“Earth to Hermione,” said a good looking black-haired man while a rather tall red-headed man waved his hand inches from Hermione’s face.
“What? What did I miss?” she said, rather lamely.
“Well, you didn’t really miss anything. It’s just you nearly drank out of the sugar dish instead of your coffee cup,” Harry said, chuckling good-naturedly. “I think it’s time that you tell us what’s going on in that brilliant head of yours,” he finished, still smiling broadly at his best friend.
Hermione took a deep breath, looking from Ron to Harry. She wondered if she should tell them about her latest correspondence. She desperately wanted to talk about the letter she’d received just this morning. She felt like she might burst with excitement.
“Okay. I’ll tell you,” she said, taking another deep breath.
Ron and Harry looked at her rather expectantly. This was going easier than they had expected.
“Well, I got a special letter this morning. And, I must confess, I’ve been thinking about it ever since,” she said, smiling somewhat shyly. I’ve been so distracted, it’s a wonder I’m even wearing matching shoes, she thought to herself, still smiling at Ron and Harry.
Immediately, her two best friends began laughing. Harry squeezed her hand and Ron leaned in to tousle her hair a bit.
“Hermione, it’s about time, you know” said Ron.
“-yeah, go on. Tell us who he is,” interrupted Harry.
“No, no. It’s not like that. Not like that at all,” she said. “It’s not even from a guy- the letter was from a girl.”
Ron choked a bit on his tea and Harry just goggled his friend.
“Oh, please,” groaned Hermione. “You two!” She eyed them both for a minute before continuing.
“The letter is from the child I’ve been helping since our seventh year- you know, the refugee! She owled me for the first time this morning,” she said breathlessly, her smile broadening.
Ron cleared his throat and looked at Hermione. “You’re excited and extremely distracted because you got an owl from a little girl whom you’ve never even met... wait a second- if you’ve never met then how could she know to send you a post?”
“Well, Ronald. She addressed the letter as ‘My Benefactress’ “ which I guess I am, you know. And her owl found me.”
Harry looked at his friend intently. He knew there had to be more to this story. Ron’s right- she’s awfully flustered- too flustered for just some kind of recognition of a good deed, he thought.
“Hermione,” he slowly started. “How old is she?”
“Five,” She smiled.
“And where does she live?” he continued.
“Muggle London- a special sort of home for illegitimate children- took me ages to find just the right place, you know,” she said proudly.
“And what’s her name?”
She faltered. What’s the harm in telling them her name- well, her first name, anyway? she mused to herself.
“Louisa.”
“And how do you know her name?” Harry pressed.
“Hmmm… well, I figured it out, okay. He didn’t tell me, if that’s what you’re after,” she quickly said.
“He?” Ron interjected.
“Yeah,” said Harry. “Who do you mean by ‘he’?”
She looked from one to the other. How much of her secret should she tell, she wondered. Keeping her two best friends in the dark about an increasingly important aspect of her life had been tough. She really wanted to talk about Louisa- and Draco, too, for that matter. But some of that will have to wait, she thought, letting a soft sigh escape.
“I mean Louisa’s father, of course. He’s tried to keep her identity a secret- not just from me but from everyone. He maintains that she’s not safe in the wizarding world,” she said. “And before you ask, let me just remind you that I think he’s a rather young wizard from a pureblood family- one that encouraged him to kill the child, too. I have no idea who the child’s mother is. He told me a long time ago that she was a Muggle-born witch who, and I quote, ‘did not recognize the child as her own,’” she said.
“What does that mean? Not to recognize the child as her own?” Harry asked, frowning slightly.
“Maybe it means that she rejected the child- that she thought the child was a mistake,” Ron offered.
“I’ve spent so much time thinking about that cryptic statement. I don’t know if it means what you’ve suggested, Ron “ that the child’s mother thought she was a mistake or if it’s something else, all together,” she said. “After all, if someone charmed her memory, she wouldn’t recognize the child as her own, would she?”
“Uh, Hermione, don’t you think someone would be able to tell her that she’d been pregnant for nine months, though? Seems like that’d be a tough thing to cover up,” Harry suggested.
