The Letter-Chapter 2
Harry fell asleep thinking of Hermione, but it wasn't enough to stop the nightmares. He awoke in a cold sweat. The only calming thought was the kindness of one of his best friends.
He lay awake looking at the ceiling. Several times he found himself rolling over quickly with pangs of guilt.
"She didn't think anything of it I'm sure," he thought. "She was being polite and didn't embarrass me by leaving me hanging."
Soon his doubts faded again into a different pattern. "She's using me to make Ron jealous," he thought. "He's too thick to see it though. Well I won't be fooled."
Harry tried every angle he could to make that short meaningless interlude with Hermione mean something. He couldn't take the anxiety of Cedric's dead eyes staring at him. He needed someone. He needed something.
"Should I write to Sirius and tell him about her?" he said to himself. He hurried to his feet and grabbed his quill and parchment.
Dear Sirius,
I met a girl today. Well, not really met her today. I kind of stumbled upon a girl I already knew today. Oh, bloody hell, what do I do Sirius? Hermione kissed me on the cheek. Then I lost my mind and made up stories to get close to her so I could kiss her. It was a peck on the cheek.
I must be going stark, raving mad.
I got invited to the Weasley's for my birthday. Well, I sort of mentioned it to Hermione and Mrs. Weasley invited me. The Dursleys say I can go.
What do I do, Sirius? Girls, on top of everything else, it's Hermione. What do I do?
Harry
Harry opened Hedwig's cage and tied his note to her leg. Hedwig nipped at his finger lovingly and flew away.
He tried to go back to sleep. He had lain in his bed only ten minutes when he realized how stupid he was. He'd just endangered Sirius by sending a letter about a stupid rush of hormones from kissing a girl who was nothing more than a friend.
In the back of his mind he was glad that there was something going on in his life to take his mind off of Cedric and the nightmares. Even that thought began to make him wonder if he had a sane bone left in his body.
Mercifully, biology took over in another way and his mind gave in to sleep. Luckily for Harry there were so many good moments that he'd spent with Ron and Hermione that his dreams were filled with them. Each dream ended with a soft peck on the cheek between them in a private moment. He woke with a smile the next morning forgetting all of the negativity he'd generated the night before.
Four days had passed since he'd sent the owl to Sirius. Each night Harry fretted over his decision to tell Sirius. He'd finally concluded that Sirius probably thought Harry was a sissy for being so worried about kissing a girl. He realized that Sirius might not want to say anything to him for fear of hurting Harry's feelings. Nothing came to Harry that day either.
The fifth day had put Harry in such a state that he needed to do something to get rid of the anxiety. Aunt Petunia had taken Dudley to his boxing lessons and they were going to meet his Uncle Vernon for an early dinner when they were done. Harry decided that he was going to take over the living room and live a little. He knew all about how to use the cable television and the stereo. He wished that he could use magic to open the cable television bill to see when the next would come so he could sneak in a pay-per-view movie like he heard advertised when he sat quietly with the Dursleys.
His plans changed drastically when he saw Hedwig emerge from the fireplace carrying two notes. One was the color of normal parchment. The other made Harry's heart stop. It was fire engine red. His worst fear had been realized. It was a howler.
He moved away from the windows quickly to avoid the neighbors view if the howler exploded or said some right nasty things. He opened it.
"HARRY POTTER!" yelled a voice Harry recognized as Sirius.
And then it was quiet for a moment. The laughter emanated from the howler. "Harry, I'm sorry for taking so long to write back, but it took me four days to stop laughing long enough pick up a quill."
Harry felt his face turn red.
"Sorry, son, I wasn't laughing at you about having thoughts of girls. I was laughing at how much bolder you had been than either your father or I. He pursued your mother for a year before he could get her to look at him as a serious candidate for a boyfriend. You, on the other hand, saw the girl, made a plan, worked the plan, and kissed her. Bravo, my boy. And, no mean feat it was either. It's much riskier with a girl who is already your friend. I wish your father could see you now."
There was a pause. Harry's face had turned ashen and he fought back tears.
"I apologize for that Harry. I forget how painful it must still be for you to hear of your father and not know him properly. He would have laughed as I am doing now. I have advice for you Harry. It may not be easy when all you want to do is suck the girl's face right off her head…er..snog, I mean. But anyway, I think it is sound."
"You and Hermione are friends. Take advantage of that. Don't get worked up over the kiss portion of what happened. Be glad for having a nice and intelligent girl for a friend. Write to her. Don't gush about her but be sure to let you know things that about her that make you feel good. Just tell her what you're feeling about life in general and see if she does the same. Be careful not to expect her to know how you feel though Harry. If I'm not mistaken, your friend Ron's name may come up in ways that will make you uncomfortable."
