Snake Charmer

"He wrote!" Hermione ran passed her shocked mother, past her scared shitless father, and over to the two owls perched on the couch, where Mr.Granger had unfortunately been sitting when the owls swooped in from the open window. Draco, who had been reading Hermione's subscription to The Daily Prophet, looked up in disgust, recognizing the snowy-white owl.

"I told you Harry would write you, dear. There was nothing to worry about." Hermione's mother returned to the kitchen, fixing breakfast. Mr.Granger, however, sat back down to watch TV. Saturdays were always TV days.

Hermione skimmed through the letter once, and frowned. "Not exactly what I wanted to hear...at least he's ok," she reasoned, and finally turned her attention to the smaller owl, which had flew over to Draco in his excitement. Draco batted the owl with his paper, and the owl was sent flying into the wall, where it dropped the letter.

"MALFOY!" Hermione growled warningly as she carried the small bird to the window. Draco glared after her, but decided that saying something in front of her dad was not a good idea. Especially since her dad hasn't exactly warmed up to him yet. Draco decided to take the newspaper elsewhere, and went up to his room, per usual.

"So what did Harry have to say?" Mr.Granger asked, his eyes glued to Sports Center. Hermione put on a false smile.

"That he's doing fine, and he can't wait to see me this summer." Hermione felt her heart sink. That was basically what he said, but by 'see her', he meant Grimmuald Place, where they could talk freely. Just her luck. Still, as long as Harry's writing her, she has nothing to worry about. Hermione, disregarding Ron's letter altogether (he just asked when she was going to come over for the summer, and what she was doing that had been keeping her from writing a decent letter), Hermione went outside, something she liked to do often in the summer, and began to read a book sitting on the porch. Mrs.Granger popped out a few minutes later, taking a seat beside her.

"Breakfast is almost ready."

Hermione nodded, turning the page. Mrs.Granger struggled for words, and Mr.Granger came out as well. Hermione closed her book. Apparently there was talking to be done.

"Hermione, we read this little guide here, and I wanted to ask you something," Mr.Granger said lightly, brandishing the little booklet. Hermione felt her stomach drop.

"Sure, dad."

"How much of this will actually help us?" Mr.Granger looked at Hermione with worried eyes, his face tense. "We know that we're Muggles, and that Voldemort's the most powerful dark wizard alive. So, do we really stand a chance?"

Hermione felt around for words, something that would make the situation less troublesome. Admittedly, she was wondering the same thing. Could she hold Death eaters off? Could she hold Voldemort off? Hermione's brown eyes looked off into the houses beyond. "No, but you'll have me, and Mal-Draco here." Malfoy helping her fight them? That was a joke, but right now she needed to find a way to avoid this discussion. She didn't want to think about it anymore.

Mrs.Granger's eye grew wide and watery. "Honey, we don't want you to go back to Hogwarts. We're afraid for you and your friends! I couldn't bear it if you had gotten hurt and we can't be there by your side!" Mr.Granger rested a hand on her knee, and looked sternly at his daughter.

"We know that this means a lot to you, but nothing means more than you to us!"

Hermione felt her eyes water just from the thought of leaving Hogwarts. "I can't leave. My friends need me around! I have to help them fight this, daddy." Hermione only needed to think about Harry and Ron and suddenly she was angry. "You can't keep me from going back to Hogwarts!" She got up and stormed off to her room, leaving her mother crying and her father unsure of what to do.

Draco had heard most of the conversation, being his room just above them. He looked out into the hall as Hermione stormed into her room, slamming the door. Draco lay back on his bed. Would he help Granger? No.

_____________________________________________________________________

Ron was already regretting his letter to Hermione. He was just bored, and Hermione's letters combined with Harry's cold shoulder were tearing him up. It was hard to keep entertained, with the combination of portraits wailing and his mom screeching at him.

The black house was downright morbid to live in. Ron wasn't allowed outside much, and his new broom from last year was getting dusty and worn. All Ron could do was talk to Ginny, who would eventually upset him by reading one of Dean's many letters.

It was during such a time when a very thin lady had walked in, her large red bag slung over her shoulder. The woman reminded Ron of a twig; tall, knobby and horribly skinny. Her peppery grey hair was cut into a very butch-like style, and the woman wore cat glasses, hiding her eyes. Her robes were a bright yellow, and looked out of place compared to the rest of her. Ron turned to go back upstairs, but was surprised when Lupin beckoned for him to join them. Relieved to be included for a change, Ron hurried over to them, eager to get information to send to Harry. Maybe then he'll write back.

"Ron, this is Professor O'Conner, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. This is Ron Weasley, Molly's only son left in Hogwarts."

The old woman's fell to her feet, and with a painful smile, she extended her hand, forcing herself to look at him. "A pleasure to meet you, Ron." She took a seat, finding now that her eyes wouldn't drift away from the boy. He was so young...

"Um, yeah. So you're in the Order?" Ron felt forced to say something to keep this woman occupied. O'Conner nodded, smiling. Her hands were shaking.

"More like a friend of Dumbledore's. I came to get some teaching advice from Mr.Lupin here. I've never taught before, you see."

Remus frowned, noticing that the professor had slipped up. "She just got her degree, so I'm going to be helping her out a bit." Ron wasn't pleased with the answer, but nodded and began to leave; hoping he could learn more about who this old witch really was upstairs. The woman suddenly grabbed his shoulder, her eyes wide.

"Is Ginny here?"

Ron looked puzzled. "Yeah, why? How do you know her?"

