Chapter Text

1 Phone

Harry Potter was angry. When he had first heard of the Wizarding world, the name Albus Dumbledore was spoken with reverence as the only person who knew everything and whose opinion counted above any other, at least among the “light” inclined families. Hagrid practically worshipped the old man, and Harry, not knowing any better, accepted Hagrid’s opinion as truth.

Things changed, though. By now, he was mainly disappointed with the old man. As a headmaster, he should have known whom to hire and whom to let teach at school, yet Harry’s experience thus far proved this not to be the case. Quirrell had been possessed, a fact that such a great wizard as Dumbledore should have found early enough during the school year, if not earlier. Quirrell had also proved to be worthless as a teacher, stammering and stuttering, unable to pass the material to the students, and almost knocking them down from the scent of garlic in class. Lockhart, his replacement during the second year, although not possessed, had only used the school to further sales of his own books. As a teacher, he had been even worse than Quirrell and with looser morals, as eventually found out.

At least Professor Lupin taught well, but being a werewolf in a school full of children, despite all the precautions, was not very smart, as even Harry could see.

Then, there was the History of Magic. Employing a ghost as a teacher, while interesting as an idea, proved totally inadequate. The ghost was so boring that even Hermione found it difficult to stay awake during those lessons. Others didn’t even try.

Potions was a very important subject, Harry knew. It should have been taught by someone who not only knew potions well but could also explain and help students reach the understanding and precision needed for the subject. Snape was not even slightly qualified as a teacher, regardless of his achievements in Potions. A person who couldn’t be patient with the students, who exercised constant intimidation and was as unfair as possible, was certainly inadequate for the task.

Of course, the Headmaster should have known all this, but he preferred to look in other directions. Harry was wondering if the school and the pupils meant so little to the headmaster, or if he was using his position as a comfortable means for other ends that had nothing to do with the school. Whatever it was, it didn’t paint the headmaster in very nice colours.

Then there was also the problem of Harry living with his relatives. Why had Dumbledore brought Harry there in the first place? His aunt and uncle were certainly unfit to raise a child, especially a magical child. Hadn’t the headmaster checked before deciding where to leave him?

And now, there was also the question of Sirius Black. Didn’t the Chief Warlock, as head of the Wizengamot, have a duty to ensure justice? Was it so difficult to find out that someone was sent to prison without a trial? And once found, shouldn’t a just trial be a top priority?

Back at his aunt’s house after the third year, Harry didn’t have much to occupy his mind except these thoughts. He also thought of the one person who kept supporting him, who made sure to keep him safe, and who was becoming the most important person in his life, although he wouldn’t dare tell her that. He remembered flying on Buckbeak, with Hermione pressed closely at his back, as the highlight of the year. She was hugging him for dear life, of course, but he could sense that there was more than fear of heights that fuelled that hug, although he couldn’t say what.

Luckily, just before starting the summer vacation, Harry had the presence of mind to ask Hermione for her phone number. He knew she would go on vacation with her parents for a part of the summer, but the telephone could still help them stay in touch before and after the Granger vacation.

When Aunt Petunia left the house to gossip with some neighbours, and Dudley went to his friends, Harry picked up the telephone in the kitchen and dialled. He knew Hermione’s parents were working at this hour. He only hoped Hermione was at home and not gone shopping or swimming or… whatever.

The call was answered after the second ringtone. “Granger residence, Hermione speaking.”

“Hermione! It’s Harry. How are you?”

“Harry! I’m so glad you called. I was actually thinking of calling you, but after what you told me about last summer, with Ron trying to call you, I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea.”

Harry chuckled. “Well, it was Ron. He thought he needed to shout, and I could hear him from the other end of the house. No wonder my uncle became furious, regardless of his usual attitude. I believe that if you call and ask politely to talk with me, he may grumble a bit but let us speak, at least a short conversation.”

He could hear her giggle. “I can just imagine how such a shouting call could affect my father.” She then sounded more serious. “I assume you called for a reason, though. Besides wanting to chat a bit. What is it?”

Harry sighed. “I was thinking about all Dumbledore had done, and what he could have done but didn’t. I may not know or understand all his reasons, but the image I get when considering all the facts that we know is not very flattering. I was also wondering what I could do to change things the way I’d like them.”

There was a moment of silence, and he knew Hermione was thinking of all that he’d just told her, before she answered. “I think this needs a more in-depth discussion, not something we can do over the phone. Do you think we can meet somewhere and talk?”

It took Harry a moment to consider his options. “I’m not sure they would let me go anywhere, and I don’t have Muggle money to take a bus or a train. Can you come to visit here?”

