Hermione found out where Harry had been the following morning: flying a car.
"'Flying Ford Anglia Mystifies Muggles'," Draco Malfoy read aloud, his voice pitched to carry. "Two muggles in London were convinced they saw an old car flying over the post office… another one saw the car over Norfolk…" He continued scanning the article in the Evening Prophet, and Hermione looked at the moving photo on the front of the car – a car she had been in not all that long ago. "I heard from Snape that they crashed the car into the Whomping Willow on the grounds, and the car somehow drove itself into the Forbidden Forest afterwards."
"You told us about that car, Hermione," Tracey said, her voice awestruck. "Potter and Weasley flew a car here. I can't believe it."
"How are they not expelled?" Draco moaned.
Hermione didn't wait; as soon as she saw Harry come in, she went over to the Gryffindor table, joining him and Neville. Harry winced as he saw her coming.
"What," she said, her voice dangerously low, "happened?"
Harry looked uneasy, but he launched into his story. Apparently, the barrier at Platform 9¾ had sealed itself off, and he and Ron couldn't get through. They realized that they had missed the train, and they didn't want to get in trouble for not making it to school on time, so they had decided to fly the car.
"You didn't want to get in trouble," Hermione said slowly, incredulous, "so you instead decided to illegally fly a car?"
"It sounds so much worse when you phrase it like that…" Harry winced. "…but yeah, essentially."
Ron entered the Great Hall, looking sloppy and annoyed. He took a look at Hermione, and his face darkened.
"Don't start," he warned her. "We got read the riot act by Snape, McGonagall, and Dumbledore. And this was after the damned tree tried to pulverize us. I don't want to hear it again."
Hermione scoffed and folded her arms, and Ron ignored her as he set about filling a plate.
"I… I shouldn't have," Harry admitted. "I wasn't thinking. I didn't think to send Hedwig for help. Ron had the idea about the car, and he said that even underage wizards are allowed to use magic if it's a real emergency. And after he said it, it became really exciting, you know?"
"It was really cool," Neville admitted. "Everyone in Gryffindor applauded when they finally came in."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Gryffindor would."
"That's not it, though," Harry said, fidgeting with his hands. "I owe you an apology. I made you worry. I didn't realize that me not being on the train would cause you to panic."
Hermione flinched. "I wouldn't say panic…"
"Snape was really mad," Harry continued, his voice low. "He went on about how we flouted the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry, but he also went on about how arrogant and callous we were, and how we were shameful friends. That we'd made you so frantic and worried, all because we couldn't be bothered to send an owl."
Hermione bit her lip. "…Snape said that?"
"I mean, you were panicking a bit, Hermione," Neville pointed out. "You worked yourself up into quite a state, thinking they got kidnapped."
Harry winced. "You thought we got kidnapped?"
"I didn't know what happened," Hermione told him. She looked at him, her honey eyes meeting his green. "Harry, I was worried."
Harry sounded miserable. "I know. I'm sorry."
Hermione gave him a steady look.
"The next time there is a problem," she told him, "do not go to Ron Weasley for advice, alright? Promise me."
Harry winced, but he offered her a tentative grin.
"I promise," he vowed. "Never again shall I blindly follow Ron. Instead, I will ask myself 'what would Hermione do?' and act accordingly, and do the smart Hermione-like thing instead."
Her lips twitched in amusement despite herself.
"Or come ask me yourself," Hermione huffed.
Harry smiled. "Or that."
There was a rustle of noise, and Hermione looked up to see that the mail was arriving, owls pouring into the Great Hall. She quickly went back over to the Slytherin table; in her experience, being at the same table as the Weasley twins when they were getting mail was a bad idea for your health. She slid in next to Blaise, who'd just arrived, and she snagged an apple from a basket.
"So?" Draco drawled. "What did Potter have to say?"
He gave Hermione an expectant look, and Hermione sniffed.
"That they flew the car to school," she said. "That Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall, and the Headmaster all yelled at them."
"They didn't even get points off," Theo said, grumpy. "That's blatant favoritism, there."
"Well, technically, the semester hadn't started, and it was for something that occurred outside of school…" Hermione said, trailing off. Theo gave her a look, raising an eyebrow, and Hermione threw her hands up in exasperation. "Okay, yes. It's blatant favoritism of the Gryffindors. But did you really expect any different?"
"I expected them to get expelled," Draco groused. "Why aren't you more angry about this, Granger? You were more anxious than anyone. You look like you were up all night worrying."
