Summer Before Sixth Year

Chapter 1

I sat on the front steps of my house, twiddling my fingers and biting my nails anxiously. What if I failed? I thought. These OWLs were huge, and they had the power to affect what job you can get.

"Hermione, can you please come in? Your supper's getting cold," my mom, Beatrice, called down the hallway at me. I sighed and thought, Well, waiting here won't make the results come faster! So I picked myself up and glumly walked down the hall.

Dinner was a very different meal. My dad, Michael, is a dentist, and so is my mom, but one of Dad's favorite pastimes is learning how to cook. He was more of an experimental cook so tonight he had made parsnip bread and baked carrots. I sat down and started twiddling my fingers again. "What are you doing, dear," Dad asked as he put a big loaf of parsnip bread on the creaky table.

"I'm waiting for the exam results," I muttered as I picked up my fork.

"Hon, twiddling your fingers won't do anything." I stopped twiddling. "And I know as a fact that you will get great marks. Michael, don't you agree?" Mom exclaimed.

"Yes, yes. You are an excellent student and even though I believe that you should carry on the family business, I want you to be happy," he looked around as though someone was spying on us through the windows, "in the wizard world."

I grinned and took a huge bite of parsnip bread. I choked it down, and left the rest untouched, drenching my throat with milk. The carrots were not bad. Actually, they were quite good. "You could sell the recipe to a fancy restaurant and it would be the best thing on the menu," Mom cried.

"It will be a sensation one day! I can see it now: Michael Granger, Dentist and Professional cook!" Dad laughed as I cleared the table.

"Speaking of which, tomorrow night we will be having a few orthodontists over for supper. We are trying to make a deal in which we merge our offices, so you need to be on your best behavior, and please make sure Crookshanks doesn't get into the food again! Be polite, but don't make conversation because that may offend our guests. Just answer nicely, like you usually do," Mom lectured. "It's the same every time we have guests; we warm up to them and then Crookshanks makes a mess." Crookshanks purred as I picked him up.

"Don't worry, Crookshanks will be fine," I assured. Even though Crookshanks had only attacked someone once, it was because she had this abnormally large feather on her already large hat. Not his fault, really. It looked like a squirrel! "Thanks for dinner, Dad. May I be excused?" I asked.

"Certainly," Mom said.

I shut the door of my room. It would be ordinary if it hadn't had my Hogwarts robes hanging on the back of my door and my spellbooks piled on top of my scratched up trunk. I opened my trunk to put the books back in. A scarf, sweater, blouse and skirt were sitting there, collecting dust, along with a wand, some laundry detergent, and a few old S.P.E.W. badges.

Speaking of S.P.E.W., I had kind of given up on that. For two years I had tried to get people to join but no one wanted to. I couldn't understand why they wouldn't want to join, and I half expected to have a huge queue of people lining up to join. It made no sense at all.

I picked up my wand and had a handful of memories come shooting back at me. I was still taking one potion to cure the effects of the spell that nearly killed me. Harry and Ron told me the rest of what I didn't remember. Mostly Ron, I guess, because Harry was all angry and mad about Sirius dying. It actually seemed quite scary.

I heard a knock on the window and I put the stuff away and looked out. There was an old owl out there, his feathers were falling out, he was thin as a post and I knew exactly who it was. I opened the window and cooed, "Don't fret, Errol. I've got you." I ripped the letter off of the Weasley's owl and read it.

Dear Hermione,

I don't know quite what to say, but whatever comes out it's going to be bad.

I wrote Harry and he got really worked up about coming over here, in a bad way. He got so mad at me for daring to mention Sirius, even though I didn't don't think I did at all. I shouldn't be doing this, but here's his letter.

After I wrote that top paragraph, I realized that I forgot all about how you're doing. So, how are you doing? What've you been doing? I've been at home all summer and Fred and George's business has been going really well. For Ginny's birthday, they bought her a Cleansweep NINE!

Back to being nosy. See if you can get anything out of Harry. He's really getting on my nerves.

From,

Ron

P.S. I have a copy of Harry's letter here, if you want it.

I pulled the other piece of parchment from the envelope.

Ron,

Why do you care about Sirius anyway? It's not like you knew him really well, as well as I did, and you were too busy with that brain to help. You were stupid, Ron. You didn't help me when I needed it most, and that is not a sign of a true friend. I'm not facing hate from the Prophet, but you never helped me to stop. So that's why I believe that you aren't a true friend.

I know you don't give a damn, but here's for the record; Hermione is the same.

I stared, hurt, at the last sentence. Why would Harry say that? I didn't think I had done anything to make him mad at me. I frantically searched for a pen and parchment and started to scribble to Ron.

Ron,

That was weird. I don't think we did anything to make him that mad. And it's not your fault that the brain attacked you, and it's not my fault that I got cursed and passed out. Speaking of which, I'm still taking one of those awful potions to cure it.

Anyway, Harry wouldn't have written that. He wouldn't get that mad just because of what you wrote. Maybe you could give me that letter you wrote, I could figure it out once and for all.

