'What I don't understand is why they all ran away.' Harry admitted over breakfast the next morning.

Morgana's tower wasn't quite large enough for the whole group to eat, so they were meeting for an early breakfast in what the elves and guardians called the upper council room. Mordred had informed them that in his time, breakfast had been a solitary affair, so there was no designated morning room, but the upper council room had large windows that overlooked a courtyard and allowed the sun to stream in and was dominated by a massive round table which worked nicely for meals.

'Because they're cowards.' Sirius scoffed.

'Because they're afraid.' Theo corrected, glancing at his very somber father, then looking down at his cereal. To her surprise, it was Thoros that continued the explanation.

'At the end of the last war, it chaos. Lots of the Dark Lord's followers had been less than subtle about their allegiance, and without the threat of retaliation, the aurors finally took action and arrested hundreds.'

Sirius snorted.

'And like a bunch of cowards, they all tried to weasel their way out of it... what was it Nott? Imperius?'

'I was never brought in.' Thoros Nott shook his head. 'I grew up with the Dark Lord, back when he was still called Tom Riddle and I was afforded a measure of inactivity as a result; there was no need to prove my loyalty. Others were arrested, particularly the younger generation, and they had to bribe, deny they were ever loyal and claim that they were imperiused. I dare say they fear his vengeance more than everyone else fears his return.'

Hermione's eyes flicked over to Harry. She hadn't discussed the matter with him in private but it couldn't be a coincidence; that Voldemort's mark had appeared in the sky so close to the prophecy predicting his rise and the dreams that Harry had been having.

He nodded slightly and launched into an explanation of his dreams. If possible, Lord Nott grew even more somber and grim as the tale continued, ad she feared that he was ready to faint by the time the Boy-Who-Lived was finished.

'There is also a prophecy.' Hermione added when he was done. 'It has happened at last, the servant and master reunited. The champion of the most ancient blood shall face him and by flesh and bone he shall rise, greater and more powerful than ever before. Death shall be mastered, the blood of the immortal shall rise and the sidhe will walk the earth once more.'

'Death shall be mastered... the immortal... that means you'll succeed in making Grindelwald young again, right?' Ginny seemed buoyed despite the grim wording. 'But its really vague, and doesn't even mention you-know-who. Ancient blood could be anyone... I mean, I think we've all got a claim to some pretty old blood here, and Grindelwald and You-Know-Who do too. Servant and master, well that could literally mean some bloke got his house elf back or that there's a new deputy head of the DMLE.'

'I don't know. I sounds a bit more ominous that that.'

'Gellert's prophecies were very different.' Hermione lamented. 'Much clearer.'

'That's because he is a much more powerful seer than that Trelawney woman.' Berg grumbled. He hadn't actually been a part of the quidditch cup celebrations but he'd stumbled through the portal in the early hours of the morning, an Arabic newspaper clutched in his hands, to check that everything was okay.

'Either way, we will prepare for the worst.' Hermione decided. 'Lord Nott, I would appreciate it if you could maintain some allegiance to the Death Eaters. I suspect we will not be able to continue the ruse for long and I certainly wouldn't ask you to put yourself in danger, but any advance warning we can get would be invaluable.'

'Your wish, Lady Gorlois.' Lord Nott somehow managed to look dignified as he bowed his head, despite the egg muffin in his hands.

'Mordred, I need to know everything about memories - your kind of memories. We need to know how to defend against him and how to contain him, if necessary.' Mordred wasn't actually physically present, but his sword was leant up against the wall and he shimmered into existence to accept her instructions.

'Theo, Harry. We're going to find that book and store it where nobody can reach it. Prophecies don't always come true, and we might be able to stop it in it's tracks if we can destroy that book.'

Theo and Harry nodded in agreement.

'What about me?' Ginny demanded.

'Keep close to your family.' Sirius suggested. 'Dumbledore had a group of vigilantes called the Order of the Phoenix. Your parents will be a part of it this time around. I can't guarantee that I'll get an invitation this time around.'

'I might.' Lady Longbottom interjected. Surprised eyes turned to the formidable matriarch. 'I am not quite so publicly associated with you, Miss Gorlois. I was asked to join last time, but preferred to remain neutral, I imagine that invitation could be accepted this time, considering what his followers did to Alice and Frank.'

'Thank you, Lady Longbottom.' Hermione eventually managed, truly grateful.

'I'll keep an ear out in Slytherin.' Daphne murmured quietly. 'People are less careful around me.'

'What about us? Is there anything we can do to help?' Berg gestured to himself and Anneken. Hermione glanced at them quickly.

'There is one other matter...' She trailed off nervously, 'have you heard of an organisation called the Order of the Triskelion?'

'It sounds familiar.' Berg pondered, glancing over at Anneken.

'Only in passing.' Anneken folded her fingers, 'I believe they try to rediscover the old ways; I don't know if they actually practice, considering so much was destroyed in the aftermath of the revolution, and those of us who knew didn't dare speak of it at the time.'

'Have they been in contact?' Berg seemed curious, as did everyone else around the table.

'They have.' Hermione admitted.

'We'll find out about them.' Anneken promised.

'I'll put together some good charms for you to learn this year too.' Berg offered, 'You're all ahead in your school work and it wouldn't hurt if you all had a bit more healing in your repertoire.'

'Oh!' Hermione remembered suddenly, 'You'll find this interesting.' She drew her wand with a flourish, summoning her patronus. The massive, grey shape erupted from the end of her wand, head brandished high above his body and ghostly steed thundering a lap around the small room before coming to a halt at Hermione's shoulder.

