Heir Unapparent

by She

How can Voldemort surpass his former glory if his Heir is Unapparent?

2. Summer's End

Heir Unapparent: Chapter Two-Summer's End

Although Hermione Granger awoke with a beam of sunshine slanting across her face, she had actually been roused by the insistent tap of an imperious paw. Squinting, she beheld the familiar visage of her orange tabby, Crookshanks, whose bottlebrush tail twitched spasmodically to punctuate his strident mews. He had gotten her out of bed this way every morning since she and her parents had returned from their visit to Bulgaria two weeks ago. Crookshanks, who was rather dependent upon Hermione for his feline sense of security, had been most put out by her absence. He had been forced to endure the care of a neighbor lady who fussed at him but had no understanding of his sensitive nature. Each morning, she would attempt to lure him to his dish with annoying clicking sounds of her tongue followed by pitiable murmurs of "Here, you big ol' cutiepie pussycat, here now!" If he had not been famished he would never have deigned to take anything from this cloying woman. Toward the end of his ordeal, he had actually allowed her to stroke his head. Once. Luckily his family had returned that afternoon and he was now making Hermione pay for every second of his neglect. Breakfast time was the worst, but she handled it with her usual good humor.

"Oh, 'morning, Crookshanks. Sleep well? No? Well it's your own fault if you insist on watching for owls at the window all night."

Hermione shifted the cat's considerable bulk from her chest and swung her legs over the side of her bed, fishing with her bare feet for her new slippers. They were of Eastern European origin, given to her as a gift by Victor Krum. He had muttered something about "vanting to keep her varm," and she had blushed terribly. Her parents had thought the slippers a quaint gift, the souvenir of a lovely visit; had he given her his grandmother's ring, as he had originally intended, her parents would have hit the roof. Fortunately for her parents and the roof, Krum's mother had not been able to locate the bauble before Hermione and her parents departed. At the airport, Victor had pressed the shoes into her hands and kissed her, quickly and somewhat awkwardly on the lips, asking if he could visit her at Hogwarts that year.

A bit breathless, she responded with a hurried, "Oh yes, of course, sure!" before her parents ushered her to the boarding gate. She turned and saw him standing just where she had left him, staring intently after her. Before she disappeared through the gate, she waved. In response, he had put his hand solemnly over his heart and continued to stare.

Once settled, she sank into the soft leather of her business class seat and thought back upon the past few days. Her parents had attended a conference ("World Dentistry in the New Millennium") at the Sheraton Sofia Hotel Balkan and she had been allowed to visit Victor and his family in the nearby village of Dragalevtsi. A charming town secluded by forests on the slopes of Mount Vitosha, Dragalevtsi was also home to a small number of wizarding families. Victor had introduced her to them, and despite the fact that most of them only spoke Bulgarian, Hermione could tell by their indulgent smiles and the claps on Victor's shoulder that they rather liked her. It also became apparent that Victor had truly meant what he said when, last year at Hogwarts, he had pulled her out of the lake and told her "that he'd never felt that way about anyone else." He was extremely attentive albeit very shy about holding her hand, which she found rather sweet in light of the fact that he was one of the world's most acclaimed Quidditch seekers. During her stay she attended a game with Victor's family. Seated between two of Krum's little sisters, she blushed redder than a Weasley's head when, on his victorious snatching of the golden snitch, he circled the stadium and blew her an enthusiastic kiss as he soared by. His sisters were all a twitter and told her, in their broken English, that "Victor crushes you, yes?" Hermione giggled at this; somehow she found it hard to believe that the famous Victor Krum could harbor a schoolboy crush on her.

The Krums were very gracious hosts and had taken the Grangers to the Gorublianski Hance, where they dined on traditional Bulgarian fare and were delighted by a lively performance of the Nestinarki fire dance. As this was her last night in town, Victor found the courage to hold her hand under the table and leaned in close to her to watch the dancers. She blushed again, but blamed it on the wine her parents had allowed her to drink with dinner.

Their visit had been very congenial, considering the sometimes awkward blending of wizarding and Muggle worlds. Funny, despite the fact that she was considered by the haughtier set at Hogwarts to be a "Mudblood" she had trouble thinking of her parents as "Muggles" or anything but fine just as they were. Why did one group need to make another wrong?

Lost in such thoughts, she did not hear her mother cough softly. "Ahem." Mrs. Granger nudged her daughter slightly.

