I’d spoken to Ms. Granger’s secretary to arrange the meeting with her. I’d been a little dubious about the phone number I’d been given to call – I didn’t think wizards and witches had phones – but nonetheless it had connected and I’d spoken to a very kind gentleman on the other end. He’d requested that I would swing by to her office, as it was improbable that she would have time to step away, being as busy as she was. I agreed, because I would do whatever it took to have coffee with one of the most famous literary figures in existence.

I had been given rather odd instructions about heading to a phone box in a rather run down area of London. Not being from the capital it took me a while to find it (I got off one tube stop too early and had to walk further than anticipated), but eventually I found it. Phone boxes stand out these days; there aren’t that many around now that everyone has a mobile phone. I stepped inside and immediately noticed that it was broken. Ms Granger’s secretary (Mr. Helf) had told me that that wouldn’t matter, and all I needed to do was lift the receiver and speak my name and purpose into it. I felt completely daft doing so, wondering if anyone was watching me talking into a broken phone, and nearly dropped the phone with surprise when a smooth voice replied. I gave my details to the disembodied voice, speaking into the phone mouthpiece, despite the fact the voice sounded like they were standing right next to me. I felt distinctly stupid.

The next thing I knew, a small white badge had zoomed out of where the change was normally dispensed, and I took it, looking at the perfectly printed text on the surface:

Isabella Hume
Muggle Visitor (Permission Granted)

Continue reading “Having Coffee With Hermione Granger”