know you are supposed to come with us today?" Keelin asked.
Hermione shook her head. "No," she said simply.
"Leave it to Dumbledore to be forthcoming," Keelin said. "Sorry, I know you probably admire him. He's just been a bit scattered lately."
"I agree with all of your assessments," Hermione whispered with a smile, "though I have to warn you—I think he has my room bugged."
"Nah, it just seems that way," Keelin said. "He truly is brilliant, and his intuition is terrifyingly good. There's a reason he is called the best Wizard of our time. No wonder Fudge is scared Dumbledore will take his job."
"Fudge is mental," Hermione said, shaking her head. "And Dumbledore's crazy, but not crazy enough to want to be Minister of Magic."
"Precisely," agreed Finn. "But Fudge is a paranoid little man." He made a motion with his arm to indicate Fudge's short and round stature before changing the subject. "So, what are we to do about you leaving, eh?"
"I can pack pretty quickly," Hermione said, mentally cataloguing where all her school things had dispersed.
"What about your parents?" Keelin asked.
Hermione's heart sank. As annoyed as she was with them, leaving without saying goodbye crossed some sort of line. "I suppose I could call them at work?"
"How about we wait until tomorrow?" Keelin suggested gently. "We can let the Order know—"
"The Order?" Hermione asked.
"Of the Phoenix," Finnegan finished. "It's an underground group of witches and wizards who fought against He Who Must Not Be Named during the Wizarding War, and they're rallying again now that he's back."
"Who's in the Order? Where does it meet? What—"
"You'll learn much more when you get there," Keelin said, gently interrupting Hermione's stream of questions. "Back to the issue of your parents. I think we should leave tomorrow instead, giving you some time to say goodbye."
"What about later tonight?" Hermione suggested, even though she realised it wouldn't be much better.
"Dr. and Dr. Granger would be crushed if they didn't get to say goodbye," Finnegan said. "I wouldn't hear the end of it during my appointment."
"Do they know about you?" Hermione asked.
"They will soon," Finnegan said with a wink.
"So tomorrow at lunchtime, yeah?" Keelin said.
"I'll be ready!" Hermione said, her heart skipping a beat with a sudden excitement. She was going home; she just had to muster the courage to tell her parents and get through one more night in her unmagical reality.
Unsurprisingly, Bert and Mary's faces darkened with disappointment.
"You've only been home a week!"
"This is our time with you!"
"You're making it increasingly hard to be supportive when you consistently choose magic over your family."
That last comment stung like a bee, but Hermione remained resolute in her decision. She hoped her parents would eventually understand her reasoning, but she wasn't going to hold her breath any time soon.
After enduring an endless barrage of her parents' disappointment and hurt, Hermione locked herself in her room and began to pack. Crookshanks strolled out from under her bed, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the trunk, and let out a delighted meow. At least someone in this house was as excited to return to the Wizarding World as Hermione.
For the first time since she had been home, she slept soundly, comforted by the thought that time would pass faster while she was asleep. When she woke up, her parents sat at the table without their usual work clothes. A sense of dread settled in Hermione's stomach, and a panic attack popped up inside her. Were they going to stay home and prevent her from leaving?
"Good morning," Hermione said cautiously.
"Morning," Bert murmured. Mary just sighed.
"Not going to work today?"
"No," Bert answered. "We figured we'd see you off."
Hermione let out the breath she had been holding. "That's very nice of you. Thank you."
The Grangers ate in painful silence. Hermione kept looking at the clock, willing the seconds to tick by faster. At one point, she wished she had the Time-Turner back to go into the future and get everything over with.
Finally, there was a knock at the door. Hermione forced herself to walk calmly. Opening the door, she was met with Finnegan's broad grin.
"'Ello, Hermione!" he said, tipping his postman's hat.
"Can we help you?" Bert's question came from behind Hermione. "Do we have a parcel?"
"No, Dad," said Hermione, silently chastising herself for forgetting to tell them who the associates were. "This is Finnegan and his sister Keelin. They are the ones who are taking me to the Wizarding World."
"But he's our postman!" Mary said, her brows furrowing in confusion.
