Harry Potter drew an exhausted breath. Like usual, he was sitting in his bedroom, gazing out the window, and watching. Watching for anything, such as a sign that Voldemort was here, on Privet Drive, signs that he was not, signs that Hedwig would return home at last.

He didn't have a clue why Hedwig had been gone for ages. It never took her very long to deliver to Hermione, but then again, maybe Hermione was keeping her for some reason. The only trips Hedwig took to deliver letters that ever took this long were letters Harry'd written to Sirius-

Harry's thoughts froze. Sirius. A lump of sorrow rose in his throat, and it took him a tremendous amount of effort to hold back his tears. Sirius had died fighting Bellatrix Lestrange toward the end of Harry's fifth year. Now everything that had once mattered had lost all meaning. It had only been a week since school had ended, but it felt like a year, without Sirius's clever, fun, or, well, SERIOUS letters to pull Harry through. His friends wrote to him nearly every day, but the letters always contained a lack of subject matter to be found interesting. The letter Harry had recieved today from Ron had to be the worst yet.

Dear Harry,

Hey mate! How're things over with the muggles? I doing fine, thanks, and you'd better be too.

Today Fred and George brought home ten galleons for Mum and Dad. Their swamps are selling really fast, and right now our parlor is full of bullfrogs and mosquitoes. I think it's wicked. Wonder what they'll think of next.

Up to this point, Harry had been enjoying the letter.

Well, I don't have much else to say, other than Hermione and I would like to remind you that nothing that happened in the last month was YOUR FAULT. Quit brooding.

Maybe you will be back on the Quidditch team next year. I was reading Quidditch Through the Ages and found a really wicked play...

And Ron went to great lengths to entertain Harry with the "wicked" play, but Harry had even lost interest in Quidditch. There was no point in trying out again. None.

DING DONG! The doorbell rang. Harry sprang to his feet and grabbed his wand. Not caring what would happen if it was the milkman again, Harry held it out in front of him and ran down the hall then stood cautiously on the stairs' landing, pointing it at the door. Uncle Vernon bustled to the door, frowning. Harry watched him squint through the peephole, then squat down and peer though the mail slot. Harry grinned in spite of himself.

"Who are you?" Vernon bellowed, and Harry tensed. If Unlce Vernon didn't recognize them, they could be anyone. Harry chose a spell in his ming. Stupefy. That might work. Protego. But if there were hundreds of them, or even just a dozen... the death eaters would overpower him in an instant.

The door burst open past Vernon, and Harry felt like shouting. Voldemort had found him at last.

But Voldemort wasn't a fifteen-year-old girl with bushy brown hair.

Hermione Granger marched right past the three Dursleys, all of whom had crowded 'round the doorway, and stood looking around in the living room.

"What the DEVIL are you DOING?!" Vernon roared at the girl, who stood in the living room as if she were looking for something.

"We're here to pick up- HARRY!" Her declaration ended in a squeal of delight, for Harry had joyfully sprang down the stairs, grinning like mad.

Hermione threw herself across the room and into his arms. Her force nearly knocked him over, but Harry kept his balance. Surprised, Harry stared down at her bushy head for a moment, then reluctanly gave her a quick hug back. Never in his life had he been so happy to see Hermione.

Suddenly he froze.

Pushing her off of him, he tried desperately to think of a question only Hermione would know the answer to.

"Which two bottles did we drink from? To step through the fire in first year, to reach the stone?"

Hermione gaped at him for a long moment. Then a flash of understanding passed over her and she grinned. "The smallest ones. They  felt like ice."

Harry relaxed. "Thank Merlin," he whispered. Nowadays, wizards were supposed to ask each other personal questions to ensure indentities were not false. Harry hated the polyjuice potion.

"Why are you here?"

"To take you hone, dear," came a second voice from the front door. Mr. and Mrs. Granger stood together, smiling.

"To your house?"

"Yes!" Hermione exclaimed. "Ron and Ginny too!"

"Excellent!"

"EXCUSE ME!" Vernon finally thundered. "I never invited you to take my nephew-"

"But you want us to, don't you?" Hermione spat. "Because you abuse and neglect him, you slimy scumbag-"

"SILENCE!" Vernon bellowed, and Harry stepped on Hermione's foot in warning, his eyebrows arched in surprise. Stop, right now.

Hermione, however, drew her wand sharply. "What did you say? Just because my parents are muggles doesn't mean I am."

"Top marks in her year," Harry added. "Better witch than I am. I'd be a little nervous if I were you."

"You can't use magic," Dudley jeared, grinning. "You're UNDERAGE!"

Hermione flicked her wand impatiently at him, and gold sparks emitted from the end. "I don't care. In self defense, they wouldn't mind one bit." The sparks sizzled and charred the carpet at her feet. She snuffed them out with her toe, and then smiled brightly at Harry.

"Shall we get your trunk?"

No less than thirty minutes later, Harry was seated comfortably next to Hermione in the Grangers' family car, a spacious blue vehicle with smooth leather seats.

"So?" Hermione said, the second they were rolling down the road. "How've you been?"

"Fine," Harry said quietly.

