Chapter 14- Letters.

Thursday, July 6, 1995

Hermione Granger sat at the desk in her room, working on her Charm essay. She smiled as she thought of Harry and Ron, and their likely reactions to her current activity. Harry would probably raise an eyebrow at her, maybe even roll his eyes, before smiling and shaking his head in gentle exasperation. Ron, the more vocal of the two, would probably natter on nonstop about how this was the summer holidays, and she was "mental" for doing homework already.

Hermione wrinkled her nose in annoyance. Didn't those two know that it was better to get the work out of the way early, while the information was still fresh?

Deciding it was time for a break, the girl stood and stretched, arching her back, and raising her arms above her head. Next term at Hogwarts they would be taking their O.W.L.s - Ordinary Wizarding Levels. Perhaps she should start looking over her old materials now.

Hermione frowned a little and twisted her mouth to one side. She wondered if she could convince Ron and Harry to do the same. Her best friends were not stupid, not at all, but both of them did tend to procrastinate so! She had lost track over the years of how many times she had sat up late with them in the Gryffindor Common Room while they rushed to finish one thing or another.

Assignments, she might add, that they would have had plenty of time to finish if they'd just started at a reasonable time. It really was amazing their marks were as good as they were.

Dismissing the matter for now, Hermione walked over to her window and looked out, admiring her mother's neat garden. She loved attending Hogwarts, and she was very glad that she was learning magic, but it felt absolutely glorious to be home for a while. Things felt relaxed and normal-she could almost forget the threat of You-Know-Who.

Smiling for no reason in particular, and feeling very lucky indeed, Hermione sighed contentedly. Her parents always showered her with love and attention during the summer. They went on lovely trips and adventures-her father was taking her on an outing tomorrow-and, on the whole, her parents had learned to take the whole magic issue in stride. Well, mostly, anyway.

They hadn't been very keen on her traveling to Bulgaria alone, the young witch reflected with a wry smile, but instead of laying down an ultimatum, they had offered a compromise. If she wanted to take Victor Krum up on his invitation to visit she could, but one or both of them would accompany her. Bulgaria could be their vacation destination this year if she so chose.

Hermione knew she needed to make a decision, but truly she found herself not particularly caring if she went anywhere this year. That was part of the reason she had already started her summer homework. For the first time in a while, maybe ever, she found herself desiring a little down time-especially after the stress and excitement of this past year. She had worked almost as hard as Harry had for the TriWizard Tournament.

Hermione shuddered delicately. If she was feeling stressed, she didn't even want to think about what Harry must be going through. She hoped Professor Dumbledore would let him go to the Burrow soon. Or even here to my home. He, more than anyone needed a little tender loving care-and he wasn't likely to get it from the Dursleys.

Crookshanks was rubbing against her ankles, purring, and wanting attention. Hermione obligingly scooped him up, and scratched his ears, wearing a pensive expression. She still remembered this first time she had seen Vernon Dursley. She, Harry, and Ron had just arrived at platform 9¾ after their first year at Hogwarts. He had barely spoken a civil word to Harry, and couldn't be bothered to meet his new friends, or their parents. He had been so horribly unpleasant, Hermione had been shocked.

Still, before this year Harry's uncle had at least been on time. Hermione had to assume Harry had made it home okay, as hadn't heard from him yet. Ron either for that matter. That's the only bad thing about the summer holidays, Hermione mused. Since I don't have an owl of my own, I have to wait for Ron or Harry to write first. Usually that wasn't a problem, but this summer, she found herself seeking reassurance. She glanced at her calendar, and shook her head impatiently. July 6. She hadn't even been home a full week yet.

The sun was sitting low in the sky, casting the long shadows of late afternoon over the yard. Hermione deposited Crookshanks on her bed, and flopped down beside him. It wasn't quite time for dinner, so she closed her eyes and just soaked in the familiar comfort of her childhood room.

Tap-tap-tap.

