Work Text:
Hermione was nothing but determined. Her quiet certainty was chilling. She would bring Harry home no matter the consequences. She was tired of adults sitting back, arguing and doing absolutely nothing while Harry suffered. It’s already bad enough that she wasn’t supposed to write him, but fuck that. She was done listening and doing things “for the greater good”. Harry deserved to be happy and not be stuck at his awful relatives.
That's how she ended up riding the tube back home to her parents, already planning how to get him home. She wasn’t worried about being caught. She was free to leave and to do as she pleased, as long as she didn't tell anyone what she was going to do. She was on her own though, since Ron wouldn’t be able to help her while his mother was around in the Grimmauld Place and the adults would just report her.
She remembered the conversation she overheard that fueled her determination.
The Order meeting ended just now and the members were about to leave. She hid out of sight on the stairs, listening to Professor McGonagall and Professor Lupin argue.
”He asked too much of them,” Professor McGonagall exclaimed.
“I know, but Albus believes it’s necessary,” Professor Lupin, or Remus like he asked her and Ron to call him, replied.
“They’re fourteen, Remus. For Merlin’s sake!”
“And Harry is fourteen, alone.” There was a beat of silence.
“He keeps writing. He’s frightened. You can read it from his letters,” she argued. Hermione knew what she was speaking of. She always clutched the letter to her chest, her heart aching, trying to be closer to him.
“Yes. I’ve read the copies Albus allowed through,” Professor Lupin sighed.
“Allowed,” Professor McGonagall said with disgust in her voice.
“He thinks any reply might give away Grimmauld Place or Privet Drive.” There was bitterness in his voice knowing it might be true. Tracking charms on owls was nothing new.
“This is his decision, then.”
“Entirely,” he agreed.
“And we are expected to enforce it.”
“Or at least not contradict it.”
“I’ve spent my life teaching children to thrust authority,” she said.
“So have I.” Another long pause.
“We could bring him here sooner,” Professor McGonagall suggested.
“I suggested it already,” he said tiredly.
“And?”
“Albus said it would draw attention. That patience is… necessary.”
“Necessary for whom?”
“For the war. For the greater good. Not for Harry.”
She had tuned out the rest of the conversation, having run upstairs to pack her things immediately, before taking the first tube home. They wouldn’t notice her missing until she was already home.
She got off on her station, walking the mile home. She opened the door to her childhood home as a sense of calmness washed over her. Grimmauld Place was dusky and a little chilling, and the portrait of Walburga didn’t make things better at all. Also, she much preferred the quietness of her own house.
“Mum, Dad! I’m home,” she called out. Her mother rushed out the kitchen, not having expected her to come home so soon at all.
“Hermione! What are you doing here? Dan! Hermione is home,” Emma Granger called out, hugging her for life's worth out of her.
“I’m going to get Harry. They want to let him be isolated for nearly the whole holiday while we aren’t supposed to write to him,” Hermione explained, dropping her bag. “I can’t bear him to be alone with his awful relatives.”
Daniel Granger meanwhile walked down the stairs.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he said, hugging her as well. “Did I hear you correctly? You want to bring a boy into our home?” he teased, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
“Daaaad…” Hermione whined. “It’s nothing like that. He is my best friend, he doesn’t see me like that.” Her voice doesn’t carry the convincing tone she hoped she had. “I will take the tube tonight and bring him here while it’s dark. It’s safest and nobody from the order will expect it.”
“Where will he stay?” her father asked, already knowing the answer.
“In my room of course.” Hermione looked at him like he had grown a second head. He hummed in amusement, sharing a look, agreeing silently that Harry was not a ‘threat’ for their daughter. He probably will be completely overwhelmed by the whirlwind her daughter will stir.
“Alright darling, but no funny business with your ‘best friend’ while he is here,” Dan said, his tone teasing but also serious.
“Daaad… stop it,” Hermione flushed bright red, challenging the Weasleys’ hair. She took her bag and ran upstairs, leaving her parents chuckling behind her.
She searched the lines they had to take back, preparing a backpack she would take with her, grumbling about the small space in her backpack, going over everything thrice and then once more. Her anticipation grew with every minute inching closer to midnight. When she couldn’t take it any longer, she bid her parents good bye and went to the stop, arriving way too early.
