Chapter XV: The Snitch of Voldemort
"I don't like the sound of this," Hermione mumbled, starring from the largest window in the Gryffindor Tower. Nothing but blackness and smoke clogged the stained glass. Yet the shaking and rumbling of the outside world was heard clear. Something was happening, and it did not sound good.
"Hermione," a girl's voice entered Hermione's mind.
"Yes?"
"Where's my brother?"
Hermione turned to see Ginny Weasley, a teenage girl whom she had known for years. Her now short orange hair bobbed around her face, giving it a much more oval appearance. Her matching freckles hid the dozens of blemishes along with a dash of concealer. Ginny's eyelids were now encased in a blue shadow, a shimmery sight reminding Hermione that Ginny was not a little girl but a young lady.
"Ron isn't here anymore," Hermione said slowly. "I'm sure he'll return soon. What do you need him for?"
Ginny shrugged. "I don't know." She paused and tried to peek at the smoke covered window. "What the Hell is going on?"
"Nothing you should be concerned with, Ginny," Hermione replied and attempted to shove Ginny from out of the window's view; but she was not able to push her aside long enough, and Ginny's mouth opened wide, ogling at the massive smoke and dirt being lit every few seconds by flashes of light in the darkness.
"Ah!" Ginny screeched alerting each student who had managed to fall asleep to awake. Ginny then stumbled back a bit, letting the stone wall catch her before she slumped over. Hermione rushed over, trying ever so hard to block the window while not attracting attention to herself—it was impossible.
"Ginny, what's wrong? Gryffindors! Go back to bed!" Hermione hissed, her mood fouling every second she felt the presence of disaster surrounding her.
"Can't you see? Can't you feel the pain?"
"Whose pain?"
"Their pain!" Ginny pointed to the window, still clogged in black smoke.
"Did you see something out there?" Hermione asked, unable to get any clear view of what was happening outside of Hogwarts.
Ginny's eyes widened, their pale blue glowing into a gray mist. "How could you not? Those wretched beasts, destroying everything good—I can feel their pain, Hermione, and it's awfully dreadful."
"Whose pain?" Hermione asked once more.
"Voldemort is here," Ginny said in a daze.
Hermione flinched and immediately, as if a compulsive response, cupped her hand over Ginny's mouth. She then crawled in closer, lowering herself to Ginny's height. She then said a whispered voice,
"What do you mean, Ginny? Don't be afraid to tell me."
Her eyes still fixated on the window and not once did they glance over at Hermione's face. The delicate teen body now trembled in an upheaval of emotion, crashing down in spasms of twitching and shaking. Her right eye now twitched, her eyelashes so brittle that they snapped with every flutter of the eye.
"I can feel him again… He is so close," Ginny finally said and then became motionless. Her twitching was replaced by the complete collapse of her body. Her lids fell and body inched downward as if her bones had disappeared.
Hermione shuddered and then realized that she was not alone. Dozens of Gryffindor students huddled about her, gawking at the scene they had just witnessed. Many of them had never even heard someone else mutter the name 'Voldemort'. Bunches of them studied the dark window, focusing on the flashes of light in hopes of seeing the 'wretched beasts' that Ginny spoke about.
"Miss Prefect, why isn't she moving?" a first year girl named Maybelle Radbury asked.
But Hermione froze. She could not possibly explain to the awing eyes of young students who Voldemort was and how he nearly killed Ginny a few years past. Perhaps he still had some hold on Ginny that she could not get rid of. Whatever connection Ginny had to Voldemort now seemed to grasp her by the neck and choke her.
"She's dead," a boy stated glaring at Ginny with cold eyes.
"No, she isn't, Daniel!" the boy's sister yelled. Both were first years, Mandy and Daniel, twins but very easily separated by gender. The two now quarreled amongst themselves, trying to decide if Ginny had died or was merely in some hypnotic state.
"Shut up!" Hermione screamed, her head rising above the students. Her mouth opened wide and she screamed once more. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up, now!"
