Hermione and Ron were in the Great Hall the following morning, just sitting down to breakfast, when Harry returned.
By now, it was all over the school that Harry Potter had been whisked off mysteriously last night. Most people were convinced something had happened to him, probably at the hands of Voldemort, and that he wouldn't be seen ever again.
So his reappearance caused quite a stir.
He squeezed between chairs, fending off questions from all sides with noncommittal answers until he dropped into his seat next to Hermione. He looked utterly exhausted.
Ron opened his mouth but a kick under the table from Hermione made him change his mind. Wisely, he turned his attention back to his beans and sausage.
Hermione glared at Ron. She knew Harry would tell them in his own time. The last thing he needed was the two of them giving him an inquisition, judging by the expression on his face.
Hermione felt a flutter of fear as she surveyed him discreetly.
Unless she was mistaken, which was rare, the rumours that had been flying around Hogwarts overnight weren't entirely off the mark.
Thisdid have something to do with Voldemort.
Eventually Harry pushed away his untouched plate of egg on toast. He took his glasses off and ran a hand over his face.
Hermione's eyes caught his.
He sighed. "It's not good."
That was all he said.
Hermione looked down at her own plate, her appetite slipping away. Ron slyly slid Harry's plate towards him and deposited the toast and egg onto his own.
"Voldemort?" Hermione whispered.
"Who else?" Harry mumbled back. He looked around at the busy Gryffindor table. "I can't talk here."
Hermione nodded. "We'll talk outside, down by the lake?"
Harry yawned wearily. "Ok, but at lunchtime. I need to get some sleep more than I need breakfast. Don't think I could eat anyway, even if Iwas hungry."
He stood but before he had chance to move away from the table, a tremendous flapping noise, accompanied by a chorus of hoots hit them.
The owls delivering the morning post swept down from overhead, searching for the recipients of their mail.
Hermione's eyes opened wide, almost as wide as Ron's did. "There are so many!" she gasped. The roof of the Great Hall, which had been depicting a cloudless blue sky, was almost obscured by them.
They watched as the owls dropped letters and a few parcels into outstretched hands. It appeared every person in the room must have received mail.
Hermione looked eagerly for an owl aimed at her.
Ron's little Pigwidgeon glided down and deposited a cream envelope, with fancy gold scroll writing on the front, into Ron's cup of tea. He picked the dripping envelope out just as Pigwidgeon was bowled aside by Hedwig.
Harry's owl landed on his shoulder and hooted forlornly at him, as if picking up on his mood. The envelope she carried was also cream with gold lettering.
Hermione glanced around. Seamus, Dean, and Neville all had one too, and so did Lavender and Parvati. Looking behind her at the Ravenclaw table it seemed they all had one too.
Why was she the only one not to receive one?
She frowned. Not quite the only one, she amended as she saw an indignant looking Draco Malfoy also peering for an owl, empty handed.
She noted how Dean, Seamus, Lavender and Parvati were too busy trying not to giggle to open their envelopes. She recalled the previous evening, when she'd felt sure they were up to something.
Ron's open-mouthed expression on opening his, and his swift look at her confirmed her suspicions.
She held out her hand in a no nonsense manner. Ron knew better than to argue. He placed the contents of the envelope in her palm.
It was a matching cream card with two rings illustrated on the cover, one in silver with a majestic golden lion engraved around the band and the other in gold, with a silver serpent.
Hermione groaned.
The noise level went up as others opened their envelopes to the same.
With trepidation, she opened the card. In the same fancy gold script, it read:
It is with regret that we inform you of the intended betrothal of
Mr Draco (ferret-face) Malfoy
and
the lovely Miss Hermione Granger
The ceremony will take place when hell freezes over
(if Gryffindor House has anything to do with it)
In the meantime, join with us in hoping that Hermione gets well soon
Hermione clutched the card, her fingertips turning white. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Harry reacted first. He simply tore his up and scattered the pieces over the table in disgust before leaving.
Hermione stared at the pieces, one clearly still showing the serpent ring. Slowly, an idea began to form in her mind. She waved the card in her hand at Ron. "May I?"
Ron shrugged. "Be my guest."
She stood and sidled down between the tables to where Dean and Seamus sat, trying and failing to control their laughter. They soon sobered up, however, when they saw her steaming towards them.
Hermione in a bad temper was not something to be laughed at.
She dropped the card on the table between them and snatched out her wand. Tapping first the lion ring then Dean's left hand, followed by the serpent ring and Seamus's right hand, she muttered a lilting incantation. Both boys were horrified as their bewitched hands flew to the other boy's bewitched hand and grasped it tightly.
Hermione grinned with smug satisfaction. "Enjoy your day with each other."
Dean jumped up. Unfortunately for him Seamus didn't, and the force that held their hands together brought him back to his seat with a thump. "Hermione," he called.
Hermione ignored him as she walked away.
"We can't stay like this all day!" he tried again.
"Should have thought about that before," she said, looking back over her shoulder.
She left Ron to finish Harry's breakfast, and made for the door. Her intention was to head back to her dormitory and add a little more to her Transfiguration essay before lessons started.
But as she left the Hall, Draco Malfoy stepped in front of her. She only just avoided bumping into him.
He smiled snidely. "Don't worry, I won't bite."
Hermione glowered at him. "What do you want Malfoy?"
He peered over her shoulder into the Great Hall. Neville Longbottom was waving his wand haphazardly over Dean Thomas's and Seamus Finnigan's conjoined hands, while they tried desperately to get away from him. "I take it they were responsible for the sudden increase in owl activity this morning?"
Hermione pursed her lips impatiently. "I dealt with them."
Draco smirked down at her. "So I see."
