A Week with Hermione

Chapter 3: Monday

For the first time in months, Harry and Hermione had to wake
up before noon--at Minute="0">seven o’clock no less.
Neither of them begrudged the fact, keptkept somber faces as they helped
Mr. and Mrs. Granger load up the Volvo. Mr.
Granger’s father, Hermione’s grandfather, was showing symptoms of kidney failure,
and at his age the results were expected to be fatal.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> When everything was ready, the Grangers
approached the teens before leaving.

“Stay safe, you two,” Mr. Granger said.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He wasn’t smiling, neither was anyone
else. “If you need to go out, take the
bus, but be home before dark.”

 <
<

Harry and Hermione nodded their heads slow/p> /p>

“And don’t do anything . . .” Mrs. Granger started, a
worried look stapled to her face. “. . .
that we wouldn’t approve of.” She ventured
a smile but it was weak.

“You know where the emergency numbers are, Hermione, and
don’t hesitate to call Diane at the office if you need anything.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> From the sound of things . . . we should be
back by Friday.” With that, Mr. Granger
gave his daughter a hug and shook Harry’s hand.
Mrs. Granger followed, hugging them both before she got into the car
along with her husband. A m>A minute and a
wave later the car was up the street, turned the corner, and then gone.

Hermione sighed. “Grandpa.”

Harry stood silently next to her.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He wanted to hug her but settled for a
comforting pat on her shoulder. “I’m
sorry, Hermione.”

Hermione shook her head.
“It’s alright. It happens
eventually . . . right?” She said this
in a curt manner and turned briskly, walking back into the house.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Harry followed, not sure of what to say.

“We can go back to sleep if we want,” Hermione said meekly.

“It’s okay, I’m not tired,” Harry said.

“Neither am I.”

Still solemn, Harry decided that Hermione would cope on her
own terms; that’s just the way she was.
He tried to at least lighten the atmosphere a little by walking to the
kitchen and grabbing the loaf of bread.

“Want me to make you a sandwich?” Harry ventured.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> “That salami is just waiting to be eaten.”

“No thanks.”

“Come on, I’ll put some freshly cut tomatoes and a slice of
Muenster cheese on it. Don’t make me eat
all your food, ‘cause I will.”

At that Hermione
softly snickered. She looked up at Harry
and with a shy smile said, “Okay. How
can I say no to tomatoes?”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By noon Harry
could see Hermione was feeling better. After
vegging in front of morning cartoons neither had ever really seen, they played
a few movies and reminisced about Hogwarts.
The warm anticipation at returning to school that Harry had gotten so
used to feeling the first four years was now tempered and shadowed by dark
uncertainty and a tangible danger. The
two chose to ignore such unpleasantness.

Despite the looming cloud brought on by the failing health
of Hermione’s grandfather, the morning and early afternoon went by like any
other weekday. It was as if the
Granger’s had just gone to their dentistry practice like they did every Monday
morning.

While the sun was still high, Harry and Hermione got into
their swimming trunks--which were always moist from constant use--and jumped in
the pool to relax. Harry put his glasses
on the pool edge, thankful for the blurred vision.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> In such a delicate situation and with
Hermione distraught, the last thing Harry wanted was flaring guilt brought on
by unwanted desires. Before Harry could
dwell on it further a wall of water smacked him the face and cheerful laughter
quickly followed.

“Why you--!” Harry cried, sputtering, before responding with
his own army of waves.

When the sun went into hiding between a bundle of low clouds
near the horizon and their fingers looked like plump raisins, Harry and
Hermione got out and dried off. They made it inside just in time to catch the
ringing phone.

“Hello! Hello!”style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Hermione said, picking up the receiver
frantically.

With slight strain Harry could heat a tiny voice in the tone
of her father. “Hermione?style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Where were you?”

“Sorry, Daddy,” Hermione replied breathlessly.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> “Just got out of the pool.”

There was a suspended pause at the end.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> “Are you alright, honey?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Really,
we just came inside.” Harry decided he’d better go
change now, ignoring the short exchange between Hermione and her father.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> As he exited to the bathroom he heard the
mumbles of another, deeper voice come on the other end of the line. style='mso-spacerun:yes'>

“Grandpa?” Hermione said in a surprised tone.

Harry dried and dressed slowly in order to give Hermione
some time alone while she talked on the phone.
It was dark outside and and even though it was just past eight, Harry
started feeling heavy-headed. Waking up
so early really reset his system.

He walked down the hall toward the family room slowly,
trying to gather a convincing nonchalant demeanor, when he heard Hermione’s
voice tremble as she said, ‘good-bye.’
Harry turned the corner just as she put the phone back on the receiver
and looked up at him with glazed eyes.

“Oh, Harry,” she managed to say.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> “He sounds so weak!”

A tear escaped and traced down Hermione’s left cheek.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Her hair was still wet and starting to puff
out a little. As she stood there trying
to suppress a sob, Harry felt his throat tighten and a pain rise through his
chest. Without thinking he stepped
forward and put his arms around Hermione.
Almost instinctively she folded her shoulders against Harry’s chest and
rested her head on his collar. Only then
did she begin to cry freely.

Harry tilted his head and laid it gently on hers, speaking
soothingly the only comforting words that came to mind.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> “It’s okay.
It’s okay. It’ll be
alright.” He began to softly rock from
side to side. “It’s okay.”

And Hermione cried and cried.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Her tears soaked Harry’s shirt collar more
than her hair did, and as inhibition fled, her meek cries turned into loud
chokes and gulps. Harry wished he could
make the pain go away. His jaw tightened
in yearning as thoughts of somehowlingling her grandfather with magic floated
through his mind. But such acts were
illegal for a student and outside of the school.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Couldn’t something be done?style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Maybe he could send word to Dumbledore or
Sirius?

After Hermione’s bout of crying ebbed and steady sobs and
sniffles took its place, Harry made her a glass of water and absent-mindedly
rubbed her back as she drank. Tired of
standing on their feet, the two sat down on Harry’s make-shift bed.

“I miss him,” Hermione said between sniffles.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> “I rarely visited him, but I miss him.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> I wish I could see him now; I feel so
guilty.” She started choking over her
words and Harry hugged her again to calm her.
As emotional fatigue took its toll the two laid down, Hermione still
nestled in Harry’s arms. Harry barely
said a word, he just listened to her few anecdotes about her grandfather, and
when she last visited him. When a wave
of sadness would strike her he would hug her tighter and whisper, “it’s okay,
it’s okay.”

It wasn’t long before words grew more mumbled, thoughts grew
fuzzy, and awareness faded from their minds. style='mso-spacerun:yes'> The two descended into deep sleep still lying
on Harry’s bed, still moist from the swim, still holding each other, cheeks
touching.