Back at Headquarters, Hermione couldn't stop thinking about poor Neville and his parents. While it was an utter tragedy that Harry never really knew his parents, Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that Neville's situation was, in some ways, even more heartbreaking. Seeing his parents in their current state—a constant, living reminder of what they once were and what they could have been—must be a daily torment. Each visit to St Mungo's painfully highlighted the void in Neville's life, the cruel twist of fate that left his parents physically present but mentally absent. The harshness of his grandmother's constant comparisons only deepened the wound, making Hermione's heart ache for him. She had a newfound respect for the quiet strength he had to summon daily to face such a tragic reality.
In the last few days of the holiday break, Hermione worked diligently on new Ancient Runes flashcards to give to Neville amid the chaos of 12 Grimmauld Place. Kreacher was found, thankfully, hiding in the attic instead of out in the wizarding world, which helped ease some of the unspoken tensions at Headquarters. Hermione, however, remained suspicious. Kreacher seemed to be in a much better mood—at least a better mood than his treatment at the House of Black would merit.
Both Harry and Sirius seemed to be positively dreading the end of the holidays, though both tried (unsuccessfully) not to let their dread show. Hermione knew Harry was upset about his Quidditch ban, and she tried to get him to see all the positives of his newly found free time, like extra time for homework and the DA. However, All of her points were met with eye rolls and subject changes. She supposed Sirius was selfishly disappointed that Harry was returning to school and being obnoxiously sullen about everything. What did he expect? That Harry would quit school and live with him so he could have his "best friend" back again? Harry was not his father, and Sirius needed to understand that once and for all.
Despite Umbridge's tyrannous presence, Hermione was still excited to return to Hogwarts. She had done her best not to think of the detention she had endured before the holidays and had, for the most part, succeeded. After all, there had been much to keep her busy this Christmas. However, in quiet moments, Hermione could hear her own voice reciting, "I'm not smart, just average," over and over again.
On the last day of the holidays, Hermione, Ginny, Ron, Harry, and Crookshanks sat in Ron's bedroom. Ron and Harry were playing Wizard Chess and, to no one's surprise, Harry was losing horribly.
"Harry, dear," said Mrs Weasley, poking her head into the room, "could you come down to the kitchen? Professor Snape would like a word with you."
Hermione and Ginny snapped their heads around to see Harry's response, but it was clear he did not immediately register what Mrs Weasley said. One of his castles was engaged in a violent brawl with a pawn of Ron's, and he was egging it on enthusiastically.
"Squash him—squash him! He's only a pawn, you idiot!" Harry groaned as the pawn continued to take chunks out of his castle. "Sorry, Mrs Weasley, what did you say?"
"Professor Snape, dear. In the kitchen. He'd like a word."
Harry's mouth fell open in horror, which matched Hermione's and the others'. Crookshanks, whom Hermione had been restraining with difficulty for the past quarter of an hour, leapt gleefully onto the board, sending the pieces running for cover, squealing at the top of their voices.
"Snape?" Harry repeated blankly.
"Professor Snape, dear," said Mrs Weasley reprovingly. "Now, come on, quickly. He says he can't stay long."
"What's he want with you?" said Ron, looking unnerved as Mrs Weasley withdrew from the room. "You haven't done anything, have you?" Hermione was thinking the same thing.
"No!" Harry said indignantly, but Hermione could tell he wasn't entirely sure. She watched as he dragged himself to his feet and shuffled out of the room.
"Wonder what that git wants?" Ron mused. "It was nice to have a break from that bloke this Christmas. And the toad woman, too."
"I was just thinking the same," Hermione said.
Ron gestured towards the chessboard. "Want to take over for Harry?"
"Absolutely not," Hermione said. "I know you usually beat me, but I'm at least slightly better than Harry."
"Gin?"
"Nope, not a chance," Ginny said. "I'll save any and all ass-kicking for DA lessons."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron said quickly, setting his jaw. "You think you can kick my ass, or you don't want your ass kicked?"