She rode the tube in quietness as there weren’t many people at this hour. The whole time she fidgeted with her hands while staring at the stops. The walk to 4 Privet Drive was a quick one. Soon, she stood in front of the damn house, looking out the window to his room. It wasn’t hard to find, since he told her they’d mounted bars in front of it one time. The holes in the wall were still visible.
She picked up a pebble, throwing it into the direction of the window, missing it. Her second try hit it hard and she gasped, covering her mouth with her hands at the loud ‘Clink’. She waited for him to come to the window. After a half minute the curtains ruffled and his face appeared. He looked down at her in confusion before brightening when she waved at him. He opened the window afterwards.
“‘Mi, what are you doing here?” he whisper-yelled, completely perplexed.
“What do you think, you goofball? I’m here to get you out of this madness,” she replied with a hint of amusement.
“Wait, where are the others?”
“I’m alone. Nobody except my parents knows I’m here. Now pack your stuff and let's get out of here. I want to go to sleep,” she urged him.
“Yes, ma’am,” he mock-saluted and she threw another pebble in his direction only for him to close the window fast enough to deflect it.
In record time he had his things packed up and in his trunk stuffed. As quietly as possible, he carried it down through the front door, only to drop it since he had to catch a brown haired guided missile.
They collided in a fierce embrace, Hermione having dropped her backpack as well. No words were spoken. He buried his head in her bushy curls, inhaling her unique, completely Hermione scent, the tension draining from him instantly as he relaxed into her arms.
Hermione only tightened her hold, anchoring him as though daring the world to hurt him. After what seemed an eternity, she remembered they had to catch the train and she reluctantly let go of him.
“Let’s go, Harry. We have to get going or we’ll miss the train,” she said. She took the cage of Hedwig, leaving his trunk for him to carry as they made their way back to the station. As they walked, she filled him in on what happened. She couldn’t tell him where since Grimmauld Place was under the Fidelius charm and she wasn’t the secret keeper to tell him, but that was the least of his worries.
The two weeks without any replies from her or Ron were devastating, but now it was over. He was so grateful for her to pick him up so soon,and he couldn’t thank her enough for breaking the rules for him. She sat in the tube really close to him, her thigh brushing his as if she was worried he might disappear.
The travel back felt shorter than the one to Privet Drive after she had explained everything. Harry didn’t notice they had left the tube and were walking again until they stood in front of the door to her home. She opened the door.
“Welcome to my parents home. Mum! Dad! We are home,” she called, knowing they wouldn’t go to bed until she was home with him, even if it’s now past 2 am. They walked out of the living room with a smile. “Harry, these are my parents, Emma Granger and Daniel Granger. Mum, Dad, this is Harry Potter, my best friend.”
“Hello, Mrs. and Mr. Granger. Thanks for taking me in,” he said, offering his hand to shake, which they took.
“Hello Harry, please call me Emma,” Emma Granger said with a smile.
“The same goes for me, call me Dan or Daniel,” her father said. Harry smiled, already feeling at ease.
“Great!” Hermione exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Now it’s getting late and we are going to bed. Let’s go Harry.” Harry looked at them apologetically before letting her drag him upstairs, missing the meaningful look her parents shared with amusement. She showed him the bath and her room, deciding to do the full room tour tomorrow.
Her room was undeniably ‘Hermione’ with bookshelves reaching the ceiling at the walls, in the middle of the room a fluffy bed that was big enough for two people to comfortably sleep in. In one corner was a big bean bag with a reading lamp, he could imagine her sitting there and reading for hours while in the other was a desk where she probably did her homework from Hogwarts.
Over the bed were three pictures. Left and right was a picture of Ron, her and him, on the right one was additionally Hagrid. The middle one was the biggest. It showed her and Harry laughing at each other before smiling into the camera while they had their arms around each other. He really liked that picture.
“You can put your trunk there,” Hermione said, pointing to an empty corner, opening the window to let Hedwig out to hunt. “I will get ready first in the bath. You can settle in the meantime.” She took her pajamas with her and left the room. He couldn’t believe how he had ended up in her room. Just an hour ago, he was brooding at the Dursleys’, wondering why nobody would answer him, and now he was inside his best friend’s childhood room.
