A/N: One of the interesting things about this story is the fact that it uses flashbacks and multiple points of view. If you get confused (which you shouldn't, unless you're about eight, in which case you shouldn't be reading this anyway) just reread the part that confused you; you'll get it. Three asterisks separate each point of view (***). Enjoy!

CHAPTER 01

Harry's eyes sprang open as he awoke from a dream. It was an odd dream; he'd been flying on his Firebolt through a forest when his broomstick began to buck and thrash around. He'd been thrown off of it, and fell to the ground with a sickening 'thump'.

Then he woke up. Harry pressed his fingers to his scar, but it wasn't burning. "Good," Harry thought to himself, "At least Voldemort wasn't involved." Harry's eyes were burning, however.

In fact, Harry's head was pounding. And he felt somewhat nauseous… Harry began to think he might have the flu. He groaned as he looked at his calendar. It was his fifteenth birthday. He looked over to the electronic clock on his desk; it was 9:00 A.M.

Just then, there was a tapping on his window. Harry glanced up to see a tawny owl hovering outside on the other side of the glass. Harry stood up too quickly; he felt dizzy and had to lean onto his bed frame. He took a deep breath and opened his window to admit the owl. Hedwig, Harry's snowy owl, let out a hoot of contempt at the intruder.

The tawny owl ignored Hedwig and landed on Harry's desk. Harry knew immediately where the letter came from. The green ink on the parchment envelope was unmistakable. It was a Hogwarts letter.

Mr. H. Potter

Still the Smallest Bedroom

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

Hogwarts letters were always either very good news… or very, very bad news. Harry opened up the letter apprehensively.

Dear Mr. Potter:

We are pleased to inform you ("Well… that's a good start," thought Harry,) that you have been appointed a fifth-year prefect of Gryffindor House. In addition, we are also very happy to tell you that Madam Hooch has recommended that you receive the position of Quidditch Captain for the Gryffindor House team.

Your silver prefect badge is enclosed. Please respond with an owl with your response as to whether or not you will be accepting these prestigious positions. Should you choose not to accept the position of prefect, please re-enclose the badge and send it back. Should you choose to accept the position, please wear your badge on 01 September to King's Cross Station. Thank you, and we look forward to hearing from you soon and seeing you on 01 September for the start of term.

Professor Minerva McGonagall

Harry stared at the parchment in awe. Quidditch captain?! Prefect?! Harry couldn't believe it…

Without thinking about the possible consequences, Harry ran down the stairs and into the kitchen. Uncle Vernon was sitting at the kitchen table, eating eggs and bacon. Dudley sat at the table as well, munching on buttered toast. Dudley, who was still on a diet, had in all actuality, lost a very considerable amount of weight over the previous school year. He'd been on a very strict dietary regimen at his school, Smeltings. He was certainly not thin, like Harry, but not the size of a whale, as he'd been before. He, too, was fifteen.

Aunt Petunia stood at the counter, flipping pancakes. Harry didn't notice that yet another person sat at the kitchen table…

"Uncle Vernon! Uncle Vernon!" Harry came bounding towards the table. "I've just received an owl, and I've been made prefect AND Quidditch captain! Dudley! Can you believe it?"

Uncle Vernon's face turned a deep red and his nostrils flared with anger. Dudley's face assumed a look of horror. A newspaper on the opposite side of the table was lowered and a curious, shocked look was revealed upon the face of a girl who looked to be fourteen. Harry had the odd feeling he'd seen the girl before.

"Er…" Harry stammered, "Er- I…" He felt his cheeks flush and cleared his throat nervously.

"Now I've really blown it," thought Harry.

The girl raised a thin eyebrow.

"What are you talking about?" Uncle Vernon snapped, giving Harry a very conspicuous look in which his eyes and chin jerked toward the girl at the table. "Stop this nonsense. We have a guest," he snarled viciously.

"Erm… I was j-just t-talking about something… somewhat unique to Hog- to my school!…" He looked and the girl, who had narrowed her large eyes. Harry decided to change the subject. "Who's this?"

"This is my niece and Dudley's cousin, Nora." Uncle Vernon gestured toward the girl. Aunt Petunia had stopped flipping pancakes and was staring at Harry with hateful eyes.

