Hermione Granger and the Fate Foretold

Chapter 8: The Arrival of Harry Potter

"What? Already? When?" The questions burst forth from her in rapid succession.

"Dumbledore came around with him late last night," Mrs. Weasley said. "Surprised me and Arthur as well. He had told us they would be coming later this morning, after all."

Hermione's heart began to beat faster. Harry. He was here. For the moment, she resisted the increasing urge to crash through every door in the house looking for him. There was something unexpected stirring in her. Of course she had missed him, but the way she yearned to see his face right then was undeniably different than any other time they had been apart.

Mrs. Weasley noticed the look on her face. "I know you want to see him, but let's let him sleep for a bit longer. I'll be fixing him breakfast meanwhile."

Hermione only nodded before speeding off to Ron's room. She knocked and waited, restlessly tapping her foot.

"Yeah?" a voice came from inside the room. Hermione opened the door to see Ron sitting on the edge of his bed, casually dressed. Pushing aside the mild surprise that he seemed to have been awake for quite some time, she met the quizzical look on his face with anticipation.

"Harry's here!" she blurted out as soon as her foot stepped over the doorway.

"What?"

"Your mum just told me. Dumbledore brought him around last night. But she said to let him sleep. They must have gotten here really late..."

Ron promptly stood up and pushed past her, making his way to the stairs. Hermione hurriedly went after him. "Mum, is Harry really here already?" he began to shout once he was halfway down. "I thought he wasn't coming until later today!"

"Yes," Mrs. Weasley answered with a touch of impatience as Ron entered the kitchen. Hermione made it one step in and saw that Mrs. Weasley had not even glanced back at her youngest son. "But Ron, I don't want you bothering him," she continued, not deviating from her food preparation. "Let him sleep. They got here late last night and I'm fixing him something right now. Poor boy looked rather underfed..."

Ron quickly turned back and skipped up the stairs. Hermione spun on her heel with a huff and looked up. He motioned with his head to follow.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Where do you think?"

"But your mum said—"

"Yeah, we're not listening to her," Ron interrupted, rolling his eyes. "Like we're going to wait..."

Hermione considered saying something back, but she could not deny that she wanted to see Harry as soon as possible. And as blaming Ron if anything went wrong seemed appealing enough, there was no additional protest from her as they made their way to the front of Fred and George's room. The door was ajar and she hesitantly began to raise a fist to knock, but Ron, not wasting any time, kicked the door open and strode in.

She shot the back of Ron's head a glare, but stepped inside as well. She quickly scanned the surroundings and noticed a lump on the bed that had sprang up at the sound of the door crashing into the wall.

There he was. Her breath stopped and a rush of emotions burst from her heart and spread throughout her body. It was a mixture of joy and relief and strangely, melancholy. A part of her felt the same way she did after a long cry—empty. The hollowness then inexplicably threatened to overtake everything else and her knees seemed like they would give out if she took another step. She swallowed nervously and stood still as Ron marched over to the curtains and pulled them apart, granting the sunlight access into the room and causing Harry to glow. And nothing else mattered then. It did not matter that he was disoriented at the moment, barely awake and clumsily grasping for his glasses. He was here. Harry was here. Her eyes greedily absorbed the sight of him and she felt everything slow down as if her mind was doing all it could to extend the time she had to silently stare.