Author's Notes: There was some sort of splitting of chapters in here somewhere, but I'm just not sure where anymore. Oh well, this chapter has a totally new scene in it. Exciting! Foreshadowing again, huzzah.

***

Slowly, life began to return to normal around Hogwarts. Dumbledore's return had been met with a feast unlike anything Hogwarts had ever seen. Professor McGonagall had risen to the occasion splendidly, allowing for music, dancing, and for several parties to continue into the wee hours of the night in the common rooms. She even turned a blind eye as Paul and Roger rejoined their friends and admirers to much cheering and setting off of Filibuster's No-Heat Wet-Start Fireworks inside the Great Hall. Not a single student - Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin - was disappointed or upset that Albus Dumbledore had returned to Hogwarts. The school felt safe again. Hogwarts felt right. And to everyone's delight, especially Max Brady's, Quidditch matches were quickly re-instated.


Harry was granted a temporary leave of absence from work. Ron joked wryly that it was due to the fact that he had managed to live through the Killing Curse yet again, and that he deserved some sort of bonus for that. Harry, however, insisted that he had been working far too hard of late, and that a break was in order. He decided to remain with his two friends at Hogwarts for the remainder of his holiday from work, continuing to share Ron's bedroom. He said that he enjoyed being around Ron and Hermione, even if they were busy working most weekdays. Hermione also noticed that he enjoyed being around a certain Potions Mistress.

Professor Granger threw herself back into her work cheerfully, although she often found herself distracted by a certain red-haired Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He had a habit of showing up in the middle of her fourth-year class, when he had a spare period, to ask to borrow something trivial, or just to annoy and tease her. The students, for the most part, were oblivious to the subtle differences in the behaviours of their two teachers – most of them seemed to miss the small winks Ron gave Hermione while she was attempting to usher him out of her classroom, or the secretive smiles they shared across a hall of crowded students. They were very careful, though the moments they actually got to spend in private were few. More than once they found themselves staying up past midnight in the staff common room, waiting for the rest of the staff to retire, so that they could have a few coveted moments alone.

Hermione found herself acting differently. She smiled more often. She laughed more often. She would actually put off doing work to spend time with Ron, or Harry, or both. Kathleen Willows said that she looked "brighter"; even Diana wryly commented that she was acting "perkier" than usual. Hermione supposed that it was due to a number of things: Dumbledore having returned to full health and his position as headmaster, Harry being around, the lifting of all safety precautions and curfews, the weather slowly getting warmer and the days longer, and, of course, Ron. Hermione supposed that they were in love. And she quite liked it.


In fact, except for one bizarre, isolated incident, life was perfect.

This strange and slightly disturbing incident occurred one night in late April, around the time that Professor Granger had begun to try to coax her students into beginning revision for the upcoming June exams. Most of them ignored her, but she supposed that she had sufficiently frightened a few of her third-years into beginning their revising. However, exam revision was the last thing on Hermione's mind as she walked through the moonlit castle, her footsteps echoing in the empty corridors. A full moon was shining brightly through the windows, and Hermione was suddenly reminded of a similar night nearly a year ago, when a sleep-deprived Professor Granger had quietly made her way to the trophy room. Hermione marveled at how far she had come since then. Ron was waiting for her in the front hall – they were going to go for a walk around the grounds, and then meet up with Harry in Hogsmeade. To think that not so many months ago, the only contact Hermione had had with either of them was through reading their names on a trophy…

She suddenly felt warm thinking of Ron, and blushed, thankful that most students had already had supper and were in their common rooms, so no one was around to see her blush like a first-year with a crush. The practical side of her scolded herself for being so immature, but the side of her that urged her to hurry downstairs continued to daydream of Ron.

A flash of images suddenly interrupted her daydreams – a moonlit corridor, an ornate box, Ron riding a broom dangerously fast…

Hermione abruptly stopped walking, and the images disappeared. She blinked rapidly, staring around the empty corridor as if expecting to see Ron abruptly fly in on a broom. But only silence in the hallway greeted her. A suddenly wary Hermione took a few steps forward and then stopped again, forehead creased in confusion. She scolded herself – she had probably just fallen into a reverie whilst thinking of Ron, and her imagination had gotten carried away with itself…

"Um…excuse me, Professor…"

Hermione was jolted back to reality by a thin, red-haired student, who was patiently waiting in front of her. Hermione blinked and discovered that she had stopped right at the top of a staircase, and that she was effectively blocking the girl's way.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, quickly stepping aside to allow the student to pass. "I'm sorry, I was…"

A few torches flared to life, activated magically by their voices, and Hermione recognized the student as Rowan Richardson. "It's all right," she replied shyly. "I just…need to get to my common room."

