Sincerely, Harry James Potter

Chapter 2

Hermione apparated into the front hallway of number 12 Grimmauld Place and looked around the brightly painted hallway. She recalled a time when the house had been the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. For the first year the slightest noise would cause a portrait that had been hung on the wall to scream and curse and hurl epithets at people. Even though that had been almost ten years ago, Hermione was still occasionally surprised to enter the hallway and hear silence.

When Harry had inherited the house from his godfather, Sirius Black, the effect of its falling out of the hands of the Black family broke the sticking charm on old Mrs. Black's portrait. The painting had fallen off the wall the first time Harry had set foot in the house as its owner. While Mrs. Black had still screamed at them all, Harry had ordered the painting removed at the very least and destroyed if possible. He had requested the same for the other portraits in the hallway.

However, before Remus Lupin and Arthur Weasley had carried Mrs. Black's portrait from the house Harry'd had terse words with its subject and concluded by informing her that her son was dead. For once Mrs. Black had been rendered quite speechless and then she had demanded her painting burnt. "I will not," she stated, "hang around my home watching it defiled when I don't even have my son to taunt."

Looking around Hermione had to admit the house looked quite different from when she and Ron had first moved in. With Harry and Ron's reluctant assistance she'd continued the cleaning Mrs. Weasley had begun and then took it one step further and painted. The walls in the hallway were now a classic eggshell white where before they had been a faded and dreary grey. Most other rooms in the house had also benefited from Hermione's presence as she had them repainted, wallpapered, hung new curtains and replaced old furniture. While she'd been able to replace a lot her skills in transfiguration had worked their magic on the ugly, old, and uncomfortable furniture that had been left. With the addition of their own personal items--and many arguments over where to put Hermione's books--the place seemed less and less like the former headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix and more like home.

Smiling, Hermione left her bag next to the old troll's leg umbrella stand and headed for the kitchen. It was dinnertime and that meant she could count on finding Ron where the food was.

Instead, the kitchen was empty. On the table was a covered plate that Winky, Harry's house elf, had left for her.

Winky had been set free, much to her dismay, by her former master and had spent the subsequent four years drinking butterbeer in front of a fireplace in the Hogwarts kitchens. Shortly after Harry had sequestered himself at Grimmauld Place he'd realized he might starve if he had to continue cooking for himself. To that end he'd contacted Dobby, another house elf Harry had freed from his former, and cruel, master and who was now working at Hogwarts. Dobby acted as intermediary for Harry and Winky and had settled the negotiations brilliantly.

Winky could wear her tea cozy instead of clothes and call Harry "master" if she so wished as long as she only cooked Harry's meals, did some light housekeeping and then disappeared as soon as dinner was cleaned up. She could go to her self-appointed 'room' in the attic or anywhere else she chose, which was often the Hogwarts kitchens where she and Dobby and the other Hogwarts house elves praised "the great Harry Potter" until their duties--or hungry students searching for a midnight snack--called them away.

At first Hermione, the head of SPEW, had not been overly pleased though she was grateful Harry wasn't totally alone in those early days and had admitted that Winky got excellent treatment from Harry as opposed to what many house elves got from their masters. She just wished Winky were willing to be paid for her work.

When Ron and Hermione had moved in Winky had been a great help in overhauling the house and, as Hermione didn't cook much better than Harry, she was relieved--though she'd never admit it--to have Winky in the kitchen.

Figuring Harry and Ron must be in the drawing room, Hermione grabbed her plate and headed there.

Harry was sitting on a large, overstuffed sofa--formerly an old decrepit settee--with his feet on the low table in front of him. Ron was similarly seated on a matching chair with his feet on an ottoman.

Hermione stopped in the doorway. Even though they'd been similarly engaged for most of the past week she still had trouble not only walking into a room that was still and quiet but seeing Ron and Harry so completely engrossed in a book that they seemed to completely blot out all else.

