♆ The Worst Birthday

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It was a fine, summer morning. Hermione Granger sat at her desk as the sun's rays warmed her face, frowning down at the letters in her hand.

Clutched in her fingers were two pieces of parchment; one from Max Mercer, her best friend, and another from Ron Weasley, her other best friend.

She'd been in regular correspondence with them since they had parted ways back in June at Kings Cross Station. It just so happened that the latest topic of their writings had been her third best friend — Harry Potter.

Hermione had met Max, Ron and Harry at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where they had all been sorted into Gryffindor House. After numerous wild adventures, involving several trolls, deadly plants, and a certain infamous dark wizard, it was safe to say the four of them were like family. They lived apart from each other during the summer, and had promised to keep in touch over the break.

Which was why it was so frustrating that she hadn't heard from one of them at all.

Hermione had not received a single letter from Harry. Not so much as a note, or a scrap piece of paper. 

Throughout the weeks, she'd had Fallon — the Mercer's owl — land on her window sill, delivering notes from Max, or Errol, crashing into her walls, carrying letters from Ron. But no matter how often she kept an eye out, she'd yet to so much as  glimpse Hedwig's snowy white feathers.

She wasn't alone, either; as a matter of fact, neither Ron nor Max had heard from Harry either, and the proof was in her hands.

She wasn't alone, either; as a matter of fact, neither Ron nor Max had heard from Harry either, and the proof was in her hands

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She hadn't the foggiest idea as to what Ron and the twins were planning on doing (apparently it was best to keep these things secret), but she desperately hoped it would work

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She hadn't the foggiest idea as to what Ron and the twins were planning on doing (apparently it was best to keep these things secret), but she desperately hoped it would work.

"Hermione!" A voice called from downstairs.

"Yes, mum?"

"Lunch is ready, come down to the kitchen!"

"Alright, I'm coming."

Glancing one last time at the letters on her desk, she sighed and got to her feet.

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⏰ Last updated: Aug 06, 2021 ⏰

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