"Just tell her to wait a little longer. She'll understand." The witch bustled away with Lupin after that, and Ron was left standing there, more confused now than he was when she arrived.

________________________________________________________________________

Harry,

Can't you just call me on the phone? I am going to be late getting to Grimmuald Place this summer, but I really want to talk to you. I'm scared, Harry. Scared for you and Ron. I worry that you're putting too much pressure on yourself. Let me and Ron help you through this ok? We want to fight too. You don't have to kill Voldemort on your own, you know.

"Bullshit," Harry muttered under his breath. If she only knew how much he had to do on his own.

My parents don't want me going back to Hogwarts. They think it's too dangerous. I guess they're right, but I'm still going. I really need someone to talk to, because there's no one here to understand me better than you. I've written Ron, but I think he's mad at me. Please call me.

Hermione

Harry picked up his quill, pausing to think of words that might comfort his best friend. What could he say? Harry knew what she wanted to hear, but yet he couldn't give that to her just yet. What could he tell her to make her understand the feelings he's going through? Then it came to him.

He would tell her the prophecy. She was smart enough to figure out what he was trying to say, and Hermione wouldn't tell anyone. He scribbled the words down under Hermione's own writing and sent Headwig off.

______________________________________________________________________

Hermione was still sitting in her room when night fell. She was alone, naturally, yet she needed help.

Harry's response was short and had made no sense. She read it every way possible, thinking it was a cryptogram, but to no avail.

"SO WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!?" Hermione collapsed onto her bed in frustration. A small voice in the back of her mind whispered, "You already know, don't you?"

Hermione sat up, looking at the letter. She had never failed to solve something. She realized now that this was the message she was meant to read, but to figure out what it was about...other than Voldemort of course.

"Maybe I need a small break." Hermione rubbed her eyes and turned on her stereo, listening to the radio playing songs that she had never heard before. Lack of knowledge in the Muggle world is what you get for becoming a witch. Hermione watched as two owls swooped through her open window. One had dropped a letter on her lap from Ron. Hermione blushed a bit, but continued to read anyway. Why did Ron's apologies make her feel so embarrassed? Then again, things were always tense between her and Ron.

"HOW DARE YOU DEFY ME!? HOW DARE YOU, MY ONLY SON DEFY THE RULES I HAVE GIVEN YOU? I MADE IT CLEAR THAT YOU WERE TO DROP MUDBLOOD STUDIES THE MOMENT THAT BITCH TOLD ME YOU WERE GOING TO TAKE IT! YOU WILL PAY; YOU AND YOUR MOTHER WILL PAY DEARLY FOR KEEPING SECRETS FROM ME! THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE TO PROVE YOUR WORTH, DRACO! IF THAT MUDBLOOD WHORE-"

There was a scream louder than the Howler itself. Mrs.Granger was screaming for someone to stop it. Hermione had gone very pale, and oddly she felt every sound in her house fade away. Her dad was in her room, demanding to know what was going on. Her mother was crying, standing in the hallway and watching the smoke from the letter curl through the house. Draco was paler than Hermione was; clutching the sheets on his bed, numb with shock and fear. Finally, when Hermione's senses woke, she bolted from her bed, storming into Draco's room.

"What the hell was that, Malfoy? What is your father talking about? How did he escape from Azkaban?" Hermione's heart was racing as her mom and dad both entered the room.

"That was your father? Are you ok Draco?" Mrs.Granger sat down beside him, her eyes tear-stained from fright. Mr.Granger had a phone in his hand.

"I'm calling the police. This is uncalled for!"

"No, dad! It's ok, it was just a howler. Remember I told you about how Ron got one in our second year? It just explodes, and the message is ten times louder." Hermione's voice seemed distant, and she found herself searching Draco's stone-grey eyes for answers. Was it finally happening?

"Honey, what was this letter about?" Mrs.Granger had put an arm around Draco, and Hermione noticed him stiffen in disgust.

"My dad didn't know I was here, that's all." No reason to tell them his dad was a murderer, coming to kill them and others real soon. Draco would help of course. Hell, he would start waving his wand now if he could. Anything to keep his dad from being angry with him. He hated the look he got from his father when he was angry.

Hermione's parents both calmed down a bit. "Well your father shouldn't say such horrible words about you or Hermione. I've heard about the whole Mudblood business. Maybe you should write your father back. If there is anything you need, just ask us, ok?" Mrs.Granger squeezed his hand and left, Mr.Granger following behind her, only less convinced that everything was alright.

"When is it starting, Draco," Hermione whispered, eyes narrowed, "When are they coming here?"

Draco smirked, his usual charm returning. "Like I know? Why don't you tell me why your parents don't know that I was the one calling you Mudblood after all of these years?"

"Tell me!" Hermione pinned him down on the bed, tears streaming down her face. She banged on his bare chest with her fists. "You know! You know why you're here! It wasn't Dumbledore's idea, was it? You're here to kill me and my family!" She slapped him hard across the face, reminiscing to her third year.

Draco was shocked, feeling his cheek tingle with the slap. He rolled her over and pinned her down instead, gripping her shoulders so she couldn't move. Hermione's eyes grew big in shock, but she was still crying silently. Draco leaned into her, his eyes flickering dangerously into Hermione's own.

"I don't know, Mudblood. You had just better sleep with your wand tonight, and yes it was Dumbledore's idea." He threw Hermione off of the bed, and as Hermione got up to leave, both knew that the argument was over.