Silence. Immediately, the voices stopped and an eerie quietness took over, much worse than bickering before. Clearly now, thunder could be heard from outside the window. It was nearly impossible not to look at it. And as the Gryffindors watched, they witnessed a bright flash of yellow and orange and enormous shadows bouncing off the light. The ogre-like tinges were plainly seen.
"What are they?" Maybelle asked with her voice much more high but wavering.
"Giants," Daniel snubbed.
"What are they doing at Hogwarts, Miss Prefect?" one asked.
"Is everything going to be all right?" another one spoke.
"Is she dead?" and yet another one asked.
Hermione cupped her hands over her head and wiped the sweat that trickled from out the opened pores. Lids surrounding her eyes puffed and reddened, her stress heightened-normally, Hermione liked the stress, she liked the added pressure to make her do more, but this was not type she yearned for, not at all.
"Miss Prefect?"
"Miss Prefect?"
"No! Everything is not going to be all right!" Hermione shouted. "And nothing is going to be all right unless we know what is happened and what we can do about it!"
"Where are you going?" Maybelle asked.
Hermione had turned her back to the group and was staring out the window as she had before. Ginny's body was still slumped over, unmoving, facing the window as well. Hermione's lips pressed against the glass, the soft paleness left a white tint, a print of her lips puckered nicely. And after Hermione stepped back, she studied it and smiled.
"I remember when I thought all hope was lost," Hermione began as she turned slightly to face the Gryffindors, "and I remember when young students like you were petrified by a serpent. Those of you who unfortunately were there at the time, you remember this as well. I myself was petrified. But I knew, somewhere in my mind, I knew that everything would all right."
"So, everything will be okay again?"
"No," Hermione surprisingly said. "I don't feel that way anymore. But I do know that sitting up in our rooms and pretending that nothing is happening will not do us any good. I may be expelled for this, but I cannot sit here," she paused, a tear piercing her cheek, "I cannot sit here and watch Ginny deteriorate. I cannot sit here and listen to her say that Voldemort has returned. I cannot sit here, I cannot," Hermione started to hyperventilate. Her breaths became short, uneven gasps.
"Miss Prefect!" Maybelle yelled and rushed to Hermione's side. She clutched her arm, pretending her from falling over. "What are we going to do?"
Hermione still wheezed for air, trying to clam herself enough to let in the oxygen needed to breathe. Slowly, her pants started to become rhythmic and completely disappeared. Her breathing returned to as normal as they would get. She turned to Maybelle and smiled, one of her eyes darting over to Ginny's body that began to move slightly, revealing that she was not dead.
"Gryffindors," Hermione began, steadying her voice. "Gather your wands and robes. We are leaving the Tower."
Immediately, herds of students rushed out of the Common Room and up the spiraling staircases to their separates wings and bedrooms. A few stayed behind, still ogling at the window and creatures they might face. Daniel O'Grady stayed behind, staring straight into Hermione's face.
"Don't you have a wand?" she asked.
"Are we going to die?"
"Who said that?"
"I've heard about Voldemort. If he's here, we're going to die."
"You listen to me," Hermione growled, her hands gripped Daniel's shoulders tightly. "I have seen Him, and I have seen what He can do. I have seen friends die, and I know what death is. We will die one day, as every one does. It might be today, I do not know… But you must trust me."
The boy gulped, unknowing what Hermione had gone through. "I don't know how to use my wand," he now whispered.
"It's okay. I will help you or find an older student to guide you."
"Thanks, Miss Prefect."
"Hermione."
"Thanks, Miss Hermione."
As Hermione stood, watching the boy gather his wand and robe, she thought about his words. He did not know how to even use simple magic. How were the first years supposed to defend themselves? Even if the older students helped, they could not defend the little ones all the time. But if they stayed in the Tower, they could die anyway from whatever terrors blazed outside and even inside Hogwarts. Her mind had already made its choice. She now only had to convince herself of that.