"Hello," Nora said with a small smile, turning to Uncle Vernon, "Uncle Vernon," she lowered her voice, and Harry pretended not to be able to hear. "Who is this?" Harry once again had an odd feeling that Nora really didn't need to find out who Harry was. Harry searched his mind for a name, a face, anything about this girl… but she had a Scottish accent, she couldn't have been from around here at any point. Family reunion? No… Harry had been shut up in rooms or cupboards far from the sight of the "Normal" Dursleys… Christmas, perhaps? No… Christmas was nothing more to Harry these past four years than a time to receive a paper clip or maybe some vile socks via post from the Dursleys, and to celebrate the fact that he wasn't with them, as he never received gifts anyway, let alone the mountain of presents he remembered had always been under the tree, each one marked, "For Dudley-kins from Mummy and Daddy" or even (though Harry knew Dudley only *pretended* to believe in Santa Claus to obtain more gifts) "To The #1 Name on the Good Boy List, Dudley Dursley… From Santa Claus." Harry had always chuckled at that. The least Santa could do is give me coal, Harry thought, to let me know I was on *some* list, be it the bad boy list…

"Nora," Uncle Vernon sighed, "This is Dudley's cousin Harry. Harry Potter. His mother was Petunia's sister."

"Oh!" A look of pity crossed Nora's face. "You're the poor little boy who had to go to St. Brutus' Center for Incurably Criminal Boys…"

"What?" Harry raised his eyebrows.

Uncle Vernon shot Harry a death look.

"Oh yeah… that's me. Incurably criminal."

There was an awkward pause. No one wanted to seem to delve deeper into the subject. Harry continued mumbling,

"Fires and… stealing and… stuff. Yeah. Well… I'll just… go…" Harry turned and left for lack of anything else to say and a true desire not to discuss WHY he was supposedly 'incurably criminal' any more. He went upstairs and pulled out a parchment. He wrote a letter back to the Hogwarts administration telling them he'd be accepting the positions of prefect and Quidditch captain. He'd just sent the school owl back when he noticed something at his door. The door was open just a tiny bit, and a pair of large eyes was peeking through the crack.

"Nora!" Harry rushed over to the door and opened it.

"I-I-I'm sorry!" Nora sounded frightened. "I saw your owl before and I…"

"You were wondering what I was doing with an owl," Harry finished. "They're not normal pets, are they?"

"Well… no. May I come in?" Nora asked timidly.

Harry opened the door a bit and said, "Don't touch anything." Then, without thinking, Harry did possibly the most stupid thing he could have ever done. "I'll be right back." He went downstairs to talk to Uncle Vernon… and left Nora in his room. Alone.

"Uncle Vernon, I'm sorry about what I said. I didn't mean to embarrass you in front of Nora," Harry ventured.

Uncle Vernon grunted.

"Aunt Petunia?" Harry turned to his aunt.

"Go upstairs, Harry. Don't leave her there by herself. We saw her go in, you know. We're not stupid."

Harry doubted this, but since Aunt Petunia sounded angry, Harry turned and went upstairs.

When Harry returned to his room, he gasped. Nora stood at his desk, examining his textbooks from his fourth year..

"Are these next year's books, then? Well, I'm taking Arithmancy, not Divination, but…"

Harry nearly fell over. "Nora! How… You… you're a witch!"

Nora turned around and gave Harry a small, innocent smile. "And you're a wizard."

Harry tried to process the fact that yet another relative of the Dursleys could possibly be magical. He grinned. "You go to Hogwarts?"

"Aye. I'm a fourth-year Ravenclaw." Nora smiled again. "You're a fifth-year Gryffindor."

"Yes. Yes I am. You know of me?"

"Who doesn't?" Nora laughed. "You're Harry Potter!" She grinned at him with admiration.

Harry gave a modest look and waved away Nora's flattering gaze. "St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys…" he mumbled with a crooked grin, then he chortled.

"Not nearly as bad as the one me parents made up," Nora set down Harry's Potions book. "They said I'd been sent to the Franciscan Sisters Convent in Majorca. My parents just wanted an excuse to travel to Majorca on holiday; they say they're visiting me. All the while I have to pretend I want to be a nun!"

