As a thousand questions dashed through Harry's head, he watched Ron rise, as though in a dream. His friend crossed the sitting room to Ginny.

"What d'you mean she's back?"

Ginny said nothing, merely stared at Ron. Ron grabbed her by the shoulders.

"I SAID WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" He shook her. Harry leapt at Ron, blind with rage and fear.

"GET YOUR EFFING HANDS OFF MY WIFE." He barely felt his fist connect with Ron's cheek; his wand was forgotten in his back pocket; nothing existed except terror and fury.

And then they went down in a tangle of limbs, an absurd parody of Ron's earlier tussle with Flossie. Indeed, the dog was there, sniffing, whining, and Hermione's and Ginny's scream intermingled into a shrill whistle in Harry's ears, and he and Ron lay on the ground, panting and still. It was as though some understanding passed between them. They simply lay, winded by their own panic.

Suddenly Harry realized that a third body had hit the floor, and became aware of Ginny's voice, cajoling, gasping. He rose, but it was not Ginny on the floor, but Hermione, curled into a ball and gasping, crying as though her heart would burst, shaking all over. The sound seemed to turn off in Harry's ears for a moment, as he watched her, horror coursing through him. Ron leapt away, his mouth working. He was obviously saying something, but Harry couldn't hear it. Then Ron hit the floor next to Hermione and took her in his arms, and the sound seemed to come back on again.

"She- she can't- Ron, she'll hurt me!" Hermione's white face was a mess of tears. Harry noticed for the first time that he had knocked his teacup of the side table, where it had fallen and broken. The shards lay in a puddle of tea. He stared at them dully, Hermione's and Ron's voices piercing him like knives.

"Hermione, what is it? What's wrong?" Ginny had moved in on Hermione now.

"SHE TORTURED ME!" Hermione screamed it; she sounded mad, and more afraid than Harry had ever heard her before. "She'll come back, and she'll do it again, and oh Ron..." Hermione was shaking so much that she was bumping Flossie intermittently with her quivering leg.

"She can't be back." said Harry in a low voice, drawing near Ginny. "If she's back, then... could he be back too?" Ginny stared up at him.

"Maybe."

His insides contracted, and he felt as though he would be sick. He wanted to join Hermione there on the floor.

Could Voldemort possibly come back?