"I'm sorry for taking so long when I know you must feel like it is an eternity. I hope that you understand why it took so long to write back. It took me several days to recall what love is like at your age after all I have been through. Remember my advice Harry. Your friendships are most important."
"One piece of advice that your father and I always used as a slogan when the subject was women was this: `Be careful where you go writing your name with your quill Harry. You have ink in it.' Get it. If you don't I'll explain when we meet." Sirius was laughing.
Take care, son.
It was like no other howler Harry had ever seen or heard of. He thought that his godfather would be yelling at him or at the very least admonishing him for contacting him over such a trivial thing. He'd called him `son'. He liked the sound of that. His heart ached to see his godfather more than ever at that moment.
Harry had gotten so worked up over the howler that he'd forgotten the letter on the other leg. It was from Hermione. He felt queasy. Suddenly, he was more apprehensive at the prospect of opening this letter than he had the howler. He unstuck the seal holding it together.
Dear Harry,
I was sitting in my room today thinking about how nice it was to see a happy grin on your face when we said good bye. Ron and I are always sad when we think of how lonely you are during the summers, so I decided to do something about it.
Crookshanks and I sit quietly in my room most days while I read. I know…boring…huh? Well, it's how I manage to stay ahead of things at Hogwarts and keep you two boys from getting expelled…that is when you're not arguing over stupid things like Quidditch and who put whose name in some stupid old cup….just kidding, Harry.
Well, know that I'm thinking of you often. Take care and see you on your birthday.
Hugs,
Hermione
Harry felt like he could fly without his broom. It was one of the first times he'd received a letter from Hermione where she hadn't told him to write to Dumbledore or Sirius. She'd shared her life outside Hogwarts with him…eight whole lines. He knew he was being absolutely ridiculous, but he was happy and he knew it.
Harry flopped back down in front of the television and searched the channels. He found a whole load of rubbish shows that ranged from talk shows about how to groom your pet llama to clipping the toenails of an elderly diabetes patient. With each new channel he feigned sticking his fingers down his throat in mockery of them. Soon, he had run out of channels. It didn't take him long after that to realize that he was now looking for reasons not to write back to Hermione.
Harry shut off the television and put everything back in its place. He went upstairs and found his runners and put them on deciding that he needed to think of what he would write to Hermione. There were so many things on his mind that he wanted to make sure that writing to her this time was different. He wanted it to be special.
The first thing that occurred to him as he walked was how old-fashioned Sirius' advice seemed. The next thing piece of advice would be to take her to a place like Madame Puddifoot's and order a fizzy drink with two straws and just stare in each other's eyes like he heard couples do on Hogsmeade weekends. He had a hard time thinking of Hermione on the other end of a frozen virgin pumpkin juice daiquiri. He laughed as he thought of the story he'd heard about the couple who had spewed their daiquiris out of their noses from giggling so much and grossed out the entire tearoom.
He found himself on Magnolia Crescent glad that Dudley and his crew were not out and about during the day. He knew that he'd probably catch hell for being out walking if the neighbors complained to Uncle Vernon. Who could tell what fabricated incident one of them would accuse him of next.
The second thing that he thought of was what happened between Hermione and Viktor this year. She had been pretty open about the fact that Viktor liked her a lot. It had aggravated Ron to no end. He hated the idea that somehow he might be put in the position of being someone used to make Ron jealous again. He shook the thought off and realized that maybe that was why Sirius had been adamant about focusing on their friendship. He respected his godfather, so he decided it was worth a try.
Harry went down a mental list of every like and dislike he could think of when it came to Hermione: her favorite color, her favorite tree, her favorite book (Hogwarts-a History) and her favorite cause. He groaned. He would have to face the issue with S.P.E.W. She was his friend and he was treasurer after all. He would just have to make an effort. He shook his head with self-loathing and laughed, "What we will do for love."
It wasn't long and he found himself back in front of number four, Privet Drive. He didn't feel that his walk was wasted. He was happy that he had something else to think of other than his fixation on the news later that afternoon to find out what Lord Voldemort was doing. Sadness crept into his mind as well as twinge of concern for Hermione and her family.
Harry had never done anything so hard in all his life, he thought. He had written over twenty unsent letters to Hermione looking at each one thinking how pathetic it was compared the last one he hadn't sent. Sometimes he liked what he'd written, but hated how he had ended it: Love, Harry. Was he crazy? He couldn't say he loved her. Sure he knew he loved her like a sister…but, that gave him the creeps and stunted his writing process for two more days.
Then there was the letter where he tried to be Mister Smooth. He kept this one only because he'd found it so funny.
Hello Love,
I was thinking of you this morning as I heard the pitter-pat of the rain outside my window. It occurred to me how wonderful it would be to be sitting here listening to that sound holding your hand.
