Chapter One

The sun was overpowering and most of the residents of Maple Drive were in a lazy stupor, slouched in front of the TV. The birds that usually filled the area with song and inhabited the maple trees of that street were also subdued because of the heat, seeking refuge in one of the many birdbaths that were available on Maple Drive. It was an ordinary summer's day. That's what it appeared to be anyway. Shattering the quiet, a black corvette traveled down the street, emitting puffs of carbon dioxide along its way. The passenger of the black corvette knew very well that it wasn't an ordinary day, for her anyway.

Leaning her forehead against the window the girl appreciated the air conditioning that the owner of the corvette had gotten especially for the summer's heat. The girl suppressed a sigh as she gazed at the passing houses, but that couldn't help take her mind off the extraordinary day she was sure she would be having. To be fair, the girl was far from ordinary. Hermione Granger had recently gotten back from her 5th year at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. For Hermione Granger was a witch, the brightest witch in her year in fact, but she wasn't feeling so bright at the moment.

Hogwarts always was an adventure in itself, but each year Hermione was involved in a struggle to keep Voldemort, a dark wizard that grown wizards feared to even speak his name, from returning to power. You had to be in the thick of the struggle if you were best friends with Harry Potter and Hermione was. Fifteen years ago, Voldemort killed both of Harry's parents with the killing curse. Voldemort tried to kill Harry too, but for some reason, he couldn't. The spell back-lashed and caused Voldemort to be in a state close to death. Ever since Harry's first year at Hogwarts he and his two friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, foiled Voldemorts plans to regain his former power. That is, until the fourth year, when Voldemort finally regained his power during the Triwizard cup, which Harry was an unwilling contestant of. Hermione's fifth year at Hogwarts was the most dangerous of her past experiences. She, Ron, Harry, and some of her class-mates barely escaped the Department of Mysteries with their lives. Harry had gone there in an effort to save his godfather from Voldemort and Hermione had followed. They soon found out that the whole thing had been a trap to get Harry to handover a prophesy, that was about his and Voldemorts fate. They had escaped with no lasting damage besides the fact that Harry's godfather had died defending them and that the prophesy had been smashed, forever lost. The only good thing that had come out of the year was that they had finally proven to the wizarding community that Voldemort had regained his power.

When Hermione had first returned to her home, she was restless. The homework, that had before interested her and kept her busy, didn't keep the thoughts that now invaded her mind, at bay. Guilt had shrouded her like a veil and she rarely smiled. To her parents concern, she was now reading more than ever. Her eyes grew red and puffy from not much sleep because of her reading deep into the night, desperately devouring the information she read. Hermione's guilt came from the feeling that she could have prevented the events of the previous year from happening. If only she had made sure that Professor Snape was teaching Harry Occulemecy properly or if only she could have proven to Harry that the recurring dreams he had been having were all a trap to get him to go to the Department of Mysteries. She wasn't going to let anything get past by her again. She was going to help Harry the next time because undoubtedly there was going to be a next time. Voldemort wanted Harry dead and Hermione was going to do her best to prevent that.

Hermione wasn't afraid to acknowledge her weaknesses and she knew that she was particularly hopeless when it came to pure instinct. At the Department of Mysteries she had watched as Harry had dealt with the death eaters, while she just stood their like a log. That wasn't going to happen again. Hermione was under aged and she was not allowed to use magic outside of school. Fortunately, what Hermione had in mind didn't involve the use of magic. She had theorized that she needed to be a great deal more athletic if she expected to survive another encounter with a band of death eaters. There was also the hope that being more athletic would boost her confidence. Maybe then she wouldn't freeze up when she faced the enemy. After spending a week shut up in her room, Hermione emerged and started running every morning, as well as kickboxing. Besides getting in shape, there was the wonderful distraction from her thoughts of not only Voldemort, but of the O.W.L. results, which she was sure she had done dreadfully on.