Harry laughed.

"I don't even believe that Nun rubbish anymore," Nora continued. Then, remembering it was not customary for witches and wizards to discuss religion, she changed the subject. "You know, when you mentioned Quidditch, that's why I looked up. I knew it was a wizard, of course. And when I saw yer face I nearly gasped and burst out, ''Harry Potter!', but Uncle Vernon mustn't know I'm a witch. You know how all the Dursleys are." She groaned with a small smile. "You've met Aunt Marge, I s'pose…?"

Harry sighed. "Yes, I've met Aunt Marge," he mumbled, "Crazy old bat. Hates me, she does. Every time she comes over she makes sure they're punishing me enough at St. Brutus'. Doesn't hesitate to make her dog chase me up a tree or hit me, either way."

"She nearly found me out last summer. Had to throw my cauldron into my closet to cover for myself. She came into the room without knocking, and I was doing homework, Snape's, you know. It was an unfinished potion, so of course it burned a hole in my carpeting I couldn't fix, not on vacation, since we're not allowed to. Those are the times I wish my parents weren't Muggles. Aunt Marge never mentioned it again. But she noticed the smell. I was adding asphodel to cream of Bubotubor pus and powdered beetles."

"Ewww…" Harry wrinkled his nose. "Mixed with powdered beetles, that stuff smells terrible."

"But does Snape care?"

"No."

Nora's grin faded. "I only brought my wand and my cat, Poseidon. I named him that because he's odd; he likes water." Nora sighed. "I don't know how I'm going to finish Snape and McGonagall's homework; I'm going back home on the thirty-first of August, Uncle Vernon's driving me back, says he's got to go to London anyway."

Harry thought for a moment. "You know, we could tell them."

"Tell who? Tell them what?"

"Tell Uncle Vernon you're a witch. You see, they've got to take me to London on the twenty-ninth. I'm going to Diagon Alley to get new robes, then I'm going to King's Cross on the first of September. Why don't you, when we bring you back home, grab your things and come back to London with us. I've got two rooms in the inn at Diagon Alley; one for me and one for my best friend Ron. Ron and I could share a room and you could take the other."

"Oh, Harry, really?" Nora was aghast.

"Yes, and meanwhile, I'll help you with your homework, I've got my fourth-year books here somewhere."

"Oh… Harry! That's so gen'rous of you!"

"Let's go, then."

The two of them headed downstairs and into the kitchen. Aunt Petunia was now hovering over Dudley, pressing him about some girl named Yvette who'd apparently been calling on the telephone quite often.

"Uncle Vernon…?" Nora ventured sheepishly.

"Yes, Nora?"

"I've got some… erm… shocking news for you…"

Uncle Vernon looked up. He looked from Harry to Nora and back again. Aunt Petunia looked at Nora as well, and Dudley stared curiously. Uncle Vernon returned his eyes to the paper, though Harry knew he wasn't really reading; his eyes weren't moving. He grunted to let Nora know to continue.

Nora sighed nervously. She held her chin up and said confidently, "I'm a witch."

There was a dead silence. Then Uncle Vernon burst out laughing, an evil laugh. The suddenness of the outburst made Harry jump.

"I don't know what nonsense Harry's been feeding you, Nora, but there are no such things as witches. That's nonsense."

"No such things as witches?!" Harry yelled, "My mum was a witch, you can't deny it!"

"DO NOT SPEAK ANY MORE OF YOUR… YOUR ABNORMALITY!" Uncle Vernon bellowed. "NOT IN MY HOUSE!" Then, seeing he seemed to be losing this battle, Uncle Vernon barked, "THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS MAGIC!"

Nora put her hands on her hips. "Now, really, Uncle Vernon. Be reasonable. Please. I'm a witch. I can do potions and transfiguration and charms and hexes and everything."

"And we can fly," Harry piped up. He always loved throwing in extra things for good measure, or extra Dudley-Scare as case may be.

Uncle Vernon stopped laughing. "Petunia," he mumbled, looking to his wife, who stood frozen at the stove, the grilled cheese she was making Dudley burning.

"Muuuum!" Dudley wailed as he saw the burning sandwiches.