"Take it however you want, brother," Ginny said with a grin. "I'm going to go up and pack."
Ginny jumped up and headed out the door before Ron could say anything else to her.
"What did she mean?" Ron asked Hermione.
"Just what she said," Hermione responded simply. "Now, do you want to reset the board and play a new game or not?"
"I guess so," Ron said. Hermione could see his thoughts racing as he placed the pieces on the board.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Do you really think Ginny could kick my ass in the DA?"
Hermione took a second to word her response as nicely as she could without lying. "Well, Ginny is quite good at hexes and jinxes; everyone knows that. But you're great at other things."
"That doesn't really answer the question, does it?" he said glumly. "So, obviously, your answer is yes. You're just trying to be nice."
"No, not necessarily," Hermione said cautiously. "I'm just pointing out that you both have different skill sets when it comes to defensive magic. Where is this all coming from, anyway?"
"Well," Ron started sheepishly, "I guess I've been thinking a lot about things and realising you and I are in the most danger and need to be the most prepared to fight, you know? I mean, we are Harry's best friends and constantly with him, so the odds of being attacked are pretty high."
Hermione nodded, her thoughts aligning with Ron's. "I get it, Ron. I've been thinking about it a lot too. Watching Harry's memories from the graveyard was horrifying, and seeing what happened to Neville's parents... it's all terrifying."
Ron looked at her, his expression softening. "Exactly. And Dad... he was so lucky to survive that attack. What if something like that happens to us? I don't want to be a burden. I want to be able to protect you and Harry."
"You're not a burden, Ron," Hermione said firmly. "You've proven yourself time and time again. But I know what you mean. We all need to be ready."
Ron sighed, his eyes filled with worry. "I just keep thinking about how close we were to losing Dad. And what if... what if one of us ends up like Neville's parents? I don't think I could bear it, Hermione."
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their fears hanging in the air. Then, almost instinctively, they began to lean towards each other, the space between them growing smaller. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. Hermione's heart pounded in her chest as Ron leaned in closer. She could feel his breath on her skin, and her own breath caught in her throat. It was as if everything they had been through, all the fear and uncertainty, had brought them to this moment.
Just as their lips were about to meet, a shout echoed through the house, startling them apart.
"Dad's home!"
The moment shattered, Hermione and Ron quickly stood up, both blushing furiously. "We should go see him," Hermione said, her voice a little shaky.
"Yeah, let's go," Ron agreed, leading the way out of the room. They exchanged a quick, meaningful glance before hurrying downstairs to join the others, their unspoken feelings hanging in the air between them.
That night's dinner should have been cheerful, with Mr Weasley back amongst them and their return to school in the morning, but it was anything but. Sirius was seemingly forcing himself to laugh loudly at Fred and George's jokes. Instead of warmth, it just came off as awkward. The altercation between Sirius and Professor Snape still hung in the air like a giant pink elephant no one wanted to address.
Additionally, there seemed to be yet another awkward chasm between Hermione and Ron after their almost kiss in his bedroom. Hermione shook her head, frustration gnawing at her. Would she ever figure out her feelings for Ron? Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion, caught between the safety of their friendship and the unfamiliar territory of deeper emotions. It didn't help that Ron kept glancing at her, his ears turning pink whenever their eyes met.
Harry looked like he was internally debating whether or not he should even return to school or stay back with his forlorn godfather, who seemed even more despondent than usual.
Hermione watched Harry pick at his dessert, a deep frown etched on his face. She wished there was something more she could do to help. Finally, unable to bear his obvious misery, she spoke up. "Are you okay, Harry?"
Harry looked up at her, his green eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and sadness. "No," he admitted miserably.
Ron, who had been listening intently, leaned in closer. "What did Snape want, other than to hex Sirius's head off?"
Harry sighed heavily. "I guess Dumbledore wants me to have these things called Ocularity lessons, and Snape's the only one who can teach me."
"You mean Occlumency?" Hermione asked, her interest piqued.
