Chapter: 7
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A/N: I don t mean to give away anything about where this story is going, but many readers seem to have certain preconceptions toward this fic, and I really feel a little fair warning is in order. For those who are frustrated that it s slow-paced best bail now. While there is action later in the story, that is not truly the central point of this story. I set out to write the most honest Harry/Hermione relationship I could. That gets the overwhelming focus.
As she looked around the Great Hall, it occurred to Hermione with a kind of bitter disgust that end of term had a strange effect on students. It was a time of merry anticipation, relief that the term was done, that summer holidays were about to begin, that freedom from homework and exams was a hair s breadth away. It had a strange confundus effect on the students at Hogwarts. The Great Hall was an almost perversely normal cacophony of children s voices as they tucked in to their last dinner feast. Earlier that evening they d bid farewell to the Beauxbatons and Durmstrangs, and it was as though with them departed the dark reality of late. The students at Hogwarts were letting themselves pretend nothing was wrong. They knew one of their own had died, that a great danger had returned to their lives, that nothing would be the same, but on the last evening they would be at Hogwarts students seem to be able to forget. It was consciously pushing the ugly from their minds as they talked with their friends. Everyone would go home tomorrow morning; there was no time to remember the unpleasant truths. They ignored it, even when it was sitting right in front of them.
It meant they made it a point to ignore Harry. He was a reminder, a signpost of the dangers that awaited them all, so they didn t look. Harry might as well have been under his invisibility cloak.
He was fine with that. He quietly ate his dinner as he sat sandwiched between Hermione and Ron. Ron was talking to Fred, George, and Ginny, who had taken seats near them at the same table to talk about their impending vacation to Romania. Even they were turning their backs on Voldemort. They were even falling into the same habit as everyone else of ignoring Harry. There had been a few awkward, stilted attempts, but they were so fake that Hermione fumed silently. Ginny had tried twice to convince Harry to change his mind about coming along with the Weasleys, and the twins had stated that Ron would be an insufferable prat all summer without Harry there to keep him in line, but after that they kind of just stopped seeing Harry. They were there with him but their gazes were deliberately fixed on each other, on Hermione beyond somehow their eyes kept skipping over Harry.
Hermione sat close to Harry s left side. Possessively, protectively close. Where everyone else forgot to remember Harry, Hermione couldn t seem to help noticing every minute detail. She felt almost an obligation to fill the void so many ignoble so-called friends had left at his last feast of term.
Laughter and high-spirited voices swirled around their pocket of solemn silence.
Hermione held it against every last one of them for being duped. For being na ve, because this was serious, people were going to die, and they were all faking joviality. She wanted to scream at them, for them, make them understand and stop acting like it was just another year gone by. But it was everyone; only she and Harry seemed cognizant of the universe outside of the Great Hall.
Harry glanced at her occasionally over his plate of barely-touched food. Every time he did the look in his eyes made Hermione want to drag him away. Take him somewhere where the tense lines of his face would ease and his shoulders wouldn t slump.
Each time it made Hermione look up toward the windows forlornly. Until she got word from her parents, she couldn t take him anywhere. They d have to go to Hogsmeade Station tomorrow to head home; Hermione didn t want to think that she might have to let Harry go to the Dursleys.
As though Hermione s longing and yearning had summoned her, Hedwig suddenly soared through an open window and into the Great Hall.
Hermione sat up abruptly and eagerly, her eyes locked on the snowy owl. Harry followed her gaze and watched Hedwig come to a hurried landing in front of Hermione s plate. He looked a little baffled when Hedwig did not bring the letter to him.
Hermione could have picked up the bird and hugged her. Had Hedwig not looked so thoroughly exhausted, she may have anyway. As it was, Hermione dove to take the muggle envelope from Hedwig s beak. Thank you, Hedwig! I was starting to worry, I should have known you d come through. Here, Hermione pushed the entirety of her remaining dinner toward the owl, and Hedwig began to gratefully gulp down slabs of roast beef and clumps of gravy-laden potatoes.
Hermione opened the letter and quickly read the contents.
Joy shot through her as she beamed and jumped to her feet without realizing she d moved.
What is it? Harry asked.
Hermione looked at him and she wanted to whoop. Instead she grabbed Harry s arm and dragged him toward the hall.
Hey, what s going on? Wait for me! Ron s voice was a background twitter. Hermione didn t spare him a thought.
When she was out in the hall she dropped Harry s arm and spun to face him with a huge grin. He was watching her uncertainly. Ron staggered up at Harry s side, a mouthful of food still pouched in his right cheek.
Hermione looked down at the letter again, as though to make sure she hadn t imagined it in her ardent hope.
Oo s at fum? Ron asked around his mouthful.
My Mum and Dad, Hermione replied then looked directly at Harry. He was growing wary in defense against the unknown.
Harry, Hermione breathed, when you decided to go back to the Dursleys this summer I borrowed Hedwig and sent a letter to my parents. I asked if you could come home with me for the summer, and they said yes!
Harry s expression went from confused to startled.
Ron swallowed, thumped Harry on the back, and barked, Oiy! That s great! Right, Harry?
Harry s brow furrowed slightly. You sure? he asked Hermione, his voice low and halting.
Hermione nodded vigorously. I already cleared it with Dumbledore. When Harry continued to look uncertain, Hermione s smile fell. You will come, won t you? It hadn t occurred to her before then that he might decline.
Harry took in a slow breath and held it.
Course he will, Ron said. I mean, sure, won t be as much fun as the Burrow, I m sure it ll be lots of books and you ll probably be made to do homework, but still, that s an improvement over the Dursleys, isn t it?
Hermione was surprised when Ron s comment hurt. No, there wouldn t be wizard s chess or Quidditch or degnoming gardens at her house, but she d never thought of it the way Ron did. Like it was a shoddy second to the Weasley home.
She looked hesitantly at Harry. What if he thought that, too? He was watching her closely, guardedly. Hermione felt her spirits take a nose-dive. She d been so certain that once she convinced the headmaster and her parents that the battle would end there. She didn t think she might have to win Harry to the idea, too. The thought that she might have to tasted a lot like despair.
Then, almost imperceptibly, Harry s expression softened. His mouth hinted at a smile, his eyes grew warm, his posture eased. Hermione held her breath.
I d really like that, Harry answered softly.
Hermione squealed. Without thought, she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Harry, surprised, chuckled and hugged her back. Hermione was finding herself one of the despicable pretenders, because Voldemort wasn t on her mind right then.
It seemed a protracted minute before Hermione let Harry go and stepped back. He was smiling at her. He looked leagues better than just ten minutes ago when he d been doomed to the Dursleys. A strange light glimmered in his eyes, and it was obviously relief and appreciation but also something else, a mysterious addition Hermione honestly couldn t place.
Ron was looking queerly between Harry and Hermione.
Hermione clutched the letter like someone would snatch it, and its promise, from her hands. Now she couldn t wait for morning.
Children with trolleys and waving parents packed the platform at King s Cross Train Station. So well timed and carefully observed were the emergences of kids with suitcases from the stone wall between platforms nine and ten that often it seemed children just appeared out of nowhere. Suddenly there would be four or five more kids pushing their belongings around than had been there moments before, but no one thought a great deal of it. It was easy to not notice where children came from, nor to where they disappeared. They were to be tolerated, chided when they got in the way, but otherwise left to their parents. Most had no time or business to bother with the young.
Miranda Granger was scanning the faces that seemed to simply appear around platforms nine and ten. Her husband at her side kept watch, too, for their returning daughter.