Two weeks after she started her training she received two welcome surprises, her O.W.L.s and letters from her two friends. Hermione was kickboxing in her room to an energetic pop song that was playing full blast on her radio when a white owl flew through the open window and landed neatly on her bed. Hermione stopped mid-kick and rushed to the bird. The owl was obviously Harry's snow owl, Hedwig and Hermione had been apprehensively awaiting his letter. Letters were the only form of contact she was going to be having with her two best friends this summer, at least until they were contacted by the Order anyway. Dumbledore, Head of Hogwarts, had told them that visiting each other would endanger their lives, as Voldemort wanted them dead as badly as ever. The Order was a society of wizards that were fighting off the death eaters since the Ministry of Magic couldn't exactly be depended on. Hopefully, Mad-Eye-Moody or Tonks would contact her before the summer was up. The Order was located in the safest place she knew besides Hogwarts, 13 Grimmauld Place, the Black Manor. There Hermione, Ron, Harry and the rest of the Weasleys could safely meet. Until then, though, it was only letters. Stroking Hedwig's soft, white feathers, Hedwig affectionately nibbled her ear, as Hermione eagerly opened Harry's letter. It was written with green ink and Harry's untidy scrawl filled up half the piece of parchment.

'Lo Hermione,

Life is pretty normal here on Privet Drive. Dudley got a new punching bag for his birthday. I expect Uncle Vernon wants Dudley to become a pro boxer. I really don't mind, as long as I'm not the punching bag. Anyway, whenever the Dursleys are gone I get to have a few whacks at it. It's better to beat the stuffing out of a bag instead of taking it out on you or Ron. Uncle Dursley is making me work at the drill factory, here in Little Whinging. Dudley's Uncle Vernon's assistant, no surprise there. Well, I start work in a week and I'm fine, really. Work will take my mind off you-know-what. I actually started my Potions essay yesterday. Knowing you, you've probably done all of your summer homework already. I received my O.W.Ls this morning. I'm sure you've got all 12. Professor McGonagal must have pulled some strings because I somehow got an Outstanding in Potions. Snape is going to be wretched this year. I have all of the O.W.Ls I need to take the classes I need to become an Auror, anyway. Hope your well. I'm sorry. Sorry about everything, but I'm fine. I know you'll worry, but I'm fine. See you at Hpgwarts if not sooner. By the way, Snuffles left me his dog house and some of his toys.

-Harry

Hermione stared at the letter, hoping it would reveal some hidden information. She had half of a mind to get her revealer out and start rubbing it on the parchment, but she knew it would've been pointless. Harry couldn't say much in his letter because there was always the fear that it would be intercepted. What information that was in the letter worried Hermione. Sirius's death must be killing Harry, but he only mentioned him once in his letter. Harry had repeated in his letter that he was fine, but Hermione knew that whenever Harry said he was fine he was the exact opposite. It was irritating when Harry bottled up his anger and sorrow. She was grateful that he was letting some of it out with the punching bag's help, but he had to talk to someone sometime. Harry felt guilty about last year. If there wasn't the possibility of calls or letters being intercepted she would've called Harry and yell at him. Hermione wasn't sure how she felt about Harry working for his uncle. If Harry's uncle was as bad as he seemed in front of Platform 9 ¾ then it was going to be as bad as slave labor. She had to hope that Harry would have enough sense to write to Mad-Eye-Moody if things got too bad. Sirius had left Black Manor to Harry. That was something to mull over. Hermione trusted Sirius, but he had been a troublemaker when he was younger. Whatever Sirius left Harry was bound to be dangerous. Lupin hopefully censored some things until Harry got older. At least Harry had done well on his O.W.Ls. She winced; Professor Snape was going to be awful this year.

Interrupting her thoughts about Harry's letter, a large brown owl fluttered through the window and landed next to Hedwig on the blue bedspread. Her heart skipped a beat. The bird was undoubtedly clutching her O.W.L results. The O.W.Ls decided your future in the wizarding world. To be an Auror you had to get at least ten O.W.Ls. No way was Hermione going to let Harry and Ron fight death eaters alone. Someone had to be there to keep them out of trouble. If Ron decided to become an Auror he would only encourage Harry. The trio was going to stick together. Taking a deep breath, she shakily untied the envelope from the brown owl's leg. The letter was definitely her O.W.L results; it proudly had a Hogwarts seal. Ripping it open, Hermione quickly scanned the letter. She had 12 O.W.Ls. Shocked she plopped down on bed. Ron or Harry would have been laughing their heads off at her surprised expression. They had no doubts that she was going to get 12 O.W.Ls. Hermione couldn't help being surprised. With everything that had happened last year she was sure she had down awfully on all of them. The good score caused her to smile for the first time in weeks, but it quickly disappeared.