"Liar," Hermione said, rolling her eyes to her mother's exclamation of surprise. "Well, Mum! He is! You're not fine, and we don't have to discuss it here-" she gave a pointed nod at her parents, "but they know everything that I do."

"I'm fine, okay?" Harry exclaimed, tensing up.

"No you aren't!"

"We'll talk later, alright!" Harry was a bit embarrassed for acting this way in front of the Grangers. He bit his lip, looked away from Hermione and stared out the window. He said nothing more.

Tears welled in Hermione's eyes. Mr. Granger's eyes darted to the rear-view miror and met his daughter's. "Now, Hermione-"

"I'm fine, Dad." Hermione spat.

Mr. Granger couldn't help but smile. "That's what he just said, and you blew up at him. What's the matter with the two of you?"

Mrs. Granger turned around to look at the upset teenagers. Hermione was staring out the window, pretending to be focused on the hedgerows and pastures that were rolling by, but Mrs. Granger could see that her daughter's eyes were blurred. She was deep in thought. Harry, on the other hand, looked... well... the only way Mrs. Granger could describe it was haunted. She didn't know Harry very well, but from what she'd heard, he was remarkably brave, and would do anything to save the life of someone he loved. Mrs. Granger sighed. This was a boy who'd seen and heard too much in his life.

But she was thankful that he was Hermione's best friend.

Finally, after the car had wound through half the streets of Salisbury, the car stopped in the drive of a charming, pale blue house with a large garden full to the brim of roses, petunias, and foxgloves, along with some flowers Harry couldn't name. He grinned.

"Wow, Mr. and Mrs. Granger, your home is beautiful!"

"Thank you, son," said Mr. Granger, dragging the huge trunk out of the back of the car. He then handed Hermione Hedwig's empty cage. "We love getting soil under our fingernails, as you can see."

"Harry! Hermione!" And before Harry had the chance to turn around, he was getting the wind knocked out of him by a blur with long red hair. Ginny was wrapped aroung his middle, much to his surprise. For some odd reason, he felt an unusual drop in his stomach.

"Ginny!" Ron exclaimed, who'd scampered down the lawn with his sister but had restrained himself. "Let him breathe!"

"Oh, we've all been so worried!" Ginny squealed, grinning up at him. "Have you had a good summer?"

Harry gave a dry laugh. "You really think I would?"

Ginny sighed and grabbed the other end of Harry's trunk. "Let me help you."

But Harry hadn't heard her, he was too busy watching Ron and Hermione. It was apparent that the two Weasleys had arrived while the Grangers were picking up Harry from the Dursleys, and Ron was desperately trying to contain himself from hugging her as they talked excitedly. Harry smiled to himself. Ron, you lucky bloke. You're just so obvious.

And as he thought that, Hermione reached out and pulled Ron into a huge hug. Harry was pleased to note it was longer than his. It was obvious that Ron fancied Hermione, and though his suspicions had been aroused, Harry wasn't positive his feelings were reciprocated.

Ron began to twirl Hermione around and she laughed and drew away. "Missed you too," she said, planting a kiss on his cheek.

Ron stopped moving. Ginny laughed out loud. In slow motion, Ron touched his cheek where her lips had just been. However, Hermione was busy welcoming Ginny and didn't see this.

"I hope the house is good for you," Hermione said, huffing and puffing her way up the stairs to the right in the entryway, lugging Ron's trunk, while Ron carried Ginny's. Harry's, as he had no other bag, was by far the heaviest. "Ginny, you'll share my room. Ron and Harry, you get the guest room. Unless, of course, we all want to crowd in mine," she added as a cheery afterthought. Then she turned around and winked at them.

She threw open the door on the first left. "This is the bathroom. One of the three, at least." She dragged the trunk a little farther, and kicked open the door next to the bathroom. "Ron, Harry, here's your room."

All three guests leaned in to look inside. "Oh," Ginny whispered, her eyes shining. The room was beautiful. A large, comfy, oak four-poster sat before them, with a snug ivory comforter on top. The fluffy pillows were hidden behind a few green decorative pillows. The walls were ragged with a rich emerald, and a tall oak dresser stood in the corner. Like the other rooms Harry had seen, it was snuggly decorated and was traditionally styled.

The four of them dragged in and abandoned Harry and Ron's trunks, then trooped down, still dragging Ginny's, the hall to Hermione's room.

On the door was a shining brass plaque, reading Miss Hermione Granger. She gently opened the door and Harry barely had time to register movement from within when a bushy tailed ginger cat shot through the open door.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione called. "Sweetums, no need to be afraid. Look! It's Harry and Ron! And Ginny! Remember?"

Crookshanks gave Ron a look of deep mistrust and eyed Harry and Ginny each in turn. Then, tail held high, he marched back to Hermione's room and curled up in the cat bed in the corner, as though it had all been an act, and yes, he'd meant to run terrified from the room like a maniac.

"It's... it's really nice," said Harry with a stab of jealousy, thinking of his own bedroom.

