Chapter 50- conversations.

Saturday, July 22, 1995

"Hermione! You have an owl!"

"Thanks, Mum!" Hermione responded, marking her place, and setting her book aside. She paused just long enough to grab her little bag of owl treats out of her trunk, then hurried downstairs. Who could have sent it? she wondered, as she turned into the kitchen. Her mum and dad knew Hedwig and Pig, so it probably wasn't from Ron or Harry, and it was a bit early yet for Hogwarts letters. Hermione frowned a bit, considering. Perhaps Ron had borrowed Errol or Hermes again.

"Here he is, dear," Greg Granger said from behind his newspaper, gesturing towards a larger-than-average bird who looked like he was built for power and speed. "From Hogwarts, isn't he?"

Hermione looked again, and noticed the school seal that the owl was wearing. Ah. Apparently it was her school letter, after all. Perhaps they were being sent early this year.

"Thank you," she said, offering some owl treats. Her mum or dad, she noticed, had already provided some water.

The owl hooted appreciatively, then held out his leg. He seemed to be in a hurry, but did not immediately depart when she untied her letter. Hermione wondered about this for a second, then nodded and quickly opened the envelope. He must have been instructed to wait for a response.

Dear Miss Granger,

I have a question for you concerning Mr. Harry Potter. Do not be alarmed, he is not in trouble, I am merely requesting some information. Since you and Mr. Ronald Weasley are his closest friends, you seemed to be the logical ones to ask.

In your opinion, how is Mr. Potter doing? Some questions have come up as to how well he is coping with recent events. Mr. Potter assures me that he is not suffering any undue stress, but I find myself desiring a second opinion. He sometimes has a tendency to downplay his own troubles.

I have instructed Hercules to wait for your reply. If you would kindly respond immediately to this post, it would be very much appreciated. Thank you, and enjoy the rest of your holiday.

Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Hermione read and re-read the letter, frowning a bit. It certainly wasn't what she had been expecting.

She wondered why the headmaster was asking her, when he said he'd just spoken to Harry. Didn't that imply that he'd seen Harry in person? Well, no, she allowed, reading the sentence again. He said "Mr. Potter assures me." Harry could have done that in a letter, I suppose. Still, the whole thing sounded a bit...odd. If Professor Dumbledore was so worried about Harry, why didn't he just go check on him?

"Bad news princess?"

"Not exactly," the girl said, turning to face her mother. "It's from my headmaster, Professor Dumbledore. He wants to know how I think Harry's doing." She shrugged and bit her lip thoughtfully. Perhaps the headmaster simply didn't have the time to schedule a visit-or Harry's muggle relatives refused to allow it.

She mentally flipped through what she remembered of Harry's recent correspondence, then went on. "He sounds all right in his letters, but that's not always a good indicator."

"What about when he rang you up a couple of days ago?" her father asked. "How did he sound then?"

"A little preoccupied," Hermione admitted. "He wanted to know if I'd ever done any child-minding." Her parents laughed, and she scrunched her face at them before smiling good-naturedly. "Evidently one of his customers wanted to hire him to watch over her children for the evening," she elaborated, shrugging again. "She wanted to pay him, and he had no idea how much to charge."

"Hmm. Or what to do, I'd wager," her mother added, with a knowing smile.

Giggling, Hermione recalled how Harry had rung her up Thursday evening after supper. He'd made her swear she wouldn't mention a word to Ron, then proceeded to confidently ask her about one of the things she knew absolutely nothing about. When she'd admitted as much to him, he'd been flatteringly amazed.

"What do you mean you have no idea?" he'd demanded in a comically indignant way.

"I never claimed to know everything," she'd responded primly, trying her best to keep from laughing. She could almost hear him raising his eyebrow over the phone.

"Could have fooled me," he'd muttered, sounding ridiculously sulky. He'd paused a minute, then almost whined, "You don't know anything about child-minding, Hermione? Nothing at all?"

That time, Hermione did laugh. Harry had sounded just like Ron did when she wouldn't share her homework answers. "Harry, like you, I spend most of the year at Hogwarts, and I'm an only child," she'd reminded him, logically ticking off points. "I'm home approximately two months in the summer, a lot of that time is spent traveling with my parents, and there are no small children in my neighborhood. Exactly when do you think I've had the time or the opportunity to learn about childcare?"

"I don't know, Muggle studies?" Harry suggested hopefully. There was a pause, during which she imagined he had shrugged, or maybe run his fingers through his hair before he continued. "Sorry, that was stupid. I shouldn't have troubled you."

