Forbidden and Wrong

Summer was the first time Ginny and I were truly separated since that first night we spent together. We wrote as many as two letters a day, and we would have written more if my owl could’ve flown faster. I wanted so desperately to go to the Burrow, but my parents wouldn’t hear of it. “You saw your friends every day for the last nine months, you can stand to be without them for a few more weeks.”

One day, I felt so tired of waiting to see Ginny, I decided to see if I could take my mind off her for an entire day. I tried books and homework, even cleaning, but nothing helped. Finally, I ventured into our attic in search of something to busy myself with. Maybe mother had old photo albums or love letters in which I could absorb myself.

I rifled through the dusty boxes, but found nothing of interest. I was about to give up when I encountered a box labeled “Hermione – Hogwarts”. Puzzled, I pried off the lid and picked up the first thing I found. It was a letter I’d written at the end of last year reminding Mum and Dad of the time the Hogwarts Express would be arriving. “I didn’t know Mum was keeping my school things,” I murmured. Continuing my search, I found a few old tests, a certificate announcing the number of O.W.L.s I’d received, my old supply lists, and every letter I’d ever sent home. At the very bottom of the box, I found a torn and dusty envelope containing my acceptance letter.

I sat back on the dirty floor, amazed at the memories assaulting me. Had it really been five years since I’d discovered that everything I knew about the world was incomplete; that there really is magic everywhere for those who know where to look? I picked up a letter, the first I’d ever written home.

Dearest Mum and Dad,
Hogwarts is amazing. It is the most wonderful place I’ve ever been. The professors are brilliant, and there is so much here to read and learn. I’m doing very well with my studies even with the new environment.

Do you remember what I told you about Harry Potter? How he brought about the end of the most evil wizard in history? Well, you never believe it, but he goes to school here! We’re in the same year and the same house, so we have every class together. He’s not so amazing as he sounds in the books. I suppose I wasn’t expecting him to be so… human.

All of Hogwarts is like that. It’s so different, but so much like the normal world as well. Students are lazy; teachers are strict, and so on. So many of them have no regard for the rules whatsoever. It’s appalling, some of the things they do, especially Harry Potter and his friends. Anyway, I must go now, there’s some extra reading I want to do, but I love you, and I will write again after Halloween.
Kisses, Hermione

So much had changed since then. Harry, Ron, and I had become friends, and I’d learned that rules were not always so important. And I’d met Ginny… I shook my head to clear it. “Boy was I uptight then,” I mused to myself.

“Hermione? Is that you, dear? Where are you?”

“I’m here in the attic, Mum,” I shouted. My mother’s footsteps sounded on the attic stairs, and her head appeared over the floorboards.

“What are you doing up here? Not doing spells I hope, that’s not allowed,” she teased. I sighed inwardly. Was my attitude so predictable that the idea of me breaking rules was laughable? “Oh, I see you’ve found the school boxes. I’ve been keeping everything from that school. Is that why you came up here?” she asked.

“No, I was just looking for old things. Photo albums, things like that.”

“Ahh. No, we don’t really have many things from when your father and I were young. That’s why I keep so many of your things, because I always missed having memorabilia.” My mother was drifting into her own memories.

“So you don’t have any old love letters that Dad wrote you or anything?” I asked.

“No, your father never wrote me any. We met at a dentist’s office when I was interning; and we didn’t date for very long before getting engaged.”

“So, you don’t have any love letters at all?” It made me sad to think that she didn’t have anything to look back at. But she never answered my question.

“Hermione, why are you so keen to go to your friends’ house? And why are you suddenly so interested in love letters? Are you-” An odd sort of smile crossed her face. “Do you have a boyfriend waiting for you there?” she asked suddenly.

I didn’t know how to answer. I didn’t want to tell the truth, but sixteen years of habit made lying to my parents difficult at best. I blushed and looked at my shoes. “I see,” my mother said, interpreting my reluctance to answer as shyness. “Well, then. We’d better get you over there then, haven’t we?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I looked at her, searching for the catch.

“Oh, don’t look at me that way. I was a young girl once. We’ve had you with us for most of your life. I want to see you grow up, but how can I do that if I never give you a chance to do it?” She smiled. “Now go and write your friends, and ask them how soon they can take you.”
Overjoyed, I threw my arms around her in a bear hug, then dashed down the stairs and into my bedroom. I snatched the first bit of blank parchment I could find and scribbled a hasty note.

Gin Mum said I could come how soon can I arrive write back soon Love Forever Hermione.

I was surprised at my haste; that wasn’t even a proper sentence. I tied the message to my angry owl’s leg. He tried to fly back into his cage, but I wasn’t giving in on such an important letter. I could be just as stubborn as Ron if I tried. After I assured him it was the last flight I would send him on all summer, he allowed himself to be tossed out the open window, but not without a hard nip to my finger. Smiling broadly, I sat down on my bed and awaited Ginny’s reply.

I checked over my trunk’s contents for what I’m sure was the seventy-eighth time or worse. Everything I needed was there, plus a few “extra” things I’d bought in London while my parents weren’t looking. I blushed, thinking of Ginny’s reaction.
On an impulse, I picked up the portable stereo I’d gotten as a birthday gift from my parents. Normally I would have expected more books or something else with which to study, but the year my parents took me to France, I’d fallen totally in love with French pop music. Father’d bought the player and several of my favorite CDs, probably as an attempt to make me shift focus away from my studies…

“Father never did think my devotion to schoolwork was very healthy.” Hermione paused her quill’s scratching, overcome with tears. “I’ll never see them again, will I?” she asked the empty chamber. The stone walls gave no answer, save to echo her question back at her. She gazed upward at the enormous stone figure before her. “You tried to take her away once, but you failed. No, it took a mortal hand to accomplish what you could not. No matter. I’ll join her soon enough.” Salazar Slytherin gave no more answer than the empty walls, but simply continued to stare blindly into the blackness of the Chamber of Secrets, unchanged, save for the desk Hermione had conjured there.
Hermione picked up her quill again and resumed writing. Their story was near its end.

Restless, I rattled around my room, wondering what was taking my owl so long to return. Perhaps Ginny had allowed it to rest, that sounded like something she’d do. She always had more patience with animals than I did. I couldn’t keep waiting like this, I’d go mad.

I had just started to cross to my bedroom door when I heard an urgent tapping at my window. My owl had returned! I sprinted to the window and yanked it open. The owl swooped about, skimming Crookshanks’ head before perching on my arm.

“You’re in a better mood,” I noted. “Ginny let you sleep didn’t she?” I removed the slip of parchment from his leg and allowed him to glide back out into the night. The letter, however, was definitely not what I’d been expecting.

Hermione,
Something terrible has happened. Come as soon as you can.

My euphoric mood dissipated within an instant. Something terrible? What could have happened? But that was not what worried me the most. The most frightenening thing by far was the letter itself. It wasn’t Ginny’s handwriting. “Something terrible” had happened to her.