Hermione apologized again. Rowan was preparing to pass when Hermione suddenly remembered something. "Rowan, wait."

Rowan froze, a look of apprehension on her face.

"Do you remember what it was you had to tell me?" Hermione asked gently. "A month or so ago? That night near the hospital wing?"

Rowan hesitated. After a few moments, she opened her mouth, and then closed it. "No," she said quietly, her eyes dropping to the ground.

"Are you sure?" Hermione prodded.


Rowan was beginning to look slightly frightened. "Yes," she insisted. When Hermione continued to look unconvinced, she quickly added, "It…it doesn't matter any more, anyway."

Hermione was still dubious, but she gave in with a sigh. "All right, then. Have a good night, Miss Richardson."


A grateful Rowan turned to hurry away, but then stopped and glanced at something over Hermione's shoulder. Hearing someone pounding up the stairs below her, Hermione turned around to see Ron hurrying up the stairs, his face troubled.

"There you are!" he said quickly to Hermione. He glanced at Rowan. "Hi, Row. Do you mind if I borrow Professor Granger for a moment?" he asked in a low, urgent voice. Alarmed by his tone, Hermione searched his face anxiously.

Rowan shook her head no, and Ron gave her a quick, "Thanks a lot, Row, I'll see you in class," before grabbing Hermione's arm and dragging her towards an empty classroom.

"Ron?" Hermione whispered as she was dragged along. "Ron? What is it?"

"I'll explain inside," Ron replied gravely. Feeling a cold chill of dread run up her spine, Hermione followed Ron into the classroom and quickly shut the door behind her.

She made a muffled sound of surprise as Ron slid his arm around her waist and kissed her. Though her eyes were initially wide and confused, they slowly and involuntarily shut, and her arms slowly and involuntarily began to creep around Ron's neck.

"Wait!" Hermione protested, breaking away. Ron was grinning wildly. "What's the problem?"

"Nothing. I was just getting bored down there by myself," Ron shrugged before leaning in to kiss her again.

Hermione slapped his arm. "You're horrible," she murmured against his lips.

"Yeah, I know," Ron murmured back between kisses. Hermione leaned back against the door and cupped Ron's face in her hands as they continued to kiss.

She was abruptly reminded of the strange images that had played through her mind a few moments ago – but already the memory of the incident was fading, and it seemed silly to tell Ron about something that was probably just the product of an over-active imagination.

Hermione leaned against the door, Ron's arms around her waist, and marveled at how lucky she was.

***

April showers soon gave way to May flowers, and consequently, more and more advice was given to students from an adamant Professor Granger to begin revising for exams. But most students still ignored her. Hogwarts was in its spring glory; the rolling lawns were a carpet of rich green, the sky was continuously a bright azure, and the giant squid could be seen treading lazily across the still waters of the lake. No one wanted to study.

It was at a Quidditch match on a beautiful, unusually warm day for May that the thing Hermione had been subconsciously dreading finally came to pass. It was like a slap in the face when Harry was called away.

Hermione and Ron sat atop the bleachers surrounding the enormous Quidditch pitch, Ron cheering his heart out for Gryffindor. The pair were sitting in their old spots, where they had once screamed and shouted for Harry. Though they were teachers, and were therefore supposed to be 'unbiased', no one seemed to care that Professor Granger had a scarlet rosette pinned to her robes, and that Professor Weasley was wearing all scarlet and waving a tiny Gryffindor flag.

It was a rather hopeless cause, though, Hermione noted as a sea of scarlet leapt to their feet, watching intently as Roger Ramone dove for the Snitch. An audible sigh passed through the crowd as the winged treasure fluttered away, seeming to wink out of existence again. Gryffindor was far, far behind in points compared to the rest of the teams; without their usual Seeker, they had been slaughtered this year. Everyone knew the Quidditch Cup was going to Slytherin, especially Diana Drago.

