Visit

Hermione pulled her hair back, wore a reasonably nice dress and put on sensible shoes. She asked her father to drive her to Harry's house. She had the street directory on her knees the whole ride.

She checked the number twice before walking up the path. She knocked on the door. Some corpulent boy answered the door. She assumed it was Harry's cousin.

"Yes?" he said, rudely.

"I would like to see Harry," she said.

The corpulent boy whimpered and rushed inside.

"Harry," she heard him yell from somewhere inside the house. "One of your freaks has come to see you."

Hermione found this quite distasteful.

Soon, Harry came to the door. His eyes seemed to widen to almost comic proportions when he saw her. He looked less shabby than he usually did during the holidays, but he looked terribly tired.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed. "I didn't expect to see you."

"I had a whim. I thought I'd surprise you," she said.

A smile broke onto Harry's face for a moment, then passed. "You look good, healthy. You healed up really well."

"I haven't been doing anything too active. Mostly just reading and watching TV," she admitted. "Would you like to go for a walk? It's a lovely day today."

"It's an awful day. It rained this morning and it's grey and cloudy and will probably rain again tonight."

"Harry," she said, a trifle annoyed at him. "Go for a walk with me."

He had the grace to look sheepish. "OK."

She grabbed his hand and pulled him outside and he closed the door behind him roughly.

As she reached her dads' car he called out to her, "I'll come back and pick you up at six. Have fun, sweetheart."

"Thanks, dad," she replied.

As they walked along her father drove off.

Harry looked at her. "So where are we walking to?"

"I don't know. Where should we go? I don't know my way around this area."

"There's not really a lot to see. Um, there's a playground but it's probably drenched and we're too old for it. Or we could go have tea with Mrs Figg and watch her feed her many cats. Not a lot of options," he explained.

"That sounds fine," Hermione said. "I don't think either of us are really in the mood for anything really exciting."

Harry stopped walking and looked down at his feet. Hermione turned to face him, still holding his hand.

"So which should it be, Mrs Figg or the soggy playground?" Harry asked, finally looking up at her.

"I think we'll try Mrs Figg first," Hermione decided.

Harry turned them around and walked in the direction of Mrs Figg's house.

*****

Arabella was just putting her groceries away when she heard a knock on the door. She thought it must have been Mundungus - he'd been coming over a bit since Sirius died.

"Yes, yes, I'm coming," she called, putting the milk away before rushing to open the door.

She was surprised when she saw Harry Potter and a girl standing on her doorstep.

"Hello, Mrs Figg," Harry said.

"Harry! Hello," she managed, flustered.

"I hope you don't mind the intrusion. My friend Hermione was in the neighbourhood and she wanted to see the sights," Harry said.

"And I'm one of them, then," Arabella surmised. "Very well, then. Do come in."

She waved them in and wandered back in the direction of her kitchen. "I'll put on some tea."

She went and got her favourite teapot, the white one with the picture of a tabby cat on the side, and filled it as they sat at the table. She hurried about, putting it on the stove then getting the tea things out. Once that was done, she got out a plate of biscuits and took them back to the table.

"Here you go," she said. "Need to get some food into you. You're looking dreadfully thin."

Harry said nothing, but took a biscuit.

"How are you?" Arabella asked. "No, that's a silly question. Just came to visit him, dear?"

"Well he can't hide in there forever," Hermione said.

"I can try," Harry said.

The kettle whistled.

"I'll just get that," Arabella said, and hurried back into the kitchen.

As she poured the tea she could hear them quietly crunching on the biscuits. She poured the milk and put the tea strainer in the sink, before taking the cups back to the table.

"I hope you like it with milk," she addressed the girl, "because I've already poured it."

"It's fine," Hermione said and smiled.

Arabella rushed back and got her cup of tea. One of her cats came up and rubbed itself against her feet as she walked.

"No, moggy, I'm carrying hot tea," she muttered.

It squawked and ignored her.

Arabella sat down at the table, carefully putting her cup down, and the cat jumped up onto her lap.

"That's a lovely cat," Hermione spoke. "What's his name?"

"This one is called Mr Tibbles," Arabella spoke, patting her fluffy little baby. "Aren't you darling? Do you have any pets, dear?"

"Oh, yes," Hermione answered. "I have a cat called Crookshanks."

Arabella smiled. "There's something wonderful about a cat lover."

"Umbridge had these horrible kitten plates," Harry spoke, "and she was a noxious cow."

"I'm sure she just liked plates rather than cats," Arabella said.

Hermione swallowed. "Harry doesn't particularly like Crookshanks, either."

