Love, Hermione

A/N: Yes, it’s me again. And, no, I have not forgotten about Worst Summer. It’s just in queue. I’ve had this idea for a while (seems like I always start a story this way- I honestly don’t mean to, but it’s true) and I really wanted to go ahead and write this. This takes place the year after Book 7, and I didn’t have Harry, Hermione, or Ron go back to finish Hogwarts. So I guess they are working in their respective fields. You’ll probably have some questions after reading this (actually, you should!) but you will find out in due time. Not as bad of a cold open as Worst Summer, but I’m letting the premise unfold as I go along. So, that’s the best summary I can give you I’m afraid : ( Once I get up the next chapter you’ll have a better understanding of the story and I can give more away. Hope you enjoy!

Sun streamed in the dusty windows of the tiny flat, landing on the varnished wood underfoot. She paced back and forth very slowly, softly wringing her hands. Eyes lost and faraway, she gazed at the sparkling beams, particles of dust floating in the sunlight. A sigh escaped the woman’s lips and she retreated to the bed, gingerly sitting on the coverlet and smoothing out the edges.

Her fingers glided across the orange and white, tracing the patterns on the quilt. She watched her hand dance across the fabric, stopping suddenly when a glint caught her eye. Spreading her fingers across the palm of her other hand, she watched as sparkling rainbows bounced about the adjacent wall, twinkling prisms triggered by the light of the sun. Another sigh.

Twisting the metal band around her finger, she finally shifted her gaze to the hanging calendar on the wall: June 25, 1999. Today was the day, or so she had been told. Maybe he wouldn’t go through with it, but more than likely he would. Choices had been made; she had made hers, and he did the same. Maybe he thought it was over. But did that mean it was too late?

She glanced at the bedside table, running her eyes over the meticulously organized objects that graced its surface. An ornate desk lamp set on the corner, next to a pile of neatly stacked books- each one read at least a dozen times. Among them were A Winter’s Tale, Moste Potente Potions, Elves are People Too, Magical Me with a get well card wedged inside, The Tales of Beedle the Bard, and Hogwarts, a History- whose pages had been turned more than any other.

An antique hourglass rested on the opposite corner, a birthday gift from several years before. The gold was slightly tarnished and it had lost some of its sand, but she treasured the outmoded bauble despite its many flaws. Behind it stood a wooden picture frame, a black and white photo positioned flawlessly behind the glass. Three figures were smiling and waving at her, the fourth one nowhere to be found.

Usually the moving portrait contained two boys and two girls, but the redheaded female was gone. The woman spotted herself in the picture, a much happier version of her current self, and watched as her tiny black and white hands wrapped around the waist of one of the boys.

After staring at the tiny square for longer than she could bear, the woman clenched her jaw and stood swiftly, straightening her back and allowing the rest of her body to go tense. Swiveling to face the bed, she glanced across to the other side, her eyes briefly landing on the cluttered end table, surrounded by a heap of dirty undergarments.

Pushing the image out of her mind, she bent down to the dust ruffle, carefully reaching for something beneath the curtain of fluttering black. Her hands eventually wrapped around a bundle of dusty cardboard, dragging it to the surface with great effort. Heaving the heavy box onto the bed, she exhaled a small grunt of frustration before wiping the perspiration from her brow.

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she tentatively opened the crinkled flaps, covered in a layer of thick, white powder. Sprinkles of the snowy residue wafted into the air, causing the woman to crinkle her nose and turn away, covering her mouth with her sleeve. Two sneezes later, she returned her gaze to the dusty parcel, yet another sigh making its presence known.

Inside the box were stacks upon stacks of letters, some yellowed with age, others crisp and smudged. A sad smile spread across the woman’s lips as she reached for the topmost envelope, cradling it in her hands for fear of adding to its wrinkles. Bringing the folded parchment to her nose, she breathed in the familiar scent, sending chills down her spine as she started to open the letter.