"Smash him in the face, Keels!" the Slytherin Head hollered as she climbed over a few bleachers towards the Slytherin section. "In the face! Yes!" Diana's hair caught the slight breeze and blew into her face as she hollered in victory. Jamal Keels had elbowed a Gryffindor Chaser in the face and had snatched the Quaffle away from her. He was now speeding towards the Keeper.

If there was a time where Diana Drago was not cool, calm, and collected, it was during a Quidditch match.

"Traitor," Ron mouthed to Harry, who was walking alongside Diana. Harry grinned, said something to Diana, and then separated from her to join Ron and Hermione.

"Oh, you managed to detach yourself from her?" Ron said in mock surprise as Harry clambered over to them and sat down next to Hermione. "Well done."

Hermione smiled to herself and looked around the stands, not very interested in the supposedly heated Quidditch match that was taking place. She had never been very interested in the sport, save for when Harry had played. Since Harry was not playing today (despite quite a lot of groveling on Max Brady's behalf), she found watching the occupants of the stands somewhat more interesting.

Dumbledore was high up in the bleachers with most of the other teachers, his fingers steepled in front of him as he watched the game with casual interest. Professor McGonagall was seated next to him, attempting to keep her composure and dignity, despite a few loud outbursts on her part when one of the Gryffindor Chasers was fouled twice in the same play. A few seats down from Ron, Hermione, and Harry was Oliver Wood, wistfully watching the Gryffindor players (his own career for Puddlemere United had been cut short by an unfortunate injury), and occasionally leaping to his feet to holler instructions and suggestions to the Gryffindor players.

A little farther down, closer to the Hufflepuff section (which was mostly cheering for Gryffindor) sat the Hufflepuff Head, Professor Willows, and former Hufflepuff Professor Roberts, who had only graduated from Hogwarts himself three years ago. A few feet away from him sat Rowan Richardson with her fellow Hufflepuff students. She was wistfully staring at the young, handsome Professor Roberts with a look of unabashed adoration. Hermione smiled in amusement; Arden was somewhat of a heartthrob for most of the female students, but she had never thought that Rowan Richardson was a member of his fan club as well. She noticed that there was some colour in Rowan's usually pale face, and that the thin girl had gained back some weight in the past few weeks. She looked decidedly healthier and happier. Hermione still wasn't sure what had been wrong with the seventh-year girl, but whatever it was seemed to have been resolved.

"We're going to win this one," Ron suddenly proclaimed, interrupting Hermione's thoughts. "I know it."

Hermione briefly glanced at the scoreboard. "Ron, we're losing one hundred and twenty to thirty," she pointed out, although Ron was not listening – he and Harry had started yelling for a foul with the rest of the Gryffindor fans when Slytherin's Jamie Grey had nonchalantly smacked Gryffindor's Joseph Winehart in the head with the tail end of her broom. This, however, may have had nothing to do with the game - rumour had it that Joseph had dumped Jamie for a Hufflepuff fifth-year earlier in the week.

"Oh, don't be a spoilsport, Hermione," Harry chastised her.

Hermione shrugged. "I still don't see what's so utterly captivating about this game," she said, nonchalantly nodding at Ron, who was staring at the pitch intently. He whipped his head around to stare at her.

"Are you mad, woman?" Ron exclaimed in astonishment. "What isn't utterly captivating about a Quidditch game? The pace, the excitement, the amazing goals and the narrow saves…"

"You sound like a commercial," Hermione said wryly. Ron either did not hear, or he had no clue what a commercial was. He took a deep breath.

"The fresh air! The cheers of the crowd!" He edged a bit closer to her on the hard bleacher bench. "The pleasure of the company," he murmured in her ear. Hermione smiled warmly back at him, but then quickly cleared her throat and inched away as a few curious and very giggly second-years in front of them turned around and stared.