"No trouble, Harry. You can ring anytime you like. I'm sorry I wasn't able to be of more help..."

They had spoken a bit more before saying goodbye, catching up on each others' news and comparing progress on homework assignments. She'd thanked him for the shirt he'd sent, and told him that she and her parents had opted to stay in England this summer. She didn't feel up to a big adventure, so they were planning to visit some local sights around London that they hadn't been to in years.

Harry had seemed pleased she'd liked her gift, and claimed he was keeping busy and doing fine. He also promised to ask Dumbledore if it might be permissible for him to accompany them on some of their outings. He was supposed to ring again in a few days after contacting the professor, and presumably approaching his employer about some time off.

Hermione considered the letter again. From the sound of it, Harry probably hadn't written to the headmaster yet, or perhaps their owls had crossed. Yes, she thought, feeling a little better now that a reasonable explanation presented itself. Once Professor Dumbledore knew Harry wanted to get out and about, he probably wouldn't be so worried. She thought a bit, composing a rough draft in her head, before something occurred to her, and she turned to face her mother.

"Actually, Mum, you're the only one who's seen Harry recently," Hermione said. "How was he when you went shopping?"

Helen thought a bit, then shrugged. "He seemed fine. A little nervous at first, but he relaxed quickly enough. I think he was afraid we wouldn't get on, or some such nonsense."

"What did you do?" Hermione pressed.

"He met me at the surgery, then we went to the mall. I told you that days ago."

"Yes," her daughter agreed, "but what did you do exactly once you arrived?"

Helen sat at the kitchen table, thinking back. "He made an appointment to get his eyes checked, we had lunch, I did some of my shopping while he had his examination, I helped him pick out some new glasses frames, then we visited several shops." She paused and shook her head ruefully, before smiling up at her daughter again. "He needed everything, poor lamb. Clothes, shoes, toiletries...I wasn't sure we'd be able to carry it all!"

Hermione nodded, thoughtfully. That wasn't at all surprising. Heaven knew Harry could do with some decent Muggle clothes! She'd been amazed the first time she met him. Anyone who didn't know better would think it was Harry's family who sometimes had trouble making ends meet, not Ron's. The Weasleys might not have an excess of riches, but Mrs. Weasley always made sure everyone had what they needed and that they looked smart when they went out. She was about to let the subject drop when something occurred to her. "Harry bought new glasses?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. His prescription had changed a bit, and frankly his old frames were atrocious. He also purchased some contact lenses," Helen supplied as an afterthought, grinning at her daughter's amazement. "Seemed to think they'd help his Quidditch game."

Hermione blew out a little breath and rolled her eyes. Trust Harry to base a decision like buying contact lenses on something as silly as that! "So was that all, then?"

"I believe so-no, just a moment! We also stopped by the barber shop."

"The barber shop?" Hermione parroted incredulously, regarding her mother with a new respect. Harry seemed to have an aversion to those places.

"Yes," Helen said, smiling at the memory. "It was quite an improvement I must say," she began, then her eyes widened in horror and she covered her mouth with her fingertips.

"What is it dear?" Greg asked frowning a little.

Helen glanced guiltily up at Hermione and sighed. "He asked me not to mention that. I think he wanted to surprise you, dearest. Please, do act surprised the next time you see him."

"Of course, Mum," Hermione assured. She wondered a bit about her mother's comment, then dismissed it. Privately, she allowed that even a small change for the better could be considered "quite an improvement" when applied to Harry's unruly mop.

Hercules seemed to be getting impatient, so Hermione hurried off to fetch some writing supplies, then sat down at the table.

Dear Professor Dumbledore:

I haven't seen Harry since the end of term, but we have been exchanging letters, and he has rung me on the telephone a few times.

So far, he seems all right. I don't know if he's told you, but he has a summer job. The first time he phoned, he was wanting advice on where he should go to purchase some clothes. I was on an outing with my dad, but Mum was here. She needed to do some shopping herself, so she escorted him to the mall.

Hermione blinked at what she'd just written, then frowned up at her mother. "Mum, if Harry needed new clothes for his job down in Surrey, why did he come all the way to London to go shopping?"

"He said he needed to go by Gringott's to exchange some money," Helen shrugged, after thinking a bit. "Since he had to go to Diagon Alley anyway, he decided to take care of his shopping here in the city."

