Chapter 7
Harry was flying across the Quidditch pitch, his Nimbus 2000 rocketing him across a field of perfect green. Every seat in the stands was packed with cheering fans, and the sky was a bright blue devoid of clouds. He felt the fresh air whizzing through his hair as he zoomed back and forth, searching for the Snitch. He ascended upwards and surveyed his surroundings carefully. Suddenly a flash of gold fluttered across his vision, and Harry moved to reach for it.
Except he couldn't. His right hand, the hand he always used to catch the Snitch, felt tremendously heavy, as if an invisible weight were holding it back. Harry thought he was being jinxed, and looked down to see if Snape was pointing his wand at him from below.
'Not Snape…Quirrell!' Harry thought to himself, and suddenly he remembered everything that had happened. He recalled drinking his fire-immunity potion, finding Quirrell, finding the Stone, and fighting Voldemort. He even recalled being told Snape was the reason he was still alive. 'Gross…' He groaned internally. A flood of memories crashed into his brain and he instinctively opened his eyes.
'Wait, what?' Harry thought as his vision blurred. There was no Quidditch pitch, there was no broom, and there certainly was no snitch. Harry blinked furiously as he was nearly blinded by the sudden rush of brightness. Even when his eyes adjusted to the light, his surroundings were still incredibly blurry. 'Probably because you wear glasses, you prat!'
Harry made a mental note to find some way to hex the voice in his head into submission. Blindly fumbling around with his left hand, he noticed his right hand was still remarkable heavy. Wondering if he had been injured, he felt his fingers close around his glasses. Frantically pushing them up his nose, Harry was finally able to take in his surroundings.
He was in the Hospital Wing. He saw several empty beds across from him and assumed he was alone. From what he could see through the tall windows opposite him, the sun was just beginning to rise on the Hogwarts grounds, bathing the castle and its surroundings in golden light. He looked to his left and saw the entire hospital bed next to him was covered in flowers and candies and cards bearing all kinds of well-wishes. Harry felt his entire body warm up at the thought of so many people wishing him their best, although he was fairly certain he didn't really know most of them.
Then, he looked to his right, and saw what was wrong with his hand. Expecting a gruesome injury or a heavy cast, Harry couldn't help but gasp at what actually ailed him: a certain bushy-haired witch sat asleep in a chair next to his bed, her fingers intertwined with his own, rendering his hand useless. Once he'd recovered from the surprise at seeing his friend and the sight of their hands, Harry surveyed the scene further. A neatly-folded bunch of silvery fabric lay beneath Hermione's chair – his Invisibility Cloak. Hermione was also wearing a bathrobe over what looked like pajamas, and Harry wondered just how long she'd been sitting next to his bed. He gingerly sat up to get a better look at Hermione, who was still sound asleep.
She looked paler than he'd ever seen her, and a tad thinner. Harry wondered if she'd eaten a true meal since he'd been in the Hospital Wing.
'How long have I been in the Hospital Wing?' He wondered to himself, absent-mindedly cocking his head as he stared off into space. At first he thought it was the morning after he and Hermione had gone through the trapdoor, but he was starting to believe more time had passed. The more he thought about his tenure in the Hospital Wing, the more questions he had. He turned to his best friend, who was still dozing peacefully. Her head was tilted back, her lips slightly parted, and every once in a while she made a faint noise in her throat.
He gently squeezed her hand, and she stirred slightly. She shifted in her chair, a faint smile pulling the corners of her mouth up ever so slightly. But her eyes remained closed. Feeling slightly guilty about disturbing her, Harry squeezed her hand once again and managed a hoarse whisper.
"Hermione!"
Her eyes fluttered open. Her deep, brown eyes looked slightly dazed as she took in the sight in front of her. Then, as if someone inside her flipped a switch, her face brightened and she beamed at him.
"Harry!" She cried out before lunging over the bed, tackling him onto his back in her fiercest hug yet. "Are you alright?"
"Well, I'm having some trouble breathing!" He choked out, unable to hide the smile on his face. Hermione pulled away and playfully slapped his arm, staring at him. "But otherwise I think I'm fine. How are you?" He asked. Hermione was silent and perfectly still for maybe half a second before she threw her arms around him once again. "Hermione!" He managed, weakly patting her on the back.
"You don't ask me how I am when you've been unconscious in the Hospital Wing for three days, Harry Potter!" She scolded, refusing to relinquish her death grip until Harry started wheezing. She stepped back, but rather than return to her chair she plopped down on the edge of his bed, turning so she could sit cross-legged and face her best friend.
"I've been in here for three days?" He finally asked once Hermione had made herself comfortable. She nodded, her eyes darkening with concern.
"I ran straight to McGonagall. She threatened to dock Gryffindor two hundred points for waking her up, but eventually she realized I was serious and got in contact with Dumbledore, except he was already back at Hogwarts, and he marched down to get you and the Stone. Dumbledore said he found you unconscious, but you still had a death grip on the Stone and Quirrell was dead." She explained, her voice shaking as she recounted what had happened after she left her friend in the Potion chamber. Harry sat in amazement for a moment, staring distantly, then turned back to Hermione.
"What happened to the Stone?" He asked. Hermione shrugged.
"Dumbledore said he'd tell me later. He called me into his office once they got you out of there and into the Hospital Wing and explained as much as he could."
"I seem to recall I had to drag you away from Mister Potter's bedside!" A voice chuckled from the entrance to the Hospital Wing. The two first-years jumped in surprise, and Hermione nearly fell off the bed. The pair looked to see none other than Albus Dumbledore strolling towards them, a cheerful twinkle in his eyes. "But I don't think you want me to tell that story in front of Harry, do you, Miss Granger?" He mused, a small smile on his face. Harry swore he saw her wink at Hermione, whose cheeks were burning bright red. "May I?" The headmaster asked politely as he moved to sit in the chair Hermione had been sleeping in earlier. The two nodded quickly and he happily sat down. An awkward silence enveloped the three of them as the elder wizard gazed at them with an unreadable expression. Finally, Hermione broke the silence.
"Professor Dumbledore, why are you here?" She managed in a nervous voice. The headmaster turned to her and Harry noticed how much trouble she was having with maintaining eye contact.
"Well, I had a hunch Harry here would be awake, and I figured he would have a few questions for me. I should have known he would not be alone…" Dumbledore answered, clearly amused at Hermione's presence. He turned back to Harry, but it was Hermione who spoke again.
"I'm sorry for being out past curfew, er – before breakfast, it's just that I needed – " But she stopped when Dumbledore held up his hand.
"If I were to recount this visit to the Hospital Wing, I don't think I'd even recall you being here, Miss Granger. It's almost as if you were invisible…" He smiled again, nudging the Invisibility Cloak with his shoe. Hermione squeaked, but Harry just grinned.
"So it was you that gave me the Cloak at Christmas!" The old man nodded, turning back to Harry.
"I imagine you have some more questions, Harry?" He offered, grabbing a pack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans from Harry's collection. Harry nodded eagerly and the two entered an intense conversation.
"What happened to the Stone? Did you give it back to Mr. Flamel?" Harry asked, and Dumbledore smiled almost wistfully.
"Not exactly, Harry. After the events that transpired three nights ago, Mr. Flamel and I thought it best to destroy the Sorcerer's Stone. The last thing he wanted was for his creation to fall into the hands of an individual like Voldemort."
Harry nodded eagerly, and he continued to pepper the headmaster with questions. When he asked about his scar, Harry felt felt tears well up in his eyes as Dumbledore explained how Lily Potter's sacrifice out of love was what kept him alive ten years ago and kept him alive against Quirrell. Hermione reached over and grabbed his hand when he let out a small sob, and Harry gave her an appreciative glance.