Oh, Jake, there she is, Miranda said with a touch on her husband s arm. Jake turned and immediately found his daughter in the crowd. It was hard to miss that mess of hair. This time, however, another blinding beacon was the huge grin on her face as the girl made her way through the throng of passengers toward her parents. She seemed to detach from a gathering of redheads as she waded through the crowd. Jake couldn t help but smile at the sight of his daughter. He hadn t seen her look that happy in a long time.
As she neared, her trolley weighed down with her trunk and the cat-carrier, Jake let his attention move to the boy following after Hermione.
So that would be Harry. Jake knew only a little of him; Hermione really spoke with her mother more about the friends she had at school than to him. Jake knew that Harry was one of Hermione s best friends, and that he was some manner of celebrity in the world of magic, but more than that he really knew nothing.
As the two kids drew nearer, Jake gave the boy an appraising look (that is, once his attention could be pried from the caged, eye-catching snow-white owl atop the boy s trunk). He looked normal enough. Maybe a little skinnier than Jake would expect from a child celebrity. Definitely with wilder hair than he thought a public persona would have tolerated. He didn t really radiate that flaunting air of entitlement Jake had honestly expected, either. If this kid was a star, he d have thought the boy would have quite a big head about it. He d envisioned a strut at the very least. But the kid was following Hermione quietly, demurely, almost reticently. Shy seemed more the right word than arrogant.
Jake wished he d paid more attention when Hermione talked about her friends, to have a better idea what strings would follow this boy to their house.
Hermione stopped before her parents, rounded her trolley, and rushed to Miranda and gave her a hug.
Hi, sweetheart! Miranda returned Hermione s embrace.
Hermione disentangled to engulf Jake similarly. For the time being, Jake let drop his curiosity about this Harry Potter fellow. He hadn t seen his girl in months.
Gracious, Hermione! Jake stepped back and put his hands on his daughter s shoulders, holding her at arm s length. He goggled. Miranda, he glanced at his wife. What on earth happened to the girl we sent to school at start of term?
Hermione s brow crinkled adorably as she silently questioned his words.
Miranda smirked teasingly. I don t know, dear. Maybe we should speak with the station master and find out who this woman is they brought back to us.
Hermione blushed and playfully slapped her father s hands away. Oh, really, you two. Hermione tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous gesture from her earliest days. She cleared her throat and turned to the boy who d accompanied her. Harry, these are my parents, Miranda and Jake Granger. Mum, Dad, Harry Potter.
Jake turned his eyes again to Harry. In the guise of formal introduction, he took a moment to more closely study the boy.
He was thin, but Jake thought a great deal of that might be the effect from his clothes. They were tatty and much too large for the boy s frame. What struck Jake, though, were his eyes. When Harry looked up at Jake they met each other s eyes, and it wasn t the gaze of a child. There was sadness there, sober reserve, steady intensity that didn t have anything to do with glee to be off for summer holidays. For a second, Jake thought he was facing someone far older than fourteen.
Hello, Harry said.
Miranda was on the ball while Jake was watching. Hello, Harry. It s wonderful to finally meet you. Hermione talks about you all the time.
Mum.
Oh, please, Hermione, you do. Miranda smiled kindly at Harry. So I understand you ll be staying with us this summer?
Harry paused for a split second, his gaze shot pointedly to Jake, then the flash point passed and he nodded at Miranda. Yes, ma am. I mean, if that s all right.
Of course it is. Frankly, we were only too happy to have you over. We ve never seen our Hermione so excited about having a friend come to the house before; how could we say no? Miranda ran an errant hand over Hermione s bushy hair, so casual and maternal a gesture, and something in Harry s face twinged. Now, I expect we ll just need to sort the details out with your aunt and uncle, is it?
Jake watched a dramatic shift take place. Hermione s expression suddenly became worried and grave. She looked quickly and intently at Harry. The boy looked back at Hermione, his face tense. Jake frowned.
Why don t you let me speak to them, Jake volunteered. Harry s eyes turned up slowly to Jake and the boy seemed to measure Jake. It was disconcerting. He d never been measured like that by a child. By other adults, but not a boy.
Sounds good, Miranda said. Come along, Hermione, we ll take your and Harry s things to the car while the boys tend to the arrangements with Harry s family.
Hermione balked a moment. She clearly didn t want to part from Harry, didn t want to leave him alone to this task. Jake couldn t understand why, but he was fairly sure he didn t like what it suggested.
The girls left, both pushing the trolleys, and Harry stood looking up at Jake. Again he was taken aback by the distance in his stare. And I always thought Hermione was serious, Jake thought.
Well then, where are your aunt and uncle?
Harry sighed and looked around the train station. He stopped, scowled, and gave a half-nod. That s them.
Jake turned and saw the large, mustachioed man standing beside a thin, severe looking woman. They were perhaps the grumpiest faces amid the several happy reunions. The two were watching Harry with a seething, spiteful glower that gave Jake pause. Things went from tense to tenser.
Right then, come on.
Harry led Jake toward the couple without making a sound. His shoulders were tight, rigid and uncomfortable to look at, right to the moment he stopped before the scowling pair and said, Hullo.
The man narrowed his eyes at Harry. Well, boy, what have you done with your things? I don t want to be all day waiting on you.
Jake stepped in automatically. Hello, I m Jake Granger. You must be Harry s aunt and uncle.
The fat man sniffed, eyed Jake s extended hand suspiciously, then shook it. Vernon Dursley. He ticked his head toward his wife. Petunia.
Jake smiled. Pleasure.
Vernon stared blankly at Jake. Was there something you wanted, mister?
Jake had to exert effort to keep smiling. Oh, well, seems our children here conspired against us. To keep the mood light, Jake laid his hand on Harry s shoulder. Harry stiffened. Jake, a little thrown, immediately removed his hand. You see, my daughter is a friend of Harry s from school.
Vernon and Petunia drew back.
And a few days ago we got a letter from Hermione, that s our daughter, asking if Harry here could stay the summer with us. Naturally, we d be delighted to have him over. If that s all right with you, of course.
Vernon did not answer for a long while. He looked between Jake and Harry with a loathsome sneer.
It was Petunia who finally broke the silence. Oh, let him go, Vernon. Will spare us having to put up with him.
Vernon grunted. Fine, take him. He snorted then looked snidely at Jake. Guess if your daughter s one of them too you won t mind this freak underfoot.
Jake s smile dropped completely.
Harry was so tense it was a wonder he wasn t shaking.
Oh! Petunia gasped.
All eyes followed hers to the baggy legs of Harry s pants. A Chihuahua was pawing demandingly at Harry s leg. When all attention was on it, the dog stopped and stared up at Harry.
Good bye, Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and with that Harry turned and stalked off. The dog bounded after him, keeping close to his side.
Good day, Jake said without a trace of a smile. He turned and moved after Harry.
Jake caught up with Harry outside the train station. He was standing to the side of the entrance, leaning against the fa ade with his hands in his pockets and the Chihuahua lying at his feet.
Jake approached the boy. Harry?
Harry looked sideways at him. He frowned, scuffed the pavement with the toe of his worn and ratty trainer, then said, I m sorry about them.
Your aunt and uncle?
Harry nodded.
Jake couldn t pretend he didn t know why Harry was apologizing.
Well, we can t choose our relatives, can we? Jake tried to brush off the encounter lightly.
No. After a moment Harry pushed off the wall and turned to squarely face Jake. Again, that flare of something far beyond a boy in his bespectacled blue eyes.
Mister Granger he stopped, considered, then continued. Did Hermione tell you I m dangerous?