She ran her index finger beneath the crease, stained with time and dampness. Removing the parchment from its vessel, she unfolded the letter and drifted to the bed, sinking into the comforter as she read:

Dear Harry,

A/N: I know it was short, but I wanted to just put this little introduction out to see what happens. The next few chapters will probably be longer. I will go ahead and say that there won’t be very much dialogue in this fic, but the descriptions won’t be as tedious either. Actually, the descriptions are pretty much over : P This was basically the background chapter, and I have something a little different in store for the rest of this work. Hope you liked it! Looking forward to reviews.

lilymione1203

A/N: This chapter is MUCH longer and in the same day! Look at that! Haha. Haven’t gotten many reviews, but I’m not discouraged. I’m really liking where this is going- I hope you enjoy : )

September 8, 1991

Dear Harry,

Hi! You may not remember me, but we met on the train- The Hogwarts Express, to be exact. I didn’t know if you frequently traveled by way of steam engine, so I thought I would clarify, just in case. I mean, I figured you hadn’t ridden on a train since the Hogwarts Express, (obviously, where would you be going?) but I don’t like to leave anything to chance.

Anyway, my name’s Hermione Granger- I’m in your house and we actually have all the same classes (I wasn’t sure if you noticed). I, myself, have noticed that you and your friend- Weatherby, is it? The tall, red-haired boy that is always hovering around, are always late to class- Transfiguration, in particular. I was wondering if you would like me to accompany you, because I have already learned the basic pathways around the castle.

You see, during the evenings I have been practicing the Gryffindor first year route- I have even etched out a fairly dependable map. I know Professor McGonagall has been giving you a hard time, and I thought I could be of service. It’s hard being a first year, and I can see where it would be on you especially, considering your remarkable background. At any rate, I hope to hear from you!

Sincerely,

Hermione Granger

Laying the wrinkled letter down beside her, Hermione smiled, the tiniest of teardrops rolling down her cheek. She remembered all too well her first week at Hogwarts, and how much she shook that warm September night each time her quill dipped for more ink.

She was so nervous, in fact, that the letter never got delivered- nor did the rest that remained in the old, tattered box. Hermione recalled in electrifying detail the eve of September 8: creeping to the owlery on the brink of curfew, feeling the odd sensation of robes billow softly around her, the roughness of the parchment against the palm of her tiny hand, the eerie feeling that she was being watched.

She also remembered being surrounded by shuffling feathers and curious hoots, echoing across the grounds and into the Forbidden Forest. The stars were bright, but the moon was nowhere to be seen, and a chill in the air cut through her body like a knife. Her eyes darted around in a panic, and she remembered second guessing herself:

What if he rejects me? What if he doesn’t want my help? I’m just a nobody, he won’t want me showing him around the castle. I’ve only been here a week, what more do I know about this place than he does? He and Weatherby will just laugh at my letter. I can’t bear anyone else making fun of me.

Bringing her eyes back into focus, Hermione shook her head slightly as the image of an 11-year-old girl with bushy brown hair slowly faded from view, retreating back to the castle with robes clutched tight, letter in hand.

She took a deep breath and reached back inside the box, lifting a bundle of letters with her primitive handwriting scribbled on the front. Although not what it is today, compared with “Weatherby’s,” her childhood handwriting was considered calligraphy.

One by one, Hermione opened each letter, reading the thoughts of her past as she remembered the dread and anguish of delivering every envelope. Failing had always been her biggest fear, and rejection from another human being was one of its scariest forms. Rather than discarding the personal letters that accumulated over the years, she had decided to keep them; maybe one day, she thought, they would finally reach their recipient.

September 12, 1991

Dear Harry,

I think you left a quill behind in potions today- you were in quite a hurry to get out of there. Professor Snape does seem a bit, mean, doesn’t he? I’m sure it’s just a scare tactic he uses to make sure the students study hard and pay attention. I don’t think he has some sort of personal vendetta against you. Honestly, what are the odds of that? After all, potions is a very dangerous subject, and if you’re not paying utmost attention you could get seriously injured, or killed!

Anyway, I have your quill if you need it; I know you probably think it’s silly that I’m putting it in a letter of all things! But, I can’t seem to get the chance to speak to you in private. Or just in person, not really “in private”- I just mean face to face. We could meet in the common room sometime and I could give it to you, or perhaps after class? Anytime is fine with me. Good luck with flying lessons, I’m a nervous wreck. You’ll probably be brilliant at it.

