"Oi, Hermione! Where are you?"
Hermione jumped up and barely bit back her scream in time – she could not reveal her position. Not now, not with Harry like this. But hope blossomed in her heart for the first time in days. She grabbed Harry's Invisibility Cloak, threw it over herself, and cautiously peered outside the tent, her wand at the ready.
"Harry! Hermione!"
As soon as she saw that red hair bobbing in the twilight, she threw off the Invisibility Cloak and rushed headlong in Ron's arms.
"Hey, watch it! Hermione…I'm…I'm sorry…I've been a prat…Hermione, what's wrong?" Ron's face was creased with worry when he saw Hermione crying.
"It's…it's Harry." She sobbed.
"Oh no…What's happened? Hermione, where is he? What happened?" He panicked as he thought over the horrible possibilities.
"He's sick…"
Ron looked exasperated. "What, Hermione? With the flu?"
"No!" She positively glared at him. "It's V–"
"NO!" roared Ron. Hermione stared at him. "Sorry, but the names been jinxed – that's how they track people! Using his name breaks protective enchantments, it causes some kind of magical disturbance – it's how they found us in Tottenham Court Road!"
Hermione shuddered to recall how close she and Harry were to having been caught; for some odd twist of fate, Harry had shouted 'the Dark Lord' instead of 'Voldemort' in his delirium. If he had said Voldemort…
"…Well, it usually doesn't take too long, right? When my dad got hurt, Harry was only sick for about half an hour!"
Hermione had been staring at the ground, not fully paying attention to what Ron was saying. When she looked up mournfully at Ron, he noticed her pale face and the dark purple rings underneath her eyes for the first time.
"It's been four days since he attacked, Ron."
The blood drained from Ron's face.