Chapter Five
THE OVERHEAD ROUGE APPARITION
Madam Pomfrey finally agreed to release Hermione from the hospital wing eight days before Halloween. It was a Thursday afternoon, and Professor McGonagall allowed both Harry and Ron to leave class a few minutes early to help Hermione get settled back in. There was a lot of quiet cheering on their part and even a few tears on those of Hermione and Madam Pomfrey, but they managed to get Hermione settled back into her dormitory and back down to the common room before the whole lot of Gryffindors returned from their classes.
Things had been oddly quiet around the school since Malfoy's expulsion. Just as Harry had predicted, Crabbe and Goyle were utterly lost without their leader and didn't give anyone a bit of trouble. Even so, that didn't stop them from being in particular foul moods. Their involvement in both the Potions and Care of Magical Creatures incidents had lost them a combined total of four hundred points. Both boys were completely ineligible to go to the Christmas Dance, and Slytherin actually had a point total in the negatives for several days.
With Hermione out of the hospital, things slipped farther into the depths of normalcy. The three friends carried on as usual, just at a slightly slower pace. Hermione still wasn't up for her normal level of activity and tired very easily. She admitted it to no one but Harry, but her injuries also continued to hurt her. The group's numbers fluctuated as well; Anna was welcome to hang out with them at any time, and at other times Ron chose to spend his free time with only his girlfriend.
The Quidditch tryouts, postponed after the many disconcerting events of September, finally took place in late October, coincidently over Hermione's first weekend out of the hospital. With two open positions-Oliver Wood had graduated, and one of the Chasers, Katie Bell, didn't think she could handle both the team and her Head Girl duties-on the Gryffindor team, Ron was eager to try out, so the two boys helped Hermione into the stands, at her request, so she could watch. Anna, who had nearly as many brothers as Ginny Weasley, had grown up playing Quidditch, and Ron convinced her to try out for the Ravenclaw team. When the final teams had been posted, both were ecstatic; Ron was the third chaser on the Gryffindor team, and Anna would be playing Keeper for Ravenclaw.
In other words, everything at Hogwarts was as normal as it every was. However, the tide shifted on the eve of Halloween, and things would not be normal at Hogwarts again for a long, long time.
Halloween had never been a calm event during any of the years Harry had spent at Hogwarts. A troll had been let loose in the castle his first year, and he had attended a Deathday party his second. The Fat Lady had been slashed from her portrait his third year, back when everyone feared his godfather, Sirius, because he was an escaped criminal. Just last year, it had been the day before Halloween that students had arrived from Durmstrang and the now nonexistent Beauxbatons. He had hope that this year would be less eventful, but he knew as soon as he woke up on October 30 that something peculiar would happen that next day, for when Harry looked out his window that morning, a fog the color of blood had descended around the castle.
* * *
It seemed as if Harry and Ron both valued their sleep a great deal that year, for there had scarcely been a morning so far on which one of them hadn't overslept; the day before Halloween was no exception. Ron stumbled into the Great Hall ten minutes after breakfast had been served, sputtering and cursing, his hair sticking up and off in one direction. The first thing Harry noticed when his friend sat down next to him was the faint scent of last night's dessert, which Fred at one point had chucked at his younger brother, and he had a good feeling Ron hadn't had time to shower that morning.
"What's outside?" asked Ron, spearing his sausage so violently with his fork that Harry scooted away from him. "It looks foul."
"It's called an Overhead Rouge Apparition," informed Hermione. "In other words, it's the most forbidding fog in the magical world, except it isn't truly a fog. It's a byproduct of a mid-twelfth century curse gone wrong, and legends say it's the blood of the townspeople killed in the failed curse. It travels from place to place, undetectable to Muggle eye, and it scares wizards and witches wherever it goes. It sometimes signals death or destruction or misdoings, but it's usually just looking for a place to stay between signals."
Ron rolled his eyes, but Fred and George seemed intrigued. "That would explain it," said George.
"Explain what?" asked Hermione. "I'm only relaying what I read in a book once."
"I know," said George. "I was talking about the atmosphere surrounding the staff table."
Fred cast a look in the direction of the Head Table. "They're all talking in hushed whispers, and half of them look ready to pass out in fright. Obviously they know the story behind the mess out there."
* * *
Halloween fell on a Friday that year, and in light of the gloom settled just beyond the castle door, no allowances had been made for early dismissal of classes. Instead, Harry and Ron had suffered through double Divination that morning, followed by double Potions. Potions actually hadn't been as bad as Divination because Snape had been a slightly kinder person since what happened to Hermione. Still, he had about as much compassion as a pet rock, and he had the class prepare a brew so complex that not a single person managed to do it just right. He hadn't screamed, however, which would have been his typical response the year before. Instead, he shook his head, informed them they had received a failing grade for the day, and sent them back to their common rooms. Crabbe and Goyle had not shown up for class that afternoon.
"I still hate him," said Ron as they reached the Gryffindor tower that afternoon. They skipped the main area and headed straight for the prefect common area. There had been no real need for them to spend much time there in the past, for Hermione had been in the hospital, and the boys had their own room to retreat to. Now, it was coming in quite handy.
"He's not the easiest guy to get along with," said Harry grimly, sitting down on the overstuffed, amazingly comfortable sofa. "Today was really unfair. You could tell that he didn't expect anyone to be able to put that stuff together. I'm still not even clear on what it was."
"Queaselium," said Hermione as she reached the sofa, nearly collapsing on it. "It might not sound like it, but it's supposed to prevent you from getting stomachaches for the rest of your life."
"Too bad it didn't work," said Ron. He lounged back in one of the armchairs and kicked his feet up on the ottoman. "I have a bad habit of eating myself sick whenever we have feasts here."