A small brown ball of fluff zoomed through the window, causing Crookshanks to hiss from underneath Hermione's bed, where he had been dozing. Ron's owl, Pig, dived onto Hermione's bed. Hedwig shrieked loudly, apparently scolding Pig, who was now bouncing on Hermione's pillow. Goose feathers flew around the room and Hermione snatched the letter that was tied around Pig's ankle. Ron Weasley was Hermione Granger's other best friend, funny, and having a temper that was a tribute to his red hair, he was a member of a large family. Tearing the envelope open Hermione grinned as she caught sight of Ron's barely legible handwriting.

Hi Hermione,

Tell Crookshanks to teach Pig a lesson. He's been acting up lately. Mum says that Pig is behaving so strangely because he's bored. I think it's because Ginny is always spoiling him, the little git. Fred and George are up to their usual tricks. Their shop is doing surprisingly well, but that doesn't stop Mum from telling them that they could have had a 'real' job if they had only stuck around in school. She's really proud of them, though. I wrote to Harry and he seems to be doing okay. When he gets good enough at punching maybe he can take on Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. Maybe he can teach me and we can give them a collection of black eyes. I did pretty good on my O.W.Ls, got nine of them. I barely scraped by with enough O.W.Ls to become an Auror. Mum and Dad couldn't be more pleased. I'll never hear the end of it from Fred and George. They keep muttering that I'm a disgrace to the Weasley name. It'll be really quiet this year without them at Hogwarts. Don't study too hard Hermione, I know I'm not. See you soon (hopefully). Take your time sending back Pig. He was really driving me up the wall.

-Ron

Hermione had to sigh exasperatedly at Ron's letter. All of Ron's letters were amusing, but he was so thick. His letter didn't sound like that he suspected Harry of being depressed. Of course Ron just didn't see certain things. Pig had calmed down enough to lie still on her pillow, panting heavily. As soon as he was rested he was going straight back. One of her traits was tolerance, but even she wasn't that tolerant. She replied to her friends. She wrote encouraging words to Harry and wished him a happy birthday. It was not safe enough to ask questions about his inheritance, but that was near the top of her list for when she finally saw him. To Ron, she reprehended him for thinking that violence would solve his problems and warned him not to influence Harry that it did. After she finished writing with a flourish she tied her replies to Hedwig and Pig's ankles and sent them off. The large brown owl had left right after it had nodded approvingly to Hedwig, who had been sitting rather primly.

Bounding down the stairs and into the marble tiled kitchen, Hermione got herself a glass of water. While she was rummaging in the cupboard, Hermione heard her parents talking happily in the living room. Quickly, Hermione filed her glass with water from the sink and briskly walked into the cozy living room. Her mother and father were reclining on two over-stuffed chairs. Hermione couldn't think of two more unlikely people to be dentists. Her mother wrote short stories in her spare time, and her hands were often covered in ink because of it. She had often caught her with a box of chocolates, watching a Lifetime Movie. When Hermione questioned her on her moral standards as a dentist her mom just brushed it off between bites of a piece of caramel.

"All dentist check-ups for us are free dear. We like to take advantage of it." Her mother would console her before turning her attention back to the movie.

Hermione's dad was hardly any better. Not only did he eat junk food, but he insisted on sending people the same type of sugar-free snacks that had sat uneaten in the cupboard for a month before Hermione became fond of them. He also had a motorcycle fetish, which slightly unnerved her. His wife would not let him buy one, but that didn't stop him from talking about classic motorcycles non-stop or from engaging conversation with bikers about the brand they were riding. Once, Hermione had to drag her father away from a heavy-set, tattoo covered, scruffy looking biker who he had been having a lively discussion about the feel of the bike. Sometimes Hermione wondered if she was adopted, but she knew that she was just as crazy as either of her parents on the inside.