He laughed out loud as he remembered writing it three days ago. He read through some of the others that he'd save because they had good lines in them or a sentiment that he want to tell her but couldn't get quite right. He was frustrated and decided he'd try one more time doing his best to think of her as only his friend.
Hi Hermione,
I was sitting here today just thinking of how much I miss talking with you and Ron. It was funny though how different it is talking to you than to Ron. It's not that I don't like talking to Ron, it's just different. Well, anyway, I've been looking at some horrible programs on the television lately and wondered if you ever had time to look at the telly?
Hedwig loves to run letters, so I often wonder why I don't write more often. What have you been up to lately? Have you been doing anything connected to S.P.E.W.? Don't get me wrong, I still don't understand the point, but seeing as I'm treasurer I owe it to you to do my best to help.
I miss sitting in the library taking the Mickey out of you while you study. Look forward to seeing you at the end of the month.
Hugs to you too,
Harry
He read it over at least a hundred times. For every thing that he hated about it, he found one he liked. At first, he didn't like mentioning S.P.E.W because he knew he didn't really care about it. But after he read it several times, he realized that he had said the right thing. She was his friend and he hadn't resigned from it. He owed her his best effort. The chit-chat about television was mundane and boring, but it gave him a chance to ask her about what she liked. Finally, he decided that it was better than not writing to her at all.
His heart pounded.
He took Hedwig out of the cage and looked at the letter in his hand one more time. He'd written more eloquent letters that he hadn't sent, but he knew this one was the one that made the most sense. He convinced himself to let it go.
"Hedwig," he said quietly as he slid the window open to the midnight air. "Find Hermione and give her this." Hedwig hooted softly as she flew out the window and banked into the wind.
Harry spent the next few nights nervously awaiting a reply that he knew may never come. Had he sounded so much like a friend that Hermione ignored his letter and would just talk to him about it when they saw each other? Or, had he sounded so hypocritical about S.P.E.W. that she took issue with it and refused to write? He worried about where he'd spelled `telly' right? He still didn't know. He wanted her to write back so badly he almost welcomed a nightmare to take his mind off it. He slapped himself for thinking that way.
It was only sixteen days until he went to the Burrow for his birthday. He had his calendar this year marking two days instead of only the start of the school year. He'd never had a proper birthday party. He wondered if anyone knew that or not. Hedwig had not come back, but often she would stay away for days at a time because it seemed as if she knew it made Uncle Vernon happy not to have an owl swooping around their house day in and day out.
Harry heard a clatter at the window. It was Hedwig with a letter. Harry immediately recognized Hermione's handwriting. It was like opening his favorite candy. He wanted all of it at once, but he knew he needed to read slowly or it would be over too fast after all of the anticipation.
Dear Harry,
Thank you so much for writing back. I didn't expect it. I know what you mean about talking to different people. Viktor made me feel so much like a girl that sometimes I can't stand waiting for his next reply. Don't worry I'm not going gaga over a guy who lives thousands of miles away. But I do so love the way I felt when I wasn't just plain old Hermione. Oh, don't take offense Harry. You're much better about that than Ron is.
To answer your questions: we get some of the American shows and occasionally I'll watch bits of those, but I'm not really interested in muggle life so much anymore so they're pretty boring.
You have no idea how happy I was to see you even mention S.P.E.W. and actually put the periods between the letters. Ron seems to think it's funny to use the word spew in almost every sentence that he writes when he talks about something he doesn't like. He's such a prat sometimes. But what are you going to do? You either love them or you leave them. Friends that is, Harry.
I've been studying and rewriting my arithmancy notes from last year. You should do that for some of your classes too, Harry. Don't forget that O.W.L.'s are at the end of the year. Please feel free to write again soon. It was fun to hear from you when you seem so carefree.
Harry, I know that it must be a struggle to act happy about things just for our benefit. We miss you terribly and I hope you are really alright.
Loads of Hugs, (hehe)
Hermione
Harry ran to his trunk and pulled out his quill and wrote feverishly.
Hi Hermione,
It was great to hear from you again. I know what you mean when you say that we get different feelings from different people. It's nice to feel appreciated and welcomed. That's how you and Ron have always made me feel. Maybe I've never thanked you properly, but you make a great deal of difference in my life.
Well, this is just a short note before I go off to sleep. Good night, Hermione. Don't study too hard. Hey, I have a confession. I stole the three knuts that were in the treasury. Don't get the Ministry on me. Just kidding. Miss ya loads.
Hugs,
Harry
P.S. The nightmares are easier when I know you are thinking about me. Harry
Harry fed Hedwig a treat. "Do you mind, girl? Take this back to Hermione as quick as you can, okay?" said Harry.
Hedwig flew away quickly. Harry knew he'd taken a chance, but he felt good about being honest and not measuring his words. He hoped he hadn't sounded stupid.
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