Dudley slapped the book shut, trapping the letter inside.

"Chill, Dud, I'm not taking your book away from you," said Piers, raising his arms in an exaggerated disarming gesture. He walked across Dudley's bed to pull some of his own books from his bag thrown haphazardly on top of his bed.

As if you could, thought Dudley, but just about managed to bite back the words. The constant tension in the dorm room was beginning to grate on his nerves.

"Matter of fact, I'm going to do some studying on my own. I do do that sometimes, too," Piers went on as he settled in front of his desk.

Dudley was actually re-reading Harry's letter – something he could not possibly mention. He would have loved to point out to Piers that he was not, in fact, studying. It was true that Dudley had done more school work since the beginning of the new term – mostly due to spending more time with Artie. But Piers, who was not at all a bad student, had never thought of studying as uncool until he and Dudley had a falling out. Since then – or rather, since their return to Smeltings after the summer holidays – it had become one of his favourite taunts.

Dudley glared at Piers before going back to the letter. He was contemplating what sort of reply to send. Harry had written him about hearing a murderous voice during detention at Hogwarts no one else but him could hear. Together with Dobby's warning, this left Dudley with a rather uncomfortable feeling. Harry's tone was cheerful, as he made fun of his new teacher and talked about his friend's upcoming birthday. He did not sound at all worried. But then again, Dudley thought, he never did. The year before, all of Harry's adventures had sounded so exciting. And they still did, but…

Dudley looked up again. It did not look like Piers would leave any time soon, and there was no way Dudley could risk writing a letter to Harry with him only a few feet away. With a sigh, he pulled out his actual homework and began working.

Every now and then, Piers would look up, as if about to say something, but Dudley had learned his lesson. He did his best to ignore the other boy, who was only looking for an opportunity to start another argument.

Another boy from their year poked his head into their room. "You coming, then?" he asked shortly.

Dudley looked up, surprised at the question, but before he could say anything, he saw Piers get up and walk toward the door.

"Right, let's go, do some sports." He waved his hands in vaguely punching motions. "Or all this studying'll turn me into a nerd!" The boys laughed as they left.

Dudley hastily pulled out Harry's letter to begin writing his reply. But one part of his mind was still occupied by what had happened. He told himself Piers was an idiot and not worth a second thought, but they had been friends for a long time, before their falling out. Had Piers found new friends? What had he been talking about? Had he joined a sports club? Were they playing games he would have enjoyed not too long ago?

Artie found him in a foul mood not long after that. Dudley first rudely waved off the other boy's offer to do homework together, and then agreed resignedly. Studying really was not so bad. He remembered how he had come to that realisation during his visit to Artie's house. After meeting Harry and Hermione, Artie's parents had begun regarding him a lot better than before. They had talked to him in serious voices, with carefully chosen words.

'It must have been so tough, growing up with a gifted cousin. No wonder you're so used to copying others' homework. And I don't think your parents' way of, er, helping you, did you any favours, to be honest. It is truly admirable how well you two get along, despite… everything.'

He had been told such, and more, and the honest flattery had felt so good that Dudley had almost ignored the little voice in the back of his mind, reminding him how it was actually all to Harry's merit. So when they had begun telling him that now he had the opportunity to shine on his own, away from Harry's shadow, at his new school, he had begun to believe them. Suddenly doing well at school no longer sounded like an embarrassing thought.

This of course did not mean that he enjoyed studying any more than he ever had, even with a friend. Artie was fun to be around sometimes, but Dudley just was not the sort of boy who enjoyed reading and studying and even computer games with no other way to pass the time.

"What is it?" Artie asked a short time later, noticing Dudley's dark mood. "Was it Piers again?"

That had not been a difficult guess, but Dudley had to bite back a sharp retort. "Not really," he answered evasively. "I was just wondering about sports clubs."

"Sports clubs? Not really my thing," Artie laughed self-consciously.

"Well, I think I might join one, if they have something that I like. Something violent, something that'll make me stronger."

"What, like boxing?" asked Artie.