"He went to Gringott's?" Hermione echoed incredulously. When Harry had mentioned getting a job, she'd assumed it had been at the insistence of his aunt and uncle. Further, she had assumed (a bit too optimistically, it seemed) that the Dursleys had purchased, or at least provided the money for Harry to purchase his new clothing.

Knowing what she did of the Dursleys, however, she was fairly certain that they didn't have an account at Gringott's.

That meant... That meant Harry had purchased everything on his own!

"Well...yes," Helen said, slightly taken aback by the fierce indignation creeping into her daughter's eyes. "As far as I'm aware, Gringott's doesn't have branches in the outlying areas, and Harry needed the clothes immediately. He was scheduled to begin working in the next day or so and really couldn't wait."

She stopped and shrugged helplessly. "He said his aunt and uncle weren't available to escort him to the shops, so I just guessed they didn't have time to do the banking either."

Hermione pursed her lips, shuffling this new information into her mental deck then dealing and examining the cards again. Harry had evidently told her mother enough to allay any concerns she might have had about him coming to London unescorted, but she doubted he had told her everything. Harry was funny that way sometimes.

Something was up, but what?

Suspicious, she regarded the letter from Hogwarts. Was this the "real" reason Professor Dumbledore was writing to her?

"Hermione, is something wrong?"

Hermione jumped guiltily, then reluctantly faced her parents. They were watching her seriously, concerned looks on their faces.

"I... I'm not sure," she admitted honestly. "Something just seems...off. With Harry, I mean. It could be nothing but..." she trailed off making a helpless little gesture. On one hand there wasn't enough evidence to justify panicking, and she certainly didn't want to be accused of jumping to conclusions. On the other hand, this was Harry they were discussing, and trouble seemed to follow him where ever he went. She glanced at the letter in her hand again, frowning indecisively.

"Well, it's still early enough, why don't you go ring him up?" her father suggested kindly. "As you say it could be nothing, but unless I miss my guess, you'll just fret until you know for sure." He peered at her over the top of his newspaper and gave her a knowing smirk. "This will save time."

Hermione blinked, then smiled Of course! she thought happily. Harry had given her the Dursleys' telephone number after their second year at Hogwarts. She had never used it before because Ron had written her after calling himself and warned her that it made Harry's muggle relatives cross. He'd reckoned he'd gotten Harry into trouble. Not wanting to cause any more problems for her dark-haired friend, Hermione had regretfully filed the slip of parchment away.

She'd found out later that Ron hadn't really understood telephones, and thought he needed to shout to be heard...

Hermione rolled her eyes, smiling and shaking her head at the image. Harry's uncle might not be on her list of favorite people, but she supposed she really couldn't blame him for being cross about that.

"I need to check something before I send Professor Dumbledore his reply. Won't be a moment," she told the not-so-patiently waiting owl, before running back to her room.

It took a bit of searching, but she finally found the scrap of parchment Harry had given her between the pages of her Potions text. Hermione giggled as she removed the paper, wondering what Harry would think if he knew. Given his history with Professor Snape, it was probably better not to mention it.

She paused a moment working through what she was going to say, then screwed up her courage and walked to the upstairs line. She was surprised a few seconds later when she found herself listening to a standard "This Number Is Not In Service" recording.

Hermione frowned. Had she misdialed? She tried again with the same result.

Heaving a frustrated sigh, Hermione re-filed Harry's number (in her Charms text this time) and went back downstairs.

Her parents seemed surprised to see her back so soon. She and Harry had chatted a good half hour or more the last time they'd been on the phone.

"No one home, princess?" her mother asked.

"The number isn't in service," Hermione huffed with a little frown. "They must be having trouble with the line. I'll have to try again in the morning."

She regarded Hercules, then decided to just send him on with what she knew. If she thought of something else, she could always go to the Owl Post Office on Diagon Alley.

With that plan in mind, she retrieved her half-finished letter.

To answer your question, sir, Harry seems to be coping fairly well. His letters have been normal, and he sounded all right on the phone. I haven't seen him in person, but as I mentioned previously, my mum has. I asked her opinion, and she said she didn't spot anything unusual.

Your owl seems anxious to be on his way, so I will close here. If anything comes up, or we hear from Harry I will send another owl.

Sincerely,

Hermione Granger

Nodding at the letter, she tied it to Hercules' leg, and sent him on his way. The great owl hooted his thanks, then was gone in a few powerful wing beats.

Hermione was just about to close the kitchen window, when another bird flew through. This time, though, she could identify the sender readily. She and her parents watched in amusement as Ron's little owl, Pigwidgeon, flew over to her, struggling mightily under the weight of the letter he had clamped firmly in his talons.