"Uncle Vernon. I attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…"

Uncle Vernon twisted his face and his eye twitched in horror…

"Same school as Harry. I need to leave off of platform 9¾ at King's Cross to get there, and when I do, I'm a Ravenclaw."

"A what?"

"A Ravenclaw. Harry's a Gryffindor."

"What the devil is a Racingclaw or a Gryffoodoor? Dare I ask?"

"Ravenclaw, Uncle Vernon, and Gryffindor are houses. At Hogwarts-"

Uncle Vernon had heard enough. "All right! All right!" His face turned the colour of spoiled milk.

He cleared his throat. Aunt Petunia was staring at both of the children with a look of pure contempt and disgust, as if they were a filthy bit of rubbish, like a rotten banana peel in the middle of her perfectly cleaned and vacuumed living room.

"What the Hell…?" Dudley whispered, narrowing his piggy eyes at the two other children.

There was another silence. Harry explained their plan to Uncle Vernon, who reluctantly agreed.

Dudley sneered, "Am I the only sane cousin here?"

"We're not insane," Harry said calmly. "We're… erm… different, I suppose. You might say gifted-"

"Gifted! Pshaw!" Aunt Petunia curled her top lip. Harry was strongly reminded of Snape. "Being some sort of… pagan-"

"We're not pagans!"

"Well you're certainly not good practicing Christians!" Aunt Petunia's nostrils flared.

Harry shrugged calmly, knowing it was no use. "I don't think that should matter. We're going upstairs to do our homework."

From an objective opinion, Nora was very pretty. She was small for a fourteen-year-old, thin and short. She had smooth golden-blonde hair that reached the middle of her back and cascaded over her shoulders. Her wide turquoise eyes and long mascara'd lashes looked curious and interested. She had a long slim nose and a little grin in which one corner of her mouth rose higher than the other. She spoke with a graceful Scottish accent; she was from Glasgow. Nora Cardeen wore a V-Neck gray shirt and jeans.

Harry'd grown much more attractive over the summer, too. His once-ragged brown hair was still messy and shaggy, but in a stylish way. It suited his personality. His green eyes shown bright under his round glasses. He was thin but muscular and had grown taller. He had a smile that could weaken knees.

"So you're a prefect, Harry?" Nora asked politely after Harry had helped her complete her homework assignment.

"Apparently. Sent my owl back just today telling them I'd accept."

"And Quidditch Captain! Well, I've no surprise about that. You've got a big future in Quidditch, Harry."

Harry grinned modestly again. "I certainly hope so."

Just then, another owl swooped through Harry's window, carrying a letter. Another floated in close behind it, with a package in its talons.

"Well, Harry, I'll let you open your post… fans, no doubt. Just kidding! I've got to go to lunch with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Marge. She's in town, you know." Nora waved goodbye to Harry, but first glanced at his calendar. Today was circled and 'Happy Birthday Harry' was written on the block of the date. "Happy birthday, Harry." Nora raised her eyebrows and smiled.

Harry grinned, thanked Nora, and waved goodbye.

He opened the first owl's gift, a large envelope. Inside were two letters. The first, he recognized, was in Ron's writing.

Dear Harry,

Happy birthday! Lucky me, I was already fifteen J . Hermione's here, (spending more time with Ginny than me, of course…) would you like to come towards the end of summer?

I've got something very, very important to tell you… you'll be delighted, I'm sure.

By the way, Hermione would like to come with us to stay the last night in Diagon Alley; we'll have to share a room.

Write back soon with your response as to if you can come or not. If you can come, we'll come and get you by Floo powder. (You may want to make sure the fireplace is clear this time J )

Happy birthday, again. Congratulations on making prefect and Quidditch captain! (It was in the Daily Prophet; All of them were listed.) You deserve it. J

Ron

The second letter was from Hermione.

Dear Harry,

A very happy birthday to you. I hope it's been pleasant. I do hope you can join us at the Burrow, it's ever such a good time, as you well know.

I heard you got prefect… I did as well. I'm just so pleased. Ron's a bit peeved, of course, but keeps insisting he doesn't want the position because of Percy, you know. Oh well… perhaps he'll get Head Boy 7th year, eh?