"He's also a wizard," Keelin added with a smile. "Nice to finally meet you, Dr. and Dr. Granger. My brother has said wonderful things about you. I never thought he'd voluntarily go to the dentist."
"Thank you, but I am still hung up on you being a wizard," Bert said.
"Guilty as charged, sir," Finnegan said with a wink.
"And you have a human job?"
"Muggle," Hermione corrected her mother.
Finnegan smiled. "I'm, as you would say, undercover."
Hermione knew this conversation could go south fast. "Shall I get my trunk?"
Keelin and Finnegan stepped out to allow the Grangers to say goodbye to each other. A wave of guilt washed over Hermione, and she hugged her parents tightly, hoping it would convey the depth of her feelings. She knew it wouldn't, but that was all she could do.
When she stepped outside, she saw the twins leaning casually against a Black Cab, her trunk already stowed in the passenger area. The morning sun cast long shadows on the pavement, and the scent of blooming flowers filled the air. "Right then," Keelin said. "Ready?"
"Where are we going?"
"London!" Finnegan exclaimed, getting behind the wheel and pulling the door shut.
Two hours later, the Black Cab was weaving around the London Borough of Islington. Islington's Victorian homes and quiet backstreets unfolded before her, their charm capturing Hermione's attention. The architecture was absolutely brilliant, and she imagined herself on Cherry Tree Lane in one of her favourite childhood movies.
"Here we are!" Finnegan said, pulling off to the side of the street.
"Where is here?" Hermione asked.
"Can't tell ya," Finn said with a mischievous grin, turning in the driver's seat.
"It's a secret," Keelin added.
"Oh, come on," Hermione said. "Just tell me."
"No, really," Keelin said. "It's a secret, and we aren't the secret keepers, so we can't tell you. We don't even know what's here."
"But she may be able to!" Finnegan said, nodding towards a young woman standing near a streetlamp in a very bright Union Jack shirt, neon shorts, and bright cherry-red hair. To most people on the street, she looked like a tourist, albeit a very odd one. To Hermione, however, it was clear that the woman was a witch trying—and failing—to blend in with the bustling London crowd.
"Oi, Tonks!" Finn called out the window.
"Oi, Finn!" the witch named Tonks shouted across the street. "And Keelin! It's been too long!"
"Love the new look," Keelin said, getting out of the car and hugging Tonks. "Red's a good colour on you."
Tonks's bright cherry-red hair transformed into a deep royal blue with a simple toss of her head.
Hermione gasped, her eyes widening as she recognised the ability instantly. "You're a Metamorphmagus!" she exclaimed.
"Ah, cheers!" Tonks smiled. "Not many get it on the first try." She held her hand out to Hermione to shake. "Nymphadora Tonks, but please call me Tonks."
"If you wanna see 'er really change her looks, call her Nymphadora," Finn laughed.
"Nice to meet you, Tonks," Hermione said. "I'm—"
"Hermione Granger," Tonks finished. "I've heard all about you! You have some fans in there," she said, motioning to the row houses behind her.
"I'm sorry?" Hermione said.
Tonks waved her hands. "Oi, sorry. Got ahead of myself. Lots to explain."
"Yeah, we should be going anyway," Keelin said, holding her hands out for a hug from Hermione, which Hermione obliged. "It was so nice to see you again, especially under much calmer circumstances."
"Absolutely," Hermione grinned.
"I'll see you next summer, yeah?" Finnegan asked, lining up for Hermione's next hug after Keelin.
"Yeah," Hermione said slowly. "I probably won't be home for Christmas."
"Figured," he said. "I'll look after your mum and dad for ya."
"Thank you," she replied, trying to keep the guilt from rising again.
After exchanging a few more hugs with Tonks, Keelin and Finnegan climbed back into the Black Cab, their laughter fading as they drove off.
"Right then," Tonks said, digging into her pockets. "Ready?"
"For what?"
"For this. Just read it to yourself."
Tonks handed Hermione a folded piece of paper. She gave Tonks a questioning look, but Tonks didn't elaborate. Hermione slowly unfolded the paper, immediately recognising the handwriting as Dumbledore's. It read:
The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.