He changed into his sleeping clothes while waiting for her to get back.
“Hey you,” she smiled at him.
“Hey yourself,” Harry said with a sheepish grin.
“The bath is empty. You can go now.” With that, he took his tools to get ready for bed once more. In just a few minutes, he was back in her room, standing awkwardly at the door. She was already under the only blanket, sitting against the headboard reading.
“Uhm, you haven’t told me where I’ll be sleeping,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. She put the book aside before lying down and opening the blanket for him.
“Get in here before you get cold feet. I hate cold feet,” Hermione said with a smile. He crawled beneath the blanket as well, noticing how everything smelled like her. She pulled the blanket over him and cradled him against her. He stiffened up in surprise.
“Shh, it’s okay,” she said soothingly. “You’re safe now, I won’t leave you ever again.” Her promise was everything he didn’t know he needed to hear. He relaxed into her arms, settling his head against her chest while she rubbed his back comfortingly. He fell asleep very soon after.
Emma and Daniel Granger came to her room only a few minutes later, checking in on the two teenagers. What they saw made them smile, knowing that their daughter would never let go of this boy again. And he wouldn’t know what hit him.
Meanwhile, Grimmauld Place was bustling with people. Professor Dumbledore had called in an emergency Order of the Phoenix meeting. They all settled at the kitchen table, some conversing between themselves, others looking like they wanted to be back in bed.
“Silence! I called this emergency meeting because there was a disturbance,” he said, looking around meaningfully. “Young Miss Granger has acted without authorization, bringing Mister Potter to her parents home. Harry must be returned to his aunt’s house immediately.”
“No,” Professor McGonagall firmly said.
“Minerva-”
“You may stop there. I will not discuss any plans of taking him back to that hell. I will discuss why though.”
“The protections-”, the Headmaster began.
“-could be installed elsewhere as well. You know they could. You chose not to use those options.”
“I chose the safest course,” Dumbledore argued.
“For the war,” Remus says quietly. “Not for Harry.” Dumbledore turned to him in surprise.
“You of all people should understand restraint.”
“I understand fear,” Remus replied. “And I understand what it does to a child left alone with it.”
“This is not about comfort,” the Headmaster tried to reason.
“No,” McGonagall snapped. “It’s about consent. You decided for him. Again.”
“He is fifteen.”
“And already carrying more than any adult in this room. That does not give us the right to abandon him when it becomes convenient.”
“I did not abandon him,” Dumbledore firmly intoned.
“You isolated him,” Remus said. “You ordered silence. You denied him his friends. And when one of them refused to comply-”
“-she endangered him.”
“She rescued him,” McGonagall nearly yelled. Silence followed.
“This cannot stand. If word spreads that members of the Order will act independently-”
“Then perhaps the Order should examine why a child, who is not in the Order mind you, felt that she had to.”
“Minerva.”
“No,” Professor McGonagall said. “You do not get to appeal to our history. You asked for loyalty. You received obedience. And this is the result.”
“I’m asking you now to correct it,” the old Headmaster pleads.
“By taking him back?” Remus asked.
“Yes.”
“Then I won’t.”
“Remus-”
“I will not be party to dragging him back to a place he dreads,” Remus said before standing up. “Not when he is finally safe. Not when he didn’t ask to be moved. And not because it makes our strategy neater.”
“This is bigger than the three of us,” Dumbledore attempted to reason.
“That’s precisely the problem,” McGongall said, rising as well. “If remaining in this Order requires me to ignore the welfare of my students when it conflicts with your judgement, then I cannot remain.” The silence that followed was heavy. Dumbledore studies her carefully.
“You would resign? Over this?”
“I am resigning from this Order because of this,” Professor McGonagall explained.
“So am I,” Remus agreed. Dumbledore’s expression finally changed to regret.
“I wish you would reconsider.”
“I wish you had,” McGonagall replied, turning for the door, Remus following her before turning back.
“For what it’s worth,” Remus added quietly. “She did exactly what you taught us to do.”
“And what is that?”
“Protect Harry. No matter the cost,” Remus said, leaving with McGongall. The air in the room was left charged with a deafening silence afterwards.
The End