When Hermione walked into the living room her father gave her a wide smile. Tall, with a full head of thick brown hair, her father didn't even look like a dentist. Her mother acknowledged her with a quick motherly gaze, assessing any damage and what she felt about it.

"Hermione, I'm glad you're here darling, we've got good news." Her mother said. Hermione waited a little worriedly. Going to France would not be good right now. She needed to be their just in case.

"You're cousin Melanie is visiting tomorrow and she wants to take you out to eat. What do you think of that?" Her father explained. Hermione stood there, feeling a little confused. She had told them that she couldn't go anywhere casually. Doing so would only be tempting fate. Seeing the perplexed expression on her daughters face, Mrs. Granger continued.

"We have Professor Dumbledore's assurance that no harm will come to you or Melanie. So what do you think, honey?" Hermione smiled for the first time in front of her parents.

"That would be wonderful."

An unexpected bump caused Hermione to bang her head against the window with a loud crack. Her dream ended abruptly. Rubbing her forehead with the palm of her hand Hermione didn't realize where she was until she saw her cousin beside her in the driver seat looking back with an amused expression.

"Did you hit your head hard?" Melanie inquired keeping one eye on the road and one on Hermione. Melanie had dark blond hair and dark blue eyes. She was 22 and had just graduated from a muggle college. Melanie was now starting out as a marine biologist. Her specialty being dolphins. Hermione was grateful that Melanie wasn't the type to ask questions because she wouldn't know what to say if the conversation turned toward future careers. Hermione's cousin knew nothing of the wizarding world and it was safer and simpler to keep it that way.

"No, I'm fine. I was just thinking about something I read in a book." Hermione assured Melanie. Her own answer sounded eerily like what Harry repeated in his letter; I'm fine, just fine. She involuntarily shivered.

"Looks like you were thinking about a boy, to me." Hermione shook her head absentmindedly. She was thinking about a boy, but definitely not in that way.

"So what were you really thinking about?" Melanie had an uncanny knack for telling if someone wasn't being completely honest with her. If Hermione didn't know better she would think she was using Legilimancy. Melanie couldn't be blamed for being curious. Ever since Hermione's first year at Hogwarts she hadn't seen much of her extended family. They had the right to be wondering what was going on in her life.

"I'm just worried about one of my friends. He had a pretty rough year." Melanie almost swerved off the road causing a nearby driver to angrily honk his horn. She ignored him.

"You're friends with a boy?" Hermione was so worn out by the strain of the summer and the previous year that she didn't have the strength to feel insulted.

"Two actually. They're my best friends, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter." Gaping, but keeping both eyes on the road Melanie seemed speechless. Hermione, bored, looked out the window. She had had enough of this. There was always rumors, most of which were spread by Rita Skeeter, a Daily Prophet gossip columnist as Hermione scornfully called it, that she and Harry were more than just friends. That was completely untrue, she, Harry, and Ron were a trio, three friends. From time to time she wondered why there were no rumors about her and Ron. She spent equal amount of time with both of them, but then she came up with the answer. Harry was famous, in the wizarding world anyway, and rumors were mainly spread to irk him.

"Do your parents know your friends with two boys?" Melanie had apparently gotten back her power of speech.

"Yes. They've met them a couple times, but they really want to get to know them. We've been friends since I started boarding school after all." Mulling this over Melanie was silent for another short stretch of time.

"So, do you have a crush on one of them?" Groaning in her mind, Hermione thought of the most common uses for Dragons Blood so she wouldn't lose her temper.

"No. So where are we going?" Shooting a quick glance at Hermione, Melanie turned on the radio to a Blues song before answering. It was pretty obvious that she wanted to change the subject, but Hermione wasn't in the mood to explain to Melanie that she and her friends were only just that, friends.

