"Hello, Hermione.
Hope to find you well. Ron and I will be shopping for our school supplies in Diagon Alley on Wednesday. Any chance you could make it? I realize it's extremely short notice, but I only got a reply from Ron yesterday. The Dursley's point-blank refused to allow me to go to the Weasley's this summer, because suddenly Mrs. Figg's been incredibly worried about my welfare. But I'm going to his house on Tuesday night for the rest of the break. If you can go, please send Hedwig back with a possible place and time to meet."
Harry Potter's untidy signature was scrawled at the bottom of the parchment. She had enough time later to worry about what Mrs. Figg was so worried about. Now she had to concentrate on informing her parents that she needed her supplies for the following year. Her Hogwarts letter had come just the week before, and her spellbooks were getting more and more expensive. She had to buy Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts, Advanced Arithmacy, Potion-make Deluxe, An Advanced Guide to Transfiguration, and Charm Delight (The Most Complex Charms for the Most Skilled Charmer). Not to mention the refills for her potions kit from the Apothecary, some eyedrops for Crookshanks allergies from the Magical Managerie(she found out that his eyes watered now when he wandered into the Forbidden Forest), and a birthday present for Harry.
What she would get for Harry would be the real qualm in her annual trip to Diagon Alley. What would a 16-year-old boy want? He had truly liked the Broomstick Servicing Kit she had gotten him for his birthday in his fourth year. Perhaps she would look around Quality Quidditch Supplies to see something that could benefit him and his prized Firebolt.
The normal sounds of a Monday morning were humming in the Granger household that morning. Her little sister was bounding up and down the stairs, screaming at the top of her lungs. She could smell the eggs and kippers frying downstairs in the kitchen, and could see her mother standing there in her pink frilly apron. Her father, by now, would be seated in his normal office attire. Since her mother worked for her father, she came in about two hours after him, leaving Hermione all alone to baby-sit her little sister. Any minute now, they would be yelling at her to come take a seat with the rest of them, and try to be normal. Well, sure enough. . .
"Hermione Granger! Breakfast is ready! Please, come down and don't wear that dratted cloak around the house! People will think we are weirdos!" Her mother's voice had cut through the silence like a knife, and she quickly hid her journal and gave Hedwig some water out of the tap in her bathroom. She purposefully took as long as possible to ensure her family that she was not in a hurry to be part of their average, every-day, Muggle, British lifestyle. What if she wanted to be different? What if she wasn't average, and she wanted people to know it? But her parents knew she wasn't average and didn't want people to know it. Her parents wanted her to be like a normal teenager. But Hermione wasn't normal, and her parents would never understand this.