"So why did Voldemort come after me, then?" Harry asked once he wiped his eyes. Dumbledore's eyes darkened, only for a moment. He inhaled for a very long time, gazing at Harry with curiosity.
"Alas, Harry. This question is one that I cannot answer. Not today, at least. One day – and I know how much children loathe to hear this – one day I will tell you. When you're older. When you're ready."
Harry and Hermione sat in an uneasy silence. Harry had no more questions, and the Headmaster then stood, clapping his hands together as if their conversation hadn't taken a turn for the mysterious. After Dumbledore bid them good day, he strolled out of the Hospital Wing, absent-mindedly tossing more Every Flavored Beans into his mouth. Hermione turned back to Harry once the doors shut behind the headmaster.
"I don't like him not answering that question. You have a right to know why You-Know-Who is after you, don't you?" She prodded. Harry nodded, silently wondering to himself why Dumbledore wouldn't answer him. "Anyway, I wonder who all these gifts are from!" She mused, clearly trying to change the subject. She reached over to the next bed to grab a few cards. "The Weasley Twins wish you well, but I wouldn't open any gifts from them – just to be cautious. Probably full of fireworks or something dangerous. Then again, if you're going to open it, you might as well do it in the Hospital Wing…" She trailed off, giggling at her own joke. Harry cracked a smile and leaned over to read his cards.
The two of them spent the better part of a half hour going through gifts and chowing down on all sorts of treats. Harry teased Hermione about what her dentist parents would think, eating so much candy before breakfast. That earned him a playful swat on the shoulder before they broke into laughter.
The two heard the Hospital Wing doors creak open, and Hermione quickly dashed off the bed and threw the Invisibility Cloak over herself. Madam Pomfrey marched in, quickly tending to Harry, checking his temperature and handing him several different potions. He peeked around the nurse to see the oak doors to the corridor inch open before closing once again, and he smiled to himself.
"If you want to attend the end of term feast tonight, you'll drink all of these and you will not leave this bed!" Pomfrey practically hissed before entering her office. Harry managed to choke down the horrible-tasting concoctions without emptying his stomach in the trash can by his bed.
Harry spent his morning and afternoon lying in bed and recounting his adventure to his many visitors. The Gryffindor Quidditch team paid him an early visit, and Wood broke the news that they'd lost the Quidditch Cup to Ravenclaw without Harry as their Seeker. The boy wizard buried his face in his hands, but each of his teammates was quick to reassure them that none of them blamed him. He knew they were telling the truth, but Wood's pained expression was nearly unbearable.
Next, Ron and Hermione had come dashing in and Harry recounted what happened.
"I still can't believe you didn't wake me up!" Ron said, though his tone was one of fascination, not anger. "Hermione told me about sacrificing that knight to get a path to the King, that was brilliant!" Harry and Hermione quickly stammered something about it totally being intentional. "Well, besides chess, I doubt I'd have done much anyway. We're all just glad you got the stone out of You-Know-Who's hands!"
Harry nodded, silently grateful his redheaded friend hadn't erupted at him and Hermione for going without him. He hadn't even planned to go with Hermione, but she'd forced his hand.
'Luckily…' Harry thought to himself, and for once he agreed with the voice in his head.
Harry had several other visitors: Neville, Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas, Lavender Brown and Pavarti Patil, Percy Weasley, and several professors all popped into the Hospital Wing to wish him well and thank him for what he had done. Harry felt sheepish at every 'thank-you' and was certain his cheeks would be permanently red by the time his last visitor, an incredibly cheerful Professor Flitwick, concluded his visit.
"Alright, you can get up now. The feast will start soon, but you're to go straight to your common room once it ends, do you understand?" Madam Pomfrey explained as she helped Harry out of bed. Harry nodded once his legs stopped wobbling, and he began his walk down to the Great Hall.
Even though it was decked out in Slytherin green and silver, Harry had to admire the opulence of the banquet hall. The snake-adorned banners that lined the walls were enormous and undeniably beautiful, and a flag depicting a massive serpent floated above the staff table for all to admire.
Harry quickly dashed over to Ron and Hermione, squeezing in between them as Dumbledore stood and began his end of term speech. Harry groaned as the headmaster explained that Gryffindor had come in last place, a full one hundred points behind Slytherin.
"However," The headmaster continued, and the room fell silent. "Recent events must be taken into account."
Hushed whispers broke out, and the smug expressions worn by Draco Malfoy and all the other Slytherins faltered. Harry felt his heart race in excitement, but didn't dare react until he found out just what Dumbledore's statement meant.
Suddenly, the Herbology Professor – Pomona Sprout – stood up: "For demonstrating complex understanding of classroom-based Herbology concepts in real-world scenarios, I award Hermione Granger of Gryffindor twenty-five points!"
The cheers at the Gryffindor table were raucous, and even a few Hufflepuff students joined in applause as their head of house awarded the witch her points. Hermione was blushing profusely as Harry clapped and cheered louder than anyone. The gap between Gryffindor and Slytherin was still massive, but Harry was ecstatic to see Hermione get rewarded for her brilliance.
Then, Professor Flitwick stood up (standing on his chair so he could actually be seen) as Professor Sprout sat down: "For demonstrating tremendous ability by thwarting a complex series of charms in a high-pressure situation, I award Harry Potter of Gryffindor twenty-five points!"
Harry felt himself getting clapped on the back ferociously by a grinning Ron, and it was his turn to blush at his classmates' cheers. He saw Ravenclaw students across the hall join in their cheers as Hermione threw her arms around him, beaming with pride.
Once the din subsided, Professor McGonagall stood up, her lips still pressed tightly together but a small smile forming at the corners of her mouth: "For demonstrating an innate ability to persevere and for conquering a very advanced obstacle with unparalleled logic and reason, I award Hermione Granger and Harry Potter of Gryffindor twenty-five points…" She paused. "Each." She finished, sitting down as if it were a perfectly normal announcement, when it was quite the opposite. Harry and Hermione had single-handedly evened the race for the House Cup. All of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw were cheering their hearts out as Harry and Hermione were mobbed by their friends.
The noise finally died down and everyone realized there hadn't been a tie for the House Cup in some time.
"What happens now?" Harry heard a voice whisper. Several similar questions echoed around the Great Hall as the confusion spread like wildfire, until the last person Harry expected to make an announcement stood up.
The entirety of Gryffindor groaned as Professor Snape cleared his throat, casting an unreadable expression towards their table. Harry knew he was about to deduct points from Gryffindor for some mundane reason and hand the House Cup to Slytherin – his own house – on a silver platter.
"For demonstrating wit and cleverness not seen in a generation, in the face of mortal danger, I…" He paused, letting out a dejected sigh. "I begrudgingly award Hermione Granger of Gryffindor…one point."
Severus Snape could have launched into a furious string of swears and unholy curses at that moment and nobody would have cared, or noticed – the cheers were deafening. All of Gryffindor, all of Hufflepuff, and all of Ravenclaw were on their feet, clapping furiously and screaming out of unfettered joy: Slytherin had lost, Gryffindor had won, and it was all thanks to Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age.
At that very moment, said witch happened to be trying to curl up into a ball in shock, but Harry refused to let her do so. He leapt to his feet in glee, yanking Hermione out of her seat and hugging her like his life depended on it. After a few moments of the two first-years embracing in front of everybody, the duo was knocked to the ground by another ecstatic pair – the Weasley twins – in a fierce bear hug. Soon, nearly half of Gryffindor had piled on top of them in traditional Gryffindor ridiculousness, and despite the crushing weight of their peers, Harry and Hermione couldn't stop laughing.
