The Grangers' house is situated in a well off neighbourhood—the kind that even the Dursleys wouldn't turn their noses up at—and Harry is at first a little nervous to enter. Mr. Granger, seemingly having seen his hesitation, lightly pats his shoulder and announces in a loud voice that it was about time Hermione's best friend 'that she could never stop rambling about' finally paid them a visit.
Their home is neat and orderly, but also bright and spacious. The walls are covered with pictures of Mr Granger, Mrs Granger, and Hermione in her stages of growing up. In the living room, Hermione's various awards and merits of achievements from her primary school days are still proudly displayed on a shelf.
"Come on." Hermione grabs his hand after he's had the tour and leads him upstairs. "We can talk in my room."
They're both sitting cross legged on her bed when Hermione receives a letter from Dumbledore.
Harry watches as her brows furrow with worry while reading it.
"What does it say?"
"Something about your mother's blood protection. He says it's fine that you're staying with me now since we were going to go to the World Cup soon anyway, but that you must return to your relatives next summer."
"Oh." He squashes down the faint feeling of disappointment and reminds himself that this is the answer he knew was coming.
Rip.
"Hermione!" Harry stares at the letter on the ground that's been torn in half.
"Nonsense! It's a load of complete and utter nonsense!" Her voice rises with fury. "I wrote to him about what they did to you, I included every detail you told me. How can he read that and still say you have to go back?"
"Everyone probably already knew," Harry says quietly. "I remember trying to talk to McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey and some others about it and they looked sorry for me. Not surprised."
"They knew?" Hermione's eyes narrows dangerously. "Knew that they starved you? That they locked you up with bars on your window? That they treated you like a child slave? And they did nothing?"
"It's not so bad," Harry gives a weak laugh and tries to lighten the situation. "At least I don't sleep in the cupboard anymore."
"C-cupboard?" Her eyes widen and she freezes for a moment before promptly bursting into tears.
"Don't cry," he takes her into his arms awkwardly and pats her back. "I'm fine. Really, I am."
She sniffles. "You won't cry so someone has to do it for you."
When was the last time he cried? Harry doesn't remember. Tears are useless when no one cares if they are shed.
Hermione's emotional response baffles Harry. He has never had anyone get so righteously angry or cry tears of grievance for his sake. It's a foreign feeling, like he's stumbling in the dark and might fall down at any moment.
"I won't let them take you from me," she murmurs into his shirt.
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Ever After || Harry & Hermione
Fanfiction"This Cinders girl is just like you!" Dudley snickers as he watches the television. "Dressed in rags, does all the chores, always dirty, and no one wants her. Even her parents are dead!" Later, when Harry lies in bed and stares up at the dusty cobwe...