"Yeah, that," Harry nodded.
"What's that?" Ron asked.
"It's the magic of closing one's mind against a mind-reader or Legilimens," Hermione explained. "Dumbledore wants to stop you having those dreams about Voldemort." When Harry still looked as miserable as before, Hermione added, "Well, you won't be sorry not to have them anymore, will you?"
"Extra lessons with Snape?" said Ron, sounding aghast. "I'd rather have the nightmares!"
After dinner, the mood remained sombre. Hermione found herself standing in the hallway, staring out of a small window into the darkening sky. The house was quieter now, with everyone scattered around, lost in their own thoughts. The day's events weighed heavily on her, and the recent memories of Neville's parents, her near-kiss with Ron, and the confrontation between Sirius and Snape swirled in her mind.
Ron appeared beside her, his presence a comforting familiarity. "Hey," he said softly.
"Hey," she replied, turning to face him.
"I was thinking again about earlier," Ron started, his ears immediately turning red. Hermione held her breath; she had no idea how this conversation would go. "And I was thinking maybe you could give me extra DA lessons… maybe when Harry goes for his extra lessons with Snape?"
Hermione let out the breath she had been holding in her lungs. "Of course," she said, unsure if she was relieved or disappointed that he was there to talk about defences and not kisses. "We can help each other."
"Sounds good," Ron said, shuffling his feet. Hermione's heart skipped another beat as Ron drew in a breath as if he was going to say something else. However, all that came out of his mouth was, "Thanks, see ya tomorrow morning," before running up the staircase.
Hermione watched him go, a mixture of emotions churning inside her. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, and decided she just needed to go to bed and start over in the morning.
But the night brought little rest. Images of dark corridors plagued her dreams, and the looming figures and haunting faces of Neville's parents intermingled with those of Ron and his family. She tossed and turned, the nightmares gripping her tightly and refusing to let go. Every time she woke, she stared into the darkness, the fear and uncertainty of the future weighing heavily on her heart.
The morning light streamed into her eyes far too soon. Still, Hermione nonetheless dragged herself out of bed and mentally prepared for the return to school and whatever challenges awaited them. They were to return to Hogwarts on the Knight Bus, escorted again by Tonks and Lupin. When Hermione, Ginny, Ron, and Harry came down for breakfast, they found the adults already in the kitchen, clearly amid a whispered conversation. As Harry opened the door, they all looked around hastily and fell silent.
After a hurried breakfast, they pulled on jackets and scarves against the chilly grey January morning. The usual Weasley chaos ensued; Mrs Weasley was trying to persuade the twins to wear hand-knitted mittens while Ginny and Ron argued about who would mind Pig the Owl on the Knight Bus. Sirius and Harry were off to the side, speaking in low tones. Mr Weasley was helping Tonks settle on a metamorphosed disguise for their escort, finally settling on a tall, tweedy woman with iron-grey hair.
Just as the cacophony of Weasley fervour reached a peak, they headed upstairs and gathered around the bolted front door, ready to go. Hermione couldn't help but think they were leaving just in time.
"Goodbye, Harry, take care," said Mrs Weasley, hugging him before turning to Hermione to do the same.
Hermione squeezed Mrs Weasley tightly and waved to Sirius and Mr Weasley. She, Ron, Harry, and Ginny squeezed out the front door into the icy winter air. The door slammed shut behind them, and they followed Lupin and Tonks down the front steps. As they reached the pavement, Hermione looked around. Number Twelve was shrinking rapidly as the houses on either side stretched sideways, squeezing it out of sight. One blink later, it had vanished.
"Come on, the quicker we get on the bus, the better," said Tonks.
Lupin flung out his wand arm.
BANG.
A violently purple, triple-decker bus appeared out of thin air in front of them, narrowly avoiding the nearest lamppost, which jumped backwards out of its way. The same thin, pimply, jug-eared young man from their last trip leapt down to the pavement in his purple uniform and said, "Welcome to the—"
"Yes, yes, we know, thank you," said Tonks swiftly. "On, on, get on—"
Tonks shoved the four students towards the steps, passing the conductor, who goggled at Harry as he passed.
