Crimes of the Light

Chapter 2: The Weasley's

Hermione's PoV:

I had woken up, surprisingly, to the sound of the birds chirping. The peace didn't last long before it was interrupted by the familiar sound of apparition then the doorbell, I was scared. Could it be my real parents? I heard my mum shout for me to get the door, so I grabbed my wand just in case and walked quickly towards the door. My heart racing, I slowly reached for the handle and pulled the door open. But before I could even process what was happening, I had fallen to the floor with fiery red hair flying everywhere.
"RONALD WEASLEY GET OFF THE POOR GIRL, YOU'RE SQUASHING HER!"
"I'm not that heavy!" You sure about that. Ron is more oblivious than ever which isn't surprising he's never been the brightest.

"Hello Mrs Weasley, how are you?" I asked her whilst brushing the non-existent dirt of my jeans.
"Fine thank you and it's Molly dear, your part of the family"
"How are you 'Mione?" Harry. I ran to him and engulfed him in a hug. Of course, I loved Ron, but Harry had sent me a letter at the start of the holidays saying that his scar was hurting, and he was getting nightmares of him and Cedric in a graveyard and then the same flash of green light from the memory of his parents death and I felt sympathy towards him for having to through that alone.
"I'm fine thanks, just a little shaken up." He studied my face looking for any sign of a lie but found none.

"Wait what are you all doing here?" I had only just realised that Molly, Harry and Ron were all at my front door, you would think the brightest witch of her age would be a little sharper than that wouldn't you.
"Oh, yes sorry about that. Well, when we read your letter we all decided it best you come and stay with us for the rest of the holidays because there's only three days left so there's no point in only coming for a few hours." Molly, of course, being the caring mother, she is thought of others before herself, I loved her but she needs to give herself a break. Having seven kids isn't easy and with Harry there as well it would make her life so hard.
"I would love to come but I don't want to intrude, are sure it's alright?" I was on the brink of tears at this point because no one has ever really been kind to me other than a few people at Hogwarts and my parents. I used to get bullied at my old muggle school for being a nerd, and I will admit I did stay inside every day just reading, usually Shakespeare.
"Of course dear, your always welcome and we all need to go to Diagon Alley tomorrow anyway."
I'm definitely going to leave a few galleons for them then.
"Thank you Mrs Weasley let me go tell my parents and pack my bag. I'll be down in two minutes."

I hurried into the living room; told my mum I was going to a friend's house for the last few days of break then ran to get my already packed trunk. Stumbling down the stairs, I noticed my mum talking to Molly before pulling me into a tight hug when I reached them.
"Be safe Hermione, write to me every week and remember that Me and your father love you." My 'mum' said as tears ran down her face probably scared, she wasn't going to see me again.
"Don't worry mum I'll see you in a few months and tell dad that I love you both." I said, also with tears piercing my vision. I quickly gave her a kiss then went outside with Harry and Ron before grabbing Molly's arm and apparating to the Burrow.

When we landed, my mouth dropped open in awe of the beautiful garden, flowers growing everywhere, garden gnomes and a sign that said The Burrow in gold writing on a burgundy plate. Very Gryffindor of them. Then I saw the house, i felt so drawn to it. And even though it was quite small and higgledy-piggledy, it felt so welcoming and more like home than my dorm at Hogwarts.
"Your house is gorgeous Ron, oh my god!" Still in awe, I hadn't realised that they were staring at me like a mad woman.
"What?"
"Mione, you really think our house is nice?" Ron asked in disbelief.
"Yes, it's looks some welcoming and friendly." At my words Mrs Weasley hugged me and then proceeded to drag me inside.