"Do we have boxing at Smeltings?"

Artie shrugged. "I think so, yes. It's fairly traditional, isn't it?"

Dudley, who had felt like punching someone for far too long, suddenly felt like he had seen the light at the end of a tunnel. "Yeah. Yeah, that's exactly what I'm going to do."

~HP~

"Right, then. Don't yeh go wanderin' off before I return. Best be goin', then. Can' have you lot here after it gets dark. I'll be back in jus' a couple of hours. Yeh have fun 'til then," said Hagrid.

It was a good thing that September 19th fell on the next Saturday. It meant that they had enough time to follow Hagrid to a relatively safe clearing in the Forbidden Forest, while he was running some errands. They were breaking at least one rule, but as long as Hagrid was all right with it, the boys, at least, did not worry too much.

"We'll stay right where we are," said Hermione, her voice a few octaves higher than normal and stiff. She still was not comfortable with the fact that the Forbidden Forest was, in fact, forbidden to students.

After Hagrid had disappeared between the trees, Harry went over to the small pile of the things they had brought along with them. There was his broom, together with two more school brooms, a large patchwork bag that belonged to Hagrid, and a couple smaller ones that contained the wrapped presents.

"Relax, Hermione. Everything will be fine," said Harry. "Come on, Ron. Give me a hand."

He opened the bag Hagrid had left with them, and began pulling out a large yellow blanket. Next came the flask with the hot tea in it, followed by mugs and plates. Hagrid had also insisted to leave them with some of his rock biscuits, but Harry chose to leave them in the bag for now. Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione carried over the presents they had brought with them to the blanket.

"All right, are we all set, then?" said Harry.

"I think so, yeah," said Ron, as he plopped down on the blanket.

His friends sat down as well.

"Right, then. Happy thirteenth birthday, Hermione," said Harry.

Ron said so as well, while giving her his present – delivered from the Burrow that morning by Errol. It contained a birthday cake – small and a little shaken up from the owl delivery, but still delicious-looking. Hermione produced a packet of sugar-free biscuits sent to her by her parents. They all had a laugh at those as they devoured their very much sugary picnic.

"So, who wants to go flying?" asked Ron as soon as the cake was finished.

"Give me a moment, I'm stuffed." Harry leaned back, while pushing his plate away. Ron really was a bottomless pit. He had eaten the most, yet he did not seem weighed down.

"We'll go in a moment, just after I've had a look at the rest of my presents," said Hermione. She did not usually enjoy flying, but seeing as the boys had organised the whole thing for her, she was intending to have as much fun as she could.

Hermione went back to the package and accompanying letter her parents had sent her. She moved on quickly from the gift voucher, which the letter told her came from her grandparents. The final item in the package was, unsurprisingly, a book, titled Chosen Future: How your wand can predict the course of your magical growth.

"Oh, wow. They remembered I wanted to know about wands. I didn't even say much about it, but they went and got me a book from the magical world," Hermione gushed. "Oh, Mum says Mrs. Weasley helped them order it," she said, after looking over her letter. "And she even suggested the title. It's one of those she read when buying wands for your oldest brothers – Is that true, Ron?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders.

Meanwhile, Harry regarded the colourful book with a sinking heart, suddenly not liking his idea for Hermione's present after all…

"Actual wandlore is supposed to be far too advanced, apparently. No wonder I couldn't find anything in the library…" Hermione went on, oblivious to Harry becoming more and more disheartened with each word.

"Yeah, I guess I should have, maybe, thought of that," he said self-consciously. "I had the same idea, but…" He handed her a book as well, still wrapped in the postal package.

"Oh, thank you, Harry…" began Hermione, while she ripped the packaging off her present.

It was a dark, leather-bound tome, simply titled Wandlore. As she leafed through it, Harry could see that instead of moving illustrations, the pages were filled with complicated-looking formulas and diagrams – far too advanced for even the most studious second-year. The way she smiled happily when she thanked him, she did not seem to mind that she probably would not be able to understand much of anything from the book. Harry supposed it was the thought that counted, after all.

