That night Harry had a dream. It was a dream reminiscent of those he had been experiencing in his fifth year. At once Harry recognized that he was not in his own body. He was using someone else's body for the time being.

Harry looked down and saw to his horror that he was once again trapped inside Voldemort's body. He knew this because of the frail, white hands that he was staring down at. At the moment Voldemort was looking down at one of his unfortunate death eaters. Harry was dreading the time when he knew he would have to hear the icy cold and high pitched voice that was Voldemort's issue from his own mouth. Just as he thought it, Harry felt his mouth opening for him. What came next was not his own voice,
"So Malfoy, I see that you have failed me. I thought there would have been no need for my own personal assistance at the Department of Mysteries. Apparently I was wrong. For this careless mistake, Malfoy, you shall pay dearly. CRUCIO!"
"AHHHHHHHH! Master, please, the pain is excruciating!"
"That's the point, you fool!" cried Harry from Voldemort's mouth. Voldemort/Harry lowered his wand and looked down upon his squirming victim,
"Malfoy! Rise! Now, we shall need to plan our next hit more carefully. Because of you, I am walking blindly without the help of using the information that the prophecy contained! Now I cannot kill the boy without wondering if I will lose power again! I need you to find this out, Malfoy. I bestow this mission to you and Bellatrix personally. Go!"
"Yes sir!"

Malfoy practically ran from the room. Voldemort remained where he stood. Harry was caught up in all of Voldemort's feelings. He was extremely angry for the most part, but there was also a tinge of anxiety. A tinge of nervousness that was nagging in the back of his head.
"That's odd," thought Harry," What could Voldemort possibly be worrying about? The Order? Or maybe it's something else entirely..."

Then Harry was sucked out of Voldemort's head as quickly as he had entered. He found himself sweating in his bed. He was completely soaked and his scar was hurting as bad as when Voldemort had possessed him for a short time a couple of weeks ago. Harry could barely stifle his cry of pain. Harry had stuffed his pillow into his mouth to keep it from being too loud. The last thing he needed was to get the Dursleys angry the day before he was leaving. If they had been disturbed, they might not have let him go just to punish him and torture his wretched soul a little bit longer.
"So," thought Harry," Voldemort wants to know the prophecy. The only person who knows it in full is Dumbledore because it's faded somewhat from my mind. I just hope he doesn't get to it..."

Harry checked the alarm clock. It was seven in the morning. Hmm, Voldemort had been kind enough to let him sleep a good while. Harry decided that Voldemort had most likely not been thinking of Harry's sleep deprivation while torturing Malfoy and got up to go downstairs.

When he got down he heard the sounds of bacon already sizzling. When he walked into the kitchen he saw Uncle Vernon sitting at the table with a newspaper in his hands. Aunt Petunia was at the stove monitoring the eggs and bacon like a hawk, but when she spotted him, Harry could've sworn that she had given him a tiny wink from behind Uncle Vernon. Dudley was oblivious to everything and was deep in a comic book. Harry was surprised to see that Dudley was even smart enough to read something as simple as a comic book; judging by his lack of effort to read any sort of reading material other than seeing how many grams of sugar resided in the piece of junk food he might have been in the middle of eating.

Harry sat down and gratefully took some eggs from Aunt Petunia and ate ravenously. His midnight wanderings had left him very hungry. Harry spent the rest of the day whiling away the time until Hermione's arrival packing and then pounding his favorite walking routes.

At around two Harry could be found sitting on his favorite swing in the park off of Mongolia Crescent. He sat swinging idly without a thought in his mind. He was very tired from his long hours of walking. Packing had only taken about an hour. Then he went off to walking all around Little Whinging. Harry decided that he should walk home to await Hermione. He was very anxious to see her. Not only was she a very good friend.
"Sure...just good friends," said the malicious voice in the back of his head.
"Stop it!" said Harry to himself. "Great, now I'm talking to myself."

Harry decided to wait for Hermione to arrive down in the den. Uncle Vernon immediately detested of this,
"What are you up to, boy?"
"Nothing, as always, Uncle," said Harry.

Then, at exactly four in the afternoon, the doorbell rang. Harry leapt to the door at once, straightened his shirt, and ran his hand hurriedly and unconsciously through his hair before opening the door.
"Harry!"

Hermione crashed into Harry and nearly knocked him off of his feet. She then grabbed him in an almost bone-crushing hug.
"It's good to see you, too, Hermione, but I don't think I can breath," gasped Harry.
"Oh, sorry Harry. It's just that I'm so glad to see you again! And so soon!"
"Come on in," said Harry spotting Mr. and Mrs. Granger behind Hermione," I'll show you guys inside."

Harry led them all inside and introduced them to a rather disgruntled Uncle Vernon, a forcedly happy Aunt Petunia, and a staring Dudley. An awkward silence fell almost immediately after the greetings were given. Finally,
"Well, I guess we'll be off then. Got your things Harry?" called Mr. Granger.
"Yes. Yes, let's be off. Well, I guess I'll see you all next summer!" said Harry.
"Urgg," grunted Uncle Vernon.
"Bye, Harry," said Aunt Petunia.
"See ya', Dudders!" said Harry with glee. He wouldn't be seeing him for another year.

