Harry's shock wore off rather quickly, replaced by anger. Damn you Voldemort, he thought angrily. Why Hermione's sister? Why did she have to die? Why do you have to be so cruel? It seemed lately that Harry's world was focused on the word "why".
Then his anger turned to guilt. Voldemort knew who his friends were, Pettigrew told them, no doubt. So Voldemort knew by hurting one of Harry's friends, he would hurt Harry. And Harry was the reason Sabrina was dead.
Harry turned to Hermione, who was still crying. His throat constricted, all he could do was pat her gently on the back. By now, everyone was staring at the Gryffindor table, and more importantly, Hermione. Dumbledore himself came down from the staff table and asked what was wrong. Harry silently handed him the paper, and his expression turned grave. He held out his hand to Hermione, who hesitantly took it, and they walked out of the Great Hall, Hermione still sobbing.
A silence like no other was around the Great Hall, broken by McGonagall's chair scraping the floor as she, too, got up and followed the path out of the Great Hall. Snape followed suite. Harry and Ron immediately stood up and followed them. At the door, Snape turned around and ordered them to stay there.
"No," Harry and Ron said in unison.
Snape's eyes flashed. "What did you say?" he asked, voice dangerously low. The Great Hall was staring at Ron and Harry in awe.
"We said no," Harry replied, voice just as low. "Hermione's our friend, and we're not going to abandon her when she's upset. Especially now."
"And what does 'especially now' mean, Potter?" Snape hissed.
Harry had a sense of calmness and authority that he'd never felt before. He felt strangely adult. "Here is not the place to discuss it." Snape looked murderous, but he turned on his heel and stalked out of the Great Hall. Knowing they'd won, Harry and Ron followed. No one spoke until the four were out of the hall.
They started the familiar path to Dumbledore's office. When they came to the gargoyle, Snape said (somewhat sneering), "Canary Creams." and it swung open. Ron, despite his worry, looked amused and amazed--it was then that Harry realized he'd never been to Dumbledore's office before. He was also probably suprised that Dumbledore knew about his brother's inventions--then again, Dumbledore knew everything that was going on in Hogwarts at any given time.
A few minutes later, they knocked on the door and Dumbledore called, "Come in,". They entered to see Hermione sitting down in am armchair. She stopped sobbing, but tears still flowed freely down her cheeks. Harry and Ron rushed to her side. Hermione hugged Ron tightly and he blushed to the roots of his hair, but he never the less hugged her back. Hermione then let go and hugged Harry, but he didn't turn red--he turned blue. When she finally released him, he took a gasp for air.
"Sorry," Hermione said sadly. "It's just--Sabrina--" she broke down in sobs once more.
Snape and McGonagall stood awkwardly at the door with confused expressions on their faces. Dumbledore motioned them over and quietly told them what happened. McGonagall's expression softened, but Snape's face remained expressionless and without emotion.
"Why didn't anyone tell me at breakfast? Why didn't they tell me my sister was--was--dead!" Hermione choked out from against her position on Ron's shoulder. Harry frowned, he couldn't figure it out either, and by the looks on Ron's face, he was just as clue less.
Dumbledore stroked his chin thoughtfully, then looked down at the paper in his hands. He said, "The date on this paper is November 15, Hermione. Tomorrow. I think the press may have given the owl tomorrow's paper and he flew off with it, not knowing the date, since they didn't tell him to stay."
Hermione continued to sob, and everyone offered her their apologies and sympathy for the next half hour. Dumbledore told her firmly, "You are excused from classes until you feel like attending. I will contact you when I hear of the funeral arrangements. If you wish, Harry and Ron may go as well; however, it is up to you."
He continued softly, "I know this is hard for you, and it shows that Voldemort is, as we know, pure evil. But good will always prevail over evil, and you can hold your head high knowing that Sabrina's death was not in vain. In fact, something can be accomplished from it."
Ron raised an eyebrow, and he explained, "At the end of the article it shows that witnesses told them of a man with a pale, skull-like appearance and red eyes. All of their memories were wiped--except for your parents, Hermione--but this is vital information for Cornelius. Even if he does not heed our words, we will have gained supporters."
Hermione sniffed and nodded, then asked if she could go back to her dormitory--she was suddenly very tired. Dumbledore replied, "Of course," and had Ron escort her there. Harry would have gone, too, but he had to ask Dumbledore a question. Dumbledore sensed this and politely suggested the McGonagall and Snape had classes to teach, and to Harry's relief, they left.
"Professor? Why didn't my scar hurt when Voldemort killed Sabrina?" Harry said suddenly, his question wanting to spill from his lips as soon as he heard the news.
Dumbledore didn't answer for a moment, looking out of the window in thought. When he spoke again, Harry was alarmed to hear hatred in his voice. "Your scar, Harry, most likely alerts you when Voldemort is feeling anger, frustration, or murderous. It is possible that he did not feel these things when he murdered Sabrina. Perhaps he was--amused," he added, bitter reality in his words.
That was cruel, Harry reflected. Exactly what something Voldemort would feel. "Thank you, sir. I think I'm going to go and--er--comfort Hermione." Dumbledore nodded, and he left the office, his brain trying to soak in the new information.
***
The next evening, the shock of Sabrina's death was still not gone. The rest of the school got the paper in the morning, and most expressed sympathy to Hermione--all but the Slytherins, that is. Harry and Ron had to put up with Malfoy's teasing of the "Mudblood's dead sister" all day, and most of the time Harry had to keep a hold on Ron's robes so he couldn't jump Malfoy and wipe the smirk off his face. Ginny aided Harry whenever they passed in the corridors, but when they had adjoined classes, it was all up to Harry.