I'm very happy for you about getting Quidditch captain as well. That's excellent! You sure you can juggle all of that, though? I believe you are fully capable. Just mind you keep your grades up. Did you finish your homework, Harry? *Get it done!* I know you haven't finished it, I know you too well for that. I finished the History of Magic essay for Professor Binns, but It's only two feet longer than what he asked for… the Snape homework, of course, requires an ingredient that I didn't have any left of, so I had to go all the way to Diagon Alley to get some more and… and I'm babbling about school work again, aren't I? ("Yes, Hermione, you are…" Harry thought with a small smile)

The Weasley twins, needless to say, are a bit peeved that they're seventh years and neither one is captain, but they both are happy it's you instead of Angelina or Katie (The chauvinists, they just want a boy as captain) and so they're happy for you and know you deserve it.

I'll hopefully see you at the burrow and I will see you in Diagon Alley for sure.

Until then,

Hermione

P.S. Your gift from Ron and me is with the second owl. I hope you'll like it, and I think you'll find it useful for practicing… have I said too much?

Harry opened the parcel the second owl had brought. It was a box filled with the four Quidditch balls (One Red leather Quaffle, two stone brown Bludgers, and the tiny Golden Snitch), strapped into the case for safety, and brand-new and shining. Not a single dent or scratch on a one of them, Harry thought. The school sets were all so beat up, the Bludgers didn't even fly where the beaters hit them anymore, and the Quaffle didn't float like it was supposed to; it fell too fast. Luckily for Harry, the Golden Snitch was fine. Though, he hadn't played Quidditch at Hogwarts for over a year…

It was a glorious birthday. Harry had a present from Hagrid as well -- homemade rock cakes.

"Well," Harry thought, "It's the thought that counts."

He sent a reply back to Ron, telling him to come by Floo powder. After corresponding with him for a few days they'd established a plan. The new plan was that Nora, who was leery about staying at the Weasleys' when she knew only Ginny (and wasn't really friends with Ginny as they were in different houses), would be taken to London by Uncle Vernon on the thirty-first. She'd buy whatever she needed to and meet Ron and Hermione and the inn. She'd stay in a room with Hermione, and Ron and Harry would share a room. The next morning, Ginny and the twins and Mrs. Weasley would meet them at King's Cross and they'd head off to school. But before all of this, Harry would be going to the Burrow in four days.

Ron seemed very interested in Nora. He said he knew of her, but had never really met her.

Harry also found out Ron's big news, and he WAS delighted.

Hermione had a crush on Harry.

***

"Ron, how could you tell him?!"

"Hermione, I'm sorry…" Ron struggled to stifle his laughter.

Hermione sniffled stiffly. "Mm hmm," she said primly. "And I'm sure you thought about how it would make me feel, as long as you got to see Harry's reaction. Ron, we're all three of us best friends! But can't I tell you anything without having to worry you'll go and blab on me?"

"No." Ron chuckled, but seeing the look of horror on Hermione's face, he sobered up. "Look, Hermione, I'm really, really sorry. Truly."

Hermione scrunched up her face and rubbed her eyes as if she had a very bad headache, and at the same time was trying to decide whether to let Ron live or die.

"All right…" Hermione began, (Ron mouthed the word, "Yes!" to himself…) "I forgive you."

"Oh, thank you, Hermione!" Ron ran up to Hermione and was about to give her a bear hug when Ginny opened the door and came in.

"Ginny, didn't I tell you not to come in unless you've first knocked?"

Ginny whistled at the sight of Ron about to pick Hermione up playfully. "I'm fourteen, Ron, not five. I don't have to knock."

"You do, though!" Ron frowned.

Ginny shook her head, grinned devilishly, and Hermione knew Ginny'd won.

"Well, anyway, what do you want, Little Miss Fourth-Year-Who's-Got-A-Fifth-Year-Boyfriend?" asked Ron.

Ignoring Ron's comment at first, Ginny turned to Hermione. "Mum sent me to let you know -- Dad went to go get Harry and-"

"Today?!" Hermione shrieked. "Now?!"

