Dear Harry,

I was kinda hoping to hear from you. You didn't...

Ugh!

I tear the page from my notebook and crumple it, throwing it on the floor in frustration.

'You can't write to Harry. It's not safe — blah, blah blah!' I say out loud. 'You all don't know what it is like for me to be away from him, not to mention this whole damned no letter thing.'

The silent walls of my room echo back at me. An all consuming stillness is what greets my violent outburst.

I get up and pace the room, straining to keep my hands to my sides. I feel like throwing things around or else crushing something between my fingers. Anything to take away this weird feeling.

The crumpled paper crunches under my feet and I pick it up,meaning to throw it into the dustbin. I tear it to bits instead and blow them into the air, muttering a silent spell.

The pieces catch fire in mid-air, floating down with mild crackling and vanishing before they touch the carpet. It is almost like a million stars falling to the ground.

I glide to the windows, the stone floor of Number 12 Grimauld Street, cold under my naked feet.

Very cautiously I pry open the panes, the frames groaning in protest. The sound was loud enough to make me jump.

I stop, looking around, half expecting the entire household to burst into my room to battle a bunch of death eaters supposedly attacking me.

The house is silent as death. I huff in relief, my breath fogging the glass. The moon is shining dimly, the clouds just skimming the borders.

'Wherever you are, just stay safe!' I say to the moon. I wonder if maybe Harry is seeing the same moon sitting in his room.

Or is he trapped? Maybe the Dursleys are torturing him. Is he locked up in his room? Hungry, cold, miserable — my hands itch with the need to send a message.

Maybe he who must not be named had gotten him. We wouldn't know anyway, with the Ministry trying to hush every sign of his return.

No! Hold your thoughts, Hermione. Harry is fine. At least physically fine.

I hear a tiny flutter with a soft thud. A little owl has slipped through the grills and landed on the floor, flapping it's tiny wings.

I move from the window and pick it up and the fledgling hides it's face in it's feathers.

'Hi there, what's your name?' I ask it.

It cocks its head on one side, looking keenly at me, it's round black eyes shining like beads.

'I suppose you couldn't tell me if Harry is all right, could you?' I say, softly.

It hoots, flapping it's wings again, leading to a few downy feathers fall on my hand.

'Silly me!' I cup it in my hands, setting it on the window ledge. 'Go to your family.'

I shakes it's head again and darts under my hands, flying to the table where a tiny photograph of me at hogwarts stood on a pedestal.

Harry had his hands in mine as usual, smiling in that 'devil may care' attitude of his. On my other side was Ron with his goofy grin, cautiously maintaining half an inch of space between out hands.

'Come here, bad bird,' I move to catch the little owl.

I see it striking the photo with its beak, over and over. And it was nuzzling against Harry.

'You know Harry Potter?' I can't keep the surprise from my voice.

It is then I notice a little white roll secured tightly with a string to its feet. I quickly untie it and peer into the paper.

There is written one single line.

'You all abandoned me.'

My heart feels heavier. Maybe the message wasn't for me. He won't write any names for the safety of everyone.

The 'you' is directed to us all — me, Ron, Dumbledore, everyone! Obviously he was feeling abandoned.

My heart lurches. How unhappy must he be, cooped up in that hellhole. He probably must be thinking that even we don't believe that Voldemort has returned.

It takes everything in me to not reply back to him. I promised to the Order, I won't. I trust them, but it seems no body cares about his mental state so long as he is alive.

I guess that's what we all are doing. Existing in uncertainty. Who knows what may happen tomorrow?

I sink into my bed, my eyes stinging. The scurrying noise indicates the departure of the messenger owl.

'Hermione!' I hear a voice at the door. 'Are you okay?'

'H-e-r-m-i-o-n-e' Ron's voice calls me as I sniffle.

His voice seems to fade away until it is at a distance, father and farther and faster — and I see a pair of eyes looking down at me— beautiful soothing green eyes.

'Hermione, you okay?' his  voice is laced with concern.

'Ron!' I gasp.

I can feel the wetness of the tears running down my cheeks.

'Well, Ron isn't here' the voice is angry. 'He abandoned us — if you remember.'

'Harry' I snap out of my memories. 'I'm sorry —I—I'

'Save it.' I can feel pain mixed with resentment in his voice. Ron's absence is doing is no good and we are no close to finding the horcruxes.

As I watch him helplessly as he turns away and enter the tent. I can't ever say to that boy what I feel for him.

He thinks I pine for Ron every minute while I just lose myself in remembering our past and how much Harry has always meant to me.

If only I could tell him.

A/N Happy Birthday Harry Potter and here's a new Fanfic. If you like it, I'll update more. Tag your Potterhead friends.