"Hmmm? What's that, Mom?"

"I said," started her mother, gently but firmly, "that Victor is a darling young man and I hope you are taking your time to get to know him."

Hermione looked into her mother's soft hazel eyes. "We're really just friends, Mum…"

Her mother smiled. "Good. Keep it that way, for a while. You're much too young to be serious about anyone."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Mu-u-um! That's why you arranged this trip, isn't it? Didn't trust me to behave myself on my own?"

Still smiling her mother shook her head. "Not yet. Someday. In the meantime, Victor is a fine young man. And you're still my baby girl." She pulled her daughter in for a tiny hug. Hermione giggled like the little girl her mother believed her to be. It was nice to have a mum who cared.

She thought ruefully about Harry, who had endured another awful summer with the Dursleys. This one was even worse for him, due to that fact that Voldemort was now at large and knew where to find the hard-to-kill Harry Potter. But Dumbledore had assured them all that the Dursleys' home was the safest place for Harry at that time, and despite the fact that Hermione had repeatedly asked him as well as Professor McGonagall what types of spells they had used to safeguard the Dursleys, all she had gotten in response was, "Trust us."

Trust. Aside from her parents and dearest friends, Ron and Harry, there was nobody in the world Hermione trusted more than Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall. Then there was Hagrid, their dear friend who was probably trying to negotiate with the troll community with his friend Madame Maxime. Oh, and of course Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, who was currently somewhere contacting Remus Lupin and others in gathering forces against Voldemort.

She shuddered as she placed an extra-full dish of cat food in Crookshank's path. He purred loudly and busied himself with his breakfast. Hermione poured herself a cup of coffee; she had learned to enjoy it very much in Bulgaria, though she insisted on using milk, which made Victor tease her. She smiled as she mused what the reaction at Hogwarts would be when she requested morning coffee instead of tea. Maybe Winky could learn to specialize in preparing the coffee she was learning to appreciate. Maybe that would help her to find something new to occupy herself, like "Winky's Wake-Up Brew"…

Hermione pulled her attention back to the present. She knew she was all too capable of immersing herself in other people's issues when she really needed to focus on some of her own. She picked up an old copy of The Daily Prophet, which she now had delivered to the house. On the front page was a photograph of Victor, victorious in the game with Macedonia, snitch in one hand. From the photo, he continued to blow kisses in Hermione's direction. While the article said nothing about Hermione or Krum's family cheering him in the booth, Hermione felt a tinge of nerves. When she had talked to the Weasleys to arrange her customary "end of the summer" stay yesterday, Ron had been rather strange. After arranging her "fireplace arrival" for four o'clock three days hence, he asked her if she had taken Krum up on his offer to visit.

"Er, yes, actually. Mum and Dad had a dental conference in Sofia, so they let me visit with the Krums for a couple of days…"

"Went to the Quidditch game, then?"

"Yes, I thought of you during the game, Ron - you would have loved it! Victor did that…what's it called? A wonky faint?"

Ron's voice was tight. "That's Wronski feint. Thought of me, did you? Well, I doubt that I would've enjoyed the game much at all; Macedonia's not much of a team, now, are they?"

Hermione was a bit taken aback. "I guess I don't follow Quidditch too closely…"

Ron interrupted her quickly. "So, how many days were you there, then?"

"Only four altogether."

"Visit lots of cozy libraries, did you?"

Hermione was getting annoyed. "Actually, I did see a very lovely library in Sofia, at the University."

Ron was silent for a second, then blurted out, "Your parents actually left you alone with that guy? He… he's too old for you!"

Hermione sighed. She should've guessed that Ron would have reacted this way. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I was never alone with him, okay? He has a really big, friendly family and…"

"I have a big friendly family too, you know." Silence on both ends. Then, "When are you going to get here?"

After re-establishing her arrival time and finding out that Harry also would be arriving at the Burrow earlier that morning, she rung off with Ron.

She recalled this stilted conversation as she nursed her morning coffee. Ron could be so damned obstinate. If he would only realize that he didn't have to…

Well. If he didn't figure it out by himself, she would have to help him. In a subtle way. He'd be furious if he thought she knew that he really liked her. As more than friends.

And her mother would be worried if she knew how Hermione felt about Ron. More roofs raised, no doubt. For now, she'd keep it to herself. But if Ron continued to behave like a stubborn ass, she would be hard pressed to do so.