Harry laughed, but Hermione had rested her head against one of the sofa pillows and looked ready to fall asleep. He shared a look with Ron. She'd taken a bad tumble down the stairs on her way to Potions, and they'd been worried about her ever since. "Are you okay, `Mione?" asked Harry, for what was probably the tenth time since the incident.
"Yes," said Hermione, a tinge of stubbornness in her voice. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because the last time I fell down those stairs, I dislocated my shoulder?" offered Ron. Harry would have laughed, but he knew Ron wasn't kidding. He was starting to wish the Queaselium had worked out, too.
"I'm fine," said Hermione again. As if to prove herself, she sat up as fast as she could. "See? Just fine. The only thing that might-mind you, I said might-be wrong with me is that I'm a bit tired. I didn't sleep that well last night."
Harry could have sworn she was doing her best not to look at Ron, but he didn't say anything. If she was, he had a good idea who was somehow connected to her restlessness. "Why don't you go take a nap, then? We'll make sure you don't miss the feast."
"That would be nice," said Hermione, and she stood up. With a hug for Ron and a quick peck on the cheek for Harry, she disappeared back into the main part of Gryffindor tower.
"Shut up," said Harry as soon as she'd left. The words were out of his mouth before Ron could even start sniggering. "Come to think, that's a good idea. Go-er, go hang out with Anna or something. If you let me sleep through the feast, I'll make sure you aren't able to snigger anymore." With that, Harry disappeared in the same direction as Hermione.
"Merlin," he could hear Ron saying. "I didn't even get a chance to laugh that time!"
* * *
There was no need for Harry's threat because Ron woke him a good hour before the feast, and they spent almost the entire time between then and dinner convincing Ginny to get Hermione up for them. She only relented when the two of them exchanged a shrug and nearly entered the girls' dormitory themselves.
The quality of food at Hogwarts was always exceptional, but it was even kicked up several notches whenever there was a feast. For that reason, the first fifteen minutes of each dinner was usually a fairly quiet one, filled with a lot of chewing and savoring. In those fifteen minutes, the three Weasley brothers alone managed to consume two entire turkeys. No one really spoke until Ron nearly met his demise when he chocked on a turkey bone.
"Honestly, Ron," said Hermione, almost gleefully. "You really should let that serve as a sign and slow down your eating a bit."
Ron shrugged, scooping another helping of scalloped potatoes onto his plate and digging in. "You just don't appreciate a hearty appetite," he said bitterly, through a mouthful of potatoes and turkey, just to spite her.
"Easy there, you two," said George, laughing. "The school rules frown on fighting."
"The school rules frown on a lot of things that you do," snapped Hermione.
"That's why we do them," said Fred, without missing a beat. Like his younger brother, he was still shoveling in food at a pace like no other. Around him, a lot of the girls had slowed their eating or stopped all together, but a few of the sturdier boys were still cramming their faces.
"That's disgusting," muttered Hermione. George must have overhead her statement, for her opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, revealing an unappetizing combination of beans, turkey, roast beef, and a dinner roll. Upon seeing this, Hermione turned a bit green and pushed her plate away.
"Can I eat that?" asked Ron, eyeing her chicken, which was barely touched. There was no more of it left on the table. Hermione gave him an odd look, and he snatched it off her plate. She shuddered.
Suddenly, there was a scream coming from the direction of the Slytherin table, and every head in the hall turned at the sound. A shocking plume of black smoke was rising from the table, and sparks were being emitted from seemingly nowhere. The smoke filled the room, just as the fog covered the outside grounds. Suddenly, Harry felt an odd choking sensation as the smoke filled his nostrils. Burying his head in a fold of his robe, he found it much easier to breathe.
Hermione was sputtering beside him, and he motioned for her to do the same. When she did, she gave him a thumbs up to show she was okay. The Weasley twins and Ron were doing the same thing, as were students up and down every one of the tables. However, the smoke had gotten so thick in places that it was impossible to see, and some students collapsed, having sucked in too much of the smoke. The room had grown darker and darker, and the heat seemed to be rising also. Dumbledore had jumped onto the staff table, waving his wand frantically and muttering all kinds of spells, but nothing seemed to diminish the amount of choking black smoke. If anything, more and more seemed to spill into the room from nowhere. A shower of sparks flew from the ceiling, and Harry began to wonder if a fire had started within the school.
Then, as quickly as it began, the smoke seemed to disappear from the room. Everything was covered in gray ash, and students started coughing and sputtering as they took in their first breathes of fresh air. All around, others bent down to assist those that had collapsed. Harry gave a long look down the Gryffindor table in either direction, and he was relieved to see everyone standing, looking as well as could be expected. The only person that seemed to be having any trouble was Hermione, and he put his arm around her for support.
"I'm really okay," she said, "just feeling a little light headed."
"I think we all are," said Harry with a cough. Even with her assurance, he didn't let go of her. He doubted Mrs. Pomfrey would be able to handle anyone else collapsing that night. He felt someone tap his shoulder.
"Harry, look!" said Ron, pointing.
The smoke still hovered in one corner of the Great Hall, and it had taken the shape of words: You will pay. It seemed as if everyone had noticed the message at the same time, for they were all pointing and gaping in the same direction. It was several more moments before they noticed what lie under it, a sight that was arguably more disturbing.
Crabbe and Goyle hovered a few inches above the floor, looking just like several of the students that had collapsed after breathing the smoke. However, there was one major difference.
The students that had inhaled the smoke merely had been stunned. What had happened to Crabbe and Goyle was much more permanent.
* * *
The panic that ensued after the smoke disappeared was like no other. A handle of students that had not passed out due to the smoke, mostly first year girls, simply fainted in fright. The Hufflepuff prefects had the sense to hold an impromptu meeting and try to restore order to their house; however, the plan backfired when a sixth year prefect took a nasty fall from the table as she tried to give instructions. There was a lot of frightened screams and dashing around on the part of students with friends in different houses. A first year Gryffindor managed to escape the commotion and drag Madam Pomfrey in for assistance. Even the professors were so concerned with the smoky message and collapsed students to worry about order at first.
