First Meeting

The house was a whirlwind of movement as the Dursleys prepared for their weekend trip.

Harry sat at the kitchen table, poking at the single slice of toast he had been given, while Dudley stomped through the house, whining about forgotten swim trunks. Petunia flitted about in a panic, checking and rechecking their packed bags, and Vernon was already red in the face, barking at them all to hurry up.

Harry knew better than to ask if he was coming. He never did. But just as they were about to leave, Petunia turned to him with a sharp look.

"You are not to leave this house while we're gone, do you hear me?"

Harry kept his expression blank and nodded.

"And no funny business," Vernon added, jabbing a thick finger in his direction. "If I hear even a whisper from Mrs. Figg about you lurking about, you'll regret it."

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Mrs. Figg would hardly notice if he disappeared for hours, she spent most of her time rambling about her cats.

Dudley waddled past with a smug grin. "Bet you're jealous," he sneered. "Mum and Dad said I can eat as much ice cream as I want."

Harry shrugged. "Sounds like a dream come true."

Dudley frowned, as if unsure whether he was being mocked, but Vernon had already yanked open the front door. "Come on, boy! We haven't got all day!"

With one last suspicious glance at Harry, Petunia ushered Dudley out the door.

Seconds later, the car roared to life, and Harry stood by the window, watching as they disappeared down the street.

The house was eerily quiet.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he was completely alone. No Vernon barking orders, no Petunia watching him like a hawk, and no Dudley waiting to trip him or shove him into walls. He was free.

And he had plans.

His dream had shown him something. A library, filled with knowledge waiting to be discovered. And most importantly, it had shown him her.

Harry had never been to a library before, not properly at least. Dudley always made a scene whenever Petunia took him anywhere remotely quiet, so trips to places like this were rare.

But now, with his latest dream pressing on his thoughts, he had no choice but to find one.

The first library was small and cramped, with peeling wallpaper and a librarian who eyed him suspiciously the moment he walked in. The selection was pitiful, mostly old magazines and books with torn covers. Harry spent a few minutes pretending to browse before slipping out the door.

The second was better, larger, with long rows of bookshelves stretching into the distance. He wandered between them, trailing his fingers along the spines, searching for something. He didn't know what, only thinking that he would feel it when he found it.

But it wasn't here.

He left, frustration growing, the memory of his dream feeling less like guidance and more like an unanswered question.

Then, finally, he found it.

The moment he stepped through the doors, he knew.

The scent of old paper and ink lingered in the air, and the dim lighting cast warm shadows between the rows of towering bookshelves. It wasn't identical to his dream, but it was close enough that his breath hitched.

He was in the right place.

Somewhere in this maze of books, she was here.

Harry wandered deeper into the library, his eyes scanning the shelves as he moved. The quiet hum of turning pages and the occasional whisper of voices filled the space, but he barely noticed. He was looking for her.

His dream had shown him a small figure with bushy brown hair, fingers trailing along the spines of books with careful intent. He didn't know why she felt important, only that she did.

He turned down another aisle, heart pounding slightly, and there she was.

A girl, about his age, stood in front of a towering bookcase, her head tilted slightly as she read the titles. Her bushy hair framed her face, and her small fingers tapped against the spine of a thick book as if considering whether to pull it from the shelf.

Harry hesitated.

What was he supposed to say?

Before he could decide, the girl reached for the book, her fingers barely brushing against it before stopping. With a small huff, she dropped her hand and took a step back, muttering something under her breath.

Harry took a breath and stepped forward.

"Having trouble?"

The girl jumped slightly, spinning around to face him. Her brown eyes widened as she took him in, then narrowed in suspicion.

"I just can't quite reach," she admitted, eyeing him warily. "But I don't need help."

Harry glanced at the book in question. It was high on the shelf, just barely out of reach for either of them.

"You could climb the lower shelves," he suggested.

She made a face. "That's dangerous. I might knock everything over."

Harry shrugged. "Or you might get the book."

The girl pursed her lips as if considering it, but then shook her head. Instead, she stepped closer and pointed. "I was trying to get A Beginner's Guide to the Magical World."

Harry blinked. That was not what he had been expecting.

"You believe in magic?" he asked before he could stop himself.

She crossed her arms. "I don't just believe in it. I know it's real."

His stomach twisted. She knew?

He studied her carefully, searching for any sign that she was lying, but her expression was determined.

"How?"

The girl hesitated for only a second before lifting her chin. "Because I've seen things. Things that can't be explained." She paused, watching him just as closely. "Why do you care?"

Harry wasn't sure how to answer.

Because he had seen things too? Because he had dreamed of this moment?

Instead, he simply said, "I guess I believe in it too."

Something in her expression shifted, suspicion giving way to curiosity.

"Really?"

He nodded.

For a moment, they just stood there, two children in the middle of a library, bound by something neither of them could quite explain.

Then she offered her hand. "I'm Hermione. Hermione Granger."

Harry took it without hesitation. "Harry Potter."

"Well, Harry Potter," she said, glancing back at the shelves, "since you're here, do you want to help me find more books on magic?"

Harry didn't even have to think about it.

"Absolutely."