"Crookshanks is OK. S, Sirius liked him," he said, glum.

"Well, there was something wonderful about him then."

Harry smiled wanly.

"Mundungus likes Mr Tibbles, as well," Arabella carried on. "He likes to try to feed him every time he's here."

"Mundungus Fletcher comes here often?" Hermione asked.

Arabella blushed. "He likes to drop by occasionally. Well, whenever he can."

"What does he talk about?" Harry asked around a mouthful of biscuit. Arabella isn't sure, but she thinks she heard Hermione kick him under the table.

"Well, he talks about Sirius sometimes, says he was a good man, a good friend. Sometimes he'll tell me of some madcap scheme he has and I tell him I'll not have him making me an accessory and I don't want to hear any more. He tells me about the rest of the order, sometimes. Nothing secret, mind. Just things like he heard Hagrid and his French bird are on a mission together and he thinks they're at it like rabbits. Oh, and he tells me about Remus Lupin, poor fellow. Apparently he's beside himself with grief, paler than a ghost and rarely eats. I told Mundungus it's not easy when your lover dies so it's no wonder the poor thing's in a right state."

Harry appeared to choke on a bit of biscuit. Hermione patted him on the back as he coughed, eyes watering.

"You shouldn't eat so fast, dear. Things are inclined to go down the wrong tube. Have a sip of your tea and it'll be right," Arabella advised.

The boy sipped some tea, eyes wide, and the girl rubbed circles into his back.

"I'm all right," he rasped, and she removed her hand slowly.

When the boy was done choking Arabella looked at the plate, hoping for a biscuit, and realised there were none left. "Oh dear, it appears there are no more biscuits," she said.

Harry lowered his eyes and said, "Uh, sorry about that."

"No, no, it's quite all right. A growing boy needs to eat. Sometimes I wonder if they ever feed you over there," she said.

"They'd starve me if they thought they could get away with it."

"Such dreadful people."

The girl stood up and offered a hand. "Well, Mrs Figg, it was lovely to meet you and Mr Tibbles."

Arabella shook the girl's hand. So polite, exactly the kind of friend Harry needs, she thought.

Harry stood up. "See you, Mrs Figg."

Arabella saw them to the door. "Have a pleasant afternoon."

"We will."

They left.

*****

"Well, that was something."

Harry nodded, absent-minded. They walked at a leisurely pace along the sidewalk.

"So, playground now, I guess."

"Yeah."

They shuffled along towards the playground.

*****

The playground was damp and dreary. Hermione wandered over to the swings and sat down on one, pulling up her skirt so the wet seat only dampened her stockings. Harry didn't seem to pay attention to the display of that much leg. He just sat down in the other swing as Hermione pushed off from the ground and flew through the air.

The wind rushed cold over her legs, but her hair shook loose and flew everywhere and the chains rubbed hot against her hands. The air felt harsh as she drew it into her throat.

"This isn't so bad," she said.

"Not when you're here," he said.

Hermione leaned back as she swung forward, gaining some height. She could feel that rush in the pit of her stomach and in her legs.

Beside her Harry swung his legs to see how high he could swing. She turned her head to watch him fly through the air, graceless but so very alive. It took her breath away as surely as the exercise did.

Hermione slowed herself down, dragging her sandshoes against the ground, back and forth. It was easier to watch him when she was barely moving.

Soon, Harry slowed down a little, before jumping off the swing. He laughed a little breathlessly.

His maniacal grin was all the warning she got before he ran and jumped on her lap, setting the swing going again.

"Harry!"

"Sorry. Couldn't help myself." He smiled and she couldn't help but forgive him.

The swing stopped moving and Harry stopped smiling and Hermione tried to catch her breath but her throat felt like sandpaper. Harry started to move away a little but Hermione grabbed him by the shoulder and leaned up a little. For a moment, she held close with the slight pressure of her lips on his before she moved back.

"Oh," Harry exhaled, wide-eyed.

Hermione offered a tentative smile as she let go of his shoulder.

Harry chose to smile back, slightly, before pulling her to her feet and winding his arm around her waist.

*****

Harry was silent as they walked back. He kept looking at Hermione until she looked at him then he would turn and look at something else (most often his feet). His tongue darted out to taste some of the lip gloss she'd left smeared on his lips.

Hermione's dad was there, waiting, when they got back to Privet drive.

"Well, I guess I'll see you soon," Harry said.

"You will," Hermione said, decisively.

They embraced awkwardly before she got in the car. She waved to him as her dad drove off.

Harry walked inside the house feeling actually kind of okay.