Hermione stayed shut up in her dormitory all day and didn't come down, not even for meals. Ron got concerned at her not eating and suggested that they go to the house elves and get some food for her during lunch, and Harry readily agreed. They walked the path to the kitchens and Harry was almost knocked down by Dobby fiercely hugging him as soon as they'd opened the portrait. Dobby also updated them on house elf news. Turns out that Winky had gotten over the stress of the Crouch's and was now helping Madam Pomfrey in the Infirmary.
There was another piece of news, something that made Harry and Ron almost break into laughter, despite their worries. Dobby motioned them to lean forward and whispered into their ears, "Dobby has a--a mate, sirs!"
"A--mate?" Ron said, eyes growing wide. "You mean--you've got a wife?"
Dobby nodded, ears flapping. "Her name is Tinker, sirs, and they work in the kitchens together! Dobby wishes you could meet her, but she's doing laundry for the Junior sirs and misses."
"Maybe some other time," Harry said, trying to keep a straight face and was genuinely disappointed. They then got Hermione's food and brought it up to her dormitory, where she refused to come out. After ten minutes of coaxing, they left the tray outside the door and went off to their classes, seeing that Hermione was relentless.
As soon as their classes were over, they rushed back to her dormitory and to their relief, the tray was not there anymore. At least Hermione is eating, Harry thought, slightly cheerful. His moods were lifted even further when Hermione let them in and had a coherent conversation with them, and she didn't even cry. When Ron asked her to play a game of chess, Harry held baited breath. If Hermione was slowly getting past the grief, she would be delighted to try and beat Ron.
"Well..." Hermione said hesitantly. "I guess I will." And they played. Ron beat her, like always, although not by much. Whether Hermione's skills had improved or Ron was trying to cheer her up even further by not winning by as much as he usually did, Harry doubted he would ever find out. Once the board was cleared away, there was a lull of silence.
"So, what did you do up here all day? Homework?" Ron teased gently.
Hermione smiled thinly. "Actually, I only did the ten inch essay for Snape. The rest of the time I was looking at this," she pulled out a large, leather bound book and opened it. The pictures were taken by a Muggle, none of them moved. She flipped through the pages until she came to one with a single large photo pasted in the center.
It was a girl, and she had brown hair like Hermione, although it was a totally different texture. Instead of being bushy, it was sleek and shiny, laying perfectly straight down her back. She had hazel eyes that were shining in such a way that made Harry think it was the happiest day of her life. She wasn't thin, she was built, but you couldn't call her overweight. Under the picture, there was a scrawled message, "August 10, birthday celebration".
It was Sabrina.
Hermione said softly, "It was taken just a few months ago, after her birthday party. It wasn't much, just the family and cake and presents, but she thought it was the best thing in the world. Most girls wanted glamorous 'sweet sixteen' parties, but all Sabrina wanted was a nice day at home." Her voice quavered.
"Yeah, she seemed like a great person. Like you," Ron supplied. His tone held a serious, determined note to it. "Don't worry, Hermione, we'll make You-Know-Who pay."
He blushed, having realized what he said, and dropped his gaze back to the photo album. Hermione, however, started to cry. "That's the sweetest thing--" she sobbed, throwing her arms around Ron's neck again. If Ron was red before, he was tomato-red now.
Harry glanced at his watch. "Er--it's ten o'clock now. Shouldn't we go wait for Sir--Snuffles?" he asked.
"Two hours to wait?" Hermione said teasingly. "A little anxious, are we?"
Harry grinned good naturedly. "I haven't seen him since he left from the Hospital Wing." Hermione gently closed her book and set it on the table beside her four-poster, then got up to descend to the common room.
"Hey, why aren't Patvati, Lavender, and whoever else you share this dormitory with up here yet?" Ron asked, struck by the sudden thought.
Hermione laughed. "Parvati and Lavender, inside their dormitory on a Friday night? Are you mad?"
***
At twelve midnight, the common room was clear and Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all sitting in front of the fire, not talking much. They were all anxious to see Sirius, and what news he would bring. Thankfully, everyone went to bed early that night (or in Parvati and Lavender's case, still out and wouldn't be back for hours).
"He's late," Harry said suddenly.
Ron sighed. "Harry, it's only twelve-oh-one. Relax. I swear, you're getting worse than Percy."
"No, I'm not, and now it's twelve-oh-two," Harry retorted. "What if something happened to him?" he asked, face full of worry.
"I would like to think that I was capable of taking care of myself," came a voice from beside them. They turned around and saw Sirius's head in the flames. Hermione gasped, hand flying to her mouth.
Sirius grinned. "I know I look good, but I didn't know I still had the charm to make ladies gasp!" Hermione sputtered, unable to think of an answer, while Harry chuckled and Ron sniggered. His face took on a serious look, and he asked, "How are you, Hermione?"
She avoided his eyes when she said, "Fine," and acted as though she wanted to change the subject. Sirius, receiving her silent plea, turned to Harry and Ron.
"How're you two? Not getting into too much trouble, are you?"
Ron frowned. "You're as bad as mum," he complained. He mimicked his mother's voice. "If you get into trouble this year, I will personally come up to the school to watch you day and night to make sure you don't do anything dangerous again. I swear, if you put together all the things you and Harry and Hermione have done--"
Sirius laughed, then his expression became somber once more. "Well, these are dark times. Which brings me to my question." He paused for a moment, then asked them something that Harry, Ron, and Hermione never expected.
"Will you three join the Order of the Phoenix?"