Harry had never felt as giddy as he did when he saw Dumbledore clap his hands and the green and silver of Slytherin was replaced with Gryffindor's scarlet and gold all across the Great Hall. He looked back to see a towering banner over the staff table now adorned with a magnificent lion – not a serpent. He was certain this was the best night of his life – better than beating Slytherin in Quidditch, better than defeating the mountain troll. He got to share this incredible victory with all of his friends, especially Hermione. Although her eyes were shining with tears, he could tell she was beside herself with glee at what had transpired, and that she was having the best night of her life as well. The pair walked triumphantly back to the common room, led by a vanguard of rambunctious Gryffindors eager to throw an end of term bash like no other.
The days at Hogwarts flew by much too quickly for Harry Potter. Without the stress of exams or the Sorcerer's Stone, he spent much of his time roaming the grounds with Ron and Hermione, although Ron was opting to spend more time playing Wizard's Chess and Exploding Snap with other Gryffindors like Dean and Seamus.
Harry still made time for Ron, although whether it was just the two of them lounging about the common room or the trio strolling along the Great Lake, Harry could tell the redhead felt a bit out of place, but didn't press it. Harry found himself wondering if he should talk to Ron as he and Hermione sat in the sun, their backs against a tree as they admired the beauty of Hogwarts castle.
"I've written about you to my parents, you know." Hermione blurted, ripping Harry away from his train of thought.
"You…what?"
"Just in letters to my parents, I mentioned you. I wrote about meeting you on the Hogwarts Express, and when you made me feel better after the troll incident. Obviously I didn't tell them there was a troll, just that I was feeling down on Halloween and you were there for me. I even wrote that we'd been on our own little adventures in the Forest and the third floor, without giving very many details." She rambled, wringing her hands in her lap. Even Harry, who sometimes felt he had the intuition of a tree stump, could tell she was nervous.
"Hermione, is something wrong?" He asked, turning to his best friend. Her cheeks had tinged pink, and she was looking down at the grass they were sprawled out on.
"They want to meet you, even have you over for dinner a few times during the summer. They seem to be under the impression that you're a nice boy who's been a really good friend to their daughter." She smiled shyly, and Harry snorted.
"And who would have given them that impression?" He joked, intentionally ignoring the first part of what she'd said. He looked away but could feel her eyes on him. "Hermione, listen…" He sighed. He'd gone almost the entire school year without explicitly mentioning his home life with the Dursleys. Now, with his return home within spitting distance, he felt like it had become inevitable. Just as he awkwardly cleared his throat, Hermione spoke again.
"Harry, you don't have a very happy home life, do you?" She whispered, and Harry felt as if the air had been snatched out of his lungs. When he envisioned telling her that the Dursleys were unlikely to let him visit her, he imagined her face would be a look of shock, perhaps not even believing him. He mentally kicked himself for not anticipating Hermione's cleverness once again.
Now, here she was, ready to comfort him no matter what, even reaching her hand over to his. He sighed as their fingers intertwined, his head drooping involuntarily.
"How did you know?" Was all he could manage. Hermione slid closer to him and lifted her hand from his, opting to wrap her arm around his shoulders.
"Well" She started, and her voice was as shaky as his, "you never talk about going home, or what you miss about it. You chose to stay at the castle for the Christmas holidays before you even knew Ron was doing the same thing. You always get distant whenever Ron talks about his parents. You even do it when I talk about mine, and I barely mention them at all. And from how I've described you in my letters to my parents, they've started asking questions too. They're medical professionals, so they're well-trained in spotting these sorts of things." Harry felt her squeeze his shoulder and pull him in closer. It took every ounce of willpower he had to not break down. His eyes felt hot with tears, his throat aching with sobs he refused to let out.
'Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry,' Harry yelled to himself in his head, which only made things worse. He opened his mouth, but couldn't bring himself to speak, and he shook his head, disappointed in himself.
"Harry, that night, before we left the common room…" Hermione started, but he heard her hitch her breath. "That night, you said you weren't going to let anything happen to me. Let me return the favor. Please" She croaked, and Harry felt her trembling as he continued to stare at the grass beneath them.
That was it. Harry broke down the moment Hermione finished speaking. She pulled him close, letting him sob into her robes as he had let her done so many times before. Harry let every last bit of emotion come roaring out from within as he cried his shattered heart and soul into her shoulder. For what felt like the millionth time, he wanted to tell her everything – every last detail about the last ten years of his life. Crying in a cupboard, alone. Eating a fraction of the food a boy his age needed. All the abuse he'd received for as long as he could remember. He wanted nothing more than to tell her everything.
"I'm sorry, Hermione." He choked out before another round of sobs wracked his body. Hermione wordlessly squeezed him tighter.
The pair sat there for a long time. Harry was quickly able to subdue his crying, an instinct he had been forced to adapt at Privet Drive, but his eyes still burned, his throat still stung, and his cheeks hot from the few tears he allowed to fall. Worst of all, his heart ached, as if it had been shattered like glass. He knew he would be returning to the Dursleys in just a matter of days, but he wanted nothing more than to sit in the sun, in Hermione's arms.
'But I can't do that to her.' Harry realized silently. Letting out a shaky sigh, he pulled away and turned his eyes towards the castle.
"Harry, I'm going to write my parents a letter tonight." Hermione finally whispered. Harry shook his head.
"Hermione, I can't ask you to do that. I can't let you do that." He replied, holding his head in his hands miserably. Hermione wordlessly stood up and walked in front of Harry.
"I'm not asking for your permission, Harry Potter. I'm telling you that I'm writing a letter to my parents. Tonight." Harry shook his head again, lifting his eyes to meet Hermione's. Her gaze was sympathetic but firm, unflinching. "Like I told you, Harry, they're medical professionals. It's going to be alright, you just have to trust me. You trust me, don't you?"
Harry let out another sig.
"Hermione, it's not that I don't trust you, it's that I don't think you really ought to -"
"Like hell, Harry Potter!" Hermione yelled, stamping her foot. Harry's eyes widened in fear and he instinctively crawled backwards a few feet, feeling a primitive desperation to put as much space between himself and the girl in front of him.
Her eyes were darker than he'd ever seen them. He'd seen a frustrated Hermione, a distraught Hermione, a worried Hermione, but he had never seen her so angry like she was right now. She was breathing heavily now, her loud inhales and exhales the only sound he could hear on the eerily still Hogwarts grounds.
"Hermione, please – "
"You're not going back there, Harry." She cut him off in a much quieter tone, but it was still fierce enough for Harry to shut his mouth. "Look," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I'm sorry for yelling at you, Harry. You didn't deserve that, and I'm sorry." Harry nodded in silent acknowledgement, suddenly noticing he was trembling. "But right now, you're in more pain than anyone should have to bear in their lifetime, much less a child! Do you really think that if our positions were switched you wouldn't do everything in your power to help me?" She asked, slowly taking a knee so she could meet Harry's eyes.
Harry couldn't disagree with her there. He wasn't certain of many things, but he knew if something – or someone – tried to hurt Hermione, he'd do whatever it took to help her, to make her feel better. She meant too much to him.
'She's too good, too kind to have to go through something like that. To suffer.' He thought to himself.
'Maybe that's what she thinks of you…' The voice in his head offered. His heart jolted at such a thought, but he slowly realized it was the truth. He met Hermione's eyes, and they were lit with a ferocity that told him it was true. She cared about him too much to let him set foot in Little Whinging. He let himself be helped up to his feet, his legs feeling like jelly.
"Harry, can I borrow Hedwig? I have a letter I'd like to send to my parents."