Jake blinked.
Harry was unfazed. He watched Jake intently.
Jake lowered his voice. What do you mean by dangerous ?
Harry s stony stance faltered as a grief, a pain very childlike, rocked his frame. He briefly looked away then back. I mean there are very dangerous people who want me dead. I can t come back to your home with you until you understand that. If you don t want me there, I understand.
Jake couldn t believe what he was hearing. The kid was serious, unwavering, and Jake was shocked by that. Why on earth would anyone want to kill a child, this boy?
Well Jake hesitated. I appreciate your candor, Harry. Jake turned his eyes from Harry, looked out over the parking lot, and caught sight of Hermione and Miranda wrestling the trunks and pet-carriers into the back of the car. He watched his daughter and remembered her letter, her impassioned words. He d never felt that kind of fire in his daughter outside of schoolwork. It was a kind of zest and zeal for the world outside of academia he d always longed to see Hermione experience. It was impossible to snuff.
Jake looked back at Harry. The boy was waiting, not even nervously, almost in resignation. As though he was certain he d be sent away, like it was the only reasonable thing to be done. And Jake wondered, if he expected to be turned away, where did he expect to go? He d already bid his aunt and uncle good bye. He didn t look like he was the type to go crawling back for a place to stay after the way he d stormed off. And he didn t look concerned about it, either.
And even though this was a boy, merely fourteen and couldn t possibly have enemies like he said he did, Jake found he believed him enough about this danger to take him seriously.
Harry I ll be honest with you; that you say it s dangerous to have you around does concern me. Jake glanced back toward the car. He saw Hermione turn and look directly at them. Her eyes settled on Harry. Expectant didn t even begin to encompass everything that translated in his little girl s face. But you re the first friend Hermione s ever asked to bring over to the house. I don t know if she ever told you, but before Hogwarts she didn t really have friends. I know she s really excited about you staying with us this summer. I won t take that from her.
Harry lowered his gaze.
And she said that the headmaster of your school approved you staying with us. Surely the threat could not be so prominent if the headmaster of a great witchcraft and wizardry school would permit these accommodations.
Yeah, he did. With a little extra protection. Harry looked down at the pint-sized dog. Jake, perplexed, looked at the green-eyed Chihuahua in confusion. When the dog met his gaze and winked understanding flared.
Oh, I see. A special dog .
Harry smirked. Something like that.
Well then, even better, right?
Harry sighed. I just I couldn t I had to make sure you knew.
Jake honestly, sincerely did not know what to make of Harry. When Hermione had spoken of him, her friend from Hogwarts, he d expected a kid not unlike Hermione. Probably not as smart, of course, but more or less a kid. Jake had expected a boy like any other (save the magic). This was not what he d expected. There was something about Harry that Jake couldn t name. But it was there, and it made him different.
As he stood there trying to comprehend this boy, Jake s internal idea of Hermione s world shifted fundamentally. He shied from the vertigo. The parking lot was not the place to pick that fallacy apart.
Come on, Harry. Let s go.
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Chapter: 8
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A/N: I dare not let another chapter go by without giving certain people the credit justly due them. Many thanks to my beta, Sil, a Ron/Hermione fan who's put up with all my Harmony to proof this story. And as always, to Sierra Phoenix, my co-webmistress, without whom no one would get to read my fanfic.
*****
Harry hadn t expected to feel so out of place with the Grangers. They d been pleasant when he finally met them at the train station, but still there was an awkwardness. He didn t know how to act around them. It wasn t nearly as strange with the Weasleys but then, they knew who he was. Harry never had any doubts that Ron and his family fully understood the dangers associated with being in Harry Potter s company. They knew the risks, they realized the threat. Harry looked at Hermione s parents and was certain they didn t. How much could a muggle know?
Harry sat in the back seat of the comfortable four-door car as they skirted London proper. Jake was driving and giving an occasional laugh and witty comment while his wife regaled Hermione with stories from home while their daughter was away. Hermione laughed in all the right places and it would have seemed so normal, but every so often Hermione looked at him and there was the shadow in her eyes. The shade of understanding. She was laughing through the veil of Cedric s death, of Voldemort s return, of Harry s torture at the dark wizard s hands, burdened with this responsibility she had single-handedly taken on when it came to her best friend. Harry was sure that every other year Hermione had been bursting with stories from her school year. He was certain that this too-casual avoidance of the topic was abnormal. Harry felt it was his fault.
He d tried to warn Hermione s father. He couldn t go into their home, endanger Hermione, without their knowledge. Because they were muggles and surely they simply couldn t know.
And there, with Jake Granger, Harry felt an inexplicable uneasiness. Why did Jake intimidate him? He d been just as pleasant as Miranda, the only hint of discourtesy was when he spoke to Vernon and Petunia, and that didn t cause one to lose favor in Harry s estimations. It made no sense that Harry would feel jumpy around Hermione s dad. But he did. Jake looked at him and something in Harry tightened.
Harry put it down to a very trying, difficult year wracking his nerves.
Harry turned his eyes down to the floorboard where Kimmy was curled next to his feet. She returned his gaze a moment then rested her chin atop his shoe. Jake and Miranda s voices were a background mumble, voices of unsuspecting, content, normal people. Harry felt like the worst kind of intruder. He didn t belong here, he had no place.
He blinked and looked up when, during the lull while her parents conversed, Hermione slipped her hand into Harry s. He glanced at her face, met her eyes, and when she smiled some of the raging disquiet and discomfort slipped away. Something in him wanted to draw her closer, pull her tight against him as they d sat in the common room that night. He believed that somehow the amount of contact would displace a proportional amount of his unease. If she d hug him it might be okay.
Here we are, kids, Jake s voice broke into Harry s thoughts and he pulled his eyes from Hermione s face to look out the window.
They had pulled into the drive of a cozy suburban home. It was larger than the Durlseys house on Privet drive, with a bigger yard and more space between neighbors. It looked far more inviting than the little abode of his aunt and uncle had ever looked, and for that very reason it scared him.
Hermione took her hand from Harry s and opened her door.
The knot of discomfort in Harry s chest swelled again. In his second s pause he was the last to leave the car.
Kimmy bounded out of the car and trotted off. One would think it was the errant meanderings of a dog looking for a place to squat, but Harry noted that Kimmy was very exactly walking the perimeter of the yard, turning at a ninety degree angle at the corner of the property, and disappearing behind the house.
Harry, Jake s voice called. It was just Harry s name, with only a very slight tone of command, but it made Harry turn at once. The Grangers were pulling trunks and pet carriers from the back seat. Jake, at that moment, was holding Hedwig s cage up and gestured between it and Harry.
Harry moved to the family s side and took the cage of his owl. Hedwig blinked through the bars at him and Harry inhaled on the cusp of a question. But he wasn t sure if he had right to ask. He stared down piteously at his imprisoned beloved bird and burned to ask.
That s a beautiful owl, Miranda said.
Her name s Hedwig, said Hermione.
Harry looked cautiously up at Miranda. Missus Granger do you think, I mean, would it be all right to let her out of her cage? Just now and then?
Miranda shrugged. Oh, well, I don t see the harm. I mean, I suppose like Crookshanks she s, um Miranda smiled as though in a joke while trying to be delicate, well, more mindful not to make a mess than regular animals?
Harry nodded. She s well-behaved. I d just like it if she didn t have to spend all summer caged.
Well, I don t have a problem with that. Do you, Jake?
Harry looked imploringly to Jake.
Jake scratched his ear and gave a shrug. Fine by me.