Who knows, he could just be in a really bad mood!

Hermione

I packaged that and I decided that if I was to ever get my letter to Harry, I had to do it via Ron.

P.S. Send this letter to Harry, I don't have an owl.

Dear Harry,

How has your summer been? I haven't heard from Ron lately, do you know how he's doing? It's good over here, tomorrow night my parents are having a bunch of orthodontists over for a business meeting and I have to sit there looking pretty. I have had so much time on my hands I've already finished my summer homework, so if you need help you can ask me. Are the Dursleys giving you trouble? Have you gotten your results for OWLs yet?

Please respond, it feels really lonely over here!

Hermione

I packaged the letters up and sent Errol on his way. As soon as Errol left I remembered that last year, people had attacked Hedwig to read one of Harry's letters to Sirius. Now the Death Eaters and Voldemort are out in the open, they may be intercepting mail!

I lay on my bed, leafed through an old copy of Witch Weekly and wondered if my theory was true. If it was, well, we had to act fast, otherwise our correspondence could end. With Crookshanks curled at my feet, I fell asleep.

At breakfast the next morning I wolfed down my porridge and went to wait by the front door of our house, yet again for the mail. As I rushed outside to our mailbox, I tripped over Crookshanks and went hurtling down the stairs. When my fall stopped, I did a quick inventory. I wasn't badly hurt. I limped the rest of the way to the mailbox and then realized my leg was bleeding very badly. Forgetting the mail on the front porch, I scrubbed off my knees and jeans and ran back to get the mail. Bills, bills, an application for Frequent Flyer miles, a new house offer, more bills, and a letter from my parents office. I shuffled down the hall, depressed because I had to wait longer for results. My parents asked me to mow the lawn, so I got out of my jeans and into my shorts and t-shirt.

It was 10:30, and I was already sweating. The neighbors had come by to talk to my parents, and still hadn't left when their daughter came over to say hi. "Hi, Hermione!" Ellie exclaimed. Ellie is 16, my age, and goes to a school in Scotland, and she and I were good friends. "I haven't seen you for the longest time. Where have you been?"

"I just got back about a week ago; I've been waiting for my exam results. What about you?" I asked.

"Me too. What subject do you think you'll do best in for exams?" she said.

"I don't mean to brag, but I'm the top student in the year..." I trailed off. "Really?" she exclaimed. "I'd love to be so smart. My history teachers keep

telling me to study more, even though I do. It's most likely my memory though. Very bad."

There was an awkward silence and something hit the lawn mower. Hard. We jumped and spotted a figure ducking into the bushes. I proceeded to chase the person through the yards, and into the woods. I nearly decided to stop until I heard a voice say my name. "Who is it?" I called, petrified. What if it was a Death Eater? Now that Voldemort was at large, who knows who's trustworthy anymore?

The figure jumped out and grabbed my neck. I kicked at him fiercely, but he just pulled me into a headlock. When I thought nothing could get worse, he pulled out his wand. "Tell me where Harry Potter is!"

I knew he was at the Dursley's, but I couldn't let Harry down. "I... don't... know," I stuttered, gasping for breath. My vision was turning fuzzy, and my head was spinning. "Last time... I saw...him was...Hogwarts," I felt as though my lungs were going to explode.

The man pulled out a small bottle of clear liquid, and I knew right away it was Veritaserum - a potion so powerful that two drops could have you telling your secrets to the world. My brain was not putting two and two together, and my eyes were barely staying open. He dropped me and I landed on my rear end, breathing heavily. Right before I passed out, I saw the man take off his hood so I saw his face. He had a hooknose, sallow skin and dark eyes, and I knew exactly who it was before my vision went black.

Chapter 2

I woke with a start. "It's Snape," I muttered. My head was spinning, and I held onto a tree for support as I stood up on wobbly legs. I have to write to Ron now! I walked dizzily out of the woods and up the hill to my house.

Soon after I got out of the woods, I realized I was a mess. My t-shirt sleeve was ripped, my leg was bleeding, and I had dirt smudged all over my face and arms. I was also becoming aware of the pain in my hands, and realized they were ripped open too. Knowing my parents would kill me, I ran into the house to explain the matter, only to find myself in front of a bunch of orthodontists. Crap! I thought, and tried to stay calm about the matter. "Mr. Brown, Mr. Dobbs, this is my daughter Hermione," my dad said. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was ticked off, so I introduced myself and ran up to my room. Closing the door, I flew across the room and into my trunk to find parchment and a quill to write to Ron.

Ron,

Something really weird just happened. I was mowing the lawn at my parent's house when someone hidden behind the bushes and chucked a rock at me. At first I thought it was just a practical joke, but the person ran away as soon as I looked in their direction.

Naturally, I followed him into the woods. He came out, held me up by the neck, and asked where Harry was! I didn't tell him, obviously, but then he threatened me with Veritaserum and right before I passed out, he took off his hood, and it was SNAPE.