"Come in," the girl answered absently. No one entered, and the tapping repeated itself. Hermione opened a confused brown eye, and looked for the source of the knocking. A delighted smile spread over her face as she glanced at the window. "Hedwig!"

Hermione bounded over to the window, and let the snowy owl in. "Hello, girl," she grinned, stroking her brilliant white plumage. Hedwig, she was amused to see, was loaded down with correspondence. She had a letter tied to each leg, and one in her beak. She dropped the one in her beak into Hermione's hand, nipped her affectionately, then flew back out the window before the startled witch could even offer her some water.

Hermione watched as she disappeared in the distance, puzzled by her behavior. Harry knew she didn't have an owl, and usually instructed Hedwig to stay while she responded. Oh, well. Hermione shrugged, and eagerly tore open her letter. Maybe he said something inside.

6 July 1995

Dear Hermione,

How are you? I hope your summer is going well. Things here are okay. I thought I was going to spend the holidays dying of boredom, but guess what? I have a summer job. It's nothing fancy, mind, but it doesn't matter. Almost anything is better than being cooped up in Uncle Vernon's house.

So, what are your big plans for the summer? Are you going to be able to go on holiday with your parents? I reckon I'll be sticking pretty close...recent events and all. Whatever you do, have fun, but be careful!

Well, that's all my news. Hedwig has a couple more messages to deliver, so I asked her to stop by your place on her way back, if you want to write back.

Hope to hear from you soon.

Harry

P.S. I've finished my Transfiguration assignment, and my Charms essay. Surprise!

When Hermione read the post script of Harry's letter, her mouth dropped open in shock, before breaking into a happy smile. Well, he sounds okay, Hermione thought. Her eyes skipped over the lines again. Be careful indeed! Who do you think you're talking to, Mr. Accident-Waiting-To-Happen! Hermione giggled lightly, and laid the letter on her desk. Hedwig probably wouldn't be back for a few days. Unless Ron's owl, Pig, showed up, she had plenty of time to write a reply. In the meantime, she'd better get cracking on that Charms essay...it just wouldn't do for Harry to finish his summer homework before she did!

___________

Friday, July 7, 1995

Molly Weasley looked up from cooking breakfast, and smiled at the snowy owl who was tapping on her kitchen window. "Hedwig!" she greeted warmly, letting the owl in, and fetching some food and water. Hedwig hooted gratefully, and delicately sipped the water. "Ron!" Molly yelled up the stairs.

"I'm coming, Mum!" Ron's slightly irritated reply floated down the stairs. She had only just called them all down to breakfast a few minutes ago.

"Don't take that tone with me, young man," his mother replied, a hint of warning in her voice. "Hedwig is here. I thought you'd like to know."

Oh. Ron thought, abashed. "Sorry, Mum," he called while he searched through the clothes scattered around his room for a clean shirt. "Be right there."

By the time Ron made it downstairs, the table was full, and Hedwig had finished her refreshments. She hooted a greeting, and held out her left leg when the boy approached her. "Hey, Hedwig," Ron said, as he untied the letter. "How's life with the muggles?" The snowy owl blinked noncommentally while he opened his letter and began to read.

6 July 1995

Dear Ron,

Hi, mate! Hope you're enjoying the holiday. Tell your mum that the charms she put on Hedwig's cage and my trunk were absolutely brilliant! I'm quite sure I wouldn't have managed half as well without them.

I'm doing okay. I sort of had to get a summer job, so that's taken some getting used to. It's good though. I'm not stuck in Uncle Vernon's house all day, and to tell the truth, keeping busy is helping. I'm so desperate, I've even started my summer assignments. Pathetic, really.

Well, that's my news. Tell everyone hello for me, and write back soon!

Harry

"What did Harry say, son?" Arthur Weasley asked as Ron slid up to the table, and began to fill his plate. Ron obligingly read the short note aloud. When he was finished, his parents looked at each other in disbelief.

