Correspondence

She made her way down the stone staircase, slowly descending into the dark dungeons that were home to many memories, both bad and good. When she got to her destination, she faced that familiar wooden door, leading to his office. She knocked softly and heard the gruff “enter.”

She pushed open the heavy door and made her way inside his dingy, dimly lit office. He was hunched over his desk, scratching hastily over a parchment that was slowly bleeding red ink. She gave a little cough and he looked up from the essay, a scowl affixed to his face. The scowl fell when he saw that it was her.

“Hermione, what are you doing here?” he questioned, placing the quill down gently and folding his arms across his chest.

“Well, I realized that we made a blunder, although it’s not really a blunder because there is a solution; it is just going to be different, and it’s a blunder that I’m surprised we made, but it’s okay, I am sure everything will work out in the end.”

“Hermione you are babbling. Out with it, woman!”

“We forgot that the holiday is coming up. Neither of us will be here this weekend.”

“The problem with that is?” he questioned, waving his hand around.

“Nothing, I guess. Never mind,” she said, an odd expression crossing her features, a cross between hurt and shock. She turned to leave the room and heard an intake of breath from behind her.

“Of course, I’m sorry, I forgot. We had planned to see each other this weekend.” She turned back to face him, a small smile on her face at the fact that he remembered.

“That’s right. Do you wish to postpone or would you like to meet in London, if you will be near there of course?”

“That will be acceptable, to meet in London that is. I own a house outside of London, so meeting there will be convenient. Where will you be staying over the holiday? The Burrow, I presume?”

“You would presume correctly. Molly invited me to stay there since I sold my flat when I came to work here. I could always stay here over the holiday, but I really want to see all of the Weasleys again; it has been so long since I have seen all of them together.” Not counting the time I ran to them when I was afraid this was all a joke.

“What?” he asked.

“What what?”

“You looked like you wanted to say something, but nothing was coming out of your mouth.”

“Oh, no, I was just thinking, is all. So how do you want to work this weekend? Do you want to meet somewhere and where? The Ministry would probably be the easiest, but then again, maybe not. They may try and hire me back again.” She gave an exaggerated shiver at the thought, and he let out a low chuckle at her antics.

“I will not meet you somewhere. I will pick you up on Saturday from the Burrow. You merely need tell me what time so that I can be there at the appropriate hour and not awaken the gaggle of redheads.”

“That’s so kind of you, Severus. I will let you know later in the week when I have my plans solidified. I will let you get back to grading, and I will see you at dinner.” She left the room, and he went back to grading the red essay sitting on his desk.

*

Thursday he found a note on his desk:

Severus,

I have made a plethora of plans for Saturday, so it would be best to get an early start. You should probably pick me up around nine o’clock in the morning, and plan to be gone all day. I’m not telling you what I have planned, for that would ruin the surprise. Since the holiday starts tomorrow, and all the examinations are finished, I have closed the library, and by the time you find this note and read it, I will most likely already be at the Burrow unpacking. Oh the glory of Apparition. I don’t know how I survived the first seventeen years of my life without it. Anyway, enjoy the rest of today and tomorrow, and I shall see you on Saturday.

Hermione

P.S. Try not to kill any poor students. It won’t look good for you, and then all the hard work we went through to exonerate you would be for naught, so just try to not kill them. Failing them is acceptable of course, and yelling at them too. Okay, I’m done now. See you Saturday!

He put the letter down and smiled.

*

She had arrived at the Burrow. The familiar home was the same as ever. Even though nearly every member of the family had offered to pay for it to be fixed up, Molly had refused. She didn’t want to change a thing. The home was just that, a home. She had raised all of her many children in it, had loved her husband, lived her life, and watched her children get married there; she was not changing anything about it. It simply held too many memories. Each stretch of wall had a meaning: a crayon mark from Ron, a scorch mark from Charlie’s stuffed toy dragon, a black area where Bill had fired his first hex, a Bludger drawn on the ceiling from the twins, a lightning bolt carved into the floors from a much younger Ginny, and the perfectly organized bookshelves in every room were evidence that Percy was home and had come back to his family for good.

The house always smelled of a collection of scents. Cinnamon, chocolate, fruit, meat, and somehow the mix never smelt bad. Hermione took a deep breath when she walked through the front door, and a smile flittered across her lips. This home would never change, and she loved the fact that it wouldn’t.

“Anyone home?” she called to what appeared to be an empty house. A loud thudding of feet from above her head filled the house and shouts of “put some clothes on, Ron, for goodness sakes!” filled her ears. Some things never changed. Molly came running down the stairs, wand in one hand and a set of bright orange sheets in the other. She must have been working in Ron’s room.

“Hermione, dear! What a pleasant surprise, we weren’t expecting you this early. Go on upstairs and unpack. You will have Ginny’s old room. Ron is here already for the holiday. Most everyone will be coming to stay here for the hols, so it will be rather crowded.”

“Good, that’s the way I like it.” Hermione gave Molly a hug and made her way upstairs. She had chosen to spend the holiday at the Burrow; she felt like she fit in more there. Plus since the memory incident in which she had saved her parents’ lives whether they wished to admit it or not, she had spent as little time with them as possible. Any visit always ended with fights and her in tears, storming out of the house. So this year she had decided to spare herself the pain and heartache and just skipped their house altogether. She was picking them up to come over for Christmas dinner at the Burrow, which was going to be interesting. She passed Ron’s room on the way to Ginny’s, and she glanced inside. He was hopping around, one leg in the leg of his trousers and the foot of the other caught in the pocket. She released a giggle and he looked up, his concentration moving from his predicament to her, and he quickly fell over. She burst out laughing at the sight.

“Ron, what in the name of Merlin have you done now?” Molly shouted from downstairs. His muffled response was unheard by his Mom’s enquiring ears, so Hermione responded for him with a loud shout of “nothing!” She walked over to her wiggling friend and helped him stand up. He managed to get his trousers on and gave her a hug, telling her he was glad to see her. She left him to finish dressing and went to her room for the holiday.