He nodded silently, and the pair walked slowly towards the castle, hand in hand.
A/N: OK, feels time. Sorry about that. But, hey, Hermione's the brightest witch of her age. There's no way she couldn't tell Harry was hiding something from her about Privet Drive, right JK?
Anyway, I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. The last-second points for Harry and Hermione from all the different professors instead of just Dumbledore was my best recreation of the jersey scene from Rudy, which is one of my favorite sports movies of all time. I didn't even make the comparison when I first wrote this chapter, but once I saw it upon revising I couldn't un-see it. And, of course, Snape's gonna Snape.
Again, I cannot express my gratitude for those of you who have favorited, followed, or reviewed this. There are no words in the English language that describe how much it means to me, and I encourage anyone – if they like the story, of course – to add this work to their favorites, to drop a follow, to write even a short, simple review. Thank you all so much, and stay safe!
Chapter 8
Harry felt his body lurch forward, then settle back into his seat as the landscape outside of his window gradually began to move. He glanced over his shoulder to see Hogwarts castle inch out of sight, until the Hogwarts Express meandered away, towards Kings Cross train station.
The bespectacled wizard turned back towards his compartment. It was the same one he'd occupied in September, a lifetime ago. He was certain that Hermione had done it on purpose, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him to the front of the line of students boarding the scarlet train. He had stumbled along, dragging his trunk with Hedwig's cage perched precariously on top while Hermione ran as fast as she could. The pair had slipped into the compartment easily enough, storing their belongings on the overhead racks. Harry had been about to ask Hermione a flurry of questions before their compartment door had slid open. The duo whipped their heads around to see Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas hurry in, grinning. Seamus leaned his head out of the compartment and yelled something, and soon all eight first-year Gryffindors had crammed into the compartment.
The room was meant to seat eight, but the excited energy that flooded the compartment as Neville, Ron, Lavender, and Pavarti waltzed in made Harry feel cramped like a canned sardine. He quickly slid to the end of his bench, and Hermione moved from across from him to sit on his right almost instantly. As the train crept along, slowly but surely picking up speed, his classmates had launched into a range of eager conversations. Harry had been hoping for a peaceful ride back, but couldn't ignore how nice it felt to see that there were seven people who viewed him as a close enough friend share a compartment with him.
"Harry! Hey, Earth to Harry!" A voice called, and Harry lifted his head. Seamus Finnegan was grinning and holding a few cards out to him. "Fancy one last game of Exploding Snap?" Harry nodded, gingerly grabbing the cards. He quickly joined the rest of the boys in the game, with all kinds of excited shouts and laughter ringing throughout the compartment.
After his last card – a Manticore – spontaneously combusted, Harry couldn't help but grin sheepishly and laugh along with his friends. He leaned back in his seat, in a significantly better mood than when he'd boarded the train. He glanced to his right to ask Hermione how she was feeling, but she was laser-focused on a book in her lap.
"What are you reading?"
She turned her head, jumping slightly. Harry wondered to himself how she could be so focused on reading amongst the rambunctiousness that their compartment had become. She smiled, lifting the book to reveal the cover: Saucy Tricks for Tricky Sorts.
"Harnessing your inner prankster?" Harry laughed, and Hermione shrugged.
"Just a bit of light reading. You never know when you might need to use the…" She glanced at the page she was reading. "Tickling Charm?" She offered sheepishly. Harry snorted and Hermione stifled a giggle of her own.
"Well, I'm very much looking forward to using the Tickling Charm next time Malfoy tries to challenge me to a duel. I'm sure it'll work wonders against whatever he tries," Harry laughed, and Hermione squeaked in embarrassment. The two turned back to their friends, who were enveloped in swapping Chocolate Frog cards amongst themselves.
"Harry! You want this one? Heard he came to visit you in the Hospital Wing, after all!" Dean Thomas called out, lobbing a card in Harry's direction. Harry snatched it out of the air, earning some sarcastic ooohs from his peers at his Quidditch skills. Harry turned the card over, and felt his stomach plummet at the sight of Albus Dumbledore.
Harry had gotten Dumbledore's card a dozen times by now, and each time the Headmaster's blue eyes were twinkling almost mischievously, a small smile on his face. This time, Harry saw a glare icy enough to freeze an ocean. He glanced uneasily at Hermione, who had gone back to reading her book on bizarre spells.
He sighed, closing his eyes as he recalled the series of fortunate and unfortunate events that had occurred over the last few days.
After their emotional conversation on the Hogwarts grounds, Hermione had dragged Harry through the castle with a fierce determination, the setting sun illuminating the corridors in a pleasant orange glow. The pair reached the portrait hole, and Hermione spat out the password so fast the Fat Lady said "Gesundheit!" before letting them in, clearly upset they didn't find her joke funny.
Harry let Hermione usher him over to their usual couch as she whipped out a roll of parchment and a quill. She leaned over the table and scribbled furiously, occasionally glancing at her best friend. Harry flashed her a small smile every time, feeling his mood lift gradually as Hermione's handwriting slowly filled the letter.
Even as his heart soared, Harry felt guilt welling up in his stomach. Hermione's parents – from the limited information he'd gathered from her – were perfectly nice, normal people. He'd spent ten years being an unwanted burden on two parents and their only child, and even the prospect of spending the summer with another family and being a walking inconvenience was nerve-wracking.
'I've never even met them…' he thought dejectedly to himself. He felt his palms sweat and urgently wiped them on his trousers, earning a worried glance from Hermione.
"Harry, please stop fretting." She urged. He nodded unenthusiastically and she threw down her quill, turning to face him. "Harry, this is a good thing. A great thing. You don't have to go back there. You'll get to spend the summer holidays with my parents and me. You're going to love them – they already love you from what I've told them!"
"They haven't even agreed yet…" Harry muttered.
"They will. Trust me, Harry."
Harry offered the best smile he could manage, but he couldn't hide his nervousness. Hermione sighed, then turned back to the table. Gingerly folding her parchment and placing it into an envelope, she stood up and held her hand out. Harry let out a sigh before allowing her to pull him to his feet.
"Hermione – oh!" He blurted as she threw her arms around him.
"Harry, everything is going to be alright." She whispered into his shoulder. Harry nodded, squeezing her back. The longer he stood in her arms, the more he felt his nervousness melt away. He inhaled, catching the scent of vanilla on her, and he smiled. A real smile. He stepped away from Hermione and met her eyes.
"Thank you, Hermione."
With that, the two marched out of the common room and towards the Owlery, Hermione clutching the letter in one hand and Harry's hand in the other.
"Hedwig really is an incredible creature, you know that Harry?" Hermione mused as a familiar snowy white owl fluttered into the Great Hall at breakfast the next day. "I suspect she's the only owl at Hogwarts who could go from here to my house and back in just one night!" Hedwig hooted quietly, her eyes lighting up as she nuzzled Hermione's hand.
"Keep up that flattery and she'll be going home with you no matter what that letter says." Harry muttered with a smile. Hermione quickly removed the letter tied to Hedwig's leg and ripped it open. Harry watched her eyes dart from left to right as she moved from line to line.
Harry felt his heart race as she kept reading. He tried to find something around him to be interested in, but he and Hermione were two of only a few students in the Great Hall. It was quite early, and considering there was no schoolwork to be done most of their friends were opting to sleep in as late as they pleased. Harry tried to focus on the stack of toast in front of him, but kept glancing back at his best friend.
"Harry, this is – "
"Mister Potter, Miss Granger." A stern voice spoke behind them, causing them both to jump. The two students turned around to see Professor McGonagall standing behind them, her lips pressed tightly together like always.
