27: Holidays At Hermione's

                                    

                                          
Dear Y/N and Hermione,
                          
Dumbledore told us to send you a letter after we visited Dad. He's fine, don't be too worried. The twins threw a hissy fit at Sirius for a while last night, and we were all sick with worry, but Mum's sent us an owl and he's apparently doing okay. 
                          
I woke up early today to write this letter to you two (I know, unbelievable right?) and you're probably already on the Hogwarts Express on your way back. Everyone here at Grimmauld Place is sleeping in, but at around noon we'll be going to St Mungo's to visit Dad. 
                          
I'll send you an update on how he's doing by the end of the day. Hope you two are doing well, Harry, Ginny and the Twins say hi. 
                          
Don't work each other too hard, 
                          
Ron
                          
The train was just about pulling up at Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Poor Pigwidgeon had been panting like an overworked horse when they spotted him at the window halfway through their journey. 
                          
Ron's letter had been oddly sincere, without a trace of his usual boisterousness. Though clearly written by Ron's hand, Y/N couldn't detect a hint of Ron's gregarious nature anywhere. It was to be expected, the poor boy was probably worried sick about his father, but it was odd to witness nonetheless. 
                          
The train, which had been slowing for a while now, at last, came to an inevitable halt. Y/N checked the time on his wristwatch. It was roughly four pm, which meant Harry, Ron and the others had already been and gone to St Mungo's, and were most probably back at Grimmauld Place, Ron perhaps eagerly writing back his letter regarding Arthur's wellbeing right this minute. 
                          
It wouldn't show for a while, though, as Y/N had only sent the exhausted Pigwidgeon back an hour ago. 
                          
Y/N gave the heavy mass slumped against him a soft nudge. Hermione had fallen asleep against his shoulder quite a while ago, her hair splayed all over the place, tickling his ear. 
                          
"Hermione, wake up, we're here."
                          
Hermione mewled like a cat in protest, clearly not wanting to leave dreamworld just yet. She turned a little, and Y/N suddenly found himself with a faceful of her bushy hair. In an attempt to relieve himself of the tickly sensation it left him with, he blew away her hair. He must have been too close to her face though, because she twitched when the air hit her ears. 
                          
"Oh, Y/N," she mumbled through a yawn. "Are we there already?" 
                          
"Yeah," said Y/N. "We should get the Crooks and Coco back in their baskets."
                          
Dragging along their trunks in one hand, and their pets' baskets in the other, Y/N and Hermione joined the crowd of students who were spilling out of the Express and onto the platform. 
                          
Children with trolleys and waving parents packed the platform at King's Cross Train Station. So well-timed and carefully observed were the emergences of kids with suitcases from the stone wall between platforms nine and ten that often it seemed children just appeared out of nowhere. As usual, though, no passing Muggle seemed to notice the oddly dressed children with even more so odd pets emerging from seemingly nowhere. 
                          
Hermione and Y/N dragged their trunks along the platform, passing through the barrier when it was their turn. Among the crowd of many heads, Muggle or otherwise, she immediately caught sight of her parents. 
                          
"Hermione, dear!" cried Jean Granger happily, as she and her husband rushed forward as they approached. She enveloped her daughter in a hug. 
                          
Adam Granger was also very glad to see his daughter, and mimicked his wife, also hugging the happy Hermione. Over her head, Y/N could clearly see the possessive father giving him the stink eye.