"We're going to this cool retro diner in Little Whinging; it's always full with cute guys that work at that Drill factory near there. There's also the added bonus of catching the 'head honcho' there too. One of his Drill factories is near the ocean and is polluting the water. Dolphins and small fish won't even go near there. Does the plan sound good?" There was a pregnant pause before Hermione muttered 'yes.' Meanwhile, lightning quick flashes of thought were being absorbed by her brain. Hermione's mind screamed; Little Whinging, Drill Factory, Harry, job, Little Whinging, Harry, Drill Factory, Harry, job… She wondered if she should ask Melanie to go somewhere else. She wasn't supposed to visit Harry, Dumbledore had repeated thousands of times that it was too dangerous. Why then, did he agree that she could go? Calming herself she considered the likelihood of seeing Harry at the diner. It was slim, but Melanie had mentioned that the manager of the Drill Factory was going to be there. Didn't Harry's Uncle do something with drills? Even if Harry's uncle turned up there, Hermione knew he wouldn't recognize her. If Harry turned up there, then oh well. Concern for Harry overrode any further doubts and Hermione waited tensely in the car. It would be just her luck; or rather Harry's luck if something magical happened in a diner full of muggles.

When they finally entered the diner, Sweet Heaven, Hermione felt the strain lessen slightly. The diner was pretty crowded, but cozy with it's small round tables and tall seats. The furniture reminded her of a café she had been to in France. There was a faded jukebox that sat in the corner of the diner. A small bar was in the back and Hermione could see a group of workers arguing with the bartender.

"I don't have to drive far! Just give me one more drink!" But the bartender shook his head sternly.

"You know the rules. Mr. Dursley doesn't want drunks working at Grunnings. He'll have my head if you go back smelling like ale." With an undignified 'humph' the disgruntled workers settled for cider. Hermione scanned the workers for a certain familiar face. No sign of Harry. Melanie noticed Hermione's survey of the room.

"Looking for someone, Hermione." She teased. Hermione didn't answer and headed for one of the few empty tables in the room. Excusing herself, Melanie went in search for the 'head honcho' leaving Hermione to pick her order from the smudged, plastic menu. A distant rumble seemed to come close to the diner and sure enough, the engine was cut off. The door opened and Hermione looked up to see another crowd of young workers come in, one of them with a helmet on. None of them was Harry. Hermione went back to her menu. Chocolate Dream looked good, Hermione definitely deserved some chocolate. At least by her standards anyway.

"Excuse me." Hermione glanced up; expecting a waiter ready to take her order, but it wasn't a waiter. In a second, Hermione took in the recognizable features, the messy black hair, round eyeglasses and the unmistakable emerald green eyes. Harry Potter was in Sweet Heaven.

Before Harry could move Hermione had leapt out of her chair, almost knocking it over, and gave Harry one of her trademark hugs. To Hermione's surprise, Harry returned it. Once they broke the hug Hermione gestured to Harry to take a chair.

"What are you doing here Hermione?" Harry bluntly asked. He was baffled about seeing her when Dumbledore had warned them so many times that Harry could repeat what he said word for word.

"It's by accident really. My cousin brought me along to witness her work in action. She's come here to yell at that uncle of yours. Are they treating you right?" Harry gazed interestedly around the room.

"Where is she? I'll point her to him." Seeing Hermione's face gaining a severe Professor McGonagal look about her Harry answered her question.

"Okay actually." Harry leaned in closer as if to make sure no one was listening in.

"On my first day here, Uncle Vernon yelled at me in front of the workers. Blew a gasket. I was talking to one of the workers about magic and Uncle Vernon overheard. Then Uncle Vernon had a fit. His face turned red and he yelled at the top of his lungs. Fortunately, for me one of the workers had a wife who was a social worker. And he warned him that if he tried a stunt like that again he'd personally sue him. I've been trying to make Uncle Vernon blow up ever since." Hermione tried to appear stern and disapproving, but it was so hard with Harry sitting in front of her all mischievous looking. This didn't distract her from the pain she saw lurking beneath those green eyes. Harry had to talk to someone, anyone, it didn't have to be her as long as he talked.

"Oh, Harry. I've missed you." Suddenly, the black helmet that Harry had casually put on the table was absorbed by her brain.

"Harry James Potter! You didn't ride a motorcycle did you? You could've been killed!" She would've ranted on if it wasn't for the grin that had spread itself on Harry's face.

"I've missed you too Hermione."

Melanie chose that moment to appear. As soon as she saw Harry she did a double take. Hermione thought she was going to keel over in shock, but Melanie just looked at Hermione questioningly.