"He has a job?" Molly said, stunned. "Is that safe? I thought he wasn't supposed to leave his aunt and uncle's." Her expression darkened. "If he can work, why can't he come to the Burrow?"

The Weasley children looked at each other and shrugged.

"Molly, we can't trap Harry in that house all summer," Arthur said reasonably. "Besides, there's a world of difference between him leaving for a few hours to work, and his leaving the property entirely, and until the warding is completed on the Burrow..."

"Yes, I know," Molly sighed. "We have to protect the Burrow for our sakes as well as Harry's." She met her husband's gaze with determination. "So we'll carry on tonight, then?"

"Yes. As soon as I get off work." Arthur drained his tea, and gave his wife a peck on the cheek.

Ron watched as his father and Percy, his older brother, flooed to his job at the ministry. During the day, things were almost normal. The Burrow was as cheerfully chaotic as ever. Evenings were another story, though. In the evenings, his parents, and his three oldest brothers struggled to weave a complex web of magical protection around the Burrow. It was a maddening dichotomy. One that Ron found horribly frustrating. It was murder being an underage student. He wanted to help!

For perhaps the first time in his life, Ron understood the concept of being involved in something larger than he was. His safe, anonymous and relatively obscure life had been snatched away. He grimaced slightly when he thought of all the times he'd complained about, or felt overshadowed by his family. Right now they were the only thing he felt he could depend on. How on earth did Harry cope, living with those muggle relatives of his?

Hedwig had been resting on Errol's perch over in the corner. She flew around the kitchen, hooting happily, before flying out the window again. Ron smiled as he watched her until she was out of sight, then went off to find some parchment and a quill. He had a couple of letters to write.

_______

Sunday, July 9, 1995

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Order of Merlin First Class recipient, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, and International Confederation of Wizards member sat in his office, going through his owls. Piled on the desk in front of him, were letters from concerned parents, howlers from angry parents, regular correspondence, and reports from the Order members who were in the field.

Albus sighed, and reached for the distinctive red envelopes. Best to get those out of the way first. In all likelihood, they probably weren't going to contain any useful information, but one never knew. He'd certainly been surprised in the past.

Fawkes blinked awake, and glared balefully at the headmaster as frightened shouting filled the office. Almost all of the howlers were from parents. Dumbledore noted with wry amusement that most of them were more upset about their children being taught to call Voldemort by name than they were about the monster's return. He really hoped something could be done about that "You-Know-Who" nonsense. At least he hadn't gotten one from Molly Weasley. Yet. He had gotten a couple of impassioned letters, though. Persistent, that woman. Like a determined little terrier with a bone in her teeth.

To his surprise, the last howler was from the esteemed Minister of Magic. Albus allowed himself a small chuckle. If he had seven howlers on his desk, Fudge and the rest of the bureaucrats surely had their hands full. Perhaps I should send them some earplugs, Albus smirked as he ripped open the last howler. Immediately the unctions tones of the Minister of Magic rang out.

"ALBUS, YOU IDIOT! I THOUGHT YOU KNEW BETTER THAN TO TELL UNCORROBORATED RUMORS, AND SPREAD PANIC! I'VE ALWAYS SUPPORTED YOU AND GIVEN YOU A FREE HAND IN THE RUNNING OF THAT SCHOOL, BUT I'M WARNING YOU-THERE ARE LIMITS! EVEN YOU CAN'T BE FOOLISH ENOUGH TO BLINDLY TAKE THE WORD OF A FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD BOY-I DON'T CARE WHO HE IS!"

Cornelius paused here, obviously getting his breath back, then he continued in a more threatening tone, "IF YOU PULL ANOTHER STUNT LIKE THIS I'LL BE FORCED TO TAKE THE MATTER UP WITH THE BOARD OF GOVERNORS! YOU'LL BE OUT OF THAT SCHOOL SO FAST YOU WON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED...!"