"Thanks, Draco," Hermione snapped. She gently prodded the dark circles underneath her eyes. "Way to make a girl feel good."
"I didn't mean it like that," Draco said hastily. "Just that, you know… you look like you were up late, with your skin all pale…"
Hermione glared at him, and Theo reached over to pat Draco on the back condescendingly.
"Quit while you're ahead, mate," he advised.
In truth, Hermione knew she looked exhausted, and it was because she was. It hadn't been from being up all night worrying about Harry, though – after Luna had told her Snape was yelling at him, Hermione had known that Harry had somehow gotten to school okay.
Hermione had been up all night reading about Occlumency.
Theo's hushed conversation with her before bed about Legilimency had prompted a panic in Hermione – a real panic, this time. If Dumbledore could read minds, and if he looked into hers… well, Hermione suspected he'd be none too pleased to realize she'd made a 'deal' of sorts with the Dark Lord. Even if it was just for books.
Said books had been an immense help; Hermione had dived into the trunk of Voldemort's books as soon as she'd gotten back to her dormitory, carelessly bleeding onto it to snap the lock open and ignoring the wound in her hand in favor of searching through his things. She'd found two books: Invading the Mind, by Oberon Lestrange, and Shielding Your Secrets, by Persephone Gaunt. She'd grabbed them both, disguised them with muggle book covers, and read Shielding Your Secrets until dawn.
The book was extremely alarming, saying what all a Legilimens could do and how they could read your mind. Hermione had been too tired and hadn't had any time to start practicing the Occlumency exercises the book recommended. Her current strategy was to look at the floor when the Headmaster was around and to never meet his eyes.
A loud bellowing abruptly interrupted Hermione's thoughts.
"—STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE– "
"What is that?" Hermione asked, clamping her hands over her ears as the yelling continued. "Is that envelope yelling?"
"A Howler," Blaise told her. He looked amused. "Seems Mrs. Weasley was none too pleased with her son's antics yesterday."
"—LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED—"
Hermione found herself gratified to see that Ron's face was burning bright red in embarrassment, and even Harry looked deeply ashamed.
"—ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED – YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT, AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."
Hermione watched as the red envelope promptly burst into flames. Ron and Harry both looked stunned, and gradually, sound began to return to the Great Hall, a few people laughing before conversation resumed again.
"Serves them right," Draco said, looking darkly pleased.
"Kind of cruel, though," Blaise commented, serving himself porridge. "To be humiliated publicly by your mum."
There was a silence at that.
"Don't care," Draco said finally. "They deserved it."
They all continued eating, only to have Theo suddenly sit up in his seat.
"Hey," he said, twisting his head. "Where'd Crabbe and Goyle get off to?"
Hermione looked around. Daphne was there, next to Theo, and Tracey and Millie and Blaise were by her. Draco was craning his neck, searching, and Pansy was further down the table talking to the Carrow girls. The last two of their class were nowhere in sight.
"They're not here," Daphne said, her tone one of wonder. "The Seer was right."
Draco's head whipped around. "The Seer?"
"Luna Lovegood," Daphne told him. "Goyle wanted to know what would be for breakfast, and she told him he wouldn't make it there. Remember?"
An odd, unsettled expression settled on Draco's face.
"I'm sure it's just a coincidence," he said, but his voice betrayed his true thoughts.
"It's not. She knew Pansy had talked to her grandmother about the troll blood," Tracey said, pointing her fork for emphasis. "Lovegood is a Seer. We'd do best to get on her good side, now."
Hermione took a moment to privately be amused that everyone still thought Pansy had troll blood. She was sure that Pansy had confronted her grandmother about it, and of course her grandmother would deny it – just like any person with troll blood would.
The fact that a person without troll blood would also deny it probably didn't occur to Pansy.
"Hermione's already friends with her," Blaise said, smirking. "I think we've got an in."
Draco looked uncertain, before he huffed, scowling.
"Fine," he said. "We align ourselves with the Lovegood girl. But we tell no one why – just that she's under our protection."
"Fine by me," Hermione said cheerily. "I'm sure it'll be fine with her."
Draco gave Hermione a look, but Hermione just smirked at him, her eyes teasing, until his scowl lessened into a smirk of his own.
"At least we'll know all the interesting news first, with a seer for a friend," he said. "Could come in handy, help us make difficult choices."
Hermione thought back to her own prophecy, and how it had shaped everything she'd done.
"You have no idea."