"I'm Harry Potter , a friend of Hermione's from boarding school." Harry stood up and shook Melanie's hand. The experience was new and strange for Hermione. For the first time, someone didn't immediately direct their gaze to Harry's infamous scar. Even though Melanie was a definite muggle she couldn't help being slightly surprised.

"Melanie, a pleasure I'm sure." Harry grinned at that. Hermione knew why, when she had first met Harry and Ron she had said the same thing, but not as sincerely as Melanie seemed to be. That was for certain. Before Harry could point Melanie in the direction of his uncle, Melanie asked a few questions.

"So… Where did you meet Hermione?" Hermione was very glad that she didn't go into details about her two friends and her school. If Harry's story conflicted with Hermione's, Melanie would know for sure that she hadn't been entirely truthful. The complicated questions that would follow wouldn't be very enjoyable.

"On the train to…" Hermione shook her head behind Melanie's back.

"…our boarding school. When we met, I knew that Hermione was a troublemaker. I can't tell you how many times Hermione, Ron and I had a close shave with the faculty." Smiling innocently, Harry watched as Hermione choked on the soda she was drinking. Coughing furiously, Hermione managed to glare at Harry quickly before explaining to Melanie the semi-truth.

"He's just joking. We've gotten into a couple of scrapes. Not entirely my doing. Trouble just seems to follow us everywhere." Her excuse didn't seem to make it easier for Melanie. Before she could, make a comment a loud noise erupted from where the bar was situated. Harry scowled and had his eyes on the cause of the noise. A large blond-haired boy was having a fit at the poor harassed looking bartender. His plump fists banged on the counter and his voice filled the now quiet diner.

"My father owns Grunnings! Where you get all of your customers by the way! I demand that you get me a beer! Now! Well move it! GET ME MY," The astonishingly fat boy never got to finish his sentence, for Harry had walked up behind him and had whispered something into his ear. Who Hermione thought must be Dudley, had paled slightly. Hermione had a sneaky suspicion that Harry had threatened to do magic. More than anything else, Dudley didn't want anyone to find out that he was related to a 'freak,' as he called Harry and his kind. Harry muttered a brief apology to Hermione before he escorted Dudley out the door. The jingle of the bell as the door, shut transformed the bar to the way it was before Dudley's entrance. Never had Hermione seen such a horrible person. More respect for Harry formulated. If she had to live with Dudley for the summer she would want to spend summer vacation at Hogwarts too.

"Hermione, have you been in trouble at your school? Did he have a motorcycle helmet? Do you really mean to tell me that you associate yourself with that kind of boy?" Melanie spluttered sitting hard on her seat.

"Melanie, Harry's has a great heart and he's a fantastic friend. He does have a motorcycle, but that's because his god father left it to him in his will. I proudly associate myself with that kind of boy, Ron is just as good a friend as Harry is." Hermione ranted barely succeeding in not stamping her foot. Melanie looked taken aback. Then she smirked knowledgeably.

"Does Hermione have a crush?" Hermione made a sound like that of a kettle over a burner.

"No I do not! Why does everyone think that?" Putting her elbow on the table Melanie matched Hermione's frustrated gaze. Staring at Melanie's eyes Hermione noticed something strange. Melanie had one dark brown eye and one green eye. Melanie blinked. Hermione stared even harder, Melanie had two bright blue eyes again.

"I don't know why, what about Ron? Do you have feelings for him?" Hermione leaned back in her chair and grinned.

"Hello Tonks." Nymphadora Tonks twirled a strand of her brown hair and took a sip of her coke.

"What was it that gave me away?" She asked curiously, looking at Melanie's reflection in a mirror that was hanging on the wall conveniently beside her.

"Melanie has brown eyes." Tonks slapped a hand to her forehead and sighed in frustration.

"I'm going to kill that Dadalous Diggle! I need accurate information! Not a half-smudged freshman photograph! Well did I at least get her character down?" Hermione didn't answer and glanced at the door where Harry had just exited.

"Why?" Millions of questions were buzzing in her head, but that one seemed the most pressing. Why would Dumbledore send Tonks, disguised as Melanie, to take Hermione to Harry? Why did no one tell her what was going on? Tonks, or rather, Melanie's face softened, but before she could answer Harry came bursting in. Grinning widely and slightly out of breath, Harry pointed to the door.