Sincerely,

Hermione Granger

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September 15, 1991

Dear Harry,

Please, I beg of you, don’t go through with the duel tonight. Malfoy is such a git, you don’t have anything to prove to anyone. If people can’t see you for who you really are, not some novelty to be gawked at in the corridors, but a genuinely kind and normal human being (as far as wizards go) then they aren’t worth it. Please don’t do this, Harry. If you’re so worried about what others think, what do you suppose they’ll say when they hear about all the trouble you’ve gotten into? I’m not trying to be bossy, I’m just concerned about your well being. Even though we’ve only spoken a handful of times, I do consider you a friend. I care about you, Harry.

By the way, even though it was extremely dangerous and you shouldn’t have done it and it was incredibly childish and stupid, I thought you were amazing on that broomstick. You’re going to be quite the Quidditch star someday.

Sincerely,

Hermione Granger

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September 16, 1991

Dear Harry,

I hate to say I told you so, but I told you so. Why did you go through with that duel? Things could have turned out so much worse, you should be thankful we escaped unscathed. I bet Malfoy is having the time of his life right now- is that what you wanted?

I’m sorry for being so harsh with you, I just didn’t want you to get hurt. Or Ron, I guess. Although I think a detention may have done him some good. I shouldn’t have ended the night in a huff, and I hope you forgive me. I know snapping at you only made matters worse, and I do apologize. I wonder what that three-headed dog is guarding…

In any case, I hope we can move past all this and remain friends. Perhaps we can discuss theories about the dog?

Sincerely,

Hermione Granger

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September 19, 1991

Dear Harry,

I know you haven’t spoken to me since “the duel,” and I am very, very sorry for the way things turned out, but I was wondering if you would like to join me in the common room for a bit of cake?

You see, today is my twelfth birthday, and it’s not that I expected anyone to necessarily wish me a happy birthday, after all we’ve only been here less than three weeks, I hardly know anyone! But it’s sort of lonely being away from my parents and all, and my dorm-mates (Parvati and Lavender) don’t seem to notice me much. My mum sent me some cake (first parcel by owl, can you believe it?) and it’s far too much for one person, so I thought I would share. Ron can come if it’s absolutely necessary, but if he’s busy that’s quite alright.

I’ve come up with some trapdoor theories if you’re interested, each one more improbable than the last! Oh, and don’t worry about getting me a present (not that you were), this is strictly two friends sharing birthday cake, which just happens to be on my birthday. I know yours is July 31- I hope you don’t think it’s terribly creepy that I know this; it’s just one of those random facts from a textbook I remember.

Hope you can come! And I’m REALLY sorry about the other night.

Sincerely,

Hermione Granger

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September 24, 1991

Dear Harry,

I heard the strangest rumor about you today! I know we still haven’t spoken for a while, but you do know I’m sorry, don’t you? I really wish we could keep ‘the incident’ behind us. At any rate, I overheard at the breakfast table today that you made the House Quidditch team! That’s amazing! You must be the youngest player in over a hundred years! (I’ll admit I had to look that up, but it’s still very impressive).

I know you’ve been training for a few weeks now, but I just got wind of the news this morning. I bet your parents would be really proud of you, Harry. I know I am. I’ve never actually seen a game of Quidditch, but it seems very fascinating. I’m sure it was difficult for you to learn all the rules so quickly! I can’t imagine having to learn the fundamentals of something and then applying them right away. That takes true talent. Looking forward to your first match, I know you’ll be brilliant.

Sincerely,

Hermione Granger

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October 3, 1991

Dear Harry,

It’s been ages since we’ve spoken, and I feel like I don’t even get to see you anymore. Can’t you forgive me? I suppose you’ve been busy with Quidditch practices, and I just wanted to let you know I snuck a peek at one. If that’s against the rules, please don’t tell. I haven’t read anywhere that you’re not allowed to observe the pitch while practices are being held, but that may be some unspoken rule I’m not aware of. If it is, please keep that under your hat. I guess this makes us even for “the duel” incident, then!

I just wanted to let you know what a great flyer you are, Harry. I really envy your talent on a broomstick. That’s one thing that no matter how hard you try, you can’t learn from a book. And believe me, I’ve tried. I’m sure if you saw me on a broom you’d be in stitches! Maybe you could teach me how to fly sometime; you know, the proper way. Textbooks really aren’t a good source of ‘hands on’ learning, otherwise what would we need professors for? We would simply learn everything from the text!