"'Ere—it's 'Arry—"
"If you shout his name, I will curse you into oblivion," muttered Tonks menacingly.
"I've always wanted to go on this thing," said Ron happily. Hermione couldn't help but smirk—he had no idea what he was getting himself into.
As Hermione got to the top of the steps, she looked around. There was an assortment of mismatched chairs grouped haphazardly around windows. Some of these appeared to have fallen over when the bus stopped abruptly in Grimmauld Place; a few witches and wizards were still getting to their feet, grumbling, and somebody's shopping bag had slid the length of the bus; an unpleasant mixture of frogspawn, cockroaches, and custard creams was scattered all over the floor.
"Looks like we'll have to split up," said Tonks briskly, looking around for empty chairs. "Fred, George, and Ginny, if you just take those seats at the back… Remus can stay with you."
Tonks gestured to Hermione, Ron, and Harry to follow her up to the top deck, where two unoccupied chairs were at the front of the bus and two at the back. Hermione figured the back of the bus would be slightly less volatile and slid into the empty front seat. Tonks took a mental inventory of the other passengers on the top deck and decided no one was a threat. Harry and Ron proceeded to the back of the bus, and Tonks turned her attention to the staircase they had just climbed.
Hermione and Tonks handed over their eleven Sickles each to Stan, who then headed back to the boys to collect their fare. Tonks pulled out two Galleons and slipped them into Stan's hand. "Can Hogwarts be the next stop?" she asked under her breath.
"O'course," Stan said, tipping his hat. "Jus' let us get Madam Marsh off first, though. She's not feeling 'er best."
Tonks nodded, and she and Hermione settled into their seats. Hermione looked for things to hold on to.
"Been on this before, right?" Tonks said, pulling a leather strap out of her handbag and strapping her hand to the bar in front of them. Hermione nodded, wishing she had thought to bring something similar. "I heard Ron say he hadn't. He's in for it," she looked at Hermione with a mischievous grin. "Think he'll regret that huge breakfast he had this morning?"
"Ron? Regret food? Never," Hermione giggled, but her laugh was short-lived as the bus set off again, swaying ominously. It rumbled around Grimmauld Place, weaving on and off the pavement, and then, with another tremendous BANG, they were all flung backwards. Tonks stayed in place but had to reach behind her to grab Hermione from joining her friends in the back of the bus.
"Alright?" Tonks called over the roar of the bus.
Hermione regained her balance and set her chair roughly back where it started. "Why don't they bolt the chairs into the floorboards?"
"That'd be too easy," Tonks laughed. "Oh, hello, Pig!"
Ron's owl, Pigwidgeon, must have escaped from his cage and landed on Hermione's shoulder. Just as Hermione was going to look back to see if Ron was coming to get him, the Knight Bus swerved alarmingly, overtaking a line of cars on the inside. Hermione's hands involuntarily covered her eyes.
BANG.
The chairs slid backwards again as the Knight Bus jumped from the Birmingham motorway to a quiet country lane full of hairpin bends. Hermione's hands flew from her eyes to the bar in front of her, holding on for dear life. She watched as hedgerows on either side of the road leapt out of their way as they mounted the verges. From there, they moved to a main street in the middle of a busy town, then to a viaduct surrounded by tall hills, then to a windswept road between high-rise flats, each time with a loud bang.
A few minutes later, the Knight Bus screeched to a halt outside a small pub, which squeezed itself out of the way to avoid a collision. They could hear Stan ushering the unfortunate Madam Marsh out of the bus and the relieved murmurings of her fellow passengers on the second deck. The bus moved on again, gathering speed, until—
BANG.
They were rolling through a snowy Hogsmeade. Hermione caught a glimpse of the Hog's Head down its side street, the severed boar's head sign creaking in the wintry wind. Flecks of snow hit the large window at the front of the bus. At last, they rolled to a halt outside the gates to Hogwarts.