"Melanie, if you hurry, you can catch the great git. He's right outside." Tonks stood up, but Hermione glared at her dangerously.

"Er… How to put this, Harry I'm on order to direct you and Hermione safely to the Black Manor, on Dumbledore's orders. I can't tell you anything more" To Hermione's surprise Harry didn't seem startled by this sudden change of development. Harry scowled darkly at Tonks.

"Tell Dumbledore I'm fine here, thanks." Hermione wore a shocked expression.

"Harry." Hermione exclaimed. Harry ignored her and sat down. Tonks clutched a white leather bag that she had rested on the table and opened it hastily.

"At least read this. It's urgent." She threw an envelope on the table and swiftly left the diner, calling over her shoulder.

"If you change your mind, you know where we are." The envelope on the table was white and nondescript. That didn't keep Harry from eyeing it with intense dislike though.

"Harry you know we have to go. It could be something important. The Order…" If it was possible Harry scowled even more darkly. This wasn't good. Harry sometimes let his anger have free reign and this was one of those times.

"The Order… Do you know that they've been following me all summer? I can't even sit on my front steps without one of them lurking in the bushes. I'm sick of it. Sick of it. For once I want to have a normal year." He lapsed into silence. Hermione put her hand over his comfortingly.

"Harry." She said more softly. Harry looked at the ground blankly.

"You're not normal, but don't get too big-headed. None of us are and no matter how bad it gets you can count on Ron and me being here for you. I'll always be here for you, even if it gets really crazy" Harry finally looked up. He studied her as if he just saw her. Then all of the sudden he was nodding.

"Thanks Hermione." Hermione smiled and waved it off good naturedly.

"What are friends for? Harry I really think we should read that letter." He grimaced, but took the letter and put it into his pocket anyway.

"Where do you live Hermione?" He asked, standing up. Hermione hesitated before answering.

"Harry… Don't you think we should go to the Order now?" He shook his head and smiled, making Hermione blow out a little sigh of relief.

"I think we should go to your house first, then we'll go to the Order. I've never been there before, after all." He grabbed Hermione's hand with ease and led her to the door.

"Why are we going to my house?" Harry turned around, his green eyes sparkling, but with a set determined look on his face. Hermione sighed, knowing it was useless to argue with this stubborn Harry that had made himself known the previous year.

"How are we going to get there?" He didn't answer until he noticed that Hermione was no longer walking and he was dragging her dead weight. Dreading what he knew was coming Harry glanced at Hermione, who's mouth was dropped open.

"We're not taking that…" Hermione was speechless, but managed to get her point across by gesturing in the vague direction of his bike. Not even Harry Potter was getting her on a motorcycle. Despite her father's blood that coursed through her, she was on her mother's side on motorcycles. The best thing was to avoid them. The farther away a motorcycle was the better. Motorcycles were the same as brooms as far as she was concerned. The only difference was that on a motorcycle you only had to fall a couple feet to get seriously damaged. That was not an improvement. Open-mouthed she shook her head firmly. Harry just had an amused expression.

"How else do you expect to get there?" He was seriously insane Hermione concluded. The Rita Skeeter article was true after all. Harry Potter had definitely lost his marbles.

"My house is roughly two hours away. The Black Manor is probably 4 hours away in the opposite direction of my house! You expect us to get there on an ancient motorcycle?" Harry rubbed the back of his neck and looked slightly guilty.

"Well, my motorcycle has some…er…improvements." Hermione had to let herself imagine the improvements a bike that once been owned by Sirius would have. Surely magical, illegal ones. There was also the slight irritation that Hermione was aware that Harry was still holding her hand. Shrugging the feeling off, Hermione looked exasperatedly at Harry's hopeful eyes.

"Do you promise we'll at least read the letter when we get there?" Harry nodded enthusiastically. He seemed almost like his usual self. Almost. Besides, Hermione thought as she followed Harry into the crowded parking lot. There would be plenty of time to have a nice long chat with him. He had escaped saying anything meaningful with the agility of a seeker in the diner, but that would soon change. She couldn't help thinking as she looked at the back of Harry's head; Harry 1, Hermione 0. For now…