Saving Harry Potter

Chapter Two - Hermione's Visit

Monday morning arrived painfully slow for Hermione. She had endured the uncertainty of knowing Harry's condition for thirty-six hours before she would be allowed to visit him on Privet Drive. Sure, she had heard about Molly's and Ron's visits, but there was a difference between second-hand accounts and seeing him in person. In fact, hearing about Harry's situation from Ron and his mother only increased Hermione's worry, as it didn't appear that their plan to bring Harry back from his depression was working out very well at all.

When Molly came back early from her visit on Saturday evening, Hermione knew there was something amiss. When she saw most of the food still in the basket Mrs. Weasley carried, Hermione's suspicions were confirmed.

"He said he wasn't hungry," Mrs. Weasley had said.

The frown on her face and the worry lines across her brow, however, told Hermione there was more to the story than that.

Ron's visit was worse. Hermione could somewhat rationalise Harry's reticence to open up to Ron's mother, but Ron himself should have been more capable of eliciting a response from their friend.

"We just...stared at the walls. All day," Ron reported. "If it had been anyone else, I'd have left straight away. The only time he seemed to react was when I told him about the explosion at Fred and George's shop."

Well, that was something, Hermione thought. Even she had laughed when Ron came to Grimmauld Place after working in his brothers' shop and told her about the catastrophic results of one of their new products. If Harry hadn't responded to hearing about Fred and George blowing out the back wall of their shop, and littering Diagon Alley with thousands of their sweets... Hermione would have been more concerned. A hundred witches and wizards turned into animals, enlarged, floating, and vomiting simply had to be laughed at.

So it was with some trepidation that she prepared to Floo to Arabella Figg's house with nothing but her wand to keep her company. It was going to be a tough job, to get Harry to respond to her, but she was determined to do it.

*

A pall of nervousness overcame Hermione as she watched her watch tick closer to nine. She leaned forward towards the mirror in her bathroom and poked at a tiny red mark above her left eyebrow. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her mum lean into the door frame.

"I put your lunches on your bed," she told Hermione. "Are you certain you don't want me to come with you?"

Hermione shook her head vigorously. "No, Mum. I told you that it's going to be awkward enough as it is with me being there." She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and began to wrap a purple band around it. "His aunt and uncle are already cross enough that there's witches and wizards visiting every day. They'd probably call the police if even more showed up."

Her mum frowned at this pronouncement, obviously not too keen on letting her daughter be alone with a boy all day long. Hermione huffed and began to brush out her ponytail. "Honestly, Mum," she said exasperatedly. "We've been over this before. Harry needs his friends now, and I'm one of them."

There was a pause while Hermione examined her dress for lint. She ought not to have been so forceful with her mother, but her anxiety over Harry had simply been too much to keep inside.

"All right," Hermione's mother said at last. "I understand you need to help Harry, but I wonder if we might be able to have him here or something..."

Hermione cut her off. "That won't work, either. I told you that Dumbledore insisted he would have to stay with his relatives for at least a month before he can leave."

Another frown appeared on her mother's face, but then she softened into a grin. "Very well. I'll expect you to call if you have any problems," she said with mock sternness. "Here's a few pounds if you need anything extra." She dropped a couple of coins into Hermione's hand, which she pocketed immediately.

"Thanks, Mum," she said and gave her a quick, warm hug. She glanced at the clock on the wall again and let out a small squeak. "I'm late!"

Hustling past her mother, Hermione darted into her room and tucked the two sack lunches on her bed into her book bag. If Harry was as withdrawn as Ron had said, she'd just have to read to herself while he brooded. At the very least, Harry would have someone there for him.

Running down the stairs, Hermione stopped in front of the fireplace and turned to see her mother descending slowly into the living room. "How do I look?" she asked imploringly, running a hand lightly over her hair.

Her mother smiled. "Perfectly fine for visiting a friend. Off you go."

Hermione returned the smile and took a handful of gritty powder from the ceramic jar that had been added to their fireplace two days before. "Mrs. Figg's!" she yelled and tossed the powder into the grate. A large green flash erupted and Hermione stepped in.

