Hermione Snape and the Divergence Point Vol. 4

Chapter Three: Murder Boards and Confessions

Harry felt better sleeping on Ron's bedroom floor than he ever did in his own bed in the Dursleys' house. It didn't matter that he'd stayed up most the night playing games with the Weasley boys, the excitement of waking to a hot breakfast, and legitimate curiosity in how he was doing...it brought him up long before his slumbering best friend, who was only a mess of matted flaming hair cocooned in bright orange blankets.

He rose and dressed in silence so as not to disturb Ron, throwing on Dursley's far oversized jumper and jeans, along with a pair of freshly knitted red socks that came along with Hermione's most recent letter, surprised she kept to her promise after all that happened back in Japan.

Harry crept down the stairs to hear the familiar sounds of Mrs Weasley frying eggs, and the sizzling of bacon. He then heard Mrs Weasley's chipper voice as he approached the sunlight kitchen.

"Remind me again, dear," she said. "Do you eat eggs?"

Harry knit his eyebrows in confusion, he'd eaten eggs with them everyday since he arrived. Who could she be talking to?

He turned to see a petite brown girl, dwarfed by the huge table and her bushy brown locks..

"Hermione?" he said. "When did you get here?"

Hermione stood and the black knitted jumper she wore proved to be more of a dress, the sleeves trailing past her arms further than Dudley's ever did on his own arms. She gave a smile and shrugged. "Dad dropped me off about twenty minutes ago. I guess Mrs and Mr Weasley invited me to attend the World Cup with them."

"Oh," Harry glanced around the kitchen to search for the oversized bat hovering over him.

"Don't worry, Harry," Hermione sighed. "He left shortly after dropping me off."

Mrs Weasley placed a heaping plate of eggs, bacon, sausage, beans and tomatoes in front of Harry. "I invited him to stay for breakfast in my letter, but he declined. Though you could certainly use a hearty breakfast. Now, Hermione, your father mentioned you were a vegetarian. Are eggs okay?"

"I-erm-I'm a v-vegan, Mrs Weasley," Hermione nervously corrected. "So, I–erm–i-it means that I–erm–only eat things made from plants, like fruits, vegetables and breads...I-it's really a pain for others, s-so I–erm–I ate be-before I came."

"It's no trouble at all, dear," Mrs Weasley assured her, then examined her. "Though I do wonder if that's the best choice while you're still growing."

"You have no idea how many supplemental potions Dad makes me take," Hermione forced a laugh. "I-I'll be fine, Mrs Weasley. J-just don't go too out of your way to accommodate me. I-it's fine."

"Oh, very well," Mrs Weasley beamed. "Actually, Harry dear, why don't you wake up the boys? I should show Hermione around and get her situated in Ginny's room."

"No need, Mum," Ron said, groggily, rubbing his eyes. "I can get them. Did you say–" Ron stood taller and smoothed the wayward flaming spikes. "Hermione? When did you get here?"

"Twenty-minutes ago, or so. Morning, Ron." Hermione threw her bag over her shoulder and smiled. "Thank you, Mrs Weasley."

"Wait," Ron knitted his brows. "Is that all you brought?"

"Ex-extendable charm," Hermione looked away. "It-it's easier when I'm flying to Mahoukatoro this way."

"Really?" Ron said, his eyes fixed on the canvas messenger bag. "That's bloody brilliant!"

Hermione turned a violent shade of pink and stared at her feet. "Th-thanks."

"Language, Ronald," Mrs Weasley admonished. "Let's get everyone set for breakfast."