I don't know why, but he obviously was trying to hurt Harry. This is peculiar, Ron. We have to get back to Hogwarts soon or at least in contact with Dumbledore.

The only question is, how?

Hermione

I shook my head furiously, realizing I had no owl, only Crookshanks. He purred when I started to stroke his fur, and then I had an idea. "Hey Crookshanks," I said apprehensively. "Could you take this to Ron for me?"

Crookshanks seemed to say yes, he bounced off the bed and took the letter in his mouth. He seemed to wave goodbye, then jumped out the window and walked into the sunset. Watching him go with a sense of loneliness, I headed for the shower.

I was mostly cleaned up. The cut on my leg wasn't bleeding anymore, but was forming a big bruise. I looked in the mirror and stared. My brown eyes were watering, there were bags underneath them, my nose was still smudged with dirt, and I had a variety of scratches on my face. My bushy hair had been rid of all the leaves and was looking a lot smoother than before. My jeans and polo shirt were cleaner than the rest of me as I began to pull a brush through my brown hair.

Fifteen minutes later I was sitting at the dinner table with my parents and the two orthodontists. "Oh yes, Hermione is a straight A student, Mr. Dobbs," my father bragged. "She goes to an exceptional establishment in the north of Ireland, called... Sterlington Academy." Mr. Dobbs looked approving. On the other hand, Mr. Brown looked like he wanted to retch at the sight of me. I fought the urge to stare him down and bit my tongue.

The rest of the dinner went well, except when Mr. Brown left I accidentally slammed the door on him. "Hermione, why were you late?" my mother asked. I sighed and told them the whole story. Obviously they didn't understand the importance of me getting back to Hogwarts, but they agreed to let me contact Dumbledore.

"We'll notify the proper authorities and this man will be arrested," Dad said.

I responded with a loud, "NO!" and he went silent. "He's a wizard. He's my Potions teacher. I have to talk to my headmaster about this," I added earnestly. "Mugg-... I mean, the police can't do anything about it. It's up to the wizarding world." That settled it as I calmly went up the stairs to my room.

As I continued reading through a Witch Weekly magazine, I was thinking about how to talk to Dumbledore. Crookshanks was gone, delivering something, and I had no owl. What else could I do? As I stared at a picture of Gilderoy Lockhart in his past years, it came to me. Muggle post! But I wouldn't be able to get through to Dumbledore though because he was a wizard.

Then the gears clicked in my head. Dumbledore had once said he had a brother. If I could get the letter to the other Dumbledore, he could get it to his brother and the problem would be solved. I clambered under the covers and fell asleep instantly, my mind with few worries.

That next morning, I set out with a purpose. I had found the address in a phonebook, and it turned out he lived only a little over a kilometer from my own house. "8 Beachwood Lane, 8 Beachwood Lane, remember this," I muttered to myself as I walked up the long hill towards his house. Panting under the hot July sun, I arrived at a cul-de-sac labeled 'Beachwood Lane'. All the houses looked exactly the same, so when I came to number eight, I was very proud of myself.

As I proceeded up the pathway to a slightly dingier house, a feeling of fear overtook me. What if he was not what I expected him to be? I had a mental picture of Dumbledore with a younger face, but when he opened the door I never thought I had seen a more different pair of brothers. Aberforth peered around the door, looked at me oddly and said, "I don't want girl-guide cookies, little missy. I get offers almost every day."

"But Mr. Dumbledore, I'm one of your brothers' students," I told him earnestly. "I need to talk to him."

His eyes looked behind me, and darted like he thought I had a bunch of people spying on him. He pulled me inside and closed the door behind me. The house was very cool and all of the blinds were drawn. I noticed Mr. Dumbledore was wearing his robes, something uncommon out in the Muggle world.

"Have some tea, my dear. You look tired. Who are you?" he asked as he sat me in a chair and summoned up a cup of tea.

"I'm Hermione Granger," I said. He nodded.

"Oh, I've heard of you, all right. My brother talks about how you are abnormally gifted in the brain." I took that as a compliment.

"Anyways, I'm friends, or was friends until yesterday, with Harry Potter. I have an important letter about some very important stuff to give to Dumbledore, but I have no owl. Can you give this letter to him? It's kind of complicated why, but it is really important."

He took it patiently. "Have you ever stopped to think about how important this really is?"

I nodded. I was getting a bit irritated. "It is really important. If you want to know, I'll tell you."

So I told him. When I finished, he gave me a puzzled look. "I see now that your matter is of most desperate importance. I will send this to my brother now. Stay here."

He went into the pantry and came out holding a brown owl with a package tied to its leg. "I'll send this with my gifts. It's his birthday, you know," he told me as he led me to the door.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr. Dumbledore," I commented as I turned to leave. He smiled as the owl flew off, barely missing my ponytail.

"Come back anytime, Miss Granger." As he closed the door on me and I walked back down the walkway, I realized that he did have an uncanny resemblance to his brother. I proceeded back down the hill, and then I noticed a figure cloaked in black dart out of view.