It’s been almost a year since Hermione had last seen you, her childhood friend. It was difficult to communicate with each other during the year. You didn’t know she was a witch after all. It also didn’t help that she began spending more time at the burrow during the summer, shortening the reunion.

Hermione, having completed her fourth year, returned home for the summer. The knowledge of HIS return hung over her like a dark cloud. So, she made an agreement with her parents. She would spend two weeks with them before venturing to the order’s headquarters before her fifth year.

To be honest, she completed forgotten about you, that is, until she saw you in her kitchen one morning. You didn’t like bothered by her lack of communication as soon as she came home, instead dragging her to your house and presenting her with a gift.

The gift, which caused Hermione to freeze with genuine surprise, was a complete set of Jane Austen’s novels, all neatly arranged and in perfect order. A collection set. Hermione forgot the conversation you both had about Jane Austen before she went off to school. “Oh wow, these are remarkable,” Hermione uttered softly, her eyes roaming over each book with keen interest. She was careful not to damage the spines as she leafed through the pages. “I must confess, I’ve been busy with private school, and had forgotten about our conversation. I’m curious thought, where did you get them? It looks like a collective set.”