Thanks in part to Harry's spectacular diving catch of the Snitch, inches ahead of the Ravenclaw Seeker (a very pretty girl a little older than Harry), and the subsequent award of fifty points, the Gryffindors won the House Cup. Random Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs approached to congratulate them, not on winning, but on "beating Slytherin." Ron thought that he, Harry, and Hermione all ought to have gotten extra points for their incredible magical feats in the Chambers, plus Harry's second defeat in ten years of the darkest wizard of all time, but when Hermione pointed out that Draco would have to get extra points too Ron got over it.
"At least Malfoy owes me a fiver," said Ron triumphantly. "That dive was pretty brilliant, Harry."
The morning after the award of the House Cup, examination marks were posted outside the Great Hall before breakfast. Hermione made a beeline for it. Ron hung back and pretended to be very interested in the four great hourglasses; Gryffindor's red "points" were glowing with the victory.
"We've got to find out sometime, Ron," Harry was saying just as Draco strolled over.
"Snape, Weasley," he said, not disagreeably. "Looking a bit gloomy. See your marks already, I take it?"
"Getting to it," Ron said.
Draco smiled condescendingly. "Well, I wouldn't worry. I'm sure you'll have a lovely time next year, sharing all your classes with little Jenny the artist."
"It's Ginny," said Harry and Ron at the same time.
Draco shrugged. "Well, I'm off to collect congratulations for my outstanding marks."
He walked away, and Harry turned to Ron and found to his surprise that Ron looked sick. "Ginny's coming next year," he said. "I forgot… imagine I'm kept back, and have to do remedial first-year work with her! Or worse…imagine if I had to stay home while she came to Hogwarts!"
Harry was on the point of asking what would be so very bad about sharing classes with Ginny when Hermione raced across the lobby.
"You two can go look if you like," she said.
"I haven't the strength," said Ron.
"Oh, honestly. You both did fine."
"Passed?"
"With good marks, too; Ron, the only one you had a bit of trouble with, really, was History of Magic, you got sixty percent, but the rest is all right. Harry, you did well in pretty much everything; you came top of Potions."
"What? Over you?"
She smiled at him. "Yes, and you came near to beating me in Defence against the Dark Arts, too, you both did ever so much better than Malfoy in that…"
Draco really had done well, though; he came ninth in Defence against the Dark Arts and fourth in Herbology, behind Hermione in first and Neville in third (Draco was a bit cross about that, though Neville was thrilled), but either second or third in everything else.
"Bit funny how a Muggle-born girl beat you in every single examination, isn't it, Mr Pure-blood?" Ron said casually.
"Not funny when you think how much of a favourite she is with all the teachers," Draco said. "A hundred and twelve percent in Charms? That should be impossible."
Hermione went bright red and Ron would have punched Draco in the nose if Professor McGonagall hadn't walked by at that moment and congratulated them all.
"How'd your little friends do, anyway?" Harry asked when she had gone. "Crabbe and Goyle, I mean…do they in fact have given names?"
"How am I supposed to know how they did? What am I, their baby-sitter?"
"Ron and I were hoping that Goyle failed out, is all."
"He didn't," said Hermione, who appeared to have memorised the placement chart. "Fifty-two percent average."
"Maybe the teachers just didn't want to deal with him for another whole year," said Ron, grinning. "Ah, well. You can't have everything in life, I suppose."
Harry couldn't help but notice that Draco looked a little uncomfortable.
And suddenly, their wardrobes were empty, their trunks were packed, Neville's toad was found lurking in a corner of the toilets; notes were handed out to all students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays ("I always hope they'll forget to give us these," said Fred Weasley sadly); Hagrid was there to take them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; then they were boarding the Hogwarts Express.
Harry twisted his head around to get one last look at the castle before leaving it for two months—two months with the Dursleys—two months without magic—two months without Hermione, or Ron, or even Malfoy.
But his view of the castle was obstructed by a giant furry coat. Hagrid beamed down at him and Harry smiled back up.
"Hullo, Hagrid," he said.
"All righ', Harry? Glad I caught yeh; completely forgot I had a present for yeh! Dumbledore gave me a day off a week or so ago t' fix it…hope yeh like it an' all…"
It seemed to be a handsome, leather-covered book. Harry opened it curiously. It was full of wizard photographs. Smiling and waving at him from every page were his mother and father.
"Sent owls off ter all yer parents' old school friends, askin' fer photos…see, Dumbledore said, abou' the mirror, abou' yeh not havin' any pictures or nothin'…d'yeh like it?"
If Harry had been a younger or altogether more demonstrative person, he would have hugged Hagrid. As it was, he just looked up into the vast bearded face and nodded.
Malfoy seemed to care the least that they were leaving. He was going to parents who adored him in a giant mansion in the country where there were peacocks and chandeliers, and where there was enough residual magic and adult presence that he could if he chose practice magic practically without interference.
"You'll be dead bored, I expect, Snapey, with all those Muggles," he said casually as the train began to slow down near the station. "I'll drop you a line or two. Father says we ought to do our best to maintain the appearance of friendly relations with an international hero like you. I say rot. But it does mean he'll want to meet you, I suppose…so if you felt like popping round for a week or so…"
"I was going to ask you round for part of the holiday, Harry," Ron interrupted. "You too, Hermione, if you like. Should I send you an owl?"
Draco shrugged and turned away.
"Guess I wouldn't mind having anything to look forward to," said Harry. "Maybe all four of us can meet up somewhere?"
Draco and Ron said "Oh, right" in such perfect synchronicity that Harry was a bit startled.
Still, they all got off the platform at once, and went through the gate almost together.
"There he is, Mom, there he is, look!"
It was Ginny Weasley, but she wasn't pointing at Ron.
"Harry Snape!" she squealed. "Look, Mom! I can see…"
"Be quiet, Ginny, and it's rude to point."
Ginny gave Harry the same brilliant smile he'd been seeing all year in his worst moments, except now the tooth at the side had more or less grown in. But she had the same freckles, the same bright brown eyes, and the same messy red hair.
"Hi, Ginny," he said. Her eyes grew about four sizes and she looked as though she might faint—Harry Snape was talking to her! Harry Snape knew her name! "Hi again, Mrs Weasley."
Mrs. Weasley smiled down at them.
"Busy year?" she said.
Harry made a mental note that, if Ron succeeded in having him round for part of the holidays, he would tell Ginny all about how she helped win three Quidditch games, get through dozens of History of Magic classes, and defeat the darkest wizard of all time, twice—without ever having set foot in Hogwarts.
"Very," he said.