They went flying after that. Harry noticed Ron eyeing his Nimbus hopefully and let him have it, while he and Hermione took the school brooms.

"Let's see if we can see Hogwarts from here," said Ron, as he flew higher.

They were close enough to the castle that seeing it was not much of a problem, once they had flown high enough to look over the top of the trees. Hermione, who had only passed the flying class at the very end of the previous year, still was not comfortable being that high up in the air. She soon returned closer to the ground and flew in slow circles around the clearing. Harry flew by every now and then to give her some instructions.

Hermione discovered that away from an audience – Harry and Ron did not count – she could enjoy a slow flight after all. Her friends noticed as well. Ron let her have the Nimbus – which did feel noticeably more comfortable, as it did not make any unpredictable sideways lurches – and the boys flew with her, giving her advice every now and then, until she noticed her confidence – and skill – in flying improving.

Hermione was the first to tire of flying despite the unexpected fun it had been. She handed over the Nimbus to Harry and left the boys to their more daring flying. Instead, she went back to the books she had received as presents. Trust Harry to be thoughtful and thoughtless at the same time, she mused fondly, leafing through the book he had given her. Well, maybe in a few years she would be able to understand some of it. Meanwhile, she began reading the book her parents had sent her.

The boys returned a good half hour later, flushed and energised.

"Hagrid hasn't returned already, has he?" asked Ron as they sat down next to Hermione.

"No, is it time already?" Hermione checked her watch, surprised to see that the boys were right. Hagrid was due any moment. She closed the book she had been reading.

"You actually trying to read that?" Harry looked doubtfully at the now closed cover of Wandlore.

"It's… Well, it is a bit—" Hermione laughed at her friend's disbelieving look. "All right, far too advanced for me—"

"I know. That was my silly mistake. You don't have to try to read it anyway, or—"

"No, that's not – I just wanted to look up something I read in the other book—" She opened Chosen Future right at the beginning, to a chapter called Attraction, Affinity and Allegiance. "Here, this sounds very much like what Ollivander was saying—"

"Yeah, he said a number of things," said Ron, remembering the uncomfortable discussion he had had with the wandmaker a few weeks ago. "What are you trying to find out, anyway?"

"That thing he said about our wands, and wand cores, and the tree calendar—"

"So? A bit of coincidence—"

"Maybe, but it could be interesting. It says here that before wands were invented, witches and wizards used to cast spells in groups. They weren't any better than us at controlling their magic without a wand, but if they could find people they had magical affinity with, spells worked a lot better—"

"And if they didn't have affinity?" asked Harry.

"Then… Their magic would clash and they'd have nasty accidents, I think."

"Yeah, sounds fun. But I think I prefer wands," said Ron.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "The thing is, the affinity between us and our wands is not that different. It's just that wands – because they're just things – can't really work against you and you can win their allegiance. But I still don't understand what allegiance is—"

"So what happens if we cast a spell together, then?" Harry looked around. "Say, if we tried to move the mug back in the bag—"

"Which one?" asked Ron.

"The one I used. Let's try Wingardium Leviosa—"

"What? Wait, what are you doing—" Hermione began to protest.

She was too late, the boys had already cast the spell, but she need not have worried. The spell was a bit wobbly, as the boys had to settle on a single direction, but other than that, nothing out of the ordinary happened.

"Why isn't it more powerful?" asked Harry, disappointed by the lack of excitement.

Ron scratched his head. "Don't know. It's not supposed to, I guess, or everyone would be casting spells together, wouldn't they?"

"Here, let me try as well," said Hermione.

She cast spells with both boys as they continued to pack up, with similar results. The combined spells were all a bit wonky, but seemed the more fun because of that. It barely seemed like work, to pack everything up.

"Let's do the blanket all together," suggested Harry, when they had reached the last item.

This time, something a little unusual did happen. The spell did not wobble. It was, in fact, even more stable than when cast separately. But when Hermione pointed that out excitedly, itching to pull her books out again, the boys merely shrugged, still unimpressed.