*

The walk from Mrs. Figg's was uneventful, though she did get a sense that there were several people looking oddly at her as she crossed over to Privet Drive. Arriving at Number Four, she gave a tentative knock before re-adjusting her book bag's strap across her shoulder.

There was a shuffling sound behind the door before it burst open and she was faced with what could only be Harry's Aunt Petunia.

"Hello," Hermione said softly. "I'm Hermione Granger." Then, when it became clear that she wasn't going to get a response from this woman, and with a bit more force, she said, "I'm here to see Harry."

Petunia's cold eyes glanced over Hermione's head and swept up and down the lane. When she seemed satisfied that no one was ready to leap out from the bushes, she pulled the door open more fully. "Come in," she barked and stepped back to allow her entrance.

As soon as Hermione had crossed the threshold, the door was shut and Petunia was on her way back to the kitchen. "He's up there," she said with a vague gesture towards the stairs.

A contemptuous feeling wormed its way inside Hermione at the thought of Harry being subjected to this rude behaviour. She started towards the stairs, keeping her eyes on the back of Petunia as she set dishes into the washer. So intent on sending ill-will at Harry's aunt, that she didn't see the large mass on the stairs until she'd bumped into it.

"Oh!" Hermione said with a start and jumped back. "I didn't see you..."

But at the look on the boys face, Hermione stopped speaking. It was obviously Harry's cousin, Dudley standing on the bottom step and staring at her with the most peculiar look. Hermione's cheeks burned at the obvious way his eyes were travelling over her figure. "I'd like to get past," she said pointedly, growing more and more annoyed at the grotesque look on Dudley's face.

Dudley didn't stop looking at her, but did move into the living room. Hermione brushed passed him, just quickly enough to not touch him and hurried up the stairs, all the while feeling his piggy eyes glued to her backside.

Once on the landing, Hermione knocked on the only door that could have been Harry's (the cat flap and four locks made it obvious). There was no answer from behind it, so Hermione closed her eyes and pushed the door open.

"Harry?" she called and took a tentative step inside. "It's Hermione. Are you... are you decent?"

She thought she heard him say 'yes' and opened one eye. He was seated on his bead, staring out the closed window and thankfully, fully clothed. Hermione opened her eyes fully, stepped over a tray of uneaten toast and water, and set her book bag on the only chair in the room.

He looked up at her and for a second, she thought she saw a ghost of a smile on his face, but then he turned to stare back out the window and it was gone.

Clearing a spot off Harry's desk next to the window, she sat down on it and folded her hands in her lap. "So," she said with an extra measure of brightness, "what shall we do today?" Reaching down into her book bag, she extracted a large book. "I brought some light reading material. If you've been having trouble sleeping, I'm sure this would do the trick."

Harry's eyes flicked over to her book and then back out the window. After a moment, it became clear that Hermione wasn't going to get anywhere with the direct approach, so she replaced the book into her bag and after a small bit of indecision, she hopped onto his bed with him.

"Mum says that I'm being stupid by coming over here. She thinks you'll come out of your shell when you're good and ready and that you might react badly to all the attention." Hermione nervously crossed her legs and snuck a glance at him. "I told her that no one really knew what you needed, but that leaving you alone like last year was definitely not going to help any."

Harry gave a sigh and let his head fall onto his folded arms.

Just then, Harry's aunt appeared in the doorway and dropped a list on the bed by Hermione's feet. She scooped up the breakfast tray from the floor and cast a sneering look at the two of them. "Harry's to go into town to shop for us today. I expect him back after lunch." Then she turned and left without another word.

Hermione took the list from the bed and scanned it over. She'd never seen a more detailed shopping list in her life.

Cracked wheat bread (not the store brand, mind you, but the good kind)

Two pints of cream (make sure the date it fresh)

A pound of butter

Two dozen eggs (no cracks or you'll get it)

Ten pounds of flour

Two corned beefs (it must be seasoned!)

And on and on it went. She caught Harry looking at the list and she smiled. "Sounds like we're going on an outing. You ready to leave now?"

He shrugged, but there was something alive in his eyes that she'd not seen since before the Department of Mysteries. They hopped off the bed (well, Harry sort of slid off) and she waited for him to tie on his trainers.