Anyway, I wouldn’t be nervous about your upcoming match, I’m sure you’ll do exceptionally well. I’m open for a flying lesson anytime, if you’re interested. It would be much appreciated.

Sincerely,

Hermione Granger

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October 14, 1991

Dear Harry,

It’s been nearly a month since we’ve spoken last, and it’s really bothering me. Harry, I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I’m sorry for what I said and I’m even sorry I tried to stop you! Just please talk to me. I haven’t made very many friends here; actually, I haven’t made any. You’re the closest thing I’ve got to companionship and you and Ron won’t even look at me. I can’t eat or sleep anymore- all of this is tearing me apart.

Everyone makes fun of me because I know all the answers- I can’t help it if I read ahead! I don’t want to come off as desperate, but at this point I don’t really care. Please forgive me for being a ‘know-it-all’ or ‘bossy’ or ‘rude’- I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. No one here seems to like me and I cry myself to sleep at night. I wouldn’t tell anyone this, but I don’t know what else to do. You’re very popular and I thought at one time we were friends- I really like you and I think you have outstanding potential as a wizard. I would really cherish our friendship if you allowed it to blossom. Please, please talk to me.

-Hermione Granger

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October 30, 1991

Dear Harry,

The other day Professor Flitwick mentioned we’d be working with partners in Charms. I know we’ve had our differences in the past, but I was wondering if you would like to be my partner? I figure you will probably choose Ron, but his incantations could really use some practice. I’ve noticed you’re struggling a bit with the homework, and I thought this would be a good opportunity to help. It’s not that you’re not trying or doing a good job, I bet you’re just occupied with Quidditch practices. I think I’ve got this particular chapter down pat, and I would love to be of assistance. Let me know if you’re available!

Sincerely,

Hermione Granger

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November 1, 1991

Dear Harry,

I can’t thank you enough for saving my life- it was the least I could do to take the blame. I’m so glad we’re speaking again! You have no idea how this little spat has affected me. I got you a little something to show my gratitude, it isn’t much, but I think you’ll like it.

It’s a copy of Quidditch Through the Ages- it’s the complete history of the game and all the facts and stats a seeker such as yourself needs to be familiar with. Well, perhaps not ‘need’, but I think you’ll enjoy it. I’m really looking forward to your first Quidditch match- I know you’ll be spectacular!

Perhaps you could teach me to fly the proper way sometime; I’m the worst when it comes to handling a broomstick. And as for Halloween, I owe you my life, Harry, and I would do anything for you.

Love,

Hermione

As she read the closing of the letter, she noticed her valediction had changed from Sincerely to Love, marking the first of many to come. Her signature, now simply Hermione, indicated true friendship in her twelve-year-old eyes, and the last line held true to this very day.

A/N: A bit sad in parts, wasn’t it? I didn’t realize SS was that depressing the first few months for Hermione, lol! Anyway, hope you liked, and I’ll have another one up shortly. Let me know what you think!

Okay, so I know it’s been a WHILE since I’ve updated…and that’s putting it mildly. I’ve had this part written out for ages and for some reason didn’t upload. Well, actually, RL got in the way and I really got out of writing and had personal relationship issues; let’s just say if I’d finished this six months ago Harry and all the male characters would have ended up drunk, gay, or dead. Not particularly a portkey-compliant ending. At any rate, I really wanted to have ALL of the year 1992 on here but I’m afraid I’ll have to break it up into smaller segments- because let’s face it people a LOT of shit went down in some of those books and that would be like a 20,000 word chapter. Soooooo….hope you enjoy and I’ll try to update more regularly (is that a phrase?) although I can’t do it like clockwork like some of these other authors can. HOW DO YOU DO THAT by the way?? Anyway, feel free to leave a review, unless you’re mean. And if you ARE mean go hold your head underwater for 30 min and then leave a review. Enjoy : )

Setting the letter down on the pile, Hermione looked at the clock- 9:13. After a quick glance at the ceiling she returned to the box, filled with forgotten feelings and requests. It was only a matter of time before it happened; she had to read quickly.