Harry sighed in relief and looked down to Hedwig. He lowered his voice to a gentle near-whisper. Hear that, Hedwig? You ll get to fly this summer.
Hedwig clicked her beak and puffed out her feathers.
Well, come on, let s get all this luggage inside and I ll start lunch, Miranda said as she began to drag Hermione s trunk. Harry moved to grab his but Jake got to it first. That left Harry to tend to Hedwig and Hermione toting Crookshanks s carrying case. Kimmy showed up just as they reached the door and waited patiently to be let in with the rest of them.
The d cor inside surprised Harry in the sense that it didn t remind him of the Dursleys. He was certain that one muggle home would favor another, but where there was a cold, impersonal, unnaturally perfect cleanliness to Petunia s house, there was comfort in the Grangers . It wasn t messy, but it looked lived-in. It looked like a home where people put up their feet and tossed of their jackets just inside the front door.
Hermione set the pet carrier on the floor and opened the door. Crookshanks hurried out as though every second inside was a greater insult. He flicked his tail to reestablish his feline aplomb then wandered off haughtily.
Harry paused, looked once in question in the direction of Jake and Miranda, and warily unlocked Hedwig s cage. When neither Jake nor Miranda scolded him he reached inside. Hedwig stepped on to his forearm, protected by the material of Harry s jacket, and let Harry gently pull her free of her cage. Harry transferred the bird to his shoulder and Hedwig flapped her wings once and settled comfortably on her master s shoulder. It seemed just the fact she was not surrounded by bars was an immense improvement.
Jake disappeared down the hall dragging Hermione s trunk.
Miranda glanced at Harry with the owl perched on his shoulder and chuckled. You know, we re used to letters from Hogwarts that Hermione sends us during term coming with those smaller brown owls. We were a bit startled by Hedwig when she showed up at our window one night while we were watching the telly.
The elegant white bird was definitely a cut above the screech and barn owls generally available to students.
Jake returned empty-handed and pronounced, I ll get us all some drinks. Harry, what would you like?
Oh, um Harry faltered.
Hermione piped in. We have lemonade; Dad loves it.
That ll be good, lemonade, Harry said.
I ll be along directly to start lunch, Jake. Hermione, why don t you show Harry where he ll be staying?
Hermione nodded. Harry, mindful of Hedwig on his shoulder, bent down and grabbed the handle of his trunk and followed Hermione into the hall. She gave a truncated tour on their way. The first door on the left is to Dad s study. There on the right is the loo. That one s my room, on the left there, on the right is my parents bedroom, and this, Hermione turned to the last door on the left, this is the guest room. You ll be staying here. Hermione pushed her way in and Harry followed.
The room was nearly twice as big as his bedroom at four Privet Drive. It had the neutral look of a guest room, neither indicative of gender nor family relationship, but it was still so disturbingly warm and welcoming that Harry was given pause. Hermione sat down on the end of the queen-sized bed and watched Harry. Away from her parents her fa ade dropped, her smile was more in the back of her eyes than on her mouth, the air about her was more serious than the care-free and happy front she d been showing her parents. Harry finally saw his Hermione from Hogwarts again.
Harry stepped further into the room and dropped his trunk on the floor. A dresser sat perpendicular to a curtained window and Harry set Hedwig s cage on the corner. He pulled the curtains of the window and pinned them open. Outside was a garden, not immaculate and precise like Petunia s but lovingly tended and, for that, better. A modest-sized in-ground pool, ringed by deck furniture, was situated to the right of the garden. A privacy fence cordoned off the Grangers property, and while it was nothing extravagant the size of the back yard would have made Uncle Vernon purple with jealousy.
Harry opened the window and reached up for Hedwig, transferring her to the windowsill. The bird trilled contently at the breeze in her face, and Harry knew she was looking forward to night when she could hunt. For now, the owl was happy to sit and doze in the sunlight.
Harry finally turned to Hermione. She sat back, her arms bracing her on the mattress as she looked closely at him, and something in it made Harry swallow and his insides squirm.
You all right, Harry? she asked gently, a crinkle of concern on her brow and pulling at the corners of her mouth.
Harry couldn t lie, not to her, not anymore. Dunno.
Hermione sat up, now even more serious, and waited in worry.
Harry looked around the room. This was Hermione s home, his best friend as much and more so than Ron, so why wasn t he as relaxed here as he was at the Burrow? What made him feel like a disease in their house? He felt like the adopted brother with Ron and his family. Now he felt like the stranger, the burglar that forgot to sneak out after the burgle and decided to stay for dinner.
Hermione stood and it jarred Harry from his thoughts as he looked up at her. She cocked her head in silent question.
Harry leaned back to perch carefully on the dresser. It felt intrusive to even touch anything. He looked down at his hands and tried to think of words for what he felt. Maybe well, at Ron s there s so many people that it s easy to be there and get lost. Here I stand out. Harry smirked feebly and looked fleetingly at her. And I usually don t stand out in a good way.
Hermione frowned and walked up to him. She stopped directly in front of him and Harry slowly brought his eyes up to meet hers. He expected bossy, domineering Hermione from the stance of her body, but when he reached her face there was only compassion and worry.
Something in her eyes told him to stand and he took his weight off the dresser and stood upright. It brought them closer together, and it made him half an inch taller than she.
Hermione looked up into his face a moment then, without asking, calmly stepped into him and wrapped her arms around his neck. And Harry was finally getting that hug he knew he had needed since the car.
Harry brought his arms up around her and held her snugly. It was easier every time. It was easy now. What was beyond the ease of this embrace? How could it possibly feel better, more right, more therapeutic, next time? Harry rested his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes. Hermione was a powerful witch, but her greatest magic was how she could do this to him. Nothing in his life had ever made him feel like everything would be okay except when Hermione held him.
The sound of the door opening surprised them both, but not in time to jump apart before Miranda poked her head inside and saw them.
Oh, surprise registered as she saw her daughter and Harry drop their arms from each other and move apart. For a second there was blank confusion, then Miranda s expression barely hardened. Harry darted a look at Hermione. He was astounded at what he saw. Hermione s cheeks were slightly pink, but that was the only indication of any embarrassment or guilt. Hermione was standing proudly beside Harry, chin up, eyes squarely meeting her mother s. Harry couldn t imagine where this Hermione had been hiding. Had this woman been inside her all these years and he simply never noticed before?
From the slightly startled look on Miranda s face, he had to think this was new to her, too.
Miranda recovered in the next moment and cleared her throat. Lunch is ready. Harry was sure that her voice was a little colder than it had been before. It made him regret hugging Hermione, no matter how much he d needed it. It wasn t worth angering Hermione s parents.
Hermione smiled. All right, and back was the old Hermione, the Hermione from the train station. The Hermione that was gay and chipper for her parents sake.
Miranda looked a long moment at Hermione, and Harry knew that she was just now understanding that the Hermione she d seen since the station, the Hermione she d always known, was an act. She recognized with bewilderment that her daughter had been faking being same old Hermione. That in unguarded moments, she was no longer a Hermione that Miranda would immediately recognize.
Come on, Harry, Hermione turned to him and Harry met her eyes and searched frantically for some foothold. Could the Granger household survive his presence? Look what it had done so far, even if only for a moment Miranda had seen a stranger in her daughter.
But Hermione s smile was back, suggesting everything was fine. It was the light in her eyes saying the same thing that finally got Harry to move and follow her out of the room.