"Professor, is something wrong?" Harry asked.
"The Headmaster has asked to speak with the two of you in his office immediately." She responded curtly. Harry looked to the staff table and saw that Dumbledore's chair was uncharacteristically empty. "And he says you'd be wise to bring any Sugar Quills you might have." She added with a sigh. The two students nodded, then turned to each other. Harry was about to speak when they saw their head of house was still standing behind them.
"Professor?"
"I'd start walking now, Potter." She said, her eyes darkening with what appeared to be genuine concern. He nodded and pulled Hermione to her feet, and the pair hurried out of the Great Hall. Once they were out of sight of their peers, they began sprinting up the various staircases of Hogwarts, practically careening around corridors.
"Do you think we're in trouble?" Hermione gasped as they reached the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office. Harry was too winded to speak right away, but just as he did Hermione groaned. "We should have grabbed some!" She lamented as her friend looked at her quizzically.
"Some what?"
"Sugar Quills! We forgot to –"
Suddenly, the gargoyle leapt aside, and the pair shared an amused look before taking the staircase to Dumbledore's study. Harry felt his heart hammering in his ribcage, but not from sprinting halfway around the castle. Gingerly stepping through the open door, the duo saw their Headmaster sitting pensively at his desk, drumming his fingers on the arms of his wooden chair.
"Professor, I know we've caused some headaches throughout this school year, but we really haven't done anything if – " Harry sputtered, but Dumbledore cut him off by lifting a hand.
"Harry, the two of you are not in trouble." He said calmly, his eyes flickering between the two behind his half-moon spectacles.
'Oh, well that makes you feel loads better, doesn't it?' Harry's inner voice mocked as the Headmaster stood up.
"Harry. Since you've been made aware of your true heritage, as a Wizard, did you ever wonder why you lived with the Dursleys for the last ten years?" Dumbledore asked. There was no emotion in his words, as if the question had been uttered by a brick wall.
"They're the only family I've got left, right?" Harry half asked, half answered. Dumbledore nodded, walking around the edge of his desk very slowly.
"It is true, the last of your blood family is your Aunt Petunia Dursley. But do you truly believe there weren't others willing to take you in? Friends of your parents, friends of mine, even your friend Hagrid implored me to let him take you with him the night you arrived at Privet Drive ten years ago." Dumbledore sighed as he sat on the front edge of his desk, never taking his eyes off of Harry.
"Are you saying he could have lived somewhere else?" Hermione asked in a tense voice, her hands clenched into fists.
The elderly Wizard sighed again, but nodded. His eyes remained locked onto Harry's as he spoke again: "Yes, Miss Granger. It was possible, but not without subjecting Harry to great risk. I understand that those words may seem cruel to you, Harry, and for that I truly am sorry. And Miss Granger, even a casual observer can see that you care about Harry's well-being a great deal. I have no doubts that these words may sting for you as well."
Hermione made a strangled cry in her throat. Harry didn't even know how to react, his mind racing to try and unpack what his Headmaster had just told him.
"It was agonizing to leave you with the Dursleys, believe me, but doing so was in your best interest." Harry flinched at that sentence. "Living with the Dursleys, with your aunt, offered you a protection strong enough to ward off even the most sinister of enemies. Your aunt's blood runs the same as your mother's – the woman whose sacrifice kept you alive a decade ago when Lord Voldemort tried to kill you. It is an ancient magic that not even the most powerful of wizards can overcome, and that includes Lord Voldemort. Remaining close to your aunt offers you a fortification similar to your mother's protection against those who would wish you harm." Dumbledore continued. He slid off of his desk with a sigh and went back to his chair. Harry felt as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest and launched off the Astronomy Tower.
"Why are you telling me this now?" Harry managed, his face heating up.
"Because, my dear boy, that letter in your friend's hand reads that Miss Granger's parents have agreed to host you for the summer, until school resumes on the First of September. Is that correct, Miss Granger?"
"How did you – "
"I don't need a cloak to become invisible." He answered in a cryptic voice. "Am I correct, Miss Granger?" He repeated.
Hermione managed a small nod, but her eyes were still a deadly dark brown – the same shade they'd been yesterday when Harry confirmed her suspicions about the Dursleys, when she'd looked angry. He felt his heart soar with excitement, and he barely managed to subdue his grin. Hermione managed to stop glaring at Dumbledore and turned to Harry with a warm smile, her eyes immediately lighting up. She handed him the letter, but before Harry could read one word Dumbledore spoke again.
"I will not outright stop you, let me be clear. I would be lying if I told you that the guilt that I carry around for leaving young Harry in Little Whinging is nearly unbearable for me. I simply felt that it was best for you both to be aware of the risks that will come with Harry spending his holidays somewhere other than with his relatives."
Harry and Hermione turned to each other, confused. Harry wasn't sure how to feel – should he be angry? Upset? His eyes darted between Hermione and Dumbledore, hoping one of them would speak first to clarify what the Headmaster meant.
"What exactly are you trying to say?" Hermione asked. Dumbledore let out a pained sigh.
"It means," He said, "that this decision could be putting you and your family at risk, Miss Granger. Protections can be offered, but nothing as strong as those offered by Harry's aunt."
Hermione was glaring at Dumbledore with a glare that was completely and utterly frigid, enough to send shivers down Harry's spine. Harry opened his mouth to speak, mostly hoping to stop the most unnerving staring contest he'd ever witnessed, but Hermione beat him to it.
"So you, or someone else, can place some sort of protections on my house?"
"Yes," the old man sighed, "but I once again am asking you to consider the potential consequences of this decision. I strongly urge you to – "
"Duly noted." Even Harry flinched at Hermione's sharp tone. "Have a good holiday, Professor." She added curtly before grabbing Harry by the arm and dragging him to the door. He turned his head just before the door closed to see Dumbledore looking down at the floor of his office.
Harry quickly turned the Chocolate Frog card over, desperate to put that conversation out of his mind. He ran a hand through his hair as he stifled a yawn, slowly returning to the present day. All eight of his classmates were still in the compartment, but it was much quieter now – much to Harry's delight. Seamus and Dean were debating Quidditch versus football, Neville was snoring, Ron was flipping through some Chocolate Frog cards, and Lavender and Pavarti were quietly discussing…something. Harry suddenly found it very difficult to focus on their hushed conversation when he noticed the weight on his right side.
He turned to look, only for his mouth and nose to be swallowed by a mane of bushy brown hair. He quickly turned back, fighting the urge to snort, as he saw that Hermione had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Harry smiled to himself and remained very still, moving only to close the open book that lay in his best friend's lap.
He sat in a content silence for the better part of an hour as the landscape that whisked by. Every few minutes Hermione would make a small noise in her throat as she dozed, eliciting a smile from the boy wizard. As mountains, rivers, farms, and villages flew in and out of sight as Harry gazed out the window, he suddenly remembered a line from their conversation with Dumbledore, and his heart slowed to a near standstill. After a few moments of an intense internal debate between letting his friend sleep and having a very important conversation, he gently shrugged his shoulder.
Hermione's lips – parted slightly for the duration of her snooze – closed as she curled them into a shy smile as her eyes fluttered open to meet Harry's. She scrunched her nose a bit and rubbed her neck as she sat up straight.
"Good morning." Harry smirked as Hermione yawned.
"Are we close?" She asked, glancing out the window.
"No idea," he answered, his palms starting to sweat, "but there's something I need to ask you."
"What's wrong?" It was a perfectly casual tone, but he felt her tense up beside him. He let out a shaky breath before he spoke.
"Do you…do you think Dumbledore had a point? About me putting you and your family in danger?" He managed, averting his eyes. He heard Hermione's breath hitch, and an uncomfortable silence enveloped them.