Three days later, the Burrow was in its usual state of disarray as it welcomed its visitors. Mrs. Weasley, busy in the kitchen preparing dinner, looked up from her saucepans to study her eldest son critically. "Darling, when are you going to trim that mane of yours?"

"Mum!" sighed Bill Weasley, helping himself to a cup of coffee. He kissed her cheek lightly.

"I think it looks great!" piped Ginny, who adored her older brother almost as much as she did their famous guest.

This guest nodded in agreement. Harry Potter had to admit, "It's cool, Bill. Wish I could grow a tail myself!"

"Me too!" chimed Ron, who already looked like a younger version of Bill. His long legs protruded from the kitchen table, and Percy Weasley tripped over them as he came rushing in to grab some floo powder.

"Damn it, Ron! You did that on purpose!" he accused as he readjusted his hat.

"Not my fault you're too busy to watch where you're going, dummy!" shot back Ron, who tucked his feet quickly back under the table as his mother turned to him.

"Now, honey, don't tease your brother! You know how he gets when he has to go into the office."

"Stupid git…" Ron muttered to Harry, who nodded in sympathy. Percy, in the best of times, was a bit over-zealous about this job at the Ministry of Magic. Since the unfortunate news of Barty Crouch's untimely death, Percy had been really working overtime. His reports on cauldron bottoms had been abandoned for more pressing matters.

Charlie Weasley patted Percy on the back as he slid into a chair beside Ginny. "Been pretty hectic, eh, Perce?" Charlie was, by far, the kindest toward his self-important younger brother.

"Oh, yes, it certainly has!" and Percy proceeded to recite a long list of his many in-box items. Most had to do with the outbreak of dark arts reports that had been slowly but steadily beginning to stream into the office since the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Percy was elaborating when Mrs. Weasley, glancing worriedly at Harry, coughed significantly. "There, now, dear, you'd best be getting on so you can make it back before dinner is completely cold!"

"Yeah, for a guy in a hurry, you sure got enough time to babble." observed Fred from a corner of the kitchen. He was repairing his broomstick with the help of his twin, George, who let out a characteristic whoop of laughter.

Percy gave a peevish "hmpf," grabbed the floo powder and huffed out, robes fluttering behind him.

"Oh, excuse me!" said a gentle voice from the family room. This was followed by a sincere apology from Percy. "Forgot you were coming at four, Hermione. On my way to the office…"

"Oh, please don't let me keep you then!" was her polite retort and, in the next instant, Hermione appeared in the Weasley kitchen with Crookshanks cradled in her arms. The cat spied an errant gnome and, with a gleeful meow, sprang to the floor and chased it out the kitchen door.

"Hello, darling!" said Mrs. Weasley, coming over to hug the new arrival before turning to the twins. "Put that nonsense away and get out to that garden! I will NOT have those gnomes overrunning our party tonight!"

"Aw, Mum! Just another minute…"

"NOW, Fred. You too, George."

"Why can't Ron do it? It's his turn…" grumbled George as he rose from his stool.

"Ron has guests. Now get, both of you!" and she hustled them out the back door after Crookshanks.

In the meantime, Hermione had settled herself in the chair Bill gallantly held out for her. "Wow, Hermione - you must be a foot taller than last time I saw you!"

Hermione blushed under his warm regard and giggled. "Only three inches, Bill!" she scooted in beside Harry and kissed his cheek. "Hi, Harry!" then beamed around the table. "Hi Ron, hi Ginny, oh, Charlie too! Hi there!"

"Hey." was Ron's spare response. He met her eyes but looked down quickly.

The others were more effusive. Harry hugged her, as did Ginny, leaning awkwardly over both Ron and Harry. "Oooh, I'm glad you're here! I've got so much to tell you!"

"I can't wait!" Hermione smiled at her petite friend, whose face had a fresh smattering of freckles from the summer sun.

"You do look different, Hermione." observed Charlie, squinting an eye at her. "New hairdo?"

Hermione laughed good-naturedly. "Gosh, no! I just pulled it back, that's all. It turns into a real mop in this muggy weather."

"It looks like mine, Herm," laughed Bill, tugging her ponytail playfully. "We could be twins!"

"At least her hair is suitable, Bill." Declared Mrs. Weasley. "Honestly, won't you…"

"Mu-u-um! Enough!" cried Bill, rolling his eyes heavenward.