Ron was one of those students to go wandering in the direction of another house. Harry barely noticed his absence, not even realizing Ron had left until he saw his friend shoving his way back towards the Gryffindor table. He had a grim look on his face.
"We're lucky," were the first words out of his mouth. Ron cringed as he was elbowed hard in the side. "Half the Ravenclaws and most of the Slytherins are lying in a heap on the floor."
"Is Anna okay?" asked Hermione, sounding concerned.
Ron nodded. "She said the smoke was so thick around their table that a lot of them didn't see everyone covering their mouths."
"SILENCIO!"
The three friends turned around quickly to see Dumbledore hovering in midair, his wand in his hands. He did not look well. Everyone waited for him to say something more, but he just turned and floated back to the ground. Harry turned to say something to Ron and Hermione, but he noticed Professor McGonagall pushing her way through the aisle between the tables.
"Harry! Ron! Hermione!" The three looked at her, surprised to see the stern witch look so frazzled. She looked rattled, but very relieved to find them, and wasted no time giving them directions.
"Get everyone back to the Gryffindor tower. Do not let them go into the separate dormitories. Stay in the common room, and don't let anyone for any reason. I'll be there in a few minutes," ordered Professor McGonagall. She turned to leave almost immediately, and Harry saw the older prefects pushing their way towards them.
Fifteen minutes later, all the Gryffindors were packed into their common room. While the room was usually bursting with sound, it was unusually quiet, as if everyone had finally realized how awful the situation was. Some of the prefects were pacing at the back of the room, nervous looks on their faces, and others had sat down, looking stunned. Hermione was part of the latter group, but Harry and Ron weren't calm enough to do so. While everyone was anxious, probably no one was more so than the three of them. They didn't admit it, but it was obvious they were all thinking the same thing: Voldemort.
Finally, Ron got the courage to speak. "It's been almost an hour," he said nervously. "Do you think Professor McGonagall will be back soon?"
"I'm sure it can't be much longer now," said Harry. His teeth were clenched, almost like he was angry. That wasn't the case. He was afraid of what he might start saying if he didn't keep his mouth shut. He didn't want to start in with his suspicions about Voldemort and the Dark Arts and send everyone into a panic.
"Surely," said Hermione airily. She looked paler than anyone else in the room. Ron stopped pacing and sat down next to her. Most of the other prefects had already done so, and Harry was the only one in the entire room left on his feet. However, he did not sit down, but he did step closer to his friends.
"Something's not right," said Harry in a low whisper.
"You noticed?" hissed Ron. "Half the school just passed out because smoke filled the Great Hall, and then the smoke clears to reveal a slightly disturbing message! I say something's not right."
"No, I know," said Harry, still whispering. "I just have this feeling. Professor McGonagall should have been back by now."
Hermione's eyes grew wide. "Your scar isn't hurting, is it, Harry?"
Harry hadn't even thought of his scar, but at her words, his hand flew to his forehead. He began shaking his head. "No. I'm not sure what it is, but something's just not right."
At about that moment, Professor Lupin burst into the Gryffindor common room. There were mutters and gasps all around; never before had a teacher other than Professor McGonagall entered Gryffindor tower.
"Everyone but the prefects needs to go straight to their dormitories. Do not stop along the way, and lock the door once you're in there," barked Lupin. The Gryffindors just stared at him, not moving. "Go!" he commanded.
The room cleared almost immediately. In just over a minute, the only people left in the room were the prefects and Lupin. He turned to them, looking much kinder.
"I can't tell you what's happened now," he said, "but I can tell you that it will be a very long night. I must get back to the rest of the staff, and it is up to you to watch over this tower. There is a good chance someone may try to enter the school tonight, and there is nothing to assure the Fat Lady can stop them. Have your wands, and be alert."
"But what are we supposed to do if someone does enter?" one of the seventh years wanted to know.
Lupin did not answer him directly. "Dumbledore has recommended that you sleep in shifts. Should anything-and I mean anything-out of the usual happen, you are to wake the others at once. We will be able to tell if any magic is used in this room," he said sharply, and he turned to face Ron and Hermione. "The two of you will have the first watch. The rest of you-to sleep!"
He scrambled back towards the portrait hole, bumping against Hermione on his way. When he passed a small parcel into her hand, she realized it was deliberate. She was about to say something, but he leaned in and whispered.
"Don't open this until the rest are asleep. Show no one but Ron," he whispered. He cleared his throat and returned to his normal voice. He waved his wand nonchalantly. "Pardon me, Miss Granger."
Lupin was out the door in an instant. Harry sent an apologetic look to his friends and was about to offer his help, but he felt himself growing drowsily. All around him, the other prefects were already fast asleep. His eyelids grew heavy, and that was the last he remembered.
* * *
Hermione was startled to see all the prefects drop to sleep right where they were. Her eyes grew wide, and a glance at Ron told her that she wasn't nearly as startled as he was. He'd grown unusually pale and looked ready to pass out himself. Harry was the last prefect to close his eyes, and when he let out a snore, she began to open the note.
"He must have cast a sleeping spell," muttered Hermione, beckoning Ron over to her side. "He gave me this," she said quietly. "He told me to open it with you once they were all asleep."
Ron and Hermione,
I apologize if I've startled you. There was no other way. You will receive a visitor tonight, but he will not be a cause for alarm. His information is for you and for you alone. Tell no one what you see, not even Harry.
Moony
Hermione and Ron looked at each other, not saying a word. They both sat down again, their backs against the wall. After the longest time, Ron spoke. "I think it's going to be Sirius."