"Honestly, Harry, that's a contender for the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say." Hermione finally said, turning to him. Harry gaped, anticipating a much different reaction. She smirked and shook her head as if disappointed in him. "How many times could I have ditched you this year because it was too dangerous? How many?" She asked, nudging him with her elbow.
"Too many. But this is – "
"Harry Potter, if you tell me that this is different, I'm going to throw you out the window." Harry threw up his hands in surrender, cracking a smile at his friend's threat. "It's a risk worth taking. For you." She added for good measure, and Harry felt his heart rate quicken. The two shared a smile before turning back to their friends, who'd been trading snacks and candies for the duration of their conversation.
A half-hour later, the Hogwarts Express was pulling into King's Cross Station. One by one, the Gryffindor crew departed from their compartment, with everyone wishing each other a good holiday and everyone promising to write to one another. Harry and Hermione waited until the other six had exited before grabbing their belongings and disembarking from the train.
Harry and Hermione waited until each of their friends had left the compartment before disembarking with their belongings. The latter dragged the former straight to the muggle exit. Once they stepped through the brick wall, Hermione surveyed the area for her parents, while Harry tried to not draw attention to himself and Hedwig, who was hooting softly.
"Harry, do you see them?" Hermione asked, her eyes darting all around the platform.
"Hermione, I don't even know what your parents look like, how could I – "
"Oh, hush!" She hissed. Harry shrugged, scanning their surroundings. Now that he was on the platform, moments away from meeting Hermione's parents, he felt his nerves return and suddenly it was very difficult to stand upright. His legs wobbled uncertainly and he felt his stomach turning somersaults. He took in a few shaky breaths and tried to calm himself down.
'They're Hermione's parents. They raised Hermione! How bad can they be if they raised a daughter like Hermione?' He thought to himself, and gradually he steadied himself.
Of course, Harry had additional worries. Not only were these strangers taking him in, but they were also taking him in to spend the summer with their daughter. He'd caught glimpses of movies and TV shows at the Dursleys where parents – especially the father – were rather hostile towards the young men that their daughter spent time with. The boy wizard shuddered at the thought of giving Hermione's parents the wrong impression.
"Mum! Dad!" Hermione suddenly cried out. Harry gulped and quickly looked to where she was waving. A man and a woman were approaching them with grins plastered on their faces. Hermione suddenly raced forward and threw her arms around both of them.
Harry watched, feeling a bit awkward, as her parents reciprocated the hug. Each leaned in to give Hermione a kiss on the cheek, and Harry found himself averting his eyes absentmindedly. He managed a smile as Hermione turned back to him and dragged her parents over to him.
"You must be Harry!" Hermione's mother beamed, and Harry nodded sheepishly. The woman suddenly leaned in and wrapped him up in a hug, much to Harry's shock. He felt his nervous system practically short-circuit, and he stiffened in surprise, dropping Hedwig's cage – much to the owl's vexation. Hermione's mother quickly pulled away, her smile replaced with a look of genuine concern. "Oh dear…" she whispered to herself, but Harry just barely heard her.
"Well, sweetheart, aren't you going to introduce us before your mother sends the man running?" Hermione's father grinned, and both Hermione and her mother blushed.
"Harry, these are my parents. Mum, Dad, this is Harry Potter." She said matter-of-factly. Harry managed to pull himself together enough to recite the line he'd mentally practiced for the last half-hour on the train.
"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Granger," he said, extending his hand. Hermione's father smiled in surprise and shook it. Harry turned to his wife. "Mrs. Granger." He said, and the woman smiled once again.
"Call me Jean, Harry." She offered.
"I'm Dan, but keep calling me Mr. Granger." Hermione's father said with a wink, and the four of them broke into laughter at that, even Harry, who felt his nervousness slowly ebbing away.
"Well, we're so glad to finally meet you. Hermione's been telling us all about you for the past ten months in all her letters." Jean winked at her daughter.
"Mum!" Hermione gasped, her cheeks flushing as her parents smirked.
"Well, I suppose we ought to get out of here before traffic gets too bad. May I, Harry?" Mr. Granger asked politely, leaning down to grab Harry's trunk.
"Oh, that's alright sir, I can manage." Harry stammered, quickly picking up his trunk. Mr. Granger stepped back a bit but shook his head.
"Harry, it's the least I can do. How about you carry that nice owl of yours?" He insisted. Harry looked into his eyes, 'Hermione's eyes' he thought to himself, and saw that they were genuine. Harry managed a nod, and Mr. Granger flashed him a meaningful smile. "This way I don't have to carry Hermione's – she's got an entire library in there." He whispered with a wink, and Harry couldn't help but grin.
If Harry had any doubts that the Grangers were nice people, they had vanished entirely as the four of them made their way across the platform. Harry picked up Hedwig's cage in one hand and felt a familiar warmth slip into his other hand. He turned to see a beaming Hermione, and the pair followed her parents to the exit, sporting giant smiles.
All was well.
A/N: Hi everyone! I know I usually post chapters earlier in the day, but I had a ton of schoolwork (and actual work at my job) so I ran into some unexpected delays. That said, this chapter was almost entirely written sprint-style. I figured a chapter like this should be written from the heart, so that's what I did to the best of my ability.
Harry is going to have a happy summer! Yay! Dumbledore was honest but not a manipulative prick! Yay! The Grangers are nice! Yay! Hopefully you guys smiled while reading this chapter as much as I did while writing it. I have a totally free schedule tomorrow, so expect an update earlier in the day than this one.
Once again, I cannot thank my reviewers, followers, and favorite-rs enough for doing what they do. All of your kind words mean the world to me, I'm so glad I created something to make your day just a little bit better. That's what it's all about! Please do drop a review/follow/fave if you are enjoying this story, and more than anything: Stay safe!
Chapter 9
After depositing all of their belongings in the back, Harry and Hermione clambered into the backseat of Mr. Granger's white Jaguar XE while the adults climbed into the front.
"So, Harry, Hermione told us you guys met on the train?" Mrs. Granger asked as she fastened her seatbelt.
"Yes, we did." He answered quickly, not used to adults asking him questions. Sensing Mrs. Granger wanted a better story, he grinned as he remembered their first encounter. "She poked her head into my compartment because she saw me reading one of her favorite books. Of course, she ended up ripping it out of my hands and reading it out loud to me once she sat down…" He grinned, and both of Hermione's parents began laughing hysterically at that, and Harry joined in too. He turned to Hermione, who was blushing profusely. Harry thought she looked like she was trying very hard not to smile, despite the corners of her mouth slowly curling upwards.
"You make me sound like a lunatic, Harry…" She squeaked. Harry shrugged playfully, which earned him a swat on the arm from Hermione and more laughter from her parents.
"Well, that certainly sounds like our girl!" Mr. Granger wheezed as he pulled out of the parking lot. "Even before she got her letter she always loved reading, but she spent entire days reading all about magic up until she got on that train."
"That's not surprising. Your daughter's the smartest in our year by miles, you know." Harry responded. He turned to see Hermione beaming at him, but her cheeks had somehow turned even redder.
"Awfully kind words, Harry." Mr. Granger said, his tone turning deadly serious as he locked eyes with the bespectacled wizard through the rearview mirror. Harry felt his throat close up, suddenly remembering all those movies with overprotective fathers, when Hermione's mother threw her husband an elbow.
"He's teasing, Harry, relax." She smirked, turning to the backseat. Harry felt his panic subside. Mr. Granger even threw him a wink in the mirror and Harry let out a sigh of relief. "Hermione tells us you're not such a bad student yourself!"
