They spent the next hour writing letters—one to Sirius, one to Lupin, and one to Hermione's parents. Harry added every detail he remembered from Dumbledore's conversation with the judges, along with a request for a faster communication method than owls.
When Hedwig finally took off into the bright morning sky, Harry watched her until she faded from view.
"Well," he said with a weary sigh, "time to face Gryffindor, I suppose."
"Study later or practice spells?" Hermione asked.
"Practice. My brain is fried."
On the way out of the Owlery, Harry lightly touched Hermione's shoulder, turning her to face him with a soft smile.
"Thank you."
The look in his eyes said everything else.
"You're welcome," she whispered.
They walked back toward the tower quietly, both thinking ahead—training plans, places to hide, spells to learn.
When they stepped through the portrait hole, Harry froze.
Neville Longbottom—sweet, shy, plant-loving Neville—was standing over Ron Weasley, who was curled on the floor rubbing his jaw. Neville looked like an angry tomato.
"Don't talk about Harry like that!" Neville yelled. "He hates the spotlight! And I believe him—he didn't enter himself!"
Harry blinked. Hermione blinked. Ron blinked up from the carpet looking offended by life in general.
"Uh… thanks, Neville," Harry said, stepping fully inside. "Really. That means a lot."
Neville turned, face pinking. "Er—hi Harry. Hi Hermione."
Harry turned to Ron. "Anything you want to say?"
Ron pushed himself up, mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "sod off," and stormed past them.
Harry sighed. "Let me guess—still thinks I did it?"
Neville shrugged. "Pretty much. But honestly, he's the only one furious about it."
Hermione scoffed dramatically. "Jealousy looks terrible on him. Absolutely terrible." She flopped into her favorite armchair like a small storm cloud. "He'll come around eventually. Things will go back to normal."
But her voice cracked at the end.
Harry caught it. And he caught the slump of her shoulders too.
He sat beside her, touching her arm gently. "Hermione… I'm sorry. I should've stood up for you ages ago. The way Ron talks to you? Not okay. And I'm not going back to pretending it is."
Her eyes filled instantly, and she threw herself into his arms with a wet sniffle.
Neville, wide-eyed, quietly retreated upstairs like a man who accidentally walked into a private meeting of dragons.
Harry let out a breathy laugh. "We're really emotional today, aren't we?"
Hermione giggled into his robes. "Just a little."
When they finally pulled apart, Harry felt… lighter. Stronger. Not fixed, but held. Supported.
Hermione wiped her eyes and declared, "Right. Training time. Up you go."
Harry laughed and headed to his dorm to grab the Marauder's Map and the Invisibility Cloak.
It was time to prepare.
Time to survive.
Together.
Hermione's parents were just sitting down in their dining room for dinner when they were interrupted by tapping on the kitchen window. Upon inspection, they discovered the most beautiful owl that they had ever seen sitting on the window sill staring back at them. Tentatively, Mrs. Granger opened the window and stepped back to allow the owl to hop into the kitchen and then onto the counter top.
Hedwig gazed up at the Grangers while sticking out her leg with the letter attached to it. Once she was relieved of her package, she began to clean her feathers while she waited for their reply.
After taking the letter, Mrs. Granger set out a bowl of water and some owl treats Hermione left for them to give to the post owls.
Annabelle recognized the neat script on the envelope while they retreated into the dining room to read the letter. "It's from Hermione." she told her husband after breaking the wax seal. Her facial expression became stonier by the second the longer she read. By the end of the letter her hands were shaking in anger and she was unable to form coherent sentences. Silently, she thrust the letter into her husband's hands and marched over to the liquor cabinet where she poured two stiff drinks.
When John finally finished reading the letter, he picked up the tumbler and knocked back the amber liquid in one gulp before blurting, "We have to do something about this." He practically growled as he waved the letter through the air while continuing his rant, "It sounds like Headmaster Dumbledore knows what's going on with Harry's relatives but he refuses to do anything."
All thoughts of food were put aside as they dealt with the contents of Hermione's letter. Pulling her husband into the living room, Annabelle sat down next to him on the couch so they could discuss their options.
"Does he have any other relatives that can take him in?" John asked his wife once they were situated.
Annabelle curled her feet underneath her legs for warmth while she tried to remember everything that Hermione had told her about the young man. Hesitantly, she said, "He might have some other family members somewhere but I don't remember Hermione ever mentioning them. My question is why wasn't Harry placed with a magical relative if he had any left alive?"
"I don't know." John mumbled while he thought over what he knew about Harry Potter. The boy had saved their daughter's life, at great risk to his own, in their first year of school. If Hermione's stories were true, he had also confronted and killed one of their teachers in defense of the entire Wizarding World that same year. Remembering something about a godfather, he asked, "What about his godfather? Hermione mentioned him at the end of last year."