'A headless huntsman?' Neville squeaked.

'No...' It was Lord Nott who answered, his eyes wide with shock, pointing to what Hermione had thought was a sword at his belt. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be an actual human spine. 'The Dullahan.'

'A dullahan?' Ginny asked, nose wrinkled. 'I haven't heard on one of those.'

'Him.' The elderly lord corrected, 'He serves the Fey King. Mythology says that he uses his whip to tear the souls from those that the fey king wished dead.'

'A dark creature.' Hermione concluded. Her patronus faded away, they young witch unable to sustain it as the truth was revealed.

'Patronuses change if you love someone.' Anneken suggested brightly. Unlike the others, she didn't look grim. In fact, she looked delighted. 'Dark wizards can't cast patronuses because of their fractured soul, so we've never seen one.'

'Oh!' Daphne seemed to catch on to Anneken's suggestion and her eyes sparkled. 'You think that if Grindelwald could cast a patronus, it might be the same? You think Hermione's patronus matches Grindelwald's?'

There was a chorus of realisation and agreement around the table and the tension that had thickened the air seemed to dissolve into relieved laughter. Everyone was happy to have an explanation for the terrible omen that she'd just summoned in front of them. Hermione was less quick to dismiss it, because there were just too many questions. Patroni and animagus transformations worked on the same theory, and there was a whole list of beings that wixen couldn't become, which included every race and species of fey. That probably included the Dullahan. She couldn't be summoning a patronus, the spell was going wrong, she just didn't understand yet why or how.

Hermione was pulled out her thoughts, and the conversation around the table fell abruptly silent when there was a knock on the door. After a moment of hesitation, and a 'come in' that Lady Grindelwald would have been proud of, the door swung open to admit a very bleary looking Bulgarian Quidditch team.

'We wanted to say goodbye before you left.' Viktor Krum explained. 'Before you left for school.'

'He did,' Clara corrected. She was the only one of the team that looked like she was actually awake, and her flushed cheeks suggested that she'd been flying.

'We all did.' Vulchanov was still wearing his quidditch robes and when he picked her up and swung her around in an enthusiastic hug, he smelled like he'd been drinking too.

'We thought we'd missed you.' Krum muttered, pushing the beater aside and wrapping Hermione in his own massive arms.

'Missed us?' The witch questioned, wriggling free to check her watch. 'Oh Circe, we have to leave!'

'You'll be fine.' Anneken assured, gliding up from the table. Krum released Hermione, then moved on to shake Harry's hand.

'I vill fly vith you soon.' Krum promised the Boy-Who-Lived with a meaningful wink. Unfortunately the meaning escaped the Hogwarts students and they didn't get a chance to ask before Anneken was shepherding them out in the direction of their beds and showers.

After that, things descended into the usual inevitable chaos of departure. Harry's quidditch uniform was found in the stables, Neville's Herbology book had somehow made it's way to the sally and Cavella was experimenting with her newest discovered power and kept apparating out of her crate. Hoping that the mischievous animal would eventually use said powers to find it's way to Hogwarts, they were forced to leave without her.

Conversation on the Hogwarts express was almost entirely about the World Cup and the events of that evening. Hermione's group managed to find a large compartment for themselves and Theo jinxed the handle to stop anyone else coming in whilst the rest of them huddled of the paper to read the article on the night before.

It was written by Rita Skeeter and virtually dripped with compliments towards Hermione. It appeared the reporter was still afraid of her guardian. According to the article, she'd been a mighty guardian, like some figure of legend astride a beast that made the death eaters tremble in fear. Mordred was mentioned too, as was Harry, but the others remained unnamed.

'Fudge won't like this.' Daphne must have read ahead and she tapped a paragraph at the bottom of the spread with one manicured nail. '"The ministry refused to comment further on why a fourth year student was able to regain control when the rest of the ministry of magic and the aurors failed to protect us." I mean, he's looking bad enough with the attack without people questioning why you had to step in.'

'And why she succeeded.' Ginny pointed out, her eyes on the first year students that were trying to peek through the curtains without being too obvious. The redhead twitched her fingers and the curtains snapped closed. The first years hurried away with embarrassed giggles and Theo flicked his wand to check the privacy charms.

'This photograph though...' The pureblood heiress flicked to the next page, where there was a write up on exactly what she'd been wearing. Fortunately, Rita Skeeter had emphasised her familial connection to Viktor Krum, and had elaborated on the way she seemed to be the darling of the Bulgarian quidditch team.

'How did she know that I taught Viktor to dive faster?' Hermione demanded, ignoring the image of the Bulgarian team looming over her in the box and made her look tiny, swaddled in Viktor's cloak. There were several exclamations of confusion as everyone leaned in to read the line.

'Maybe one of those beaters told her last night?' Neville suggested dubiously, although he looked troubled.

'Fred and George are working on these toys that can be used for eavesdropping?' Ginny's suggestion earned her a raised eyebrow. 'What? They're annoying and juvenile, but their inventions are brilliant.'

'They are.' Theo begrudgingly admitted and Hermione glanced at him, then back to the youngest Weasley.

'It's true.' Ginny sounded like she couldn't decide whether to be annoyed or proud. 'They want to start a joke shop. Mum won't let them, of course, and it's not like they have the money but their stuff is brilliant.'

'Tell me more...' Hermione prompted. The look that her friends shared was suspicious, perhaps remembering the chaotic events of their second year valentines. Ginny expanded anyway.