"Oh, I see Hagrid over there," said Ron, when she still wanted to talk about it.

"Are yeh ready ter go already?" Hagrid asked them when he saw the packed bags and broomsticks, all waiting to be taken back. "Yeh didn' get bored, did yeh?"

They all assured him that they had had a great time as they followed him back to the castle.

~HP~

That evening, back in the common room, Hermione was still reading her wandlore books while the boys were poring over Harry's letters from Dudley and Sirius. Careful of the students around them, they kept their voices low, shielding the letters between their lowered heads and raised arms – completely unaware how suspicious they looked.

"Even Dudders thinks the voice I heard must be connected to whatever danger is supposed to be at Hogwarts this year," said Harry, rehashing the same arguments they had discussed the past few days.

"But that was a good point Sirius made," said Ron. "You're the only one Dobby warned, and you're the only one who heard that voice. I mean, yeah, Lockhart's an idiot, but he was in the same room when you heard it—"

"Lockhart kept prattling on about his fans during my whole detention. He wouldn't have heard a thing over the sound of his own voice!" said Harry, a little louder than intended.

The argument was going nowhere. He looked up, shooting frustrated looks at Hermione, debating whether he should draw even more attention to them and call her over. Solving mysteries without her logical arguments was needlessly frustrating.

While he gestured to Hermione to come over, Harry noticed Neville watching them with rapt interest. Caught staring, the boy blushed and looked down, to what appeared to be a letter of his own. Ron noticed as well and exchanged looks with Harry, both silently debating how to include Hermione in their discussion without drawing even more attention. Harry was about to suggest maybe going somewhere else, when the boys noticed that Hermione was not walking towards their armchairs. Rather, she had walked over to Neville.

"Neville, I was wondering, have you managed to do the engorgement charm? I've been going over my notes and I think I'm missing something," she said, much to the astonishment of her friends, who knew perfectly well that she had no problems with it.

Neville, if possible, looked even more surprised. He may not have been the cleverest student in his year (like Hermione), but he was not nearly as stupid as some people (like Snape) thought him to be. Hermione asking him, of all people, about something she had trouble understanding, was enough to set off his alarm bells.

"A little," he said very cautiously. "But I'm sure you're much better at it."

"Well, maybe, I don't know," Hermione waved off the objection. "I just wanted to see a comparison—" She noticed Neville's eyes slipping over to where Harry and Ron were sitting, and paying close attention to Hermione's bizarre behaviour. "Oh, they won't do. We learned together, so we all cast it the same way."

"All right," Neville agreed reluctantly.

Hermione put a little glass bead on the table. "Here, try on this."

Neville cast the charm carefully. The bead grew larger, but not by much, and even from the distance, Harry could see that it was no longer perfectly spherical. Still, not a bad effort for Neville.

Hermione regarded the bead, as if it held untold secrets. "Maybe one more time? And I'll cast as well, this time."

Harry and Ron looked at each other and rolled their eyes at her antics, finally catching on what she was up to.

Neville did not argue. He just wanted to be done with it, because Hermione was beginning to make him nervous. "Engorgio," he said once again, while Hermione did the same. The spells had barely touched the glass bead, when it exploded, shattering in thousands of sharp little pieces. Harry and Ron got up, alarmed.

"Careful!" shouted one of the prefects. She rushed over to clean up the shards, berating them all the while.

"I – I – I'm sorry," said Neville, "I don't even know what I did wrong. You should probably ask someone else…" he added softly.

But Hermione had a mad glint in her eyes. She was like a dog with a bone – she needed to understand. "Nonsense, Neville. We'll just be more careful. Here—" She produced another glass bead. "Let's try very slowly this time."

"Hermione, I don't think that's such a great idea—" began Neville.

"Oh, nonsense, you did well enough on your own," said Harry. He and Ron had walked over to them, now finally interested in Hermione's theories.

"Yeah, same thing happened to me the other day," Ron lied shamelessly.