Reaching her hand beneath the coarse flaps, she felt around for another stack, startled by a sudden prick in her finger. Hermione jerked her hand out of the box and nursed the throbbing wound, delicately lowering her other hand back into the danger zone. Cold metal pierced her skin, and she gently picked up the mysterious object for examination.

She smiled down at her hands, cradling the treasure with quivering fingers. Hermione tilted her head to the side, running an index finger across its surface as the smile faded from her lips. Sunlight glinting off the edges, she watched her fingers skate along the chiseled exterior, losing herself in thought. Hastily pocketing the item, she grabbed another stack and tore the letter from its envelope, her eyes darting back and forth across the page:

December 19, 1991

Dear Harry,

Oh, how I miss you already! I really didn’t want to leave Hogwarts for Christmas (the castle really does look lovely, doesn’t it?), but I already promised my parents I’d come home for the holidays, and they do miss me terribly. It’s nice being home, but I find myself marking the days till I’m back at Hogwarts again! What’s more frustrating than anything is that I have no resources whatsoever to research Nicholas Flamel. You are continuing the search, I expect? I’ve rummaged through a few muggle texts, but (quite obviously) was unable to find anything useful.

We put up our Christmas tree today, a tiny six-footer we’ve kept in the attic for ages. It’s nearly got more dust than needles! Hope your break is going well- don’t forget about that history of magic essay due at the start of term. I would’ve had mine finished by now, but Nicholas Flamel keeps popping up in the back of my mind. I still haven’t decided what to get you for Christmas (I know I haven’t much time left), but you are quite the difficult wizard to buy for. Actually, I’ve never bought a wizard a Christmas gift. But I suppose last Christmas you weren’t even a wizard! Well, technically, you’ve always been a wizard but you didn’t know you were and—I’m rambling, aren’t I? Point is, I simply can’t decide what to get you. And Ron, of course, but I suppose anything edible will suffice. Why must this be so difficult!

I promise it won’t be anything too extravagant or expensive; I don’t expect anything of that sort. Anyway, I hear my mum calling to head out to the shops. Keep searching for Flamel! I miss you.

Love,

Hermione

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December 25, 1991

Happy Christmas, Harry! I wish I could be there to spend the holidays with you lot; it’s rather dull here, I’m afraid to report. A Granger Christmas is a wonderfully traditional one. I do love spending time with my family, but there is a sort of ‘pull’ that I can’t quite describe making me miss Hogwarts more and more each day. I think I’ll request to stay behind next year for the holidays; I already don’t know what I’m going to do over the summer!

Or perhaps next year you could stay at the Grangers’ for Christmas? From what I understand it was a bit of a fluke that Ron and his brothers stayed behind this year, and I imagine the castle would be awfully lonely. I’ve told mum and dad all about you, and they simply can’t wait to meet you in person. They were quite impressed with your slaying of that dreadful troll, and can’t thank you enough for saving my life. I’m sure a few holidays spent here would more than make up for your act of chivalry! That is, of course, if the Dursleys don’t mind. I’m not sure how we’d go about arranging this, but we do have an entire year to think about it!

I hope you enjoy your chocolate frogs- I saw the pile of wrappers next to you on the train, and guessed that they might be your favorite. If not, I’m terribly sorry, and I’m sure Ron would be more than happy to take them off your hands. I suppose I’ll have to replace them with another sweet…

I know candy is hardly a personal Christmas gift, but I was out for hours with my mum and simply couldn’t make a decision; next year I’m asking for a list! I hope you’ll at least think of me when you eat them, although once they’re gone you won’t have a reason to. I knew I should have gone with something that wasn’t edible! I’m just teasing- enjoy your chocolate. I hope to hear from you soon; I’ve been glued to the windowsill for nearly a week searching the sky for owls!

Love,

Hermione

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January 1, 1992

Dear Harry,

Happy New Year! I feel as though it’s been ages since we’ve spoken, did you forget you own an owl? Sorry to be a bit harsh- it’s just that I’ve just been cooped up in the muggle world for a couple of weeks. Funny how four months ago this life was all I knew, and now I can hardly stand it. I hope you and Ron are doing well- no more midnight duels, I take it?