Ginny nodded but wrinkled her eyebrows and continued, "So, Ron, you've got-"

"He wasn't supposed to be here until tomorrow!" Hermione squealed.

"Hermione, would you shut up and stop interrupting?" said Ron irritably.

Hermione shut up.

"Anyway, Ron, you've got to clean up around here…" Ginny curled her lip and wrinkled her nose at the plate of food that had been sitting on Ron's desk for three days.

Ron stood up and threw the plate away.

"Done," said Ron, grinning innocently.

Ginny sighed in exasperation and tutted. "I've got to go, I'm going to go de-gnome the garden… Hermione," she said, "Your hair looks fine."

"Does it? You sure?" Hermione was holding a mirror in front of her, running a brush through her long, sleek hair that Mrs. Weasley had cast a straightening spell upon. (Mrs. Weasley did it because Hermione wasn't allowed to, being underage.) The mirror did a quick examination of Hermione, then words popped up onto the glass in curly blue writing,

"Your hair looks lovely. Put on more eye liner. Your lipstick is fine. Put a nice pin in your hair, and take off some of that eye shadow. Next time, get a shade darker of foundation; You've tanned since the last time you used it."

"Well… mirror's orders," Hermione sighed. The mirror was a ProFriend 02, a staple in every 15-year-old witches' vanity. Hermione followed the mirror's directions and tried not to look as though she were in desperate anticipation of Harry's arrival.

"Hermione, you idiot, calm down! It's just Harry!" Ron looked disgusted.

Hermione calmed down. "You're right, Ron. Harry's seen me loads of times. Why is this time any different?

Ron shrugged. He turned to Ginny, who was leaving to go spend the night at a friend's.

"See you, Ginny," he said.

"See you, Fifth-Year-Who-Doesn't-Have-A-Fifth-Year-Girlfriend."

***

Meanwhile…

Harry packed the last of his potions ingredients into his cauldron with his textbooks, and loaded the cauldron into the trunk with his robes, wand, dragon-hide gloves, and other school supplies. He was expecting the Weasleys to be here to get him at any moment. A thought struck Harry… Hermione would be at the Burrow.

His heart jumped.

Harry snapped himself back to reality as a knock sounded on his door. It was Nora.

"'Lo, Nora."

"Don't you mean, 'G'bye, Nora?'"

"Well… yes…I suppose."

"Have a nice time with the Weasleys."

"Sure you don't want to go, then?"

Nora shook her head. "No. You're lucky, got friends who'll take you in. I don't have an owl so I haven't even talked to any of my friends all summer."

"From what I hear, you're quite popular at Hogwarts."

Nora flushed. "You could say that, I s'pose." Harry noticed that her accent was sort of like Hagrid's, only much prettier, considering it was a girl talking. Her speech all flowed together and she silenced her H's.

"But you're *sure* you don't want to come?"

"Positive, thanks, Harry. I'll be fine, dun' you worry. Came t'say G'bye, though, goin to lunch and you're leaving. I'll see you on the thirty-first, eh?"

Harry nodded. Nora turned to go, then paused. "You sure are lucky, Harry. Life with the Dursleys or anyone like them… t'aint easy. No, t'aint easy."

She left. Harry wondered what she meant. He'd always known the Dursleys were evil, but was Nora being abused?

He didn't really have time to consider this, though, because he heard a clamor in the living room below, and Aunt Petunia's screams.

Mr. Weasley had arrived.

Harry grabbed his trunk and Hedwig's cage and hurried (as fast as one lugging an extremely heavy trunk can hurry) down the stairs.

"Hello, Mr. Dursley, Arthur Weasley, we met last year. I'm here to pick up Harry."

"Oh, yes. Wait just a moment please."

From the semi-civil conversation going on, Harry assumed that this year's Floo Powder trip had gone much more smoothly than the previous year's… Harry remembered the Ton-Tongue Toffee Dudley had eaten, and the big fuss everyone made on how to remove the three-foot tongue Dudley had obtained from the snack devised by the Weasley twins.

"'Lo, Mr. Weasley," Harry smiled and waved as he descended the stairs.

"All right, Harry?"

"Yes, and you?"

"Great. Ready to go?"

"Definitely." Harry turned to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. "G'bye, then, see you next June, eh?"