Hermione and Harry exchanged knowing smiles. The Hair was always a topic of lively discourse in the Weasley household.

"So, how was your summer, dear?"

"Oh, fine, Mrs. Weasley, really fine."

"Would you like some tea, dear?"

Hermione glanced at the coffeepot. "Um, actually, a cup of coffee would be lovely, please."

"Ah! A coffee lover, too! Twins and kindred spirits!" exclaimed Bill, placing an arm around Hermione's shoulders and filling the cup that Mrs. Weasley set before her.

Ron's eyes narrowed as he leaned across Harry to regard her. "Coffee? Since when?"

"Er, I learned to enjoy it on holiday." explained Hermione. "May I have some milk, please, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Certainly, dear. Holiday, eh?" Mrs. Weasley set a pitcher of fresh milk on the table. "Where did you go? Tell us all about it!"

Hermione shot Ron a sidelong glance as she poured some milk into her cup. He was still staring at her through narrowed eyes. "Um, my folks had a conference in Bulgaria and they let me come along."

"Oooh, a foreign trip! How exciting! Did you see him?" asked Ginny, her eyes wide in contrast to Ron's slits.

"Who's 'him'?" asked Charlie.

"Some Neanderthal git." muttered Ron.

"How's that?" asked the innocent Charlie.

"Krum. Victor Krum. That seeker for the Bulgarian National." Ron spat then looked down at the table, sullen.

"Really? Really, Hermione? The Victor Krum?" Charlie, a former Quidditch captain at Hogwarts and still an avid fan, was enthusiastic. "Wow! That's some catch - how'd you meet him?"

Harry noticed Hermione's reticence and jumped in to help her out. "At the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Charlie, remember? Krum was the Durmstrang competitor."

"And her date at the Yule Ball!" sighed Ginny.

"That so, Hermione? An ardent beau, eh?" asked Bill.

Hermione shook her head and made a careful study of the way the milk changed the color of the coffee in her cup.

Bill tsked and pulled her to his side for a brief hug. "Well, he better not plan on making time with my best girl!"

Hermione laughed self-consciously. Ron transferred his glare to his older brother.
"He's too old for her!" he said in a tight voice.

Bill now tsked him. "Too old? Sheesh, he's pushing twenty, right? Put him out to pasture!" He turned back to Hermione. "Well, you just stick to me, okay, Hermione? I may be an old git, too, but I make a great cup of coffee!"

Charlie had been noting his youngest brother's reaction and, when the red blotches on his cheeks started creeping to his hairline, he stood up and quickly intervened. "C'mon, Bill, let's get those tables set up!"

Rising, Bill kissed the top of Hermione's curly head. "See you later, doll." and followed Charlie out into the garden.

"Ginny, why don't you take Hermione upstairs and get her settled in?" suggested Mrs. Weasley absently as she counted out potatoes with her wand.

"Sure, Mum!" Ginny took Hermione by the hand. "Let's get your stuff!"

Hermione followed Ginny out of the kitchen with relief. Other than "hey", Ron had not said one kind word to her. And "hey" was no great revelation.

"How about you two setting the table?" came the next marching order from Mrs. Weasley.

"Right!" agreed Harry, grabbing a stack of plates and hurrying after Ron, who was stalking away with silverware clenched in either fist.

"Um, Ron?"

Ron slowed his pace and Harry caught up.

"Yeah?"

"Is there something bothering you?"

"No, why?" Ron's tone belied his answer.

"It's just…well, you seem upset."

"Do I? Can't think why."

"Are you…well, mad? At Hermione, I mean?"

Ron shot Harry a quick glance. "Why should I be mad at Hermione?"

"I don't know, you just seem kind of put out."

Ron stopped dead in his tracks and brandished a fistful of forks at Harry. "Listen, if she wants to act like a big flirt, that's her problem."

Harry was astonished. "A flirt? Hermione?"

"Yeah, Hermione. Didn't you see her? Kissing you, cuddling up to Bill? What do you call that?"

"Gee, Ron, I thought Bill was kind of flirting with her." He avoided the kiss. He wasn't going near that one.

Ron stared at Harry for a minute. "You did?" Then, "What about all that coffee nonsense?"

"Ron, you were the one who started that!"

Ron humphed and started walking again. "It's just…she's putting on airs, that's what she's doing!"

