Disclaimer: It's JKR's sandbox. I'm just building sand castles in it.
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Hermione glanced around Privet Drive, realizing there wasn't a soul in sight. It was an extremely warm day, and already her clothes were beginning to cling to her body. She was suddenly glad she'd managed to rush out of the Burrow without Mrs. Weasley spotting her. While Hermione could appreciate the magic in place to keep the temperatures bearable in the Weasley house, she knew that the moment she stepped outside that a long-sleeve shirt and jeans would never suffice in the summer weather. That was why she made a habit of wearing shorts and a tank top, and was always prepared to change quickly should Mrs. Weasley come around.
Most witches would feel self-conscious wearing such an outfit in public, as they were generally accustomed to wearing ankle-length robes. Hermione, with her Muggle up bringing, felt perfectly comfortable in her attire. Perhaps that was why Petunia Dursley didn't seem the least bit confused when she rang the doorbell.
Petunia's face lit up at the sight of the pretty young witch on her doorstep, and turned to yell upstairs before even giving Hermione a chance to speak.
"Oh, Dudders! That lovely young lady you were telling us about has come by to see you!" She turned back to Hermione. "Now, what was your name again? Ah, yes. Sarah Renard! Neighbours with the Polkisses, are you? My Dudders has told me so much about you, said he'd ask you round for tea soon," Petunia was talking so fast that Hermione couldn't get a word in edgewise without being rude. She chose to let Mrs. Dursley continue her rambling, to see just where it was leading.
Petunia ushered her into the living room, where there was a tea service waiting on the coffee table. "Now, Sarah, tell me a little more about yourself. My, you are a beautiful young lady! Such shiny hair, and your eyes! Why, there's just a touch of emerald in there! I didn't even see it until the light hit you in just the right way! And oh--!" Petunia continued to go on about Hermione's looks, causing her to flush. She could her a bit of a rumble upstairs, and assumed it was Dudley coming down. She'd heard stories from Harry about how large his cousin was, and was about to discover it was true. "You have such wonderful taste in clothing, Sarah! That top is just the right colour to bring out the colour of your eyes, and that's such an interesting bracelet!"
Just as Dudley reached the bottom of the stairs and spotted Hermione, she lifted her right arm with the interesting 'bracelet' to brush her hair behind her ears. That was when Petunia realized exactly what made the bracelet so interesting. She gasped, leapt off the couch to cling to Dudley, and began pointing and choking on her words.
"That's-that's… it's a-"
"Wand?" Hermione supplied helpfully, a smirk coming to her lips. "Mrs. Dursley, perhaps from now on you should consider letting your guests get a word in before you go off about something that isn't bloody likely to happen. Judging by the looks of your son and the stories I've heard, you won't be having any lovely young ladies over for tea any time soon."
Vernon Dursley chose that exact moment to entire the living room, loudly proclaiming, "So my boy has gone and found himself a girl, has he? And what a pretty one too, at that! Petunia, Dudley, what are you huddling over at the stairs for? It's not often that Dudley brings a girl ho-" Vernon's eyes went wide. "What's th-that?!" he pointed towards Hermione's wrist.
"As I was just explaining to your wife, Mr. Dursley, that is a wand. More specifically, my wand, and what your wife thought was a bracelet is really a wand holster. My wand is made of Vinewood, with the heartstring of a dragon as the core." She saw the terrified looks in their eyes at the mention of a dragon.
Vernon's head looked like it was about to explode. His face began to turn a deeper shade of scarlet when he finally was able to speak again. "You mean to tell me that you're-you're-"
"A witch?" Hermione supplied, as helpful as always.
"That's it! I will not have any more bloody freaks in this house! Out! Out! Out! Having one crazy child is bad enough; I will not deal with two! Lord knows what made Dudders think it would be a fantastic idea to bring you round for tea, but I assure you it will never happen again! Bloody freaks, the lot of you!" Vernon continued to scream and shout, all the while slowly advancing on Hermione in an attempt to push her out the front door.
Upstairs, Harry was trying to ignore Vernon's yelling when he caught the word 'freak'. His Uncle had only been known to use that term when referring to witches and wizards such as himself, and he had no idea what, or who, was angering him so much to be screaming it at the top of his lungs.
Feeling that he had nothing else left to lose, Harry decided to go investigate. If Uncle Vernon decided to try and attack him again like last year, he had no problem hexing the overly large man. What with the new Minister of Magic's desperate attempts to get Harry on his side, he was hoping that any underage magic performed that day would simply go unnoticed.
Harry retrieved his wand, and pointed it at the door. "Alohomora!" The numerous deadbolts and locks on his door slid open, and Harry ventured downstairs. He figured he'd have roughly ten minutes before a notice from the Ministry would arrive. Plenty of time to bewitch his things and leave if necessary. Rechecking his wand, Harry felt prepared to go downstairs and see what was going on.