Hermione looked at him strangely. "Why do you think that?" she asked. She didn't give him a chance to answer. "If it was Sirius, why would Professor Lupin's note tell us not to tell Harry? Surely he would allow Sirius to see his own godson."
Ron shook his head. "I'm still positive it's Sirius. Maybe it's something about Harry. I don't know why Professor Lupin said that, but Sirius is the only logical possibility."
"Logical?" scoffed Hermione. She didn't look trusting. "And how did you come up with your prediction?"
"It's the only thing that makes sense!" said Ron fervently. "First off, he wouldn't knowingly allow us a visitor if he knew he wasn't someone safe, and Sirius wouldn't do anything to us. Then, when Lupin was talking to all us prefects, he said all that about getting past the Fat Lady. Sirius has gotten into the Gryffindor tower twice before, he could do it a third time! Finally, he signed the note, `Moony'! If he didn't have a reason for doing that, he would have just signed it `Professor Lupin'! It all makes sense!"
Hermione looked at him uncertainly, but Ron could tell by looking in her eyes that she was just disappointed she hadn't seen all the signs herself. "So we're going to be visited by Sirius," she said finally.
"I'm willing to bet on it," said Ron. "I just hope he comes soon, if he's coming."
"If he's coming? Who's uncertain now?" asked Hermione.
Ron blushed. "I know it's him," said Ron. "I just think it's odd that he hasn't come yet-"
He was interrupted by a slow creak of the door as it opened. Ron and Hermione were on their feet immediately, but the shadows cast by the few candles still burning made it impossible to see just what was moving in the darkness.
"Get out your wand," said Ron nervously. "Just in case." Hermione brushed against him as she reached into her pocket for her wand. He had been so sure that Sirius was the visitor, but now he felt uncertain.
There was no need. A shaggy black dog emerged from the shadows, and its mouth was open in a dog sort of smile. The dog ran over to Hermione and Ron and began to nudge them in the direction of the shadows. They followed him willingly. Once they were in the corner, away from the sleeping prefects, the dog turned into Harry's godfather. He looked better than he had the last time they'd seen him; he wasn't nearly as thin, and he'd finally cast off the shaggy robes he'd escaped from Azkaban in for tidy gray ones. He greeted both Hermione and Ron warmly.
"You're both looking well," said Sirius, giving them awkward hugs. "I don't have long, but I have to talk to you. I have to warn you."
Ron wasn't paying attention. "Do you know what happened earlier tonight?"
"Why us?" wondered Hermione. "Why didn't you want to talk to Harry? He's your godson, after all!"
Sirius shook his head. "In good time," he said, not explaining what he meant. "I can't tell you what happened tonight, Ron, not yet. You'll know soon enough. As for Harry-" Sirius broke off, stepping out of the shadows towards the prefects. He bent down over Harry's sleeping form. He returned to Hermione and Ron, his eyes sparkling.
"It's good to see him," he said finally, "but the timing isn't right. It's not my time to talk to him, but it is my duty to speak with you."
"Why us?" asked Ron impatiently.
Sirius chose to ignore their questions this time. "I don't have long," he said, beginning to pace. "Voldemort has returned. He's been to Beauxbatons, and he's been to Durmstrang-"
He broke off, looking annoyed with himself. "Forget you heard that," he ordered, and his voice grew gentle, but rushed, once more. "Voldemort is trying to bring himself back to power by attacking our most valuable resource. If no schools exist to teach the youngest witches and wizards, they will not have the ability to fight him. There is no guarantee, but it's likely he will try to return to Hogwarts-"
"So what happened tonight was because of You-Know-Who?" interrupted Hermione.
"Voldemort," said Sirius sternly. "Don't be afraid to call him by his name, Hermione. That goes for you, as well, Ron. It is essential that you both stop this You-Know-Who nonsense. I haven't the time to explain, but you must do it!"
"We will," said Ron. Hermione nodded.
"That's good," said Sirius. He stopped pacing. "We aren't sure what he will do in the manner of Hogwarts. He wants to return to power, but there is only one person who could possibly stop him, and that person is here."
"Harry?" asked Hermione, her voice barely a whisper. Ron sucked in his breath.
"Yes," said Sirius gravely. "It is Harry. All along, he's been the only one capable of stopping Voldemort. However, he's also been used to restore Voldemort to his form, and for that, Harry's abilities are weakened. Harry cannot defeat Voldemort again, not alone, he can't."
Sirius stopped. His face was very grim, very serious. He touched Ron's shoulder, and then he tapped Hermione's. "If," he said, "or when Voldemort comes here, the power to destroy him lies in the two of you. I can't explain why or how, you will understand that if the time comes. I warn you only because you must know.
"You mustn't be afraid," said Sirius, "even in the face of Voldemort. The situation in which it must be done could involve either of you, or even both of you. It will be dangerous, and sacrifices will be made-"
He broke off again, and this time, there were tears in his eyes. "It could be either of you, or it could be Harry. I shouldn't be asking you this, but you must be willing. If the issue is death, it will find you no matter what you try. It is your decision to let it come in the face of bravery or in the face of cowardice. Do you understand me?"
"Yes," said Ron weakly.
"Yes," echoed Hermione. Suddenly, Sirius stepped forward, reaching toward her neck.
"Hermione," he said oddly, "what are you wearing?
Hermione's hands flew to her neck. "This?" she asked nervously. Sirius nodded. "It's just a necklace. Harry gave it to me-"
"He made it in Transfigurations," explained Ron. Sirius had begun rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, reaching his hand to his face.
Then, he stopped as suddenly as he had begun. "Yes," said Sirius. "I know. I-I'm sorry if I've scared you. I'm the only one that wanted to tell you. Everyone else thinks you to be too young. I look at it this way," he paused, "if you are old enough to take on Voldemort, then you are old enough to hear the consequences of doing so. I haven't meant to scare you. I just want you to know. The key is within you. Do not tell Harry."