I hardly watch the telly anymore- clearly not at Hogwarts because of the electronic restrictions- but I did watch the ball drop in Times Square. I think it would be absolutely breathtaking to witness the start of a new year in New York. I’ve never been one for crowds, but something…magical…seems to take place there at midnight. I suppose I’m just being silly, but I never did get my new year’s kiss.

Keep up the search for Flamel! I know we’ll figure it out eventually- I’m bound and determined to discover his identity as soon as I set foot in the castle. You mark my words! At any rate, just thought I’d send an owl to see if you lot were still breathing; I can’t say I’m not a little disappointed that I didn’t even get a ‘Happy Christmas’ card. I wasn’t expecting any gifts- honest- but I would have liked to have heard from you. Happy New Year, Harry.

Love,

Hermione

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Stuffing the letter back in its envelope, she swiftly brushed a hand beneath her eye, removing the tears that clung to her lashes. After a deep breath, she slowly opened her eyes and reached for the pile, stopping short when she saw something other than yellowed parchment. She delicately fingered the trimmed satin and lace, tracing the edges adorned in blushing pink. Gingerly pinching the corner, she set the frilly object in her lap, staring at hours of fruitless labor.

A smitten twelve-year-old Hermione had handcrafted a paper heart, teeming with reds and pinks and ribbons and bows- so unlike her personality. It was the epitome of all things feminine, and Harry certainly would have gotten the message that Hermione was, indeed, a girl if he had received this on St. Valentine’s Day.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and lost herself in nostalgia, watching the swirly calligraphy continue to write across the crinkled heart, still inscribing its poem after all these years:

Harry,

Mandrakes are red,

Wolfsbane is blue,

Do you fancy me as much as I you?

You’ve got me roped

Like the Devil’s Snare vine,

Would you be my Valentine?

Love, Hermione

She snorted at her attempt at romantic literature, thanking Merlin that never got sent. Harry and Ron would have had a field day with that mushy little card, especially as immature first years- or second, or third, or seventh…she thought with a smirk.

Hermione remembered when Ginny sent Harry a similar valentine, following the poor bloke around the corridors and singing for all to hear. She grinned evilly at the thought, recalling how much Harry had hated it, but the smile vanished as soon as it appeared when her thoughts returned to today. Perhaps she should have sent it after all, look where it got Ginny…

She shook her head at the thought, casting the tattered heart aside and picked up another letter:

February 23, 1992

Dear Harry,

I have a lot to say at the moment, and although you may think it’s odd I’m sending it to you in a letter rather than cornering you in person, it seems we are never without the company of a certain red headed friend of ours…

Be that as it may, PLEASE, Harry, I beg of you, do not play in the Quidditch match on Saturday! It was such a close call the last time with Snape in the stands, I can’t bear to imagine what’s going to happen with him on the pitch! I know you are the bravest wizard in our year by far, but you DON’T have to go through with this. I am very concerned for your safety and well-being, and if anything ever happened to you, well- I, I don’t know what I would do.

As for the Mirror of Erised, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING SNEAKING OUT AT SUCH LATE HOURS!?!? There, you knew it was coming, I just had to say it. Seriously, Harry, it was a very dangerous thing to do. House points aside, there’s no telling what else is lurking in this castle apart from a three-headed dog. You’re just a magnet for danger, aren’t you? Or trouble, and I’m not sure which is worse. I hope this letter doesn’t sound too condescending, I realize you were only looking for research materials concerning Flamel. Little did we know you should have simply turned to my Christmas present!

On a serious note, I think it would be lovely to see your family, although if I looked in the mirror I would be unable to see that. I do wonder what it would show me, though- matters of the heart are clearly not my greatest strength. But I am curious…

However, Dumbledore did say it was rather dangerous, so this is not an invitation to traipse me throughout the castle to find it. Not that you would, but you seem to be drawn to adventure- specifically of the late variety. If we do ever happen to come across it again, though, I think I would like a peek. I wonder who- or what, rather- would be displayed if I were to step in front of it? I hope it’s not something terribly selfish; I think Ron’s vision was a tad self-centered. Head Boy and Quidditch Captain? I believe I know someone who’s quite a bit better suited for those positions, and he’s currently reading this letter.

