Harry hadn’t the heart to tell Hermione what he had seen. He hoped that she would be able to make some since out of what Harry saw, but desperately didn’t want to be the one to tell her that her parents were most likely dead. He waited for someone like Mr. Weasley to walk in that morning and tell her. He crept down stairs, avoiding the few that creaked. Hopefully Hermione would still be asleep. That would he could talk to Mr. Weasley.
The kitchen was lit with a small beam of light fading through the window. In the distance he could hear roosters crowing, as though mocking his dream. Harry’s sight strolled over to the clock with the Weasley’s names written on each hand. Mr. Weasley’s hand was slowly changing from work to home. Harry sank into one of the chairs, watching the hand shift. He grew nervous that Hermione might wake up before Mr. Weasley got home. He breathed slowly to hear any noise coming from the stair case.
He was startled by a small click. His gaze wandered to the clock again. Mr. Weasley was home. His face seemed disturbingly grave. He was startled to see Harry sitting quietly in the chair.
“Erm… Is Hermione… up yet?” he said softly as though she were in the next room. Harry slowly shook his head. Mr. Weasley gave a heavy sigh. “I… I need to know when she wakes up.” he said. Harry said nothing until Mr. Weasley headed back to the door.
“I had a dream last night,” he said causing Mr. Weasley’s hand to stop on the doorknob, “about Hermione’s parents….” Mr. Weasley closed his eyes and turned around. Harry stood up and pushed the chair back under the table.
“We’ll have to tell her sometime.” Harry said softly. Mr. Weasley nodded.
“Of course, but… we should wait tell she wakes up.” Mr. Weasley said calmly.
“Until who wakes up?” came a nervous voice from the doorway. Harry and Mr. Weasley turned around. Hermione stood at the end of the room. She was still in her night dress, her hair hanging down in her deep brown eyes.
“Hermione,” Mr. Weasley said sadly, “there was a Death Eater attack in Leeds last night….” Hermione’s mouth hung open. A pool of tears was forming in her eyes, waiting to spill out at any moment.
“Did they…? Not…” she gave a horrendous wail. Her face was buried in her tear soaked hands. Harry walked over and put his hand around her shoulder. Mrs. Weasley came downstairs and opened her mouth, but Mr. Weasley held up his hand and signaled her to the other side of the room where they chatted softly. Harry walked Hermione back to Ginny’s bedroom. Hermione continued to sob on Harry’s shoulder. He rubbed her back. He could think of nothing comforting to say.
As they entered Ginny’s bedroom, Hermione sank into the bed. Ginny looked sadly at her and put her arm around her shoulder. She seemed to know what had happened. Hermione seemed to sob for hours, not caring that Harry and Ginny were watching. Finally she stopped long enough to say something.
“I left them… I left because I cared more about what was in the *hic* wizarding world than about them.” she wailed miserably, “That was the last thing I said to them; that I needed to know what was going on instead of having Christmas with them!”
Hermione… Don’t blame yourself! It’s not bad to care about what’s happening…. These are dark times, and it’s only safe to know what’s going on.” Ginny said softly, but Hermione shook her head.
“But they didn’t know that!” she wailed. Harry rubbed her back again.
“If they didn’t know, that doesn’t make it your fault.” he said soothingly. “Ginny’s right; these are dark times.”
Hermione sat up on the bed. “How do you live with it Harry?” she asked sadly. Harry thought this to be an odd question. “Almost the exact same thing happened to your parents and *sniff* you just… your so calm about it.”
“Hermione… That was a long time ago. You’ll get over it eventually. Just give it some time.” Harry told her. She gave a feeble nod.
Two loud cracks indicated that someone had just apparated into the room. Harry turned around and saw Fred and George standing gravely at the doorway. It was the worst sight he had ever seen; there was no smirk, no mischievous grin across their faces. They simply had a very grave expression on them. They came and sat on either side of Hermione and put and arm around both of her shoulders. Somehow this calmed Hermione more than anything else.
Bill, Charlie, Ron, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and even Percy followed in suit. All piled into the room to comfort her. Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat.
“You are always welcome here my dear.” she said softly. Hermione gave a small sob. Harry hadn’t though about where Hermione could live until she was out of school. From Hermione’s face, it seemed that she hadn’t either.
Harry had a small feeling of guilt when he left the room. Hermione had stopped crying, but her eyes showed no sigh of going back to normal. They seemed to suck in what ever they looked at, as though she hadn’t a care what happened.
Seeing Hermione made the holidays end twice as slow as it should have. Harry wanted so badly to go back to Hogwarts. He new it would do Hermione good to see the castle again.
On the last day, Harry found himself packing his belongings while Ginny sat on the foot of Ron’s bed talking about Hermione.
“She still blames herself you know,” she said sadly. “She says she doesn’t, but you can see it in her eyes. She almost looks angry.” Harry closed his trunk and set it by the door. He found it hard to imagen Hermione looking angry at herself.
Harry stared out the window of the Hogwarts express. The layer of snow that lay along the trail was thinning. He, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione all sat together in the same compartment.
A soft rattling noise went off in Harry's trunk. Ron looked at him. "Sounds like that Dark arts detector." he said with an odd tone to his voice.
A horribly familiar voice came down the train. Harry looked out and saw Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle came smirking down the train. A sudden rush of anger seemed to come with them.
“Hey Granger, my dad tried to give a little Christmas cheer, but you weren’t there! So, he decided that he should just give to those muggle parents of yours instead.” he sneered. Harry wasn’t conscious of drawing his wand. All he knew was that one second later, it, along with everyone else’s in the compartment, was pointing directly at Malfoy’s heart. Malfoy drew his wand and pointed at the four of them. Before Harry could think of a curse worthy of Malfoy’s taunts. He heard a thunderous voice boom from the end of the hall.
“out!” it snarled. Harry turned around. Lupin stood very stiffly at the doorway, with his wand also point at Malfoy’s heart. Malfoy looked at him with disgust and said nothing. “OUT!” Lupin shouted. Harry stared for a moment. This was extraordinarily unlike Lupin. He, even when he was a Marauder, never threatened anyone with his wand. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle turned away and shuffled out of the room. Lupin had a slight look of guilt, but it was easily covered up by his anger. Harry glared at Hermione, who had the most dangerous look of them all; her face was rose red, and her hair was hanging dangerously over her eyes, which didn’t seem to have any colour to them. Her pupils almost seemed to take up her whole eye.
Lupin calmed down and sat down next to Hermione. She swore loudly at Malfoy, which startled everyone. Somehow this seemed to calm her ever so slightly. Harry put his wand back in his pocket. Self-cautiously he felt that, even though they were the same age, he was being a bad example to Hermione. Malfoy had made jokes about his parents, and he tried to curse him, but somehow he felt that if Hermione did the same, then nothing would ever be the same; Lupin was threatening students with his wand, and Ron was scolding Hermione for swearing, and Ginny wanted so badly to curse Malfoy when she got the chance.
A horrible feeling crept among him; as though every good thing in his life felt his pain. Before, he had a small savage feeling of desire for this to happen; for other people to see things like him. But now, he felt that he had placed a burden on everyone by wishing this.