"Ah yes!" Ron continued loudly. "The whoosh of a Bludger as it narrowly misses an unsuspecting player! The cracking of skulls as two people fly right into each other! The colours! The excitement! The owls nose-diving into the stands – "

"What?" Hermione shifted in her seat to see that an owl had just cut through the Quidditch game, nearly knocking a surprised Jamal Keels off his broom in the process. Hermione suddenly realized that the owl was heading right towards the Gryffindor stands. She glanced over to Harry. He had gone rigid.

"Watch out!" someone hollered. Hermione yelped, squeezing her eyes shut as the owl zoomed towards them. There was silence in the bleachers and on the pitch. The only sound in the stadium was a feeble hoot from the owl. Hermione ventured to open an eye – the owl was now standing on Harry's knee, holding out its leg to him. Harry hastily untied a piece of parchment from the owl's leg and read it quickly. His face turned a disturbing shade of white.

"Harry?" said Hermione uncertainly.

Harry abruptly stood up and began shuffling through the stands, motioning absently for Hermione and Ron to follow him. "Excuse me," he muttered as he shuffled through the bleachers. The curious, puzzled students didn't budge. "Excuse me…pardon me…move!"

Exchanging glances, Hermione and Ron leapt up and hurriedly followed Harry down through the stands and onto the path leading back to the castle. Although he had motioned for them to follow, Harry seemed to have forgotten them, and was walking very rapidly away.

"Harry…Harry!" Ron called, jogging to keep up with him. "Potter!" he bellowed out. Harry stopped and turned around, ashen. Far away, they could hear the sounds of the Quidditch game re-commencing.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione demanded anxiously.

"I've been called back to work," Harry said shortly. He turned to Ron. "They think they've found the fifth…" He shoved the letter from the owl into Ron's hands. Ron briefly scanned it and looked up at Harry, suddenly grim.

"You're going to go - ?"

"Right now," Harry finished gloomily.

"Do you need - ?"

"No," Harry answered, his eyes briefly flickering over to Hermione. "No, you were given an assignment to stay at Hogwarts until the end of the year."

"But there's no threat here any more," Ron pointed out, though reluctantly.

"It's still your assignment," Harry said, turning to his other best friend. "Hermione…I'm so sorry, but I have to - "

"That's all right," Hermione said miserably. "I understand."

Harry managed a half-smile and quickly gave her a hug. Taking the parchment back from Ron, he drew his wand. "Accio luggage," he said hastily. After a few seconds, a suitcase rounded the corner, hurriedly being packed by an invisible force as it hurtled down the hall and landed neatly in front of Harry. As the last of his clothes automatically folded, the suitcase slammed shut. Harry snatched it off the ground.

"Don't wait seven years to write, eh Hermione?" Harry said, but the dry humour in his voice sounded forced. Turning to Ron, he did some sort of complicated handshake with him.

"Good luck, mate," Ron said, clasping Harry's hand hard. "I'll see you soon."

Harry's eyes lingered on each of his two best friends. Ron stepped closer to Hermione and slipped his arm around her shoulder.

"Yeah…" Harry said absently, still watching them. "Oh," he added as an afterthought. "Tell Diana I said good bye, will you? Tell her I'll…be in touch."

"I'll tell Diana something, all right," Ron muttered. This put the shadow of a smile on Harry's face, and then he Disapparated.

Hermione knew better than to ask what was going on. She knew that what Harry and Ron dealt with was very serious. There would always be that potential You-Know-You and the potential Death Eaters. There was evil in the world; that was just a fact of life. And that was why Harry and Ron did what they did for a living.

Hermione heard soft footsteps behind them. She didn't have to turn around to know that a certain Potions Mistress with wind-blown hair was standing there.

"Where's Potter?" Diana asked.

Neither Ron nor Hermione answered. They were busy staring at the spot where Harry had just been. Hermione wasn't sure what was going on in Ron's mind, but something horrible had just occurred to her. It was obvious, really; she didn't know why she hadn't realized it before. But spending these last few weeks with her two best friends had made them the best weeks of her life since they were all students at Hogwarts themselves, and Hermione hadn't allowed reality a chance to set in. Of course Ron wasn't going to stay at Hogwarts forever. Sooner or later he'd disappear into thin air, too. A pop, and then he'd be gone. Ron Weasley would be out of her life again. And she was helpless to stop it.

After all, he had a job to do.

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Insert angst here


^_~