He smiled apologetically, and he backed away, as if to transform back into a dog. Hermione and Ron began to step back, but he grabbed Ron's shoulder as soon as Hermione was out of earshot.
"If anything should happen to Harry," whispered Sirius, "protect Hermione. If anything should happen to Harry, it will have to be her."
There was no explanation. The great black dog had leapt past Ron and scampered out of Gryffindor tower.
* * *
By the next morning, the rumors were circulating with full force. Dumbledore had ordered the teachers to keep silent until he made an announcement the next morning, but some information had still leaked. Crabbe and Goyle were, indeed, now deceased, and twenty-seven other students had spent the evening in the hospital wing, and not a single student was unaware of either detail by the time breakfast appeared on the tables. Everyone talked in low, eager whispers throughout the meal, and, by the time the plates had been cleared, there wasn't a single person that hadn't heard about the mysterious person that had tried to break into the Slytherin dungeon the night before, either.
However, not a single person had a clue about the visitor received in the Gryffindor common room the night before, and Hermione and Ron weren't about to talk. There was no talking about the incident on any level, for both Hermione and Ron were so sleep deprived that next morning that it was a struggle for them to not pass out into their toast and fried eggs.
Seeing his two sleepy friends, Harry couldn't help feel guilty. He still wasn't sure why they hadn't woken any of the other prefects for duty, and neither Hermione nor Ron seemed eager to tell. Both insisted that it hadn't been a big deal, but Harry still felt bad. He'd slept better than he had in a long time; Ron had just fallen face first into his jam-covered toast.
"Ron!" said Harry, shaking his friend's shoulder. Ron sat up with a start, cursing under his breath. Harry cringed when he noticed the glob of jam stuck in Ron's hair and passed him a napkin. "Are you okay?"
"Never been better," said Ron with false sincerity.
"I'm sorry-"
"No, don't be," insisted Ron quickly. "I didn't mean to be so snappy. I just want breakfast to be over so I can go back up to our room for some sleep."
Harry nodded, knowing Ron needed it. Just as Ron reached for a fresh piece of toast, Harry felt something lean heavily against his arm.
"I think she's out," observed Ron. Sure enough, Hermione had dozed off and was using Harry as a pillow; however, Harry made no move to push her away.
"Probably a good thing," said Harry. "What do you think Dumbledore's going to tell us?"
Ron shrugged. "I'm still not sure there's any explanation for what happened last night."
"I really am sorry I went right to sleep on you," said Harry for the fifth time that morning. "I don't know what hit me."
"Everyone else fell right asleep," said Ron, giving the most information about the night he had all morning. "It's not a big deal. Hermione and I will be just fine after we get some rest. Better that just two of us are a little out of it than all of us grumpy from lack of sleep."
He almost had a point. Harry sighed and finished his toast just as the morning mail came flying in by means of dozens of owls of various sizes and colors. Hedwig was still upstairs in the Owlery, as was Pig, but a brown owl almost as hyperactive as Ron's little pet had a delivery for Hermione. He flapped noisily around her sleeping head before Harry reached up and snatched her mail from it, shooing it away. Too late. The little owl had startled Hermione awake.
"What?" she muttered groggily. Her eyes flew open and she sat up. "Did I miss anything?"
Harry and Ron both shook their heads. "Your mail just got delivered," said Harry, passing the paper to her. "I think it's just your Daily Prophet subscription."
"Think they'll have anything about what happened here last night?" asked Hermione.
"Open it and find out!" demanded Ron. He had leaned over from his side of the table, looking at the paper upside down. As it turns out, there was a small mentioning of the incident at Hogwarts, but it certainly wasn't front-page news. That had been reserved for an article about another school-Durmstrang.
Seeing the name in the headline, Ron made a grab for the paper, but Hermione jerked it out of his grasp. "Just a second, Ron! I'm trying to read that, too!"
"Give it to me when you're done," said Ron. Harry, meanwhile, was looking over Hermione's shoulder, trying to read as fast as she was. Both of their faces must have gone pale the farther they read, for Ron said, "Is everything okay? You both look like you've just seen a ghost!"
Almost like a reminder to where they were, Nearly Headless Nick swooped over their heads. He didn't even stop to say hello; he was headed in the direction of the staff table. Meanwhile, Ron was about to go crazy from not knowing.
"Hurry up, will you?" he said. "What's going on?"
Hermione pulled away from the paper first, passing it to Harry so he could finish. She looked very nervous.
"Hermione!" Ron was whining now. "What's happened?"
"Durmstrang," whispered Hermione, her expression unreadable, "was also attacked last night."
"So we were attacked?" pressed Ron. "Was it the same smoke and message kind of thing?"
Hermione shook her head. She looked to Harry. "Nothing like that," said Harry carefully. "It-er, it seems to have met the same fate as Beauxbatons."
"What?" screeched Ron, grabbing the paper right out of Harry's hands, before he'd even had a chance to finish the article. Half the people in the Great Hall seemed to look towards them at the sound. Ron's face paled as he read the paper, just as Hermione and Harry's had.
"Durmstrang reduced to rumbled," whispered Ron, pushing the paper away, as if it were a vile substance. He looked sick. "What's to say we're not next?"
Hermione shushed Ron. "Don't talk so loudly!" she hissed. "You don't want everyone to panic. Did you both read the bit about Hogwarts at the end?"
Ron nodded, but Harry shook his head. "They mentioned Hogwarts at the end," explained Hermione quickly. "They said that there was an unfortunate event leaving two students dead, but that it is being regarded as more of a prank than a sign of the Dark Arts."
"A prank?" asked Harry. "Two students dead, and they're calling it a prank?"