The two nodded and Uncle Vernon said something gruffly under his breath that sounded somewhat like "Have a good term," or at least that's what Harry hoped he'd said. Harry didn't bother saying goodbye to Dudley; chances were he was eating in the kitchen and didn't want to be disturbed.

Mr. Weasley led Harry to the fireplace. He threw in a pinch of Floo Powder, and the fire flared up, a bright Kelly green.

"You first, then, Harry," Mr. Weasley said politely.

Harry stepped into the fire and shouted, "THE BURROW!"

Harry saw the many grates whizzing past him, like they always did when traveling by Floo Powder. Soon, he found himself hurling out of the fireplace in the living room of the Burrow. Hedwig's cage fell over and she let out a loud hoot of discontent. As soon as Harry had stood up and brushed off and righted Hedwig's cage, he stepped out of the way. A moment later, Mr. Weasley came through the fireplace.

Mrs. Weasley bustled into the room and over to Harry. She gave him a tight hug. "Oh, Welcome Back, Harry."

They were the sweetest words Harry could think of. The Burrow was Harry's favorite place in the whole world… well, except for Hogwarts, that is.

Mrs. Weasley let go of Harry and walked to the foot of the stairs. She screamed up to the top,

"Ron! Ginny! Fred! George! Hermione! Harry's here!"

Hermione.

Harry's heart leapt again.

The four redheaded Weasleys came bounding down the stairs. Hermione followed, walking a bit more slowly.

When the light fell upon her face, Harry was shocked.

Her hair, once wild and untamed, was straight and beautiful. She had a bit of makeup on, and Harry barely recognized her. She was radiant.

"'Oy, Harry!" Ron clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry was still looking at Hermione, who nervously tucked a bit of hair behind her ear and looked straight ahead.

"How've you been, Harry?" said either Fred or George.

"Had a good holiday?" said the other twin.

Hermione turned and met Harry's gaze. She smiled.

"I - I'm doing great," Harry said, almost in a whisper. Mesmerized by Hermione's appearance as well as the new way she carried herself, tall and proud instead of shy and scared, he couldn't rip his eyes off of her.

"Miss me, Harry?" Hermione asked.

All Harry could do was nod.

Hermione grinned widely and gave Harry a hug. Harry held on to her tightly, not wanting her to let go. And they stood there, in an embrace. Eventually, Ron cleared his throat and said,

"All right, you two, you have to come up for air some time."

Hermione and Harry started laughing.

"SUPPER'S READY!" Mrs. Weasley called from the kitchen.

"Good, I'm starved," Ron said, and the Weasleys headed into the kitchen, leaving Harry and Hermione in the living room.

"I'll be right in, Ron," Harry said.

Ron grinned.

Hermione and Harry stood at each other for a long time. Hermione bit her lip and shuffled her feet.

"So…" they both said at the same time, then started laughing.

"Thank you for the birthday present," said Harry.

Hermione nodded.

"Harry! Hermione! Supper's on the table!" It was Ginny, standing in the doorway and smiling. "Mum said to break you two up." She left.

"Well, let's go eat then, shall we?" Hermione suggested.

The last thing on Harry's mind right now was food, but he nodded anyway.

Hermione turned, then hesitated. She turned back around and gave Harry a quick kiss on the cheek. She flushed red as she realized what she'd just done, and turned away again.

Harry caught her arm and turned her around. He held her close to him and kissed her gently on the lips. Hermione smiled. They both jumped when they saw Ron in the doorway.

"Would you two come--" Ron stopped. His eyes bugged out of his head as he beheld the scene in front of him: Hermione standing wrapped up in Harry's arms. "On?" Ron finished in a whisper.

Harry nodded and smiled. He drew away from Hermione and walked into the kitchen without looking back. Hermione came to the table about ten seconds later.

No one mentioned anything about it during dinner. No one mentioned anything about it before bed. No one mentioned it until very, very early morning, when Harry was awakened by a knock on the door.

There stood Hermione, dressed in pajamas. She smiled and said, "Morning, Harry."

Harry was overjoyed. Hermione had woken up early to come and see him. "Morning, Hermione."

"Would you like to come and watch the sunrise with me?" Hermione asked meekly.