He was not prepared for what he saw.
Standing in the living room with her arms crossed and wand at the ready, Hermione was glaring at his Uncle, daring him to continue with his yelling. "Perhaps I did not make myself clear, Mr. Dursley. I am not this 'Sarah Renard' you believed to be interested in Dudley, and for the life of me I can't understand why anyone would be. My name is Hermione Jane Granger, and I am a seventh year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Well, I would be a seventh year student if I return in September, but right now the Wizarding world is at war. Your nephew may seem like nothing more to you than a butler who is there to do your chores and cook your meals, but in our world, he's a celebrity! He's Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and the only one who can defeat Lord Voldemort! He's a greater wizard than anyone I've ever met with the exception of our late Headmaster, and he's faced Voldemort more times than any other wizard. Oh, did I mention the amount of money he's inherited over the last couple of years? His parents-your sister, Petunia-left him an obscene amount of money. He's also acquired another fortune from his godfather, Sirius Black. For the last sixteen years you have treated the greatest, kindest, and here's a term people of your level will understand, richest wizards in all of history with no more dignity and respect than a fourteenth century scullery maid."
Hermione paused to let all of her words sink in and take a breath before she continued.
"Not only is Harry the saviour of the wizarding world and a prominent public figure, he is my best friend. He's stood by me when no one else would, and put up with my annoying habits for six years. I've fought Voldemort and his Death Eaters by his side, and I am more than prepared to do it again. Perhaps you aren't aware of what has happened to Harry in the last two years. He lost his godfather in a battle with Voldemort. Just weeks ago he returned from a mission to destroy Voldemort only to watch his Headmaster and mentor murdered by a professor. He has experience more loss in his lifetime than you ever will, and he blames himself for all of it! Thanks to his eleven years in a cupboard under the stairs in your home, Harry has always believed that he is not capable of living up to the prophecy. He blames himself for everything, and thanks to you his self-confidence was shattered before it could even develop. Until Harry came to Hogwarts he'd never even experienced friendship, family, and love! You lot have never loved him or shown him any kindness. You probably don't even think he deserves to be loved. Well I have news for you. I'm in-I love Harry Potter, and you are the freaks! What kind of human beings are you, anyway?" Hermione slowly began to raise her wand, pointing it at the Dursleys. "Perhaps it's time you feel some of the pain you've inflicted upon Harry! I ought to hex you into oblivi-"
"Hermione, that's enough!" Harry shouted from the stairs. She immediately dropped her wand arm to her side and stared at him.
He looked like a complete mess. His hair was even more unruly than usual, with random tufts sticking out at all angles. His emerald green eyes were shimmering, moist with unshed tears. There were smudges of dirt on his face, corresponding with the ragged, muddy rips in his oversized t-shirt; no doubt a hand-me-down from the Dursley's precious 'Dudders'. His worn jeans were far too large for his frame, barely held up by an old, cracked leather belt. Even his trainers were a disgrace, with his toes peeking out from the ends in greyed holey socks.
Hermione had never seen Harry like this. She'd heard the stories, but it was always Ron, or Dumbledore who had come to get him from Privet Drive. She gasped, tears welling up in her eyes. She'd been this upset and furious with the Dursleys just from the tales she'd been told; seeing the evidence right in front of her face was enough to send her over the edge.
Harry quickly descended the stairs to catch her in his arms as she crumpled to the floor, sobbing. The Dursleys took this as their cue to flee the house. They all piled into the car and drove off in terror, leaving the young witch clinging to their nephew.
Holding Hermione close, Harry tried to calm her down, soothingly stroking her hair. She continued to shake in his arms, as the realization of what she was about to do sunk in.
"Harry, I-" she began, but he placed a gentle finger on her lips to silence her.
"It's okay, 'Mione. Really. Just calm down."
Hermione breathed deeply for a minute or so, still trembling as her tears subsided. She was fully aware of everything she had just shouted at the Dursleys', and was wondering how aware Harry was.
"The walls are thin, I heard all of it," he said, seeming to sense her unasked question.
Hermione sniffled, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Oh, Harry, I had no idea," she whispered. When she looked up at him, Harry could see the tears dancing in her eyes, threatening to spill over again at any moment. He ran the tip of his finger under her eyes, catching the tears before they fell.
Harry struggled to get his next words out, his heart wrenching as he felt what his best friend was feeling. "'Mione, we have to go."
"What?" she looked at him, questions in her eyes.
"Uncle Vernon locked me in my room, and I wasn't about to kick it down and have him beat me again. I used my wand to open it."