*

The rest of the day was marginally better than the first. Harry wasn't as withdrawn as he'd been with her before they left the house, but he still only spoke in grunts and vague murmurs. She did most of the shopping for him, as she'd been with her own mum loads of times. Harry seemed content to let her, too, and while the conversation wasn't stunning, she couldn't help but feel she'd done some good.

"Hand me a sack, Harry," Hermione said, pointing absently to the roll of plastic vegetable sacks by the fruit stand as she eyed the cabbages. Harry silently tore one off and handed it to her. Two heads of cabbages were selected and placed in the sack. With an expert twist, the leafy vegetables were tied securely and placed in their shopping cart. She moved a sharp pencil down the list and crossed out that item - only three left.

"Right," she said and began to walk towards the dairy section, Harry following obediently behind with the cart. They passed the sweets aisle and Hermione noticed that his eyes lingered on a box of candy bars. She stopped and considered her options. If she spent Petunia's money on candy, it would be obvious and Harry would get in trouble. Her hand moved to the pocket of her dress and the answer became clear.

Without consulting Harry, she picked two of the same candies and held them in her hand, so as not to give Harry a chance to override her decision. As she turned back towards the dairy section, she caught a glimpse of Harry's expression, curiosity mingled with a tiny smidgeon of humour. Hermione hid her smirk by turning away from him and they finished their shopping.

They paid for their groceries and then the candy separately, garnering another interested look from Harry. Taking two sacks each, they began their walk back to Privet Drive. Hermione had moved the candy into her book back with the lunches she'd packed and began thinking of a place they could eat together. It was well past noon and her stomach was squirming uncomfortably with hunger. What was worse, her arms felt like lead as the sacks of food seemed to gain more and more weight the longer they walked. Somehow, she had gotten the two corned beefs.

Harry seemed to be oblivious to her plight, however, as he was slightly ahead of her and couldn't see her struggling. Hermione sighed and shook her head with a smile. She couldn't blame him, really. It was hard enough to get him to see beyond his own grief these days, but somehow, Hermione felt like he was at least moving in the right direction, if not moving particularly fast.

"Er... Harry?" she asked when the sacks threatened to tear her arms completely off. They stopped and he turned to look at her. "Could you...?" She didn't get a chance to finish the question when he swooped in, took both sacks from her, and continued down the pavement.

It was a full five seconds before Hermione scurried after him. "You don't have to take them all," she explained, worried that it would be too much for him.

"Nah," he said with a dismissive nod of his head. "We're almost there anyway."

Hermione was so shocked that he'd spoken, and that he had acted so normal that she didn't say anything until they'd reached the door.

They unloaded the groceries and sat heavily on the sofa. Aunt Petunia was nowhere to be seen and so they felt justified in their relaxation. Hermione closed her eyes for a second and relished in the relative quiet of the living room. She opened her eyes and found Harry staring at her, a mysterious expression on his face. He didn't blink, however, when she caught him at it and somewhere in the pit of her stomach, there was a lurching feeling, as if she'd been walking down a flight of stairs and missed a step.

"You want some lunch?" he asked and stood.

Hermione stood as well, feeling a bit dizzy. She chalked it up to the exertion of their walk from the store and took the two lunches and candies form her bag. "Sure," she said holding out one of the sacks. "My treat?"

Harry smiled and nodded. "I know the perfect spot."

*

By the time night came and it was time for dinner, Hermione walked reluctantly back to Mrs. Figg's and Floo'ed home. She had begun the day with anxiety over how Harry would react to her being there. After hearing about the unqualified failure of Mrs. Weasley and Ron at bringing Harry out of his shell, Hermione was more than relieved to discover a little bit of the old Harry still inside him and happy that she could coax him to let those bits loose for a little while.

After a long meal and a longer narration of the day's events to her parents, she washed the dishes and climbed into the tub for a soak. Smiling at her success, she considered the odd look Harry'd given her before lunch and the strange sensation it had caused inside her. Smiling into the bubbles in her bath, Hermione dipped her head underneath the water and began to wash her hair. It was going to be a long week until she could go back to Little Whinging.