Miranda watched Harry and Hermione like a hawk during lunch. Harry didn t say much; he ate quietly, as though afraid every movement would be a misstep. He answered direct questions, but otherwise was the very definition of unobtrusive. He occasionally looked toward Hermione. When Hermione happened to catch his eye there would be a moment, something, a surge of something that transcended the four of them at the table eating turkey sandwiches. In those seconds, Miranda saw flickers of a girl, a woman, a side of Hermione she had never seen before. It was the same flash that she d seen when she caught Hermione and Harry hugging. It was almost like a disjointed soul had moved into Hermione s body. A soul older, wiser, solemner than the girl Miranda saw leave for Hogwarts at the beginning of term.
It made her want to cry dear lord, what s happened?
Jake, oblivious, was making conversation with Hermione like old times. He asked about the school year and finally Hermione talked about Hogwarts. Miranda only then realized it was the first time their normally talkative daughter had broached the subject that was usually her topic of choice.
Miranda listened with split concentration while Hermione gave a very, very brief, non-specific account of the year. That, too, was abnormal. Hermione could make a five-minute incident at Hogwarts into an hour long tale. It was almost with the air of an off-handed comment that she said, Oh, well, this year there were people from a couple of other magic schools at Hogwarts for this tournament.
Miranda noticed, because she d been watching both so intently, that Harry froze.
Oh? Jake asked. What kind of tournament? Is this like that football game you mentioned?
One side of Hermione s mouth quirked upward for a half-second. No, not Quidditch. This was, well, a bigger competition, and there were only four contestants. Two from the other schools and two from Hogwarts.
Harry had stopped eating. He placed his hands slowly in his lap, as though trying to avoid drawing attention, as if he was trying to physically disappear. Hermione continued to smile at her father but her eyes slid over to rest on Harry, and the light in her eyes was anything but merry like her voice.
Miranda wanted to know, she needed to understand. Where was the cheerful, honest Hermione she d raised? The girl whose face matched her mood?
Jake pressed further about the tournament. He teased that living in a house where he was outnumbered by women he was sports-starved.
Oh, Hermione brightened, too brightly, you ought to have Harry explain Quidditch to you, then. I know I ve done a ruddy job, but Harry knows all about it. He s the Gryffindor seeker.
Jake smiled at the idea, clearly making an effort. Well, then, Harry.
Harry flinched and looked up when the attention was on him.
Jake said amiably, How does that sound to you?
Harry nodded. That d be fine, sir.
Hermione sighed faintly in relief.
Jake reached for his glass. Think you could explain this tournament as well? If it s sports-related then I fear my dear Hermione won t have paid much attention. I love her dearly, but she d never notice a sport so long as there was a book to be had. I bet you could fill me in, though, right?
Harry cast his eyes downward.
Hermione bit her lip. She glanced at Harry. She seemed to make a decision. Well, yes, Harry was one of the Hogwarts contestants. Miranda noted that that detail was seemingly provided with reluctance and didn t know why there was the need.
Jake grunted in acknowledgement as he took a swallow of lemonade. Ah, quite the sportsman, eh, Harry?
Harry gave a stiff shrug. I don t know about that. I prefer Quidditch.
Tournament wasn t your fancy, I take it?
Harry frowned. No, sir.
Hermione jumped into the conversation again, talking about the Beauxbatons and Durmstrangs and reciting nearly an entire history of the two schools, and it was just like their old Hermione, but this time Miranda could see it was a farce. Hermione was chattering to pull the conversation away from the details of the tournament and from Harry. Miranda felt like her home had been twisted and left contorted in a shape she didn t know yet how to rectify. Her daughter had come home a changed person, and it didn t take a genius to know that Harry had a great deal to do with the emergence of this new Hermione.
Harry didn t eat another bite after the mention of the tournament. He picked at his food. Miranda noticed, and so did Hermione. She cast a worried, fretful look at him several times but she didn t say a word.
By the end of lunch things were back to some semblance of normal. Harry was explaining Quidditch to Jake, and the subject seemed to relax Harry. Kimmy had appeared in the dining room during the explanation of beaters and bludgers; no one had noticed the dog gone until it showed up out of the depths of the house and sat by the wall where she watched the proceedings alertly. Miranda could swear even the dog seemed to watch Harry with a kind of consuming interest.
Hermione helped Miranda clear the table when everyone was finished; she paused with a frown at Harry s half-eaten sandwich before throwing it away.
Hermione, Miranda turned pointedly to her daughter. She d sat in silence with the things she d seen and discovered long enough. Her daughter had some explaining to do. And it shouldn t feel like introductions, but with the vastly different Hermione she d seen in her daughter since the train station it felt like she was asking to get to know the young woman for the first time.
Hermione looked at her mother plainly. There was no hint of childish, open naivety in her expression. She looked unfathomably older.
Would you come with me a moment? I d like to speak with you.
Hermione stilled then nodded. It seemed Hermione understood what this concerned, and with that simple nod she acknowledged a conversation bound to happen. She accepted it like a penance, a cross to bear.
The two walked through the dining room, past the boys talking sports, and into the hall. Hermione followed her mother into her parents bedroom. She closed the door behind her without having to be told and stood silently.
Miranda turned to face her daughter. She noted that the mask was gone, the faked fine that Hermione had been parading since the train station. Miranda wasn t sure if she was happy to see the act gone or not.
Miranda sat down on the edge of her and Jake s bed and studied her daughter a moment. Something in Hermione s face, something in the way her eyes glinted, made Miranda want to gather her daughter into her lap as she had when Hermione was little and scraped her knee and cried for comfort. Somehow, she looked like she needed consoling, even though Hermione stood unflinching, waiting bravely.
Miranda beckoned Hermione closer. After a beat, Hermione walked over to the bed and sat down facing her mother.
Miranda tried to think of where to start. Who are you? seemed both right and wrong for the moment. Instead, she went to the incident that had done this, made Miranda look her daughter in the eye and recognize a different person looking back.
I thought this Harry bloke was just a friend, Hermione.
Hermione sighed wearily. He is, Mum.
Miranda cocked an eyebrow. Maybe so, but somehow that hug had seemed more than what childhood friends warranted.
Hermione s brow furrowed and she paused. It made her seem tired somehow. Harry s had a really bad year. She looked off to the side. Her mind was clearly racing. She dropped her chin and her voice in surrender. He saw one of our classmates killed.
Miranda gasped involuntarily. Of everything she d been braced to hear, a student s death had not been one of them.
Hermione s eyes watered. She reached up, wiped angrily at her own tears, and took a steadying breath. Where once Hermione would have just started talking, talked until she was dry in the mouth, this time she sat quietly and ached alone even though her mother was less than a foot away. Miranda cursed this time, of all times, for her daughter to decide to keep details sparse. She wanted to understand what had changed her girl.
Hermione s voice wavered as she said tremulously, Harry was badly hurt. I thought well, I -we almost lost him, too. It s just been rough on Harry. And his family, a burst of fury erupted in her voice, enough to make Miranda sit back. Never had such hate laced her daughter s tone.
Hermione stopped to control herself. Harry s family they re terrible. They don t care about him at all. I couldn t bear to see him go back there, not after what he d been through. They d see he was they d take advantage of his state, they d only hurt him more. He s been through so much, and he has no where to turn that s why I hugged him. Harry doesn t have anybody else who will.