Setting her plate down on a nearby table, Hermione made her way to Ron and was just sitting down on the arm of his chair when he blurted out, "Oh, what rubbish!" in a very disgusted tone.

Harry calmly looked up from his book, nodded an acknowledgment to Hermione and asked Ron, "what now?" Hermione raised her eyebrows and tilted her head in question. "He's been doing that all evening," Harry told her. "And much more so with that book than the previous three."

Startled at hearing Harry discuss him in the third person, Ron looked around. He gave a slight jump when he saw Hermione was not only there but also sitting so closely to him. "Hermione. Didn't see you come in. Sorry." Absentmindedly patting Hermione's knee, Ron turned to Harry.

"This woman's mental, Harry. Really. I mean she seems to think you didn't agree with me here."

"Ron feels Ms. Rowling got some things wrong. I think she's been quite accurate," Harry explained to Hermione. He turned to Ron and asked, "what is it Ron?"

"Here, after the Yule Ball," Ron pointed at the page as though Harry could read it from across the room. "Remember when Hermione and I were arguing and she stomped off and I told you Hermione had completely missed my point? Well this...this woman writes that you thought, 'Hermione had got the point much better than Ron had.' She's mad!"

Hermione put a hand up to her face to cover her smile while Harry tried to swallow his. He did remember the incident and he also remembered that he had indeed thought it was Ron who'd missed the point of Hermione's parting shot. Harry was reading a book ahead of Ron and had sniggered when he'd read that. He wasn't doing much sniggering at the book he was reading now, though.

Ron gaped as Harry struggled to come up with a suitable response. "You didn't really think that did you, mate?"

"Er, well--" Harry began.

Turning bright red Ron turned to Hermione. Unable to restrain herself she giggled.

"Oh, that's it!" Disgusted, Ron stood up and threw the book on the chair. "That's just it!" he said again as he strode from the room.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and burst out laughing. It felt good. After a moment Harry asked, "aren't you going to go after him?"

"In a minute," replied Hermione. "I'll let him cool down a bit first." More sober now she asked, "did you really?"

"Really think what this woman wrote I did?" Hermione nodded and Harry continued quietly. "Yes. It's weird, Hermione. It's weird how this woman, this J.K. Rowling, seems to know so much." There was a pause before he added, "she seems to have gotten into my head."

Hermione didn't answer right away. When she did she said, "you know, Harry, I read all this before I showed it to you. All this." She waved a hand around the room to encompass all the books, magazines and miscellaneous items she'd found that were now strewn about the drawing room left where Harry and Ron had last been looking through them. "I considered not telling you about it at all. After all, how likely were you to find out about it all locked up in here and only willing to speak to Ron, Winky and myself? Finally I just decided that you should know. It's your life and it's out there for everyone, and I mean everyone, to see. I thought it was important you know that."

When Harry didn't respond Hermione stood up. "I'm going to go find Ron. I think he's sulked quite enough." She smiled. Just when she'd gotten to the door Harry spoke.

"Hermione?" She turned and looked at him. "Why?" started Harry, "why do you think people care about this? I mean enough to read these books, make them into films?"

"I'm not sure, Harry. To the muggles the idea of a wizarding world alone must seem fascinating. Then add this fantastic story of good and evil and a boy who lived to become a reluctant hero. You've led a remarkable life, Harry."

Harry thought about this while Hermione waited. Then he said, "I know why you read the books, Hermione. Even if it hadn't been about me you would have read them just because they're books." They smiled at each other. "But why do you think Ron is reading them? I've never seen him read a book he wasn't forced to."

"Ron's your friend, Harry. That's why he started reading the books. He's continued with them because even though he knows 'the story', even though he--both of us--lived much of it with you, he's now been given the chance to see it all from your perspective."

"And?"

"And it's been enlightening. For both of us."

Harry again thought for a minute and then grinned. "Wait until he reads this one." He held up the book in his hand. "Now, go cheer Ron up so he can get back to his reading."