Harry nodded and took Hermione's hand. She led him out through the window and onto the roof.

"Wow… you come out here a lot? It's gorgeous," Harry breathed. He paused and looked at Hermione. "Just like you."

Hermione's face went deep red. She smiled modestly. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out.

Harry, still groggy and sleepy, laid down onto his back and gazed up and the pink sky.

Hermione looked as though she were thinking about doing something; she bit her lip and her eyes darted around madly.

Suddenly, Hermione leaned down and kissed Harry softly on the lips. She closed her eyes and grinned. Harry grinned back.

He pulled her down and laid her head on his chest. He ran his fingers through her sleek brown hair.

Harry blinked his green eyes up at the sun, which was rising above the tree tops now. He heard Hermione's breathing; it was slowing. After a bit, Harry twisted his neck to look at Hermione's face. Her eyes were closed.

"Hermione?" Harry whispered, but no response; she was asleep.

***

Hermione never had terribly strange dreams, but this was a special occasion; she'd never laid her head down on Harry's chest, either. Hermione had been lying there, watching the sunrise with Harry, when she'd fallen asleep. Her nap was plagued with an odd reverie:

"Let go of the ring, silly girl." The drawling voice was growing nearer. "Take it off. Now."

"Never," Hermione gasped, clutching her left hand to her chest and touching the ruby with her right index finger. She felt all of the strength leaving her body. If she just took the ring off… she could be strong again, but the man would grow strong as well. No… she'd always told herself she would die to save Harry, but now she knew the truth… he had died to save her. There had been no accident. If she left the ring on, she would soon be with Harry.

"Hermione!"

"Harry?" Hermione wheezed, looking around frantically. "Is that you?"

"Help me, Hermione… please."

"Where… are… you…?" Hermione whispered.

"Beside you, Hermione…help me, please…"

"It's too late, Harry, he's already come."

There was a deadly silence, then the sound of running footsteps.

"Harry?"

Silence.

"Harry!"

The silence pierced Hermione's heart and she just wanted to let go of everything. A silent tear burned Hermione's cheek as she thought of Harry deserting her.

"Harry! Please! Don't run away!"

"That was not Harry running away, foolish girl, it was me approaching. You're even more stupid than I thought." The man gave Hermione a sharp kick in the ribs and she yelped like a wounded puppy. She collapsed and closed her eyes.

"Take the ring off!"

"Why… do you want… me… alive?" Hermione tried to look up at the man. "Why… don't you want me… dead?"

"We have some things to ask you." The man grinned maliciously.

"I know nothing… about Harry." Hermione was speaking so quietly she could barely hear herself.

"I'm sure, my dear, that under -- oh, the Cruciatus Curse, perhaps, you'd contain invaluable information for my Lord."

"No… I know nothing…"

The man hadn't heard Hermione; he was mumbling to himself, "Blast that ring, the Accio didn't work… can't cast the Cruciatus on her, not while she's wearing it…damned ring…"

"I KNOW NOTHING!" Hermione shrieked suddenly, her pupils dilating abruptly. She screamed in pain as the ring grew hot and burned her flesh.

"No!" The man shouted. "No! She can't die! My Lord! What shall I do?!"

"I KNOW NOTHING! I DON'T KNOW HOW HE DIED!" Hermione's cries echoed through the hall.

Just as suddenly as her seizure had begun, Hermione stopped moving.

She was dead.

***

"Hermione?" Harry gently shook Hermione's shoulders. She had been whimpering and twitching in her sleep. She'd been muttering, I know nothing, over and over.

"W-W-What?" Hermione woke with a start. "Harry!" she turned to Harry.

"My God, Hermione, are you all right?" Harry pulled the shivering Hermione to his chest and kissed the top of Hermione's head. Her shivers and shakes subsided.

Hermione explained her dream to Harry.

"What did the man look like?" Harry pressed worriedly.

Hermione shook her head, her eyes staring blankly. "I don't know… blonde?" She narrowed her eyes. "Yes… blonde."

Harry paused. Then he gasped. "I know who it was, Hermione."

Hermione stared anxiously at Harry. "Who?" she pressed.

"Lucius Malfoy."