Miranda had not expected this. When she decided to confront her daughter she had quite honestly anticipated a girlish blush, a giggle, then a confession that her little girl had developed a crush on her best friend. That would have made sense in a rational world. Miranda had some ideas on how to deal with that. But to have this thrown at her instead; her daughter s best friend witnessing the death of a fellow student, hints of an abusive family, of a life so devoid of affection that the girl before her was the only place to find something as commonplace as a hug it was staggering and beyond the realm of normal. But then, looking at the ghost in the back of Hermione s eyes, Miranda had to admit her expectation of a teenage crush hadn t been realistic. Crushes didn t make a girl a matron, a child an old soul.
Honey, Miranda began slowly. Hermione sighed, the shuddering sigh of a child, then she turned her eyes up to her mother. In the eyes it was not so much a child. I m not upset. I just wanted to know if there was anything I should worry about.
A tear slid down Hermione s cheek. Her chin quivered and her lips thinned. Miranda could almost see a break-down pending.
Hermione whimpered. Yes, Mum, you should, but not about me.
Miranda couldn t hold back any longer. The ghost in her eyes be damned, her daughter s voice and body begged to be comforted. She reached over and drew Hermione into a hug. Hermione clung to her mother and finally, finally, let herself cry. Miranda held her daughter tightly as her lithe body was wracked with sobs. It scared Miranda. Hermione was a very strong person; she didn t shatter like this.
Was it truly so bad? she found herself asking desperately.
Hermione hiccupped and cried harder. Miranda clutched Hermione tighter. She had her answer.
After a couple of minutes Hermione calmed down. Her tears stopped and her breathing returned to normal. Miranda released her reluctantly when Hermione pulled away. Hermione wiped her face with her hands and sniffed.
I m so sorry, sweetheart. I m sorry things were so terrible.
Hermione nodded faintly. It was ten times worse for Harry. She looked directly at her mother with puffy, red eyes that stood in stark contrast to the determination in her brown gaze. He needs me.
At some point during the crying jag, Miranda had already figured that out. She nodded at Hermione. I understand.
Hermione s eyes flashed, a burst of disbelief that her mother could possibly understand, then she looked down at the bedspread and composed herself.
Miranda took her daughter s hand. Hermione I know Harry means a great deal to you. And I don t just mean because I caught you two hugging. You ve talked about nothing but Harry for four years. I m glad he s here, if only so I might meet the boy who brought a smile to your face more times than I can count. For that alone he s welcome here. And though I don t know him, I hope you ll tell me how I can help. Because anyone who stirs this kind of devotion in you is worth the effort.
Hermione at last smiled, and it was the first honest smile, from the new Hermione, that Miranda had seen. And somehow, it was even sweeter to see. He is, Mum.
Miranda bent forward and placed a kiss on her daughter s forehead. Somewhere in the unspoken exchanges between mother and daughter was the understanding that this summer was not about fun anymore, it was about healing a wounded boy.
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Chapter: 9
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Pstibbons suggested I post a link to our Harry Potter music vids, and I thought it was it was a good idea. So if anyone is interested, they can be found here: .
Harry s inexplicable tension around Jake Granger was slowly letting up to tolerable levels as he explained the ins and outs of Quidditch to Hermione s father. Not until he was describing the principles and strategies of the game did Harry have the opportunity to stop and realize how much he d missed the game during the year. He d much rather have had a season of Quidditch than the Triwizard Tournament. Things were so much simpler when he was chasing the snitch. An easy answer, a single purpose. Nothing more than snatching that glint of gold from the sky.
Harry had believed he was fairly intent on describing Quidditch in detail to someone who d never seen the game. He would have thought he d get lost in the subject, but the second that movement in the hallway registered out of the corner of his eyes he stopped to look.
He d noticed Hermione and her mother disappearing into the hall earlier. He d noted it but didn t think much of it. Not consciously, anyway. Only after they d been absent for a few minutes did Harry realize he d been on increasingly heightened alert for their return. Or rather, Hermione s. When there was indication of someone returning the raptness of his sudden attentiveness looked him in the face.
Miranda returned to the dining room first and she gave him a strange, sad look. Harry was given pause by that, confused and a little taken aback because Miranda looked remarkably like Hermione when she made that face. Then Harry s every sense jumped to razor-sharp acuity and he sat up straighter in his chair. Hermione came following after her mother, arms crossed, nose red, and eyes swollen. He could tell she d been crying.
A fierce force rose in his chest at the sight of her tear-streaked face. A strange conglomeration of worry and anger churned violently in his ribcage. He had the insane, ridiculous impulse to pull Hermione behind him, as though a Death Eater stood ready to strike her down.
Forgetting Jake, Harry stood from the table. Hermione stopped in the hallway, lingered in the shadows, and looked at him. She offered a thin smile.
The tide of protectiveness surged anew. If he d stopped to consider it, the immensity of that impulse would have staggered him, it imbued him with the need to act, and it carried him across the room. He strode to Hermione. She looked up at him with a tired, plaintive, relieved expression as he neared, and Harry was on autopilot. Heedless of Hermione s parents, Harry ushered Hermione back down the hall, into the only place he knew in this home. He took Hermione to his bedroom and escorted her inside. Only once they were alone together did he realize he d put his hand on her back, that he d walked so very close to her, that he d all but tucked her into his side as he took her away.
He d worry about how that might have looked later.
What s wrong? he asked at once.
Hermione turned away, embarrassed by her own tears and perceived weakness. She wiped at her cheeks and shook her head. As she stepped from him Harry had to hold back from shadowing her every move.
Hermione moved a few paces away, arms still crossed over her chest, and turned reluctantly to Harry. I m sorry. I told my mum about Cedric.
Harry stilled. He wasn t sure how he felt about that. All of his certitude and resolve, the drive of purpose that he d had when he brought Hermione to the bedroom, wavered in light of her confession. Somehow this had been more shaking than a Death Eater. At least there was a prescribed response to a Death Eater.
Are you angry with me? Hermione asked.
No. He replied on reflex, but on further reflection it was still the truth. He was pretty sure he wasn t mad.
Hermione bit her lip and watched him closely.
Harry raked a hand anxiously through his tousled black hair. What else did you tell her?
Hermione paled and her eyebrows drew closer together. I that you were hurt. That d you had a dreadful year.
Harry couldn t even start to decide how he felt about Miranda knowing even that much.
I didn t tell her you were Hermione s plea died on her lips and when he looked at her there was a kind of panic and agony in her face. She blinked at him, lips pressed tightly together, then she turned her head away and shut her eyes.
Strangely, it made Harry momentarily cognizant of the faint, last lingering aches in his joints from the Cruciatus. He rubbed his arms with his hands and frowned.
Hermione sat down on the end of the bed as she had when she first showed Harry the room. She looked down at her shoes, clearly guilty for what she d revealed of what might well be considered Harry s personal business.
Harry looked at her and felt stupid for noticing, considering the issues at hand, the way her hair fell in front of her face in brown-gold ringlets.
Harry walked over and sat down beside her. Hermione looked at him warily. He studied her rich brown eyes a moment before he said, It s okay.
Hermione scowled, not at him, but at the situation.
Harry couldn t help himself; he reached up and brushed a lock of hair back from Hermione s face. The look she favored him with was gentler, kinder, more open to listening. Harry played his fingertips through the trapped section of hair a second then dropped his hand.
It s hard to tell them, Hermione started, stopped mid-sentence, then continued. They don t know that there have been a lot of things over the years I never told them. Now it seems there s just too much to tell.
He was conspicuously quiet a moment. I never would have pegged you to not tell your parents stuff.
Hermione gave a strange, sour smile. Well, really, we ve been involved in some pretty dangerous things. Truthfully, I was afraid to tell them. What if they knew everything and decided it was too dangerous and didn t let me go back to Hogwarts? I couldn t bear it. All the risk has been worth it to be there. Hermione looked pointedly at him a moment then averted her eyes. She was quiet in deep thought for a while. Suppose now there s no choice but to tell them.