Hermione was beginning to come to her senses, and the gravity of Harry's words were sinking in. "You... you used Alohomora on the door?" she asked.
Harry nodded. "'Fraid so. I heard Uncle Vernon yelling something about freaks, and seeing as that's how he describes us, well… I knew I hadn't don't anything yet to make him angry today, so it had to be someone else. He hasn't got the stones to yell at Dumble-" Harry gulped, realizing that Dumbledore would never rescue him from Little Whinging again, "at any of the professors like that." he lamented. "I knew it had to be someone else."
"So we should be hearing from Mafalda Hopkirk shortly?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded. He continued to hold his best friend, well aware of the fact that she was still trembling. Moments later, an owl arrived with a letter.
Mr. Harry Potter
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging, Surrey
Dear Mr. Potter,
It has come to my attention through the Restriction on Underage Magic that you have recently performed the 'Alohomora' charm in the home of Muggles. Ordinarily you would receive a summons to the Ministry in such an event, but in light of your upcoming birthday, I have given the Improper Use of Magic office specific instructions to 'overlook' any minor spells for the time being. I feel it important to notify you of this situation, and to inform you that unless the Ministry detects Unforgivable curses or more serious spells, you are free to practice magic as you see fit. As there is approximately one week until you come of age, consider this as an early birthday present.
Yours Truly,
Rufus Scrimgeour
Minister of Magic
PS - By the way, Harry… If I were you I'd be getting away from those Muggle relatives of yours ASAP.
Harry read the letter and then passed it on to Hermione. Before she could get past a few lines, another owl arrived.
Harry (And Hermione, I presume):
Harry, Hermione used the Floo network to leave the Burrow and get you. Mrs. Figg sent me an owl to let me know.
Hermione, what were you thinking, rushing off from the Burrow alone at a time like this? You've always been so levelheaded; I can't understand why you'd put yourself and Harry in danger like this.
Mad-Eye, Tonks and myself will be arriving shortly to collect you and bring you safely back to the Burrow. Harry, if you could be so kind as to prepare your trunk for the school year, it would be very helpful.
See you shortly,
Remus
"Harry, we can't go back there," Hermione whispered. He looked at her, confused. "I-I really don't think Ron is ready to come with us to find the remaining Horcruxes. And there's no way Mrs. Weasley is going to let Ginny come. If we go back there it'll just put everyone in danger."
"Then where do we go? We can't go back to Hogwarts, if it even opens in September. I was looking forward to the Burrow. I want to see how Gin-how everyone's doing." He said quietly.
The feeling from earlier began to resurface deep within Hermione. She willed it back down. "Harry, it's okay. I know you broke up with Ginny. She understands. We all do. But speaking as a girl who's gone through a break-up, seeing more of each other afterwards isn't going to help."
"You and Ron?" Harry looked surprised. "It takes you two three years to get together and it's over already?"
"I could say the same thing about you and Ginny," Hermione said, refusing to meet his gaze.
Harry cupped a hand under her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Are you okay?" His eyes searched hers, his other hand sliding around her waist to pull her in for a hug.
Hermione broke away before he could get too close. "Harry, I waited for three years for him to notice me, and that was a minor task. I'm not going to wait thirteen years for him to stop being a complete git." She sniffled back another tear, realizing that in a brief moment that morning she'd given up on someone she'd waited three years for. Then she remembered why she'd given up.
"You'd better get your trunk so we can get out of here. I don't know just where we'll go yet, but we can't be here. Otherwise we'll be stuck at the Burrow all summer, Mrs. Weasley on our backs, and she'll never let us search for the Horcruxes. I meant it when I said I was coming with you, Harry. I'm not going back to Hogwarts in September, I'm not meant to. There may not be a prophecy about me, but I'm going to make my own choices in life. I choose to go with you, Harry. Now let's go get your trunk."
They went upstairs to Harry's sad excuse for a room, Hermione stifling back another gasp at the deplorable conditions. He quickly packed up his trunk and levitated it down to the living room. Hermione performed a Featherweight charm on his trunk and a Reduction charm, enabling Harry to put the trunk in his pocket. He glanced at her, questioningly.
"If Scrimgeour is overlooking any magic coming from your direction, the Ministry will most likely assume that it's you performing the spells and not me."
Harry smiled at her, and they headed for the door.
"Wait a second, Harry." She smiled. "Scourgify!" Hermione cleaned him up at bit. "I may not be able to make the clothes fit, but I can at least make them presentable. Perhaps we can do a bit of Muggle shopping at Harrods and find you something more suitable. Shall we?" she asked, offering her arm.
Harry linked his arm with hers, and they left Privet Drive together, in search of sanctuary before they began their mission.