"Popular tonight, aren't we?" Helen grinned, earning a harassed look from her daughter. She and Greg watched fondly while Hermione caught the little owl and relieved him of his burden before exiting the kitchen and heading for the lounge. Hermione paused long enough to refill the water dish and set out more treats, then tore open Ron's letter.

Hermione!

You'll never guess what that stupid git has done! I can't believe it myself!

Hermione raised her eyebrows and widened her eyes as she read. Someone had managed to get Ron in quite a state! Usually he at least said "Hello, how are you?" before starting with his news.

I just got back from Hogwarts. the letter continued. Professor Dumbledore called a big meeting tonight. You know how Harry's been writing to us, saying he's working, and everything is fine? Well get this! His uncle was transferred with his job! His relatives have moved to Australia!

Hermione blinked in shock. Harry's muggle relatives were in Australia? Horrified, she began to scan the letter more quickly. Ron was understandably agitated and his letter jumped around a bit, but she got his message nonetheless.

Professor Dumbledore sent someone to find them and fetch Harry back, but he wasn't there! The only reason Mum left Harry behind at King's Cross was he thought he'd spotted his uncle! We reckon Harry must have made a mistake-we just can't figure out why he didn't owl someone immediately!

Ron went on, describing the meeting at the castle-at least the portion he'd been present for. From what he said, it had evidently continued after he'd been chivvied back to the Burrow. Then he went into a very creative and detailed rant about the damage he planned to inflict on Harry's tender body the next time he saw him. Hermione skimmed that part. Amusing though it was, it didn't really add anything to her list of facts. He ended by asking her if she could meet him at the Leaky Cauldron the next day to try and sort things out.

Aghast, Hermione re-folded the letter and slipped it back into its envelope. Feeling a bit sick, she swallowed, and sat down at the table again.

If Harry's Muggle relatives had moved out of the country, and Harry was still in Britain...

...or he talked like he was still in Britain, anyway...

...what did that mean?

Had Harry refused to accompany them?

Had they simply left him behind?

Was that why he was working?

That would explain why Harry's phone number isn't in service, the girl thought, absently tapping the letter on the table. His aunt and uncle would have had it disconnected before they left. So where is he calling from, then? Hotel? Flat? Public phone? She twisted her mouth to one side, considering. A public phone seemed most likely, but she made a mental note to check the number the next time Harry called.

She reached for another sheet of paper, and automatically scribbled a short note of acceptance to Ron, working on the problem all the while.

Slowly, Hermione turned her head and glanced at the letter she had just answered. Professor Dumbledore said he wanted to know how Harry was doing.

According to Ron's letter, Harry had gone missing. He was corresponding like everything was normal, but no one could find him.

Did the headmaster really mean he wanted to know where Harry was?

Blinking again, Hermione stopped writing and massaged her temples. That made no sense! Even if Harry was trying to hide, there were loads of tracking and locator charms available. She and Harry and Ron had found many while trying to help Harry prepare for the Third Task! Wouldn't Professor Dumbledore use one of those instead of fishing around for clues with vague letters?

She wondered if it hadn't occurred to Dumbledore to use such a charm and rejected the notion almost at once. Harry might have been able to fool the headmaster-as he had fooled Ron and herself-into believing that everything was okay, but now that Dumbledore was aware of the situation, she couldn't believe he had overlooked something so obvious.

Eyes narrowing suspiciously, Hermione considered Ron's letter again. He seemed very put out that Harry hadn't contacted them-orders from Professor Dumbledore or no-but there was something else...

Harry had been exempt from finals this last year, so he had done a lot of studying on his own while she and Ron reviewed their class notes and took their exams.

How much does Harry know, anyway? she wondered consideringly. Has he figured out a way to block tracking magic? There must be some defense against it, else Sirius would have been re-captured long ago.

On first glance, the idea seemed quite absurd, but again, this was Harry. When he chose to apply himself, or a subject caught his interest, he could actually be quite brilliant. In fact, the only time she'd ever failed to earn the highest score in class was third year Defense Against the Dark Arts. She'd been nudged out of first place by a certain Mr. Potter.

After making sure her parents didn't mind her making a trip to Diagon Alley, she sent Pig off with her reply to Ron, then she went to her room and re-read all of Harry's letters. She even pulled out some of his old ones, and compared them against his more recent correspondence. By the time she finally joined her parents in the lounge, she had become convinced of two things: Harry had been left behind by his relatives, and Harry was hiding in Muggle London.

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