Harry tried to imagine sitting down, facing Hermione s parents, and having it all told. Everything about Voldemort and the tournament and all the things he had to live but because he was famous never had to say. It turned his stomach and made him unspeakably tired and depressed.
Well, they re your parents. Whatever you think they ought to know, I think you ought to tell them.
Hermione looked slowly at him and seemed to spend a good minute gauging him, perhaps measuring his sincerity. Are you sure?
Harry was sure of very little lately, much less this. He sat there quietly rather than tell her what might be a lie. He trusted her enough to leave it up to her.
No, Hermione shook her head curtly. Harry looked at her and saw firm decisiveness in her expression. No, I ll not. She turned glittering, intense eyes on Harry. It may be mucked up, but it s our world, Harry. I love my parents, but they re Hermione seemed to stumble at the leap her next word forced, muggles. There s not a thing they could do to protect me from You Know Who or his followers. You alone could do more to protect me than the both of them together.
She d used it as an example, a comment to the effect that one underage wizard was more than two adult muggles, but it had the effect of making something twist painfully in Harry s chest. He caught his breath and his heart hammered. Part of him wanted to scream in panic blimey, Hermione, don t say that! Don t depend on me like that! while another part of him wanted to shake the world to its foundation, tear reality apart to make a new beginning for her. Someplace safer than either had known in their entire lives. It made him want to run, but for one brief moment it also made him want to face Voldemort then and there. To end this now just to not let her down.
Hermione was still turning her decision over in her mind, unaware of Harry s small inner crisis. She was inside her own head, regarding the words she d said and the proclamation she d made. And with a calm gravity she made it her truth. Then and there her world schismed off. Where before she had walked the line between muggle and magic as a native of both, as she sat there next to Harry she made the choice. She made the ultimate choice she d thought she could postpone until graduating from Hogwarts. She chose magic, and it was with so little remorse that he saw her retire from the world of muggles. She d have her parents, but they would be the last relic of a life she willfully abandoned, a nostalgic timepiece but no longer her place.
Somehow, watching her pick made Harry feel as though a decision in his life he didn t know had been unresolved was settled. He d never known he had his own uncertainties that tore him between muggle and magic until he saw it vividly in Hermione. He didn t know he was waiting for permission to break free until she broke before him.
You ll let me help you, won t you, Harry?
Harry blinked. He d been so overcome with a strange kind of peace and relief to denounce his citizenship to the muggle world that her sudden words took him by surprise. It was almost impossible to think that something as commonplace as conversation would be allowed after such a monumental event.
When he focused on her she was watching him very intently. There was a need for his consent, whatever this request she asked, that he d not seen so blaring before in her features. Almost on the spot, without fully understanding her question, he wanted to say yes. Whatever she wanted.
Prudence made him ask. Help me what?
Hermione took his hand, eyes never leaving his. Fight Voldemort.
Harry jerked back. No was his instinctive reaction. Anything but that. In the instant she asked he could only see Cedric when he thought on it another second it was Hermione instead. Soaring joy and freedom were replaced with a dread and terror more powerful than Harry had ever known.
Hermione gripped his hand tighter, refused to let him flee.
Hermione! I can t. I can t let you. You could be killed. I won t put you in that kind of danger.
Hermione scowled. This time it was at him. Oh, don t you understand, Harry? Don t you get it? You ve not a choice. You can t leave me.
He wasn t sure how she meant it, but he knew how it resonated pure and true in his chest. No, he couldn t. He d crippled himself with his need for her. She was right, as always. He couldn t let her go. Because he was selfish he d let her be in that kind of danger.
I ll save you, he heard himself say, the words like a benediction. As soon as they were out of his mouth he felt like an idiot. He didn t know that he could do that. He didn t even know if he could save himself. He hated to think of lying to her.
But Hermione was watching him calmly, without doubt. She only nodded and leaned closer. You ll save us. He ll be gone and then we ll be free, Harry.
Harry shivered involuntarily when a strange, wispy image rushed through his mind, as though a half-formed scene in one of Trelawney s crystal balls. Him and Hermione and a day beyond Hogwarts, beyond the threat of Voldemort, beyond so many years he used to think he d never live to see. The hints of a promise that he couldn t fathom, couldn t comprehend without falling apart. He gasped for breath and Hermione caught him on the exhale with a hand placed softly on his chest.
We have to win, Harry whispered. The stakes were so much higher now. He d always known Voldemort might one day take his life. Now it was a matter of Hermione s.
Hermione lowered her hand and her tone conveyed the nonnegotiable. We will. She paused a few seconds then the moment, the enormity of all they d said and vowed, seemed to step behind a curtain for safe-keeping. She stood and tugged on his hand for him to follow suit. Come on. I should give you a proper tour of the house.
Miri, Jake said as he and his wife were getting ready for bed.
Hmm? Miranda murmured as she unbound her wild chestnut hair and grabbed a brush.
What do you know about this boy Harry?
Miranda smiled sagaciously. I thought you might ask once he showed up, she picked up a book on her nightstand and held it out to her husband. I took it from Hermione s bookshelf; I marked the chapter on him.
He has a chapter?
Miranda s smile turned bittersweet. He is a rather remarkable boy, Jake though I m not sure it s really in the best way.
Jake took the book, turned to the bookmarked page, and with an astounded shake of his head sat back against the headboard and began to read. By the time Miranda joined him, ready for bed, his face was a study of contemplative disquiet. He looked up from reading and considered his wife. I m not sure I like this, dear.
What do you mean?
Jake put the book down. At the train station today, before we got back to the car, Harry stopped me and warned me.
Miranda frowned and gave a half-nod for him to continue.
He told me he was dangerous, Jake glanced at the book in his lap, rather, that he had very dangerous enemies. I don t know that I rightly believed him. What boy his age could have enemies like that? Jake shook his head and set the book aside as though it was poisonous. But he does.
Miranda moved the covers aside and slipped between the sheets. I m worried, too. A thick pause. Hermione told me today that a student was killed at Hogwarts this year.
What?!
I don t think she really wanted to tell me. I kind of cornered her about Harry and she told me. It seems Harry was there when it happened.
Jake was flabbergasted. What should we do?
Miranda sighed in defeat. What can we do? This boy Harry is her best friend; we can t very well tell her to stop spending time with him.
Why not? Jake asked a bit petulantly.
Miranda winced as though physically pained to speak it. You ve seen her around him. You ve heard the way she s talked about him for years; if we forced her to choose I don t think we d like her choice, honey.
Oh, bullocks, Jake grumbled. He knew Miranda was right.
She s a smart girl I fear that s the only thing we can trust.
Maybe she should go to a normal school next year. You know, instead of Hogwarts. Would have to be safer than that magic school, wouldn t it? Without Jake picked up the book and shook it to indicate the horror story within that was their houseguest s life.
Miranda didn t answer right away. I ve thought that too, several times over the years but could you really do it? Tell her not to go? I couldn t, and I ve tried. I ve gone so far as standing at the door to her room to tell her we were putting her into public school. You know what stopped me? An owl. Just then one of those mail birds brought her a letter, and she jumped up to fetch it, and I knew I could never take it from her. It s not just a phase she s going through, it s who she is. She ll always have this in her, a part of her, and wouldn t it be terribly phobic and myopic of us to think we could just stick her in a normal school and have everything fixed?