"Maybe they've stopped counting Crabbe and Goyle's type as people," suggested Ron, and Hermione kicked him under the table.
"That's not nice, Ron," she said softly. "They might not have been the kindest of people, that didn't mean they deserved to die."
Ron blushed, looking away. Harry didn't blame his friend for his words, but he had a tendency to agree with Hermione. Then, he remembered his decision to let Peter Pettigrew live after admitting his role in the deaths of his parents, and Harry couldn't help but shudder. Maybe he didn't have a real opinion of the matter.
"May I have your attention, please?" Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned in the direction of the staff table, where Dumbledore was standing. He looked as if he had aged, and his expression was unusually dour "Thank you. As you all know, Hogwarts played host to some very peculiar, very unfortunate events last night. However, what happened at our school yesterday evening pales in comparison to other events last night.
"I regret to inform you that the wizarding school of Durmstrang was taken under siege last night and destroyed," said Dumbledore. "This is most certainly the result of some very dark, very evil magic. Only one person is behind this, and I feel that you are all well aware of whom that is. There is no denying the strength being gained by Lord Voldemort."
The Great Hall filled with flinches and gasps, but Harry immediately noticed that Ron and Hermione had not recoiled as they usually did when they heard the name. Dumbledore looked around disapprovingly, but continued.
"We might not teach mathematics here at Hogwarts, but I feel you are all smart enough to add the casualties of recent attacks. With Beauxbatons and Durmstrang destroyed, Hogwarts is the last major school of magic remaining. Nevertheless, we will carry on as we always do. There is no use fearing the unknown while it remains unknown. As for last night's events-" Dumbledore paused and cleared his throat. "As for last night's unfortunate events, it has been confirmed as a very serious prank. Those responsible have already paid dearly, and you may rest assured there is not a more serious punishment."
The Great Hall was silent, and everyone seemed to be having trouble believing that last night had simply been a prank. Dumbledore started to walk back to his seat, but a small voice from the Gryffindor table stopped him.
"Professor Dumbledore?" said Ginny Weasley. "Did anyone at Durmstrang survive the attack?"
Dumbledore faced the four house tables once more, taking off his glasses. "No, Miss Weasley," he said sadly. "There weren't any survivors."
You would have had to have been blind to miss the stricken look that immediately appeared on Ginny's face.
* * *
Ginny had been keeping her secret from the very beginning, long before school even started for the term. In fact, the origins of her secret stretched back to the school year before. Considering what the secret was, it was surprising that the first person she came clean to was none other than Hermione Granger.
"Ginny?" called Hermione gently. She knocked again on the door to the dorm room she shared with Ginny and three other girls. She tried the doorknob again, but, of course, it was still looked. She sighed in frustration. "Come on, Ginny. Please open the door and let me in. If you don't, I'm going to let myself in."
"Just go away!" exclaimed Ginny. Hermione stopped tugging on the doorknob, pressing her ear up to the door. She could tell that Ginny was crying, and she just didn't have the heart to force the door open with magic. "I just want to be alone!"
"Ginny," pleaded Hermione. She took a step back from the door. As soon as Dumbledore has finished his announcement, she'd ran out of the Great Hall, looking close to tears. Ron had begged her to follow his little sister and figure out what was wrong. He had been genuinely concerned, and so had Harry. Hermione was worried, too, even though this was just one thing on the list of odd things Ginny had done this year. "Please let me in? I didn't get a chance to sleep last night, and I just want to rest. I promise I won't bother you."
The door opened, and Ginny stood there, tears still running down her cheeks. "Can't you go somewhere else?" she sniffled sullenly, blocking Hermione from entering the room. "Go to one of the prefect rooms or something. Ron and Harry have their own room; go bother them!"
Noticing how darkly Ginny had spat out her brother and Harry's names, Hermione decided to take a shot at what was getting to her. "Are you mad or jealous of Ron about something, Ginny?"
"No!" Ginny looked angry now. "I don't care about Ron or what he does, and the only person I'm mad at right now is you!"
"Me?" Hermione was dumfounded. "Why are you mad at me?"
"Don't act so shocked!" screamed Ginny. The rest of the Gryffindors had returned for breakfast, and the two girls got several curious glances as the other girls headed back to their rooms. Ginny took no notice. "Not everyone likes you, Hermione Granger, or did you forget that? Just because you had Viktor wrapped around your finger, and now Harry, doesn't mean you're better than everyone else!"
Now the rest of the Gryffindor girls weren't even making an attempt to cover their interest. They came to the door of their dorm rooms, staring at Ginny and Hermione.
"Ginny," said Hermione, trying to keep calm. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Ginny wasn't listening. She had wandered back to her bed and thrown herself on it, in tears again. Hermione gave a spiteful look to all the gaping girls in the hallway and slammed the door shut. She walked over to Ginny's bed and pulled the hanging's back. She tried again.
"I really don't know what you're talking about," said Hermione, trying again.
Ginny sat up, clutching her pillow, still crying. "I'm sorry, Hermione," she sobbed. "I didn't mean to yell at you. I-I-I-"
"What's happened, Ginny?" Hermione said. She wasn't sure what to do for the sobbing girl.
Ginny wiped her tears away with closed fits. She looked up at Hermione with wide eyes. "Do you promise not to get mad at me?" she whispered.
"I promise," said Hermione, still baffled by what could possibly be upsetting the girl.
"And do you promise you won't tell Ron?" she asked, still sniffling.
"I won't tell your brother anything you don't want me too."
Ginny smiled at her gratefully. "I've-I'd been seeing Viktor Krum."
Hermione scooted away from Ginny, looking surprised. She hadn't even been aware that Ginny knew Viktor. She was about to ask Ginny when that had come about, but Ginny cut her off.