Neville began to feel like he was missing something, but then again, these were his friends, and they were usually trustworthy… "Right, carefully, then," he said doubtfully.

"Here, let me try as well," said Harry.

This combination was not as violent, but not much of anything happened. The bead barely grew in size, and collapsed back to its original size as soon as they stopped casting.

"Now me," said Ron and reached for his wand.

This gave Neville pause. "What are you trying to do?" he asked suspiciously. "See how to cast together, or…" Neville really was smarter than some people gave him credit for.

The three friends exchanged looks, finally nodding resignedly.

"Something like that, yes," said Hermione. "So if you don't mind—" She reached for her wand again.

"Oh, all right, then," said Neville. He shrugged. Whatever those three were up to was bound to be interesting.

"No, let me try now," Ron interrupted Hermione.

"Fine." She stepped out of the way a little ungracefully. "By the way, Neville, what's your wand made of?"

"Er, apple and dragon heartstring. Why?"

"Oh, just curious," replied Hermione, but Harry could tell she was itching to look it up.

"It belonged to my dad," Neville added softly, looking down at it.

"How did you know it chose you?"

Neville gave her an uncomprehending look.

"Never mind."

"Yeah, never mind that," said Ron. "Let's try this."

Neville nodded and they cast the charm. Surprisingly, it worked much better than before. This time, the charm worked and held, and the resulting bead looked only a little lumpier than when Neville had done the charm on his own.

Hermione was about to go into full research mode, when they heard a gasp behind them. Ginny was staring at them.

"Ron, what happened to your wand?" she asked, surprised enough that she managed to speak in Harry's presence.

"What?" sad Ron, at first too confused to realise what she meant.

"Your wand – or, rather, not your wand. Whose is it? And where's yours?"

"What do you mean?" asked Neville. "Of course that's his wand!"

Hermione, who knew better, took charge. "Oh, yeah, I wanted to tell you about that. Actually, I wanted to show you something. It'll just take a minute." With that, she steered Ginny towards the entrance of the common room. The boys followed her, leaving behind a very confused Neville.

Ginny stopped walking and crossed her arms as soon as they were outside. "So, what…" she began suspiciously, but her voice trailed off as soon as she noticed Harry.

The three friends exchanged looks, unsure how to explain. Ever since the quidditch training that had ended with Ron cursing Malfoy, they had not worried about Ron's new wand getting noticed. Fred and George had missed it, only a few feet away. They had been sure that meant the disillusionment charm was working.

"Yeah, it's a new wand," Ron finally admitted. "But you can't tell anyone, do you hear me?" he implored.

Ginny scowled. "Where did it come from? And what happened to your old wand?"

"I, er, lost my old one over the summer, but didn't want anyone to know—"

"You lost it? How could you lose your wand?"

"Actually, Snuffles, er, ran away with it," said Harry, which was almost the truth. "And so I decided to replace it. But Ron didn't want to say anything, because he didn't want to get in trouble—"

Ginny's eyes darted towards him when he began to speak, but she quickly looked away. "So… I wasn't the only… Of course, you'd give Ron things, too – he's your friend…" she muttered, then blushed.

Harry remembered how he had passed on the books Lockhart had given him to her. He had barely given that a second thought. But it seemed to have meant something to her. He did not know what to say.

"Well, anyway. You mustn't say anything. Promise you'll keep your mouth shut," said Ron.

"Ron!" Hermione berated him, but Ron paid her no mind, keeping his focus on Ginny.

"But…" At her brother's darkening expression, she held up her hands. "All right. It's none of my business, anyway—"

"Exactly."

Ginny scowled. "But how you hope to keep it secret is beyond me. Everyone's bound to notice sooner or later. I'm surprised Percy hasn't noticed yet—"

"What's surprising is how you managed to notice!" said Ron.

"Maybe you forgot to cast the charm?" Hermione said under her breath.

"No I didn't!" Ron drew his wand to wave it in front of her face. "Here, check if you don't believe me—"

"Charm?" Ginny began to say, but then trailed off. She regarded her brother's wand with a rather odd, faraway expression in her eyes – something quite incongruous with her childish face. "Oh, I see…" she said softly, with a hint of a smile in her voice.