Harry shook his head. If Ron kept this up, it was going to be a tough year.

They arrived as Bill and George finished putting tablecloths on the battered tables.

"Duck, Harry!"

Harry had just set down the plates when he heard George call out. Then a gnome whizzed past his left ear. Crookshanks merrily bounded up and off the table, wrinkling the tablecloth and startling Ron, who dropped his silverware.

"That cat is as impossible as she is!" he bellowed irritably.

Bill chuckled, charming the tablecloth back to its original state. "Who, your girlfriend?"

Ron dropped the cutlery again. "My WHAT?"

Bill nudged Ron in the ribs and winked. "You know, Hermione, the cute brunette?"

Ron's face reddened like a tomato. He replied in a strangled voice, "She…is…NOT…my…GIRLFRIEND!"

"Really?" Bill turned to Charlie. "Didn't you just tell me that Ron and Hermione…"

"What?!" Ron stared at Charlie, aghast.

Charlie laughed good-naturedly. "C'mon, Ron! You can tell us. It's so obvious!"

"Is NOT!" shot Ron, who hurriedly corrected himself by adding, "I mean…she's NOT my girlfriend!"

Charlie rolled his eyes and Bill shrugged. "Okay. Then she's your girlfriend, Harry?"

Harry responded quickly as Ron turned The Glare on him. "No! No, we're just friends, Bill."

Bill laughed. "Right. Well, then the coast is clear for me!"

Ron started to make movements with his mouth that finally sputtered into "You… you're too old for her!!"

Bill finished setting each place with a flourish of his wand. "I'm not that ancient, kid. There. She can sit next to me, then." He winked at Charlie, who just shook his head. "Unless you'd mind, that is?"

Ron clenched his fists. "I could care less, you stupid git!" and stomped off.

Charlie clucked his tongue and said, "Bill, cool it - it's his first crush."

"Oh, come on, Charlie! A little competition is just what the kid needs to get him out of that shell!"

Harry ran after Ron, thinking that Victor Krum was plenty of competition for anyone.

He caught up with Ron at the small pond behind the garden shed. Ron was throwing rocks into it so hard that water was splashing back in his face.

"Ron, Bill was just teasing you. Don't take it so hard."

"Bill is a stupid jerk!" spat Ron, hurling another stone. "He's also tall, good-looking and… and… cool!"

"Come on, relax. You know she likes you!"

Ron paused, arm poised over his head. "What do you mean, she likes me? Did she tell you that?"

Harry shifted his feet uncomfortably. "Well, no… not in so many words. But I can just tell."

Ron lowered his arm and dropped the rock at his feet. "How? How can you tell?"

"Well, she always… that is… well, look. She wanted to ask you to the Yule Ball, didn't she?"

"Did she? Then why did she go with Krum?"

"Because you didn't ask her!"

"Did too!"

"No, you didn't. Only as a last resort, remember?"

Ron brushed this off. "But she likes Krum!"

"Yeah, but he's not around, is he?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Harry was losing his patience. "It means you better start showing her how you feel! You've got the… the home court advantage!"

Ron thought about this for a moment. "Yeah, I guess… hey, wait a minute. I'm NOT saying I like her or anything, Harry…"

Harry sighed. Ron could be so thick sometimes. "Just be nicer to her, okay?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, okay. But I'm not promising anything."

Harry followed Ron through the garden. This was going to be a tough year, all right. Voldemort incarnate, and Ron in denial.

When they got back, they found Charlie had erected a magical rose arbor over the tables and Bill was weaving chains of flowers through it to the music of Weird Sister on the WWN. Catching sight of Hermione, Bill set down his wand and bowing, swept her into his arms for an impromptu waltz. Charlie followed suit with Ginny and soon the girls were giggling as the eldest Weasleys steered them between the gnomes Fred and George kept hurling across the yard. As the song ended, Bill bowed over Hermione's hand and kissed it. She smiled and curtseyed, then caught sight of Ron and Harry. Ron was leaning impassively against the rose arbor. Bill turned and grinned. "You want the next dance Ron?"

Ron snorted. "With you? No thanks, Bill."

Hermione ran over to Harry, who was looking aggravated. "You okay, Harry? Not worried about, well, anyone, are you?"

Harry wondered if Hermione had caught on to Ron's posturing. "You mean, here?"