“She could have been kidnapped. She could have taken a year off to have the child. I’ve read accounts of using magic to speed up pregnancies, too.” The three were quiet for a few minutes.
“She could even be dead,” Hermione said softly. “But what makes the most sense, I guess, is that she didn’t want the child and forced the father to deal with it.” The waitress came back to their table then, refilling Hermione’s and Harry’s coffee. Harry spooned some sugar into his coffee, stirring it thoughtfully.
“One more thing, Hermione. Do you still keep in contact with Louisa’s father?” he said. Ron looked up from his own cup of tea, watching for her reaction.
A blush crept over Hermione’s cheeks. She didn’t answer. When she nearly reached for the sugar dish instead of her coffee cup for a second time, Harry gently took her hand.
“Hermione, you do, don’t you. You do still write to him,” he said, taking a pause before continuing. She met his eyes. “And you know who he is.” It wasn’t a question.
Ron looked from Harry to Hermione. When she tilted her chin down, he took her other hand in his own.
“And you like him, too, don’t you?” Ron said in a quiet tone.
“Yes.”
Hermione sighed again. “Yes, I like him. But that’s not really all of it. I really like her- Louisa “ too. I like them both. I feel connected to them “ and I just can’t satisfactorily explain it, either. I’ve been helping her father “ and no, I won’t tell you his name! - I’ve been helping him for five years now. I guess that’s why I’m so drawn to them.” She looked at the questioning faces of her two friends.
“And there’s just one more thing- and then I’ll have told you everything I’m going to tell,” she said, breathing in deeply. “I follow them around sometimes. I love to watch them. I love to feel like I’m a part of the two of them,” she confessed.
“Wow,” said Ron.
Harry smiled, still holding her hand. “You must feel so relieved to tell us about this, Hermione. You could have told us before, you know. This is clearly very important to you.”
She blinked back grateful tears that had been threatening to fall for a while now. “I’ve wanted to tell you both. Really I have! It’s just that I can’t explain it- I feel like a stalker. But today something changed- something changed because she reached out to me. She wants to write to me- and maybe to meet me.” She paused. “And I’d like that, too. I’m tired of this secret.”
Ron handed Hermione his handkerchief which she used to wipe away her tears. After a few minutes, Harry decided that it was probably best to change the subject.
“Dumbledore has called a meeting of the Order for tomorrow night, as I’m sure you both know. Any ideas on what’s up?” Harry asked.
“Yeah, I got the summons this morning,” said Ron. “My guess is he wants to deal with the Muggle-baiting that’s been happening lately.” He paused. “Of course, that’s the Ministry’s job but maybe he thinks there’s more behind it. I'm going to give a report about some of the cases I've been working on.” Indeed, it was Ron’s job at the Ministry for Magic to investigate instances of Muggle-baiting.
Hermione nodded as she said, “Muggle-baiting... That’s what I thought, too. From what you’ve been telling us, the attacks have been picking up lately- in both numbers and intensity. I know that’s nothing to joke about, but I certainly hope there’s nothing worse going on.”
“Me, too,” said Harry. “So I’ll see you both there, then. Maybe we can go for a drink afterwards?”
“Sounds good to me,” said Ron.
“I wonder if the entire Order will show,” Hermione whispered. “And yes, let’s definitely hang out after the meeting. Maybe we can invite Remus and Tonks, too- I haven’t really seen them in ages.” She leaned down to retrieve her purse. “Let me get the drinks, you two,” waving away the protests of her two dearest friends.
When they were out on the street in front of the café, she pulled both Ron and Harry into a hug.
“Thanks so much. You are my family, you know.” She couldn’t say anything else. Harry squeezed her hard in return and Ron patted her on the back, feeling slightly flustered.
“Well, I’m off to see about one of those Muggle-baiting cases now... an incident with some children, I'm afraid, ” Ron said as he pulled away from Hermione.
“I’ll walk that way with you. I need to check on an order at the Quidditch Supply shop,” he said with a huge grin.
“See you tomorrow night,” said Hermione, as she waved to her departing friends.
“And I’ll be seeing someone else, too,” she said, this time so softly that only she could hear herself.