"Ah!" Harry's hand shot to his forehead as a sharp pain went through his scar.

Ginny's eyes looked assessing, rather than shy, as she sought his and held his gaze for an extended moment. Then she blinked and the moment passed. Her shadowed eyes refocussed, she blushed and looked away. She mumbled something between an excuse and an apology and fled back into the common room.

"What just happened?" asked Harry.

Ron looked bewildered, while Hermione looked concerned. "I don't want to sound interfering, Ron, but maybe you should keep an eye on her," she finally suggested.

Days passed, then weeks. October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. Madam Pomfrey was kept busy by a sudden spate of colds among the staff and students.

Ginny Weasley kept her promise and did not say a word about Ron's wand. As for keeping an eye on her, it seemed almost as if she was avoiding them. Either that, or she was never around and no one had paid attention to her disappearances before. At any rate, the only thing they noticed was that Ginny looked increasingly paler as time wore on. They tried talking to Percy, hoping he would take care of her, but all he did was bully her into taking some Pepper-Up potion. The steam pouring from under her vivid hair gave the impression that her whole head was on fire.

Nothing more could be discovered until after Halloween.

~HP~

It was lucky that the day after Halloween fell on a Sunday as Harry, Ron and Hermione had a lot to talk about. Soon after breakfast, his friends sat around Harry in the common room, as he tried to compose a lengthy letter to Sirius.

"So, I've written what we saw – Mrs. Norris hanging by her tail, the puddle of water under her, and the message on the wall—"

"The chamber of secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware," supplied Hermione.

"Yeah, I wrote that. I also wrote how we got there – that I heard that voice again. You might have some doubts about that—"

"I believe a hundred percent that you heard it, Harry," said Hermione. "The voice led us to Mrs. Norris. It's just how Sirius said – you're the only one who hears it, just like you're the only one Dobby warned—"

"But we now agree that there really is a danger at Hogwarts this year!" hissed Harry, trying his best to keep his voice low enough not to be overheard.

"Yeah, we may all hate that cat, but petrifying her…" Ron shook his head.

"I'll have to read up on that Chamber of Secrets," mused Hermione. "And… I wonder who the enemies of the heir are supposed to be. Whose heir?"

"Well, you heard Malfoy. He seemed to know exactly what that message meant," said Ron darkly.

Harry hummed. "I should probably mention that as well," he said and picked up his quill.

"Did you write about the deathday party? And about the professors questioning us later?" asked Hermione.

"I did, yes. Ugh," groaned Harry. "I should never have promised Nearly Headless Nick I'd go to his deathday party. None of this would have happened if I hadn't even talked to him—"

"How do you figure that?" asked Hermione sensibly. "You had nothing to do with Filch's cat being petrified, so—"

"Yes, yes," Harry waved her off, "but if we hadn't been there – Actually, if Filch hadn't found me talking to Nearly Headless Nick, I never would've found out he was a squib, and he wouldn't have had a reason to suspect us—"

"That still leaves Snape, and he doesn't need a reason to frame us for something," said Ron.

"Oh, yeah, him. I wonder what Sirius will write about that," sniggered Harry. "Whatever he may have promised, he hasn't written a single letter yet without insulting Snape in it in some way."

"Yeah, even when Snape let me off easily for cursing Malfoy, all Sirius wrote was how Snape used to use the 'm' word as a student himself."

"But that was…" Hermione began to say, but trailed off. She frowned.

"What?" asked Ron.

"Professor Snape, he – well, he's been watching us ever since, hasn't he?"

Ron waved that away. "He's been doing that forever. All year, he's been trying to get us properly punished – but he keeps failing. After the car trip he wanted us expelled – but he had no say in our punishment. Then he had to let me get away with cursing Malfoy – only took ten points! I could hardly believe it. And then, yesterday, he started talking about Harry and quidditch, but then stopped himself, before saying Harry should be taken off the team – must've realised McGonagall would never let him—"

"Yeah… we've thwarted all his efforts, haven't we?" mused Harry. "Think we should be a bit careful around him from now on?"