“Why should they allow such a visit? Judging by what you’ve already told me, they seem to want you isolated, with no friends at all. Besides, I’m magical, and they would see it as a threat. I can ask my father to drive me there, but would it be wise?”

He thought that Hermione had a point. “But how can I visit you?”

He could almost hear her smile. “The way you travelled last summer. Tell them you have an errand for school and use the Knight Bus to go both ways. If you come here, we can spend most of the day undisturbed, while at your place it might not be so easy.”

Harry had to agree. “Fine, I’ll tell my aunt when she comes home. I’ll try to call you once I have her reply, unless she doesn’t let me use the phone.”

“Tell her you must confirm your arrival, or risk making some wizards come to check on you.” Hermione sounded so confident. He wished he could feel the same.

“Alright. Now, care to tell me about how you’ve been spending your vacation?”

“Nothing much, really. I’ve taken the books my previous classmates had used at school and started reading them, trying to keep pace with my Muggle education. I suggest you do the same, especially since you can use your cousin’s books.”

“I’m not sure he’ll give them. What else?”

“Oh, Mum took me shopping and bought me a new bikini for our excursion, as well as some more clothes, to account for my growth. We also visited the pool during the weekend, to swim a bit and get some tan, so we won’t burn our skin when we reach the Mediterranean beaches.”

“Sounds like fun. I didn’t get many chores to do. They practically ignore me most of the time, which is just fine with me. I actually need to finish cleaning the kitchen before my aunt returns.”

“Don’t forget to ask her. I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow.”

“I’ll ask her, and I’ll do all I can to come. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” she said, and he could hear the truth in her voice.

–..–

His aunt returned home half an hour later, seeming content. Harry dared ask her, “Aunt Petunia, I’ve got an errand that I need to attend to tomorrow. I suspect I’ll be out most of the day.”

She looked at him as if he were way below her notice. “And why should I care?”

“I thought you should know, as I won’t be able to do any chores.”

She shrugged. “As if you’re doing these chores all year. You’re not here most of the time, so it doesn’t really matter, as long as you don’t need anything from us.”

“Fine, I don’t need anything from you, except to call back and confirm that I can come, or they’ll come to look for me.”

She looked disdainful. “Then call them. I’m surprised they have finally learned to use a telephone.”

Harry was glad that she moved into the living room to watch a soap opera on the television. He closed the kitchen door and called again, making it short. “Hermione. She agrees. I’ll come soon after breakfast.”

“I’m so glad! I’m sure we’ll have lots of fun!”

Harry wasn’t sure what she was referring to. Judging by her behaviour at school, she could consider spending half a day at the library to be lots of fun.

–..–

The next morning, Harry didn’t even bother with breakfast. He just drank a cup of tea before going back to his room, hiding his wand in his sleeve and putting the remnants of his money in his pocket. He walked for a few minutes, putting some distance from Privet Drive and reaching a main road, where he boarded the Knight Bus. A few minutes later, he dismounted the bus, feeling thankful for skipping breakfast. Once again, he asked for an address not very close to his real destination, so he walked a few minutes to reach the Granger home, also recuperating from the bumpy ride.

Hermione opened the door as soon as he knocked on it. Harry was sure that she was waiting on the other side for quite some time. “Harry! You’ve made it! I’m so glad you could come!” She hugged him as tightly as always, or was it a bit tighter? He wasn’t sure. Besides, when did she get those boobs? He didn’t remember her as anything but as flat-chested as he was, even when she hugged him at the train station, only a week earlier. She couldn’t have developed them so quickly. Could she?

“Er… Hermione… I need to breathe…” he said, as she didn’t seem to let go. Not that he didn’t like her hugs, or even the new twin mounds that were pressed to his chest, but he was also feeling confused and a bit embarrassed by the way his body was reacting. He felt his face heat and something stir at his crotch. He had never gotten any real explanation about how his body was changing, about the birds and the bees and so on, but he had heard the older boys talk in the showers and didn’t need to be very smart or very imaginative to understand it.

Hermione also blushed nicely. “Sorry, Harry. I got a bit carried away, it seems. Come in! I have some tea and biscuits ready, and then we can talk about whatever you want to talk about.”

With Hermione moving a bit farther, he could finally look at her. She didn’t look very different than when they parted at the train, except that the bulge at her chest seemed more prominent. Looking more attentively, Harry also noticed that the rest of her body was no longer the body of a small girl. Her hips widened, her waist was slim, and her breasts seemed to fill. He could also see very nice legs coming out of the short skirt she was wearing. Climbing all those stairs at Hogwarts was probably shaping them well.

“Sit here and make yourself comfortable,” Hermione said when they reached the sitting room, motioning towards a sofa with a coffee table in front of it. “I’ll just go to the kitchen and bring some tea.”