Hermione's room had walls of gentle lavender. The bed was another four-poster, only the wood was painted white. The bedspread was a whimsical purple with spirals and swirls of plum and white splashed across it. In the corner was a tall bookcase crammed with books, most of them very thick and pompus-looking. A desk across from the bed was buried beneath rolls of parchment, bottles of ink, and quills, though the mess was a neat one. Picture frames and a shining brass lamp formed a horseshoe along the edge of the desk. On closer inspection, Harry saw both muggle and wizarding photos, and the four of them stepped over to take a closer look. One of the pictures was of the trio studying, all of them looked completely stressed. Harry noticed an abundance of photos from second year, most likely thanks to Colin Creevey. But one of them drew attention to Harry in particular. He lifted the frame gently at Hermione's nod of approval, and stared.

It was a photo of the three of them sitting in silence of the common room couch. Harry had his head in his hands. Hermione was reading aloud from the Daily Prophet, looking very upset. Ron was listening to her read with his head leaning back against the couch, his eyes closed. None of them seemed to be aware the picture was being taken. Harry gently flipped over the photo and saw a date scrawled on a bit of parchment taped to the frame. It was the day they'd been released from the hospital wing. By the time this picture was taken Sirius had already-

"Who took that?" Ron whispered.

"Dennis. I thought it came out quite lovely, actually, even though we were very sad." Hermione said softly. There was a moment's tribute to Sirius where the four of them stood in utter silence.

Ron's eyes were lingering on the photo-Hermione as she read angrily. Ginny smirked. Harry glanced over at her, but when he tried to catch her eye she stared blatantly at the picture, never looking at him.

He looked away, and heard her smirk again. She caught his eye, nodded her head at her brother, and she and Harry shared a secret smile.

It was nice, really, spending time with the youngest Weasley. She was a pleasent girl. His stomach squirmed again at the thought. A very pleasent girl, his mind said before he'd had a chance to work out the feeling.

"Darlings," came a gentle voice, and Harry turned to see Mrs. Granger standing in the doorway. She had straight, slightly layered dirty blonde hair, and was wearing a pink blouse, denim capris, and a congenial smile. "Don't mean to interupt, but tea is ready in the living room if you'd like some."

"Thanks, Mum," Hermione said, and the four of them scampered back downstairs and settled in. As Harry poured himself a steaming cup of tea and added a good amount of sugar and cream, he thought about Hermione's family and the environment she'd grown up in. It was so different from what he was used to. So positive and loving, the complete opposite of the Dursleys. Why couldn't somebody take that away from this house, and put it in #4, Privet Drive? A wave of jealousy hit him, followed by an even bigger wave of shame and guilt. His face burned, and his insides writhed. How could that have even crossed his mind? He would never, not in a million years, take Hermione's family away from her.

Ron and Ginny, meanwhile, were looking around the living room happily, eyeing the television with interest. Hermione laughed softly, and stood up, crossed the room, and pressed 'POWER'. The television flashed on, much to the Weasleys' delight.

"Suspiscion was aroused yesterday at the local prison, where a group of young men were found-" Click. Hermione flicked the channel, and Harry caught a split-second's view of a couple kissing on the screen before Hermione made a disgusted face and turned the telly off.

"We'll watch something later," Hermione mumbled, staring into her swirling tea. She looked thoughtful, and it wasn't until Ginny asked what was wrong for the sixth time that she responded.

"I was just thinking-" but she stopped, shrugged her sholders, and fell silent.

Harry and Ron exchanged a raised-eyebrow look.

"Would you like to go swimming?" She finished.

"Swimming?" Ginny repeated. "Sure!"

And so that was that, and the four of them were pulling on bathing suits and smothering on sunblock an hour later. The sun was shining brilliantly, and it was an unusually warm day.

"No rain today," Ron commented as Ginny rubbed sunblock into his back.

"Urgh," Ginny said disgustedly. "This is so greasy. Mum always used a sort of charm that bounced off sunrays. We never tanned very easily with that stuff, though." She rubbed the excess onto her own shoulders and stood up, sliding on her shoes. "Not like I would anyway, with this ridiculously pale complexion of mine. Alright, we're ready."

"Hermione!" Ron hollered, and she came bounding into the room. She had been cleaning up after tea, and had insisted on doing it herself. She was running behind the others.

"Wicked," Ron whispered when he saw her. Harry grinned. Hermione was wearing a modest two-piece bathing suit, colored with warm oranges and reds with black silhouettes of plam trees. The warm colors added to Hermione's skin tone, making her seem about a shade or two darker.

Hermione bossily threw one of the four towels under her arm to each of them, and then she and Ginny wrapped them about their waists. Harry and Ron threw theirs over their shoulders.

"MUM!" Hermione bellowed, making Harry jump. "We're leaving!"

Mrs. Granger bustled down to see the foursome off, looking concerned. "Hermione, you know the rules. Be home by half-past three, and make sure that you don't get burned, Ginny and Ron, you two have such fine complexions-"

"As I was just saying-" Ginny grumbled to nobody in particular. Harry grinned.

"-And cut through the O'Learys' garden on the way home. They don't mind and I don't want you walking where Death Eaters can see you," Mrs. Granger finished worriedly.

Hermione nodded, rolling her eyes, and the four were off.