He and Ron looked at each other. "Nah!" they both said together and giggled.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know… I thought he was really surprised that day when you told him what Draco Malfoy had said… He – I don't know." She broke off and shook her head.

"You think he's rethinking his opinion of us? Even a little?" asked Harry. He tried to sound disbelieving, but the thought had occurred to him as well. Even back at the end of their first year, Snape had a few moments when he would suddenly treat them almost decently.

Hermione did not answer.

"He might be, actually," said Ron instead. "It'd explain why he seems so mad at us even when we haven't done much of anything. He's really mad at himself, because he wants to think the worst of us, but we keep changing his mind."

The boys laughed, liking the thought of messing with Snape's peace of mind.

Hermione shook her head. "Never mind that now, Harry. Have you finished the letter? The earlier we send it, the earlier Sirius can reply. Who knows, maybe he can tell us something about that Chamber of Secrets – You remembered to ask him, didn't you?"

"Er, sure," said Harry, but then went back to his letter to add more writing to it.

"And maybe ask him if he knows what could have petrified that cat—"

"All right," sighed Harry.

"It might not be such a bad thing, actually," said Ron. "Maybe we all worry for no reason. I mean, whoever did it, did us all a favour, putting that cat out of commission—"

"Ron!" Hermione all but yelled at him. "How can you say that? She was petrified!"

As soon as she had flared up, she clamped her hands over her mouth. They looked around, to see if she had attracted unwanted attention, and saw Ginny looking at them, looking disquieted.

"Sorry, Ginny, I forgot how much you like cats – all cats," Ron said with a grimace.

"Sh-she was petrified," Ginny all but whispered.

"But you haven't really got to know Mrs. Norris," Ron told her bracingly. "Honestly, we're much better off without her."

Ginny's lip trembled.

"Stuff like this doesn't often happen at Hogwarts," Ron assured her. "They'll catch the maniac who did it and have him out of here in no time. I just hope he's got time to petrify Filch before he's expelled. I'm only joking—" Ron added hastily as Ginny blanched.

"Mrs. Norris is going to be all right soon," Hermione tried to comfort her more sensibly. "Professor Dumbledore examined her, you see, and he said so—"

"Yes, exactly. No need to worry," said Ron. "And you didn't even have to see her, did you? I didn't see you around there after the feast—"

"N-no, I—"

"Bit of a shame, actually. You might've noticed something. You're still the only one who's noticed, you know—" Ron looked around and lowered his voice, "—my wand."

"Never mind that, Ron. It's good you didn't rush over there with everyone else and didn't have to see that. Did Percy take you away from there?" asked Hermione.

Unexpectedly, a her face twisted into an awkward grimace. She looked strangely embarrassed. "I-I don't remember…"

"You don't remember talking to Percy in that chaos?" Hermione frowned. "Or…" she said hesitantly, "do you not remember the whole event? Like a complete blank? I've heard that's what happens when people have a traumatic experience," she went on in her brisk manner. "Maybe, if you want, I could take you to Madam Pomfrey—"

It was the question of a concerned friend, with no hidden agenda. Remembering how the feast had ended just as the three friends had reached that passage and everyone had streamed out of the great hall and into the passage from both ends in a near-panic had prompted Hermione to ask.

Ginny's eyes turned shadowed again, before a calculating look settled on her features. "Mind your own business," she said, quite calmly, without the slightest trace of her usual shyness.

Harry's hand went to his scar again, something Ginny did not miss. She seemed to freeze for just a moment. Then she blinked, blushed and turned confused eyes to them.

"What would you say that for?" said Ron. "Hermione was just trying to help."

"What?" asked Ginny. "What did I…" She trailed off, looking embarrassed. "Never mind, I need to go, do my homework…" She left quickly, not looking back.

"Alright, now I'm worried," said Ron.