"I was so in awe of him last year," explained Ginny. "When you grow up with six brothers, you're familiar with almost every famous Quidditch player. He saw you in the library last year and wanted to get to know you better," she said miserably, "and he'd seen me talking with you before. He started talking to me because he wanted to know more about you, but then he stopped asking about you and started asking about me. He told me how pretty he thought I was, and how smart and nice."
Hermione was truly dumbfounded. She'd had no idea that Krum had even talked to Ginny before. Now, it seemed that they'd know each other quite well. "I didn't know," she said numbly.
Ginny nodded, and she suddenly tossed the pillow she was clutching as hard as she could against the wall. "Then he asked you to the Yule Ball! I went with Neville just because I wanted to see if Krum really liked you." The younger girl closed her eyes as if she was remembering the events of the year before. "It was so hard to act like I didn't care! No one was supposed to know I liked Viktor! Oh, I'm so sorry, Hermione!" She was wailing again.
"Shh, it's okay," said Hermione comfortingly. Ginny had buried her face in her hands, and Hermione patted her back gently. "It's okay, Ginny. A lot of girls liked Viktor last year."
Ginny looked up, her cheeks stained with tears. "You don't understand," she said miserably. "I-er-well-Viktor would always spend time with me after he spent time with you. On the very last day of school, right before we went to get on the Hogwarts Express, he caught up with me and promised to write me all summer and suggested that I come and visit him. I had no idea he'd done told you the same thing, Hermione!"
Hermione's head was spinning. He had told her the same thing, and Ginny obviously knew that now. She still couldn't Viktor had something going with Ginny the last year. Her mind was racing. Ginny didn't know what had happened between them that summer, did she?
"Ginny," said Hermione cautiously, careful of where she tread. "You said that you had been seeing Viktor? Was that-recently, too?"
Ginny nodded furiously. She seemed unable to form words for a moment. "Oh, Hermione. I felt so bad about it because of you! He's been with me alone since the two of you had your falling out! I thought-I thought he told you about me."
"Oh, he did," said Hermione darkly. Everything was starting to fall into place. She remembered Krum screaming that he had another girl he liked much better than her. She didn't tell Ginny that, though.
"I wanted to go see him," said Ginny. "He sent me letters every single day during the second half of the summer. I tried to tell Ron about it, and he laughed at me! He just shook his head and said, `Ginny, you're being delusional! I know Krum's a fantastic Quidditch player, but he's all Hermione's!' I was so upset! Now, he's gone, and I'll never get to see him again!"
Hermione could only think that was probably for the best, but she chose not to say that, either. Ginny obviously had no idea what had happened this summer, and she wasn't about to fill her in. Ginny was obviously enamored with Krum, and Hermione had a feeling she'd get things thrown at her if she tried to convince her otherwise. "It's going to be okay, Ginny," she said soothingly.
"That's easy for you to say!" said Ginny. The tears had begun again. "You never cared about him like I do!"
She had cared about him, probably just as much as Ginny. Hermione shook her head. It was probably best Ginny had never found out about Krum what she had. "I did too," she said carefully, and quickly added, "but of course, that was over a long time ago."
"It's not fair," sniffled Ginny. "You had Viktor, and now you have Harry. You're so lucky, Hermione. They're the only two guys I've ever liked."
"Harry?" asked Hermione, perplexed. "What are you talking about, Ginny? Harry's my friend, just like Ron's my friend."
"That's not true," Ginny scoffed. "Have you ever noticed how he looks at you?"
"Ginny!" exclaimed Hermione. "Harry is my friend!"
"That you're in love with!" added Ginny angrily. Suddenly, her tone softened. "Oh, Hermione, I didn't mean to yell at you again. I'm just so upset about Viktor! I can't believe he's gone!"
Hermione chose to ignore her wails. She doubted Ginny even understood love; it seemed that what she had with Viktor was just a one-sided adoration. Hermione had seen a side of him that most people didn't get to, and it wasn't his charming wizard act. She'd seen his sinister side, and she had her own dark tale about it. In all actuality, she was still mad at herself for being sucked in.
"Is that why you've acted so strangely lately?" Hermione wanted to know. "This summer-you were in a foul mood with your brothers, and you always sneak around school."
Ginny nodded, miserably. "I send him letters all the time," she said. "I didn't want anyone to know because I was afraid they'd tell you or Harry or Ron or Fred or George or someone like that. So I sneak out every night to the Owlery."
Now, it all really mad sense. Hermione patted Ginny's back gently once more. "Are you going to be okay?"
"I might," said Ginny, a bit dramatically. "I would like to be left alone for awhile, though-do you mind?"
Hermione shook her head. "I'll go up to the prefect common room and get my rest," she lied, having no intention of doing so. She might have promised not to tell Ron, but she needed to talk to Harry. Slipping quietly out the door, she noticed that a lot of the girls were still listening from the doorframe of their own rooms.
"Hermione!" called a short second year with long blonde hair. Hermione remembered her as being quite a little gossip. "What's going on with Ginny?"
"It's none of your business," snapped Hermione, making her way to the stairwell. Several older girls looked at her anxiously, as if they expected her to tell them.
"Oh, get a life!" Hermione chided, her conversation with Ginny having given her a second energy. She'd been dead exhausted before talking with Ron's little sister, but now the only thing she could think about was finding Harry. She'd put off telling him for a long time-too long, she realized. She only hoped that he remembered their conversation back at the Weasleys' all those weeks before.
When she got down to the common room, a quick glance around told her that Harry wasn't there. Hermione let out a sigh of frustration. There weren't any boys hanging around there, either, so she couldn't very well send someone into the boys' dormitory to find him for her. She was about to give up when she remembered that Ron had been up with her the night before. Ron had said at breakfast that he wanted to sleep, and she figured Harry wouldn't hang around for that. Hermione headed up in the direction of the prefect common room.