Jake grunted unhappily. I don t want to admit you re right. After a time scowling he sighed in resignation. I don t know if I care for this Harry kid.
Always or just since you read that book? Miranda asked pointedly.
Oh fine. But still, there s something a bit dramatic about him, isn t there?
Perhaps that s what comes of living through the things he has.
They re children! He shouldn t have, and he oughtn t to bring our Hermione into it.
Oh, Jake, she brought herself into it. You know she wouldn t get involved any other way.
Well, I whatever Jake began to say was cut short when there was an inhuman screech within the house, followed by a loud crash.
As one, Jake and Miranda leapt out of bed, rushed out of their room, and with two short strides down the hall were at the scene of the disruption.
Miranda gave a squawk and Jake grabbed his wife s arm as though to brace her.
The guest room door stood open, giving full view of the spectacle within. Harry s trunk was open on the floor and somehow articles of clothing had ended up all over the room, as though they d leapt from his suitcase the moment it was unlatched. Harry and Hermione were both standing in the room, both still fully dressed from the day, Hermione closer to the door. When Jake and Miranda showed up they both looked toward the adults with mixed looks of surprise, confusion, and self-recrimination to have brought the attention of the parents. In the window frame was the reason Miranda had yelped. A creature, short in stature with large, bat-like ears and globe-like green eyes, wearing a pair of blue silk boxer shorts like overalls, stood in the windowsill with thin arms and legs spread wide like a goalie guarding the net. Its wide eyes were locked on the mass of white on the floor of the room. Hedwig was there, wings spread like a circling wrestler s as she screeched and snapped her beak angrily at the strange creature standing in the open window. White feathers littered the floor as though the bird and creature had tussled and Jake and Miranda had walked in on a d tente. Completing the cast, Crookshanks was on Harry s bed watching the goings on, and were it not for the slightly raised hairs on his back would have seem utterly unmoved by the incident.
What the Jake gaped. He couldn t tear his eyes from the small creature. What is that?
Hermione answered brusquely, like it was a secondary matter to the issue at hand. She s a house elf. She was assigned to watch over Harry this summer. That s Kimmy, Dad.
Wa-the dog?!
Miranda asked, What is going on here?
Harry edged closer to the obvious stand-off between Kimmy and Hedwig.
She must not go, Mister Harry Potter, a resolute Kimmy stated, still spread wide to block the window.
Hedwig screamed indignantly.
Harry knelt beside the owl and said gently, All right, Hedwig? He glanced in concern at the errant feathers on the floor and dresser. Hedwig tucked her wings to her sides and clicked her beak. She shuffled on her feet and glared at Kimmy. She appeared fine aside from being in a terrible temper.
Kimmy barely lowered her arms. Harry Potter s owl is easy to recognize. You must not allow her to leave the house as she is, the wrong type could see her return here.
Hermione stood back and watched without comment. Crookshanks sat down, lifted a paw, and began to clean himself. His manner would suggest complete disinterest were it not for the fact he kept his eyes fixed on Harry and Hedwig the entire time.
Harry looked sadly at his bird then at Kimmy. But surely she doesn t have to stay inside all summer?
Of course she doesn t, sir. I must needs only to transfigure her appearance a bit. Then they wouldn t recognize her.
Hedwig screeched again. Obviously that was an insult of immeasurable proportions.
What kind of transfiguration are you talking about? Harry asked warily.
Her color foremost, sir. A snowy owl is far too easy to see. Even at night she s so easily spotted.
Harry sat down fully on the floor, slid closer to Hedwig, and offered her his forearm. Hedwig stepped up and closed her claws around the material of his jacket. The action was completed without Hedwig once taking her eyes off Kimmy. Harry brought the bird to his lap and stroked her breast feathers. Will you let her change your color, Hedwig? he asked in a very gentle, low voice.
Hedwig chirruped, as though shocked he took Kimmy s side, and looked away.
Oh, honestly, who would think Hedwig would be so vain about her looks, Hermione muttered.
Hermione, Harry said in a slightly sterner tone of voice. Hedwig looked back at Harry, maybe only forgiving him in the wake of being defended against Hermione.
Please, Hedwig. Kimmy s right. A lot of people know you re my familiar. We don t need to invite trouble any more than we already do. I couldn t bear to see you stuck indoors all summer like we were back at the Dursleys. Let Kimmy change your color. No matter what color you are, you re a beautiful owl.
Hedwig ruffled her feathers and half-closed her eyes in an eerie imitation of a human glower. Then she laid her feathers flat again and reached up to nibble Harry s ear. Harry smiled and pet her tenderly. Thank you, Hedwig. Harry turned to Kimmy and said, Go ahead, Kimmy. Just her color, though, please? I don t know that she d ever forgive either of us if you turned her into a scoop owl.
Kimmy nodded and gave a snap of her fingers. Before their eyes Hedwig s feathers changed. Starting at her head it was like watching a bottle of ink spill over her body black engulfed her feathers until the snow white bird on Harry s arm was pitch black.
Be very hard indeed to spot her at night now, Kimmy said plainly.
Hedwig looked down at herself and seemed to lament the loss of her gorgeous plumage. Harry scratched her neck lovingly. You look fine, Hedwig. The black really brings out your eyes.
Hedwig cast Harry a scathing don t patronize me look, then took off from Harry s lap. Kimmy leapt aside from the open window and Hedwig disappeared quickly into the night quicker than she would have as a white owl.
Harry stood from the floor and turned to face Hermione and incidentally also faced Jake and Miranda. He looked to the floor and shifted on his feet.
Kimmy adjusted her boxers as a businessman might smooth out a suit and stepped forward. Mister and Missus Granger! I m Kimmy. Master Albus asked me to protect Harry Potter.
Jake and Miranda gaped at the little creature that was looking up at them.
Hermione spoke first. Is that all right, Mum, Dad? She won t be any trouble.
Oh no, no trouble. Here to prevent trouble. Kimmy rocked from the balls of her feet to the heels like a schoolgirl.
Headmaster Dumbledore recommended that she stay the summer, Hermione further appealed. He chose Kimmy because she s used to being around mug non-magic people, she ll make sure no one sees her as a house elf but us. You don t mind, do you?
Well um, I guess not, Jake stuttered.
Hermione sighed in relief.
Miranda at last brushed her husband s hand off her upper arm. No, I suppose it s not a problem. But well, when we thought she was a dog we just put out a mat for her to sleep on. I mean, might she... um, you, want a bit better than a dog bed, Kimmy?
Kimmy grinned. No worries! Kimmy s already set up some living quarters in your hall closet! Really cozy room just right of the raincoats!
Oh, um well, all right, then. The closet. Wait, does that mean we re supposed to knock before we get into the closet or something?
Kimmy giggled and bounced up and down, causing her to make a grab for the blue boxers that almost slid off her body entirely. Such funny muggles! No need to worry about disturbing Kimmy. Good night! Kimmy trotted out of the room, between Jake and Miranda s legs, and as promised scurried to the hall closet, opened the door, slipped inside, and shut the closet door after her.
Miranda and Jake, still baffled, looked back into the room at Harry and Hermione.
Hermione was smiling sheepishly. Sorry for the racket.
Miranda didn t know what to say. Instead she looked around at the mess of the room. Seeing her glance, Harry said at once, I ll clean it up.
Jake and Miranda exchanged like shrugs. Very well then. Good night, you two. Miranda gently pushed Jake in front of her back in the direction of their bedroom.
I don t think what the bloody hell fully covers that, Jake mused aloud.
Oh, not nearly, but I suspect we d best get used to it for the summer.