"If that's all…" Hermione moved around him to continue up to Gryffindor tower, but he grabbed her wrist as she went past. She snatched free of his hold.
"What do you want from me Malfoy?" She regretted her choice of words the moment they left her lips.
His eyes glittered dangerously as he moved closer to her. Hermione stepped backwards involuntarily and immediately cursed herself for that little sign of uncertainty in front of the gathering crowd.
"What's the matter sweetheart?" he leered. "Would you rather I kept my distance until after we're married?"
She heard some sniggers behind her that faded as she turned around. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Ron leaving the Hall. He gave her a wink, urging her on silently.
When she turned back, Malfoy was watching her with a derogatory look on his face.
Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. She could do this.
She smiled up at him, a sugary sweet smile. "Why are you in such a hurry? Not getting frustrated surely?" She touched a hand to his cheek.
His face was a picture.Oh, if only Colin Creevey were around, she thought.
"Better set a date soon then, hadn't you?" And with that she sauntered over to join Ron, who gave her a big thumbs up.
Her composure crumbled at that precise moment. What had she done! And in front of so many! She clung to Ron's arm for fear her legs would give way, and they hastened up the stairs, giggling softly, leaving a stunned Draco Malfoy staring after them, amid an equally stunned crowd.
Harry slept until midday.
Ron and Hermione had foregone their lunch and were waiting for him down by the lake as arranged, in the spot where they always met when they wanted to talk in private. The same spot where Harry's father, James, used to meet his own friends during his time at Hogwarts.
The two watched Harry approach, slowly and with the air of someone with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Hermione patted the grass next to her and Harry sank down with an audible sigh.
For a long time no one spoke.
The birds whistled and chirruped merrily in the trees and a large cabbage white fluttered by, hotly pursued by a furiously buzzing bumblebee. Hermione swatted it away casually.
And then, in the middle of all that calm and tranquillity, Harry uttered the darkest words anyone in the wizarding community would ever hear.
"Voldemort's making his move."
Ron's face instantly paled. Hermione was all attention. "What do you mean?" she asked.
"Exactly what I said. Voldemort's making his move." Harry's calm controlled voice made the moment seem that much more surreal.
Hermione looked at Ron. Ron's mouth was hanging open, aghast.
"Making his move?" she repeated, unsure of what she was hearing.
Harry nodded resignedly. "According to Snape, Voldemort has started gathering his Death Eaters from across the continent…across the world in some cases."
Hermione's face grew progressively darker as she listened.
"And the first place he intends to target is…" Harry broke off and looked over his shoulder, at the hauntingly jagged outline of Hogwarts, silhouetted by the dazzling sun.
Hermione followed his gaze. "No…" she whispered.
Harry shrugged. "It makes sense," he said, in a matter of fact voice. "So much of Voldemort is tied to this school. To him it must symbolise everything he used to be. The Tom Riddle whose life he hated." He looked down at his hands, clenched in his lap. "And it must also symbolise why he isn't the all-conquering Voldemort that he wants to be."
Hermione swallowed. "Because of you…because you're here."
It wasn't a question, and Harry didn't answer.
Hermione looked around her, at the other students mingling around, laughing and joking with each other. And at Hagrid, striding away from them towards his hut with a bunch of wriggling carrots grasped in one hand. Tears pricked her eyes.
"What's Dumbledore going to do?" Ron's voice squeaked in a way it hadn't since it had broken three years ago. His freckles stood out against his pale face.
Harry shifted uneasily. "Well, he says that as long as we have eyes on Voldemort, and can find out what his plans are, there's no need to do anything."
"What?" Ron squeaked again. "He's just going to sit back and let it happen!"
"Of course he isn't," Hermione snapped at him. Ron's gaze turned to her. His mouth was opening and closing in a manner reminiscent of a goldfish. She studied Harry's face expectantly.
"Dumbledore believes that while Voldemort remains unaware of our insight into his plans," Harry continued, "the better the position we're in."
Ron didn't look reassured.
"He's not even going to tighten security?" Hermione asked.
Harry took a deep breath, thinking his next words through carefully. "Apparently that wouldn't make much difference."
Hermione frowned at him.
"It appears that Hogwarts isn't the invincible fortress that we all thought," he explained. "The truth is that ever since Voldemort regained his physical form, he's been capable of penetrating Hogwarts. That was why it was so imperative that the Order increased its operations. Hogwarts has been living on borrowed time."
Harry was surprised Ron didn't keel over. There was no colour in his face at all now, even his freckles had gone. His eyes were blank as they stared away into the distance.
Hermione just looked plain stunned. "So you're saying that Voldemort could have…" She faltered. "At any time?"
"Theoretically, yes."
"Why didn't he?"
Harry shook his head. "Who knows? Snape thinks it's because he wanted to test his influence again first. To see how many of his Death Eaters remained loyal to him. Not even Voldemort likes to work alone."
Hermione nodded grimly. "That would make sense."
There was another extended silence. Then Hermione whispered, "So this is it. The second war…"
Harry and Hermione's eyes met. "You know what this means, don't you?" he breathed.
Hermione's eyes were wide, and shone with unshed tears. "You…and Voldemort…will fulfil the prophecy."
Harry nodded solemnly. "And speaking of the prophecy," he continued, "it wasn't complete."
Confusion crossed Hermione's face. "I don't understand…"
"Dumbledore didn't show me the whole of his memory of what Trelawney said that day. He withheld a part of it."
"Why?"
"Because he didn't think I was ready to hear it. He showed me the entire memory last night."
"Why now? Because of Voldemort?"
"Yes."
"And…?"
Harry's green eyes bore into hers.
"I can't defeat Voldemort, not alone."