Love,

Hermione

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May 3, 1992

Dear Harry,

Are you certain you are alright? Our rendezvous in the Forbidden Forest was very frightening, especially for you- do you want to talk about it? Ron doesn’t seem to understand the implications of what you witnessed; for heaven’s sakes, he can’t even say Voldemort’s name! I’m sure everything will turn out alright, Dumbledore doesn’t seem to be too awfully worried and the Stone is perfectly safe. I wish you’d quit worrying about it and try and concentrate on the upcoming exams. I’d be more than willing to help you study, if you like.

As for our detention, I’m not afraid to admit I was scared. The only thing keeping me from shaking was when you held my hand, and when you gave it a tight squeeze I knew I was safe. I think I was more frightened, however, when you were paired up with Malfoy, and I didn’t know where you were. I did my best to keep Neville from nearly wetting himself, but I couldn’t help but worry about you. I wouldn’t have been surprised if Malfoy had shoved you into some sinister forest-dwelling creature and ran. Actually, that sounds fairly close to what happened. Someday I’d like to hex the smirk right off his pointed little face.

This may sound odd, but I wonder how Norbert is getting on? Charlie’s mates were so friendly, do you think they might send a status report? At least to Hagrid, I know he’s been taking his absence rather hard. For some reason I don’t think this is the last bizarre creature we’ll deal with from the likes of Hagrid…

Anyway, I know you’re having a difficult time dealing with the wrath of the school- everyone seems to be giving you the cold shoulder for losing all those house points. It’s been difficult for me as well, but considering only a handful of students even know who I am, the brunt of all the ridicule seems to lay with you. I’m so sorry you have to go through this, Harry- I know what it’s like being isolated from the general public. Just remember that we’re in this together, and I’ll stand by you no matter what- forever and always. I’m here for you, Harry.

Love,

Hermione

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June 10, 1992

Dear Harry,

There has never been a more difficult moment in my entire life than when I had to walk away from you, knowing full and well that you were facing the most dangerous evil this world has to offer. Of course I was concerned for Ron’s well being, but merely laying unconscious is entirely different from fighting Lord Voldemort! Alone! In the depths of a forbidden corridor of the castle!

I was worried sick about you the whole time, doing my best to tend to Ron’s injuries while trying not to vomit. There were so many things I wanted to say to you before you passed through the wall of fire, but there was no time. If I had lost you, I would regret not telling you how wonderful you truly are. People have such high expectations for the great Harry Potter, ‘The Boy Who Lived’, and you exceed every single one of them. You are kind, humble, intelligent, talented, and charming, and I consider it an honor to be your friend.

You’ve been out cold for two solid days, and I can’t stop thinking about you. I really hope you’re not seriously hurt, that would be simply dreadful. I’ll try not to think about it. I sent you five boxes of chocolate frogs- surely that will put the bounce back in your step! The entire castle has been talking about your acts of bravery- you’re quite the hero, Harry. But then again, you’ve always been my hero. Even before Halloween.

Get well soon!

Love,

Hermione

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June 15, 1992

Dear Harry,

One day away from Hogwarts and I’m already going mad! I miss you terribly, and Ron, of course, and am so excited for the new school year. I’ve just started on all our homework for the holidays and it isn’t nearly as complicated as I thought it would be. We should study together sometime, that is, if we could arrange some sort of get-together!

Mum and Dad are so excited to meet you, we’d just love it if you’d stay a week or two. We could use conventional muggle methods to stay in touch- I’ve tried explaining to Ron what a ‘fellytone’ is and it’s very difficult to keep from laughing. And he thinks we’re barking…

At any rate, this is my phone number: 555-555-5555. Any time you have homework questions, or simply want to chat, just give me a ring! My parents could call the Dursleys if you like and we can arrange for your visit, if you want to come. I understand if you’re busy or your aunt and uncle won’t allow it, but I do hope you’ll say yes. I suppose Ron could stop by as well, but I’m afraid he’d tear his hair out for the lack of magic. I must say I am curious to the daily routine at the Burrow.

So, think it over and send me an owl (or I suppose you could call!) as soon as you can. Enjoy your holiday in the meantime. Looking forward to hearing from you!

Love,

Hermione

p.s.- Wasn’t the look on Malfoy’s face at the End of Term Feast priceless? Dumbledore is a saint

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