Hermione shook her head and lowered her voice. "I mean, you-know-who. Please tell me you haven't had any trouble since… since…"

Harry sensed her delicacy and appreciated it. Despite the fact that over two full months had passed since his dreadful ordeal with Voldemort, he had not been able to shake the nagging concern that at any time he may meet with his worst enemy. He touched his wand reflexively, always carrying it with him now. "No, the Dursley summer was awful, but only for the usual reasons."

Hermione sighed and hugged him. "Oh Harry, I'm so relieved. I've really been worried about you."

Harry hugged her back. "Thanks, Hermione."

They broke apart as Ron appeared behind her and "ahemed."

"What is this, a hug fest? How come you're hugging everybody, Hermione? Learn that in Bulgaria, too, did you?"

Harry looked at him warningly over Hermione's shoulder and shook his head vehemently. Ron ignored him. Hermione turned, hands on her hips. "No, I did NOT learn this Bulgaria. I happen to be an affectionate person and I hug people I care about, okay?"

"Yeah? Then how come you haven't hugged me?"

"If you'd just shut up, maybe I would!"

Ron copied her stance, fists on his hips and shut his mouth so tight his lips puckered.

Hermione glared at him for an instant, then laughed and threw her arms around him. He stiffened with surprise at first, then hugged her back. He'd grown over the summer, too, and was now a full head taller than Hermione. Her nose brushed the crook of his neck and her hair tickled his cheek. For a moment, he buried his face in her curls and inhaled deeply. Her hair smelled good - spicy, like cinnamon. His arms tightened around her and he sighed. In response, she hugged him tighter too. Ron felt he could hold her in his arms until it was time to board the Hogwart's Express tomorrow, but was interrupted by a weird music near his left ear. Raising his head, he saw a violin suspended midair, playing something sickeningly sweet and noticed that rose petals were snowing heavily down on them. Fred and George, who had finished their de-gnoming, were whooping with laughter at their prank. Hermione looked up and wrinkled her nose as rose petals showered her upturned face. Her eyes were sparkling and she gazed directly into Ron's. He had gone quite red. He awkwardly grinned down at her.

"You've got flowers in your hair."

"Do I?"

"Yeah. Bet it smells even better now."

She positively twinkled. "What a nice thing to say!"

"Yeah, well… Okay, you guys, knock it off!" he bellowed and released Hermione, making for George who had added bubbles to the roses; when they popped they made little smacking noises.

"Wish I'd kissed her," thought Ron. "Maybe later, when there aren't so many idiot brothers around…" He found that his mood had improved enormously. Amazing, what a good hug could do.

Dinner at the Burrow was delicious as always, and those gathered around the table were engaged in lively conversations. Ron, in better spirits since The Hug, talked with Harry about their friend Sirius Black.

"Have you had an owl from him lately?"

Hermione, seated on Ron's other side, leaned in to join the conversation. Ron accommodated her by draping his arm around the back of her chair, shooting a triumphant glance at Bill, who was seated beside her. Bill chuckled softly and returned to his discussion with Mr. Weasley.

Harry, looking concerned, nodded. "Right before I left. Delivered by some kind of bird I've never seen before. God knows where he is now…"

Hermione leaned her hand lightly on Ron's knee. Ron beamed. "But what did he say, Harry?"

"He said he was in a hurry and had to be brief. He went directly to Lupin, and they're putting together a group to help Dumbledore. Oh, and he told me we had to stick together, more than ever, we three. He said it twice, so I guess it must be important."

Ron let his arm slide down the back of Hermione's chair to her shoulders and threw the other one around Harry's. "Well, that's no problem, is it? We've always done that, since we were ickle firsties."

"Well, yes," agreed Hermione, inclining her head slightly on Ron's shoulder. Ron beamed again. She also reached out and took Harry's hand. "But it must be important, if Sirius said it twice in a brief letter. I wonder why?"

Their conversation was interrupted by Fred, who was looking at them as if they were nuts. "What are you guys doing over there? Menage-a-trois?"

"Fred! Watch your language!" warned Mrs. Weasley.

The three friends laughed, a bit embarrassed. Ron left his arm around Hermione's shoulders, though. She didn't seem to mind at all.

They were about to continue their speculation when Percy Weasley apparated at the dinner table with a small popping sound. He looked unusually pale and tight-lipped. "Goodness, dear! We were afraid you were going to miss dinner altogether!" exclaimed his mother.