"Dally shanks," said Hermione when she reached the discreet portrait of Godric Gryffindor's daughter at a young age. The girl in the portrait smiled at her as moved out of the way.
Sure enough, Harry was sprawled out on the couch with his large History of Magic textbook. He might look relaxed enough, but Hermione could tell by the expression on his face that he was still bothered by what had happened.
"We need to talk," said Hermione as she burst into the room, slightly out of breath, and so suddenly that Harry jumped and dropped his book.
"Hermione!" he exclaimed, sitting up on the couch and making room for her next to him. "What's wrong? You look-frightened?"
"You could call it that," quipped Hermione. She had caught her breath and sat down next to him. "I just got done talking to Ginny."
"That bad?"
Hermione scrunched up her nose. "I'm not sure what you'd call it," she said finally. "It was pretty surprising. I wasn't expecting it, that's for sure."
"Can you tell me about it, or has she sworn you to secrecy?" Harry wanted to know.
"Well," said Hermione. Ginny had specifically asked her not to tell Ron, but she hadn't said anything about Harry. Hermione decided she'd just have to take that risk. "She told me not to tell Ron."
"But nothing about me?" Harry seemed to be on to her train of thought. "I don't like keeping things from him, but I won't tell Ron."
Hermione smiled gratefully, but she couldn't help but think of what she and Ron were hiding from Harry. There was no time to worry about that, however, and she quickly relayed to him everything Ginny had shared with her. By the time she reached the end of the story, Harry was looking every bit as surprised as she had felt.
"Wow," he murmured as she finished. "I can't believe that's been going on this whole time! How could we have not noticed something was wrong?"
"We did notice something was different," reminded Hermione. "Ron and his brothers noticed how strangely she was acting this summer, and we saw that with our own eyes, even."
"You said it was just her growing up," said Harry.
"I thought it was," said Hermione grimly. "I-well, Viktor told me he had another girl, but I never imagined it was Ginny Weasley!"
"It just sounds absurd," agreed Harry, saying exactly what Hermione was thinking. He looked astonished, but he suddenly blinked a few times. Hermione realized he was looking at her intently.
"Why," he said quietly, and he took her hands in his for a second. He looked up and met her gaze. "Why do I have a feeling that this ties right in with what you wouldn't tell me this summer?"
So he hadn't forgotten. Judging by the look on his face, he might have given what Hermione hadn't told him more thought than what she had. She had known when she rushed up here that she wouldn't be able to communicate what Ginny had shared with her without explaining what had happened between her and Viktor. Hermione took a deep breath.
"Because it does," said Hermione. She locked her eyes with his.
"I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable or put you on the spot," said Harry quietly, "but I'm here to listen if you want to tell me about it."
"After I spent a solid week begging my parents for permission, they finally agreed to let me visit Viktor. It was just the third week of summer, and I planned to stay there for three more," whispered Hermione. She hadn't told anyone the story before, and she wasn't even sure where to begin. Harry seemed to sense this, and he grabbed her hand and offered her a reassuring smile. "It didn't exactly work out that way.
"Viktor was different than he was at school. He didn't `waste time' with being sweet or romantic. When he took me to meet his friends, I felt like I was some kind of trophy he had won. I thought I had done something wrong to make him act that way," said Hermione miserably. "He started to want more of me, but I wasn't willing to give him that. I just wasn't ready. I tried to explain that to him, and he got so angry with me! He started throwing things around and yelling at me. He eventually calmed down, but he then he tried to talk me into it. When I refused for a second time and then a third, he wouldn't accept it. He pinned me down and wouldn't let me up. Oh Harry, I was so scared he was going to-to-that he was going to-"
Harry had her in his arms immediately. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, a few tears making their way down her face. She felt safe with Harry; he always had a way of making her feel better.
"You don't have to say it," he said reassuringly. Suddenly, he pulled back, a look of fear on his face. "Wait, you said tried to. Merlin, Hermione, he didn't, did he?"
"No," said Hermione. "I had my wand with me. I know I shouldn't have done it, but I had to. Jelly-Legs was enough to get him off of me. He started screaming about how I was just a worthless Mudblood and how he had another girl that was `much more willing.' Then it seemed to dawn on him that there is no restriction on using magic during the summer at Durmstrang."
"It doesn't apply to them?" Harry cut in.
"No, it doesn't. I never understood why until that evening," said Hermione lightly. Her throat suddenly felt dry, and she wished desperately for a glass of water. "Harry, Viktor was being trained as a Death Eater."
"Krum was what?" spat Harry. "Hermione, that's impossible!"
Hermione shook her head grimly. "I scarcely believed it myself. He went off about Lord Voldemort's return to power. He said that he only wanted me to get closer to you, and since that hadn't worked, he had no use for me anymore. He pointed his wand at me and told me to prepare to die-"
Suddenly, Hermione realized just how absurd what she was saying sounded, and Harry was looking at her with disbelieve. She quickly slipped off her Hogwarts robe and began fumbling with the buttons on her shirt.
"Do you remember what Professor Lupin taught us the very first week about the Death Eaters?" asked Hermione. She would have to show him before she lost her nerve. Harry nodded, but he was looking at her like she was crazier than ever. "Do you remember what the Dark Scar is?"
"Of course I do," said Harry. "It's sort of like the Dark Mark. The Death Eaters have their own spells for their misdoings, and anyone that gets caught in the middle of one ends up with the Dark Scar, whether they live or die. Hermione, why are you getting-"
There. Hermione could feel her cheeks burning bright red, but she had to show it to him. Harry had stopped in mid sentence. He looked up at her in utter disbelief, but his cheeks too went scarlet. Hermione was already buttoning the top of her blouse back up, silently wishing the mark was somewhere other than right above her chest. That had to have been the most embarrassing situation she'd ever been in.
"No wonder you looked so uncomfortable that day in class," said Harry finally.
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