It was Harry's turn to blush. He'd been ecstatic to see his final exam results, discovering that not only had he passed every class, but he'd cracked the top ten in his year.
"Well, I had a bit of help…" Harry stammered, looking at Hermione, who was still smiling giddily at him.
"Harry and I got the two highest exam scores Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Transfiguration!" She rambled with glee, and Harry felt his face get even hotter. "He really is brilliant. I keep telling him he's a great wizard and he always gets flustered. See, look!" She grinned.
Harry had slumped into his seat in embarrassment, which only made the Grangers laugh. He still couldn't help but grin, and eventually he joined in the chorus of laughter. Eventually it died down, and Hermione's mother spoke again.
"So, Harry, Hermione told us you were in the Hospital Wing for three days in her last letter, but she didn't tell us why. My husband thinks you got in a fight, but I like to think you were protecting Hermione from some bizarre magical creature. Which of us is right?" She asked. Her tone was authentic and pleasant, and she was even smiling, but that didn't stop Harry's stomach from plummeting in fear.
"Ah, well…actually…" He stammered, feeling his palms start to sweat. "It's a bit…well…" He trailed off, his mind going completely blank.
"Well, if Harry won't tell you," Hermione huffed, turning to face her mother, "He got hit in the head while playing Quidditch. You remember me writing to you about Quidditch, right? The main sport at Hogwarts, on broomsticks?" She continued, shooting Harry a sly smirk. Harry gave his friend the most appreciative look he could muster. Hermione's parents nodded at her daughter's response, and the conversation flowed once again.
Mr. Granger in particular was fascinated by Quidditch, asking Harry about what being a Seeker entailed. The dentist explained that he'd played rugby as a teenager, and his position – wing – had a similar skillset to Seeker. The two eagerly conversed about their respective sports, with Harry knowing next to nothing regarding rugby while Mr. Granger knew only what Hermione wrote home on Quidditch.
"See, from what Hermione's told us, Quidditch is a brutal and dangerous sport and she isn't a fan of you playing it. She made it sound like a bloodbath!" Hermione groaned in embarrassment as her father recounted her letters. "Your description sounds much more fun!" He laughed.
"Ah, well, I suppose Hermione's a tad bitter towards Quidditch since she can't fly very well." Harry grinned, earning another swat on the arm from his best friend.
"It's not that!" She exclaimed as Harry snickered along with her parents. "I just worry about you zooming around at a hundred kilometers an hour, that's all." She added sheepishly. Harry felt his cheeks warm slightly, and he saw Hermione's parents glance at each other with unreadable expressions.
Hermione's parents continued to ask the pair all kinds of questions. Hermione stepped in for most of them, much to Harry's delight, since it was difficult to be honest with the Grangers without revealing that they'd spent a good portion of their school year being in mortal danger. Harry was nervous enough around the two adults, and he didn't want to exacerbate his unease by lying to them.
As the four of them continued their pleasant banter, Mr. Granger exited the highway, and Harry gathered from the signs they passed that they had entered Crawley.
"Well, it is getting a bit late, and it'll almost be time for dinner by the time we get there I suppose. Any requests, you too?" Mrs. Granger asked. Hermione turned to Harry expectantly, and Harry suddenly found his shoes to be the most fascinating things on the planet.
"Oh, well – erm, I'll eat anything, I suppose." He mumbled quietly. Hermione flinched at his sudden change in demeanor, and her mother instinctively put a hand over her heart, unseen by Harry. An uncomfortable silence ensued and Harry found himself considering the benefits of jumping out of the moving car.
"Harry, Hermione, when was the last time either of you had pizza?" Mr. Granger suddenly piped up. The pair turned to each other, and Hermione gave him an encouraging nod. He nodded back, letting out a shaky exhale.
"I think it's been too long. For both of us!" Hermione smiled, and Harry managed a weak nod. The two adults shared a satisfied look and they continued driving until they turned into a wide driveway.
Harry couldn't contain his awe at the Granger residence, much to the surprise of Hermione's parents. He leapt out of the car and stared up at the home. It wasn't the most glamorous residence the world had to offer, but after growing up in the cookie-cutter neighborhood of Privet Drive, the colonial that stood in front of him was his version of the Pyramids.
"You have a beautiful house!" Harry blurted, and Mrs. Granger moved next to him gently patted him on the shoulder.
"Hermione was right…" She mused, and Harry turned to her quizzically. "You're a very sweet boy."
Harry found himself blushing once again, and hurriedly picked up his belongings. He let Hermione lead him into the house, and Mrs. Granger watched them go with a blissful smile. Hermione, meanwhile, beckoned Harry up the staircase once they were inside, and dashed down the hallway to open one of two doors at the end. Harry followed her in and stopped in surprise.
The room was immaculate, with the largest bed Harry had ever seen made perfectly. Harry gingerly laid his belongings down on the floor next to it and ran his hands over the blanket. He picked up one of the four ('Four!' he thought excitedly) pillows absent-mindedly as he looked around the rest of the room. A tidy wooden desk stood against the wall opposite the bed, with a tightly-packed but highly organized bookshelf next to it. He glanced out the window, admiring the view of the Grangers' well-kept backyard in the light of the setting sun. He turned to Hermione, who was beaming at him. Harry suddenly dropped the pillow.
"Sorry, I shouldn't – erm, I mean – sorry for touching your stuff." He stammered as he realized he was probably in Hermione's room.
'It's the nicest room you've ever seen, you git, of course it'd be Hermione's room.' He thought to himself abashedly. 'The bookshelf, the desk, it's perfectly organized. Get your head in the game, Potter!'
"Where am I sleeping?" He managed, his tone reflecting his shame.
THUD
"Why did you drop your – "
WHOMP
"Blimey, Hermione!" Harry sputtered as his best friend flew over to him in a blur, her trunk discarded on the ground in favor of wrapping her arms around him. He gently hugged her back, feeling the warmth he always got when Hermione hugged him permeating his entire body. He suddenly noticed her trembling and squeezed harder, realizing she was crying.
"Harry, this is your room!" She sobbed into his shoulder, shaking her head in frustration. "This is where you're sleeping!" She moaned, unable to subdue her tears. Harry felt his heart slow as he took in his surroundings. He was sleeping in this room? For an entire summer? If his best friend hadn't burst into tears, he would have been certain that this was all too good to be true. He tightened his arms around Hermione in a wordless expression of gratitude, feeling slightly teary-eyed himself.
He felt Hermione take a deep breath before she slowly stepped back, keeping her hands on Harry's shoulders. Harry gave her a grateful smile, and Hermione reciprocated it before wiping her eyes.
"Should we – "
"Yeah, let's go downstairs." Hermione blurted, quickly marching out of the room. Harry followed, and the two met Hermione's parents in the living room.
"Hello, you two. Harry, I assume Hermione showed you your room?" Mrs. Granger asked without looking up from a book she was reading. Harry nodded, joining Hermione on a sofa across from the two armchairs currently occupied by the adults.
"It's really nice." Harry half-whispered, eliciting a sad smile from Hermione's mother.
"Perfect. Jean, would you be willing to go grab the pizzas? I'll set the table and tidy up the kitchen." Mr. Granger offered, standing. Mrs. Granger set her book down and stood excitedly.
"Of course. I'll probably need some help. Harry, would you mind joining me?" She asked. Harry stiffened, glancing worriedly at Hermione. "Relax, dear, it's barely a ten-minute drive." Harry sighed shakily and stood up, nodding uncertainly. "Oh, perfect. Dan, dear, we'll see you in a bit. Bye, Hermione, love you dear!" She called out as she led Harry to the front door.