"Sorry, Mum," he muttered, taking the empty seat by his father.

Mr. Weasley looked up from his conversation with Bill. "Good lord, Percy. You look terrible! What's wrong?"

Percy, elbows on the table, buried his face in his hands for a few seconds. His father put an arm around his shoulders and even the twins leaned forward with concern. After a few shaking breaths, Percy looked at his father. "It's Rachel Greene. She…she's dead."

Rachel Greene was a young witch who had started work at the Ministry a year before Percy. They had been good friends.

"What?" Mr. Weasley exchanged glances with his wife. "When…how…?"

Percy stared numbly at his plate, on which his dinner was starting to congeal. "Don't know when, exactly. One of Amos' assistants stumbled across her body, not far from Diagon Alley."

Mrs. Weasley had put a comforting hand on Percy's. "But how, dear? What happened?"

Percy shook his head. "As to how, well…" he glanced dully around the table, seeming not to want to say. At last, he looked into his mother's eyes. "It must have been Avada Kedavra."

A collective gasp was heard around the table. Ron instinctively pulled Hermione closer and leaned in toward Harry, as if to take Sirius's warning literally. Mr. Weasley at last broke the silence. "Do they have any idea who, son?"

Percy shook his head again. "Not specifically. But I think we all know who, in general…" He looked directly into Harry's eyes.

Harry nodded; he knew this kind of thing would happen now. "Voldemort."

Everyone at the table flinched.

"Yeah." nodded Percy, for once not correcting Harry to use the less specific "you-know-who" address reserved for the vile being who had reincarnated only two months ago. "That's what most people think, although Fudge still refuses to acknowledge…"

Charlie stood up angrily. "Fudge is an idiot! If he keeps turning a blind eye to this, it's like opening the door and inviting him in!"

Percy shuddered, recalling Rachel Greene's gaunt face and staring eyes. "That's not all. She…she's not the only one they found, like that…"

Everyone waited while Percy tried to collect himself. He was shaking slightly and it was a painful sight; Percy, albeit pompous, was usually so self-controlled it troubled them to see him so unhinged. At last he said, "There have been three others. Not all of them in London. But all in England. All died the same…way."

Bill leaned forward, intent. "How were they connected, Percy? What did they have in common?"

Percy shook his head, bewildered. "I don't know. It doesn't make any sense. They were all women, between twenty to forty years old, and they were English."

Bill sighed. "That's not much to go on, is it?"

Mr. Weasley stood up and looked at his wife. "I should go in, Molly."

She nodded, "Of course, dear." She pulled Percy close to her for a motherly hug; he did not resist. By the way his shoulders started to shake, it seemed obvious he was crying.

Bill and Charlie stood as well. "We'll come with you, Dad. Maybe we can lend a hand," said Bill.

The eldest Weasley males disapparated. Mrs. Weasley turned to those remaining at the table. "Off to bed, everyone." She was now rocking Percy as if he was a baby.

The youngest Weasleys and their guests made their way silently back to the house. Ron was still holding onto Hermione. They were all as pale as Percy had been. Even Crookshanks seemed subdued, as he snaked past them and slunk into Ginny's bedroom, where Hermione would soon be sleeping. Ginny followed him and climbed directly into her bed, curling herself into a ball under the covers.

Before they parted in the hallway, Harry pulled his two friends aside. "I'm going to send an owl to Sirius right away."

Ron nodded. "We'll get Pig to take it. Be right up, Harry."

As Harry and the twins climbed the stairs, Ron took Hermione's hand and said, awkwardly, "I… I just want you to know, Hermione, that… well, I want you to know that… I don't want anything to happen to you…"

Despite the anxiety she felt at hearing such tangible news of Voldemort's growing strength, she smiled up at him. "Remember what Sirius said. We'll stick together this year."

"Yeah, we will…" and he bent down to kiss her, quickly. Hearing his mother coming back to the house with Percy, he let her go, watching until she had reached Ginny's room. She paused at the door and smiled back at him. He was smiling, too. As he climbed the stairs, he wondered at the conflicting emotions he felt. On one hand, Voldemort had started to show his handiwork and that terrified him. On the other hand, Hermione had let him kiss her and he could have floated up the remaining steps to his room.

And somewhere in Little Hangleton, an angry wizard was shaking a long, spidery finger at his humble servant, who had botched yet another assignment…

To be continued, of course…