After Dudley growled in response to Harry's farewell, Harry insisted that they all leave quickly. They walked out to the Granger's car and carefully laid Harry's trunk inside the trunk. Then Harry and Hermione got in the back seat with Hedwig between them. As Hermione climbed in she cast a quick, dazzling smile at Harry. Harry's stomach did a back flip, but didn't know why.
"I know why," said that stupid voice," You like her as more than a friend and you know it."

Harry just stared at Hermione. When he realized that he was staring he quickly looked away and at his shoelaces. (He had gotten this idea from Ron after seeing him do it on occasion) They began driving. Harry quickly buckled in and cast around for something to spark conversation when,
"So Harry, how have you been doing lately?' asked Mr. Granger innocently.
"Oh, I'm fine. How are things going with you? How was the ski trip?"
"Marvelous, Harry, just Marvelous!" cried Mr. Granger.
"How's the dentist business going?" asked Harry.
"It couldn't be better! So, anything new going on?" said Mr. Granger.
"Not really, no. I can't say that anything that interesting has happened over the past two weeks, but I sure am happy that you guys are having me for the summer! Thank you so much!"
"Oh, it's really no problem, dear. We love to have visitors," said Mrs. Granger.

This type of normal, boring parent talk flowed through the car on the way to the Granger's home. Hermione shot Harry a few looks on the ride there, but didn't dare speak of anything pertaining to Sirius, Voldemort, or the letter in front of her parents. Harry noticed how much prettier she seemed to look since he'd last seen her only a couple of weeks ago. He had rarely seen Hermione dressed in the Muggle fashion because they were always wearing school robes at Hogwarts. But right now she had on a white tank top and a pair of denim short shorts. Harry found that he found Hermione very attractive during the drive to the Granger's. He could hardly help to look at her less than twice a minute. Every time he saw something different to comment about to himself. He thought things like, "Hey! Is she wearing lipstick?" or," Is that a tan?" or," Wow! Her hair is o wavy!"

By the time they got to Hermione's home Harry was absolutely lost in Hermione's beauty. She had seemed to notice because she gave him little, tempting grins from time to time. She immediately offered to help Harry by carrying Hedwig while Harry got his trunk. Harry looked up to see himself facing a quaint little house that was just big enough for three people to live in if they were slightly squeezed. Harry wondered where he would be sleeping, but that was soon answered for him.

Harry and Hermione were in Hermione's room. Hermione was helping Harry unpack when she told him,
"Look, Harry, here's the deal. You're going to have sleep in my room one way or other, so you've got a choice. You can either sleep on my floor, which is rather hard, or you could share the bed with me. My parent's are fine with us sharing a bed because they know that we are both very mature teenagers who will-how do I put this?-'act responsibly'."
Harry was dumbstruck for a moment, but then found his voice and said," I think I'll take the bed. I'm not too keen on sleeping down on that hard floor, no offense to you."
Hermione giggled, but said," So let me get this straight, this guy just writes a letter to you saying that you're going to die and practically assures you that he's not Voldemort?"
"Yeah, you pretty much got the whole picture, and he said that I have anywhere from four to nine months to live. If you ask me, it sounds like a cruel joke of Malfoy's."
"It sure does, doesn't it?" said Hermione, "But what if it isn't?"
"Well, if he writes again, I think that I'll get a little worried, but for right now, I could really care less. I mean, I'm not going to let him get me down when I'm spending time with my friend, am I?"
Hermione giggled again, "Well I sure wouldn't! Come on Harry, let's go eat dinner. I'm starving,"
"Me too."

Harry and Hermione went to a nearby diner to eat because her parents were in no mood for cooking. They had had a long day that had consisted of three root canals before even going to pick up Harry. In short, they just went to sleep.

After a good meal, Harry and Hermione returned to her house and got ready for bed. Hermione undressed in her room while Harry undressed in the bathroom and brushed his teeth. When he went back into the room with the permission of Hermione (who had finished undressing) he couldn't believe what he saw. She was absolutely stunning in a night shirt and boy shorts and seemed to see the effect she was having on him. She quite simply said,
"Well, are you getting in bed or not?" and then she giggled.

Harry climbed into the bed next to her (which was another tight squeeze). They were turned on their sides towards each other so that they could talk to each other some more before falling asleep. Harry was saying stupid things, but all the while kept track of how his and Hermione's lips were getting. At one point they were barely an inch apart as Hermione told him a funny story from her childhood when she had tried to ride her bicycle through a clear, glass door.

At long last they fell asleep. It was a peaceful night with few dreams. Harry did not remember doing so, but when they woke up the next morning, Harry's arm was draped over Hermione and wrapped tightly around her waist.
"Told you so," said the voice in Harry's head while he was still unconscious.