The two walked out to the white sedan, and Mrs. Granger stifled a giggle as Harry tried to enter the backseat.
"Harry, sweetheart, sit up front." She smiled, and Harry – somewhat reluctantly – closed the back door and clambered into the passenger seat with a mumbled apology. Mrs. Granger started up the car but didn't back out. Instead she turned to Harry, who was gazing down at the ground. "Harry?" She asked.
"Yes, Mrs. Granger?" He answered meekly, barely meeting her eyes.
"Harry, please call me Jean."
"S-sorry Mrs. Gr – Jean. Sorry. Jean." He stammered, and his eyes went back to the floor.
"Harry, if you apologize to me one more time I'm going to throw you out the window…" She smirked to herself. She couldn't hide her surprise when Harry chuckled softly. "Oh, that one made you laugh?"
"It's just," Harry smiled wistfully, "Hermione's made a similar threat once or twice. Maybe more. It's not hard to tell she's your daughter." He continued, remembering earlier that day Hermione making the same threat on the Hogwarts Express.
"Well, I'm certainly glad she hasn't acted on those threats. Yet." She added with a sly smile. "Even though you've been scared to death of me and my husband you've been a delight to have around thus far."
Harry managed a small smile, but felt a guilty knot form in his stomach at the mention of his blatant nervousness.
"Thank you again," he finally managed, "for having me for the summer holiday. I don't know if you had plans, and I'm sorry if I've been an inconvenience if you did, and I – "
"Harry, please." The dentist interjected, her tone still warm enough for Harry to feel his guilt gradually subside. "You are not an inconvenience, and the sooner you get that out of your head, the better." Harry nodded weakly. "You're spending the summer with us, and Dan and I couldn't be more excited about it. Really. Although you do have a bit of a reputation to live up to according to my daughter's letters!" She laughed as she shifted the car into reverse. Harry felt his face heat up as he let out a quiet laugh.
"Well, I'll do my best." He said, feeling a smile creep across his face. Mrs. Granger smiled in satisfaction as she pulled out of the driveway and began their drive. "What does Hermione have to say about me, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Oh dear, what doesn't she have to say…" she mused, flashing Harry another smile. "She spent half of her first letter talking about how you complimented her teeth when you first met, which I thought was just adorable." Harry blushed, remembering how that encounter had unfolded. "She wrote a lot about how you hugged her on Halloween after someone hurt her feelings, she wrote about how you're a terrific flyer, let's see, what else…"
"Oh, I think I get the picture." Harry muttered as his cheeks did their best impression of Gryffindor scarlet. Mrs. Granger just laughed again, prompting Harry to bury his face in his hands.
"Don't be embarrassed, sweetheart. When we're having dinner we'll ask all about Hermione and you can embarrass her all you want." She offered, gently patting him on the shoulder. "In all seriousness, Harry, you mean the world to her. And I can see why."
Harry felt the hand on his shoulder, but didn't recoil like usual. Instead, he felt a warmth flow from his shoulder to the rest of his body. Harry gingerly lifted his head and nodded, giving Mrs. Granger a small smile.
"Thank you. For everything." He said quietly. The two sat in a much more comfortable silence before the dentist launched into another series of questions – mostly about studies at Hogwarts. Harry was quickly figuring out where Hermione's studious side came from as he explained his favorite spells and more.
Eventually they pulled into their destination, and Mrs. Granger explained that it was Hermione's favorite pizza parlor in town. Harry fought the urge to snort as he tried to imagine his bushy-haired friend stuffing her face like Dudley Dursley did every time he had pizza.
Soon enough, the two of them were marching out of the restaurant with multiple boxes in hand, each sporting giant grins. They quickly hopped into the car, and Harry found the smell nearly intoxicating as they made their way home.
"I'll give you a fiver if you yell 'Honey, I'm home!' when you walk in." The dentist whispered to Harry as they walked to the front door. Harry gave her a perplexed look. "Just do it." She added with a wink. Harry shrugged and waltzed into the front door.
"Honey, I'm home!" He called out, cracking a smile as Mrs. Granger broke into a fit of giggles.
"What?" A half-confused, half-indignant voice rang out from the kitchen. Harry's stomach plummeted in fear as he heard heavy footsteps stomped towards him. Hermione's father stormed in, furiously dying his hands on a dish towel. "What did you call her?" He repeated, locking eyes with a now petrified Harry. He turned to his wife, who was now doubled over in laughter. "Oh…you put him up to this didn't you?" He sighed. "Of course you did. Sorry, Harry, my wife gets very mischievous from time to time. Jean, I can't believe you let me terrify the poor boy like this. I'm sorry, Harry."
"I'm okay." Harry stammered out, but he managed a laugh as Mr. Granger playfully whipped the towel at his wife.
"Come on in, Harry, let's eat." Mrs. Granger smiled, strolling towards the kitchen. "He's a bit overprotective of Hermione, but I just think it's adorable." She whispered playfully as she walked past Harry.
The three of them met Hermione in the kitchen, who was just finishing setting the table. The four quickly sat down and didn't hesitate to dig in. Harry quickly fell in love with pizza, and although he enjoyed just about every topping he tried, he found plain to be his pie of choice.
Mrs. Granger lived up to her promise, and soon Harry laughed along with the adults as they swapped embarrassing stories about Hermione, much to her chagrin. The dinner rivaled Hogwarts's greatest feasts in Harry's book, as he ate until he feared his legs wouldn't support his sudden weight increase.
"Well, we did quite a number, didn't we?" Mr. Granger smirked at the pile of empty pizza boxes.
"Why don't the two of you head up for bed? You've had quite the day, haven't you?" Mrs. Granger asked, standing up to clear the table.
"Oh, I can help cleaning up if you need it!" Harry brightened, quickly corralling the Grangers' dishes. The adults tried to hide their surprise at his offer.
"Harry that's quite alright, you don't have to – "
"Please, it's the least I can do." He insisted, his voice more confident than it had been all day. The Grangers relented, and Hermione volunteered to help as well, and soon the four of them were cheerfully washing dishes and wiping down surfaces as a well-oiled machine.
"I wish you two had met sooner, this might have been the easiest cleaning endeavor we've ever gone through!" Mr. Granger laughed as the children made their way upstairs. Harry blushed and offered a quiet thanks before Hermione dragged him all the way upstairs.
"Good night, Harry!" She grinned as she wrapped him up in a hug outside his bedroom door.
"Good night, Hermione." He sighed contentedly, gingerly resting his head on her mane of bushy brown hair. "Thank you."
She pulled back with an even wider smile on her face, and before Harry could walk into his new bedroom, she hopped up and pecked him on the cheek once again.
"Hermione!" He cried out in surprise, bringing a hand to his now burning cheek. His best friend gave a shy smile as she strolled into her room, her cheeks turning redder by the second. Harry let out a content sigh, watching the door next to his close gently. He grinned to himself, shaking his head as he thought about how much he had enjoyed his first day with the Grangers.
"What kind of day has it been…" he muttered to himself as he turned and walked into his room, still smiling.
A/N: Howdy, everyone. Day one of a summer with the Grangers is in the books! You may have noticed I suddenly decided to name all the chapters, mostly because I re-watched one of my favorite episodes of Aaron Sorkin's The West Wing and couldn't resist the urge to throw in the What Kind of Day Has it Been reference. Expect named chapters in the future. Sorry if it seemed random, but hey, it's my story! *shrugs*
Hopefully you all enjoyed this chapter. Hermione's parents are there for Harry! He was nervous but he's starting to feel at ease! Harry will have a good summer, damnit! Who knows how this changes the events of Harry and Hermione's second year?