Lupin and Tonks helped them off the bus with their luggage, then got off to say goodbye. Ron looked as pale as the snow falling around them. Hermione would bet good money that he was not a fan of the Knight Bus. Ginny, Fred, and George looked slightly shaken but not as ill as Ron.
"You'll be safe once you're in the grounds," said Tonks, carefully examining the deserted road. "Have a good term, OK?"
"Look after yourselves," said Lupin, shaking hands all around.
The six of them struggled up the slippery drive towards the castle, dragging their trunks. With every step, Hermione could feel her anxiety rise. With the amount of nerves raging through her body, she could knit twenty hats before bedtime.
Hermione surprised even herself by knitting twenty-one and a half hats before finally falling asleep around 4:00 am. She shuffled down to breakfast and got the biggest coffee she could conceivably drink before classes started.
Throughout the day, various DA members approached the three friends, hoping to find out if there would be a meeting that night. With each inquiry, Harry's face fell a little more.
"I'll let you know in the usual way when the next one is," Harry would say repeatedly, "but I can't do it tonight. I've got to go to—er—remedial Potions."
"You take remedial Potions?" asked Zacharias Smith superciliously, having cornered Harry, Hermione, and Ron in the Entrance Hall after lunch. "Good Lord, you must be terrible. Snape doesn't usually give extra lessons, does he?"
As Smith strode away in an annoyingly buoyant fashion, Ron glared after him.
"Shall I jinx him? I can still get him from here," he said, raising his wand and taking aim between Smith's shoulder blades.
"Forget it," said Harry dismally. "It's what everyone's going to think, isn't it? That I'm really stup—"
"Hi, Harry," said a voice behind him. They all turned round and found Cho standing there.
"Oh," said Harry. "Hi."
Hermione knew immediately from looking at Cho's face that it was time for her and Ron to make a swift exit. "We'll be in the library, Harry," she said as she seized Ron above the elbow and dragged him off towards the marble staircase.
"Ow, what was that for?" Ron whined, rubbing his elbow as they walked into the Library.
"Cho wanted to be alone with Harry," Hermione said simply.
"But they're in the middle of the Entrance Hall," Ron said, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "It was packed full of people."
Hermione just rolled her eyes and led him into the Library.
About ten minutes later, Harry strode in, looking slightly flustered but excited.
"Hey, Harry," Hermione greeted, looking up from her parchment. "How did your conversation with Cho go?"
Harry sat down with a broad smile. "It went really well. I asked Cho to Hogsmeade with me on Valentine's Day."
Hermione's eyes lit up with genuine happiness for her friend. "That's wonderful, Harry! I'm glad things are working out between you two."
"Yeah," Harry said, running a hand through his hair. "I'm really looking forward to it."
Ron, who had been half-listening, finally perked up. "Valentine's Day in Hogsmeade, eh? You'll have to take her to Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop. It's supposed to be all hearts and cherubs."
Harry chuckled. "Yeah, I've heard it's quite... pink."
Hermione smiled at the exchange but couldn't help feeling a twinge of disappointment. She glanced sideways at Ron, hoping he might catch on to the idea of asking her to Hogsmeade. "It sounds like it will be a lovely day," she said, her tone a bit more pointed. "Valentine's Day is a great opportunity to spend time with someone special."
Ron looked at Hermione, puzzled momentarily before comprehension dawned on his face. "Oh, right. Yeah, I suppose it is."
Hermione sighed inwardly, deciding to give Ron a bit more of a nudge. "Ron, do you remember when we went to Hogsmeade last year? It was really nice, wasn't it?"
Ron blinked, then nodded. "Yeah, it was. We had a good time."
Hermione bit her lip, trying to remain patient. "It would be nice to do something like that again."
"Yeah, why wouldn't we go to Hogsmeade?" Ron asked. "We go every trip."
Hermione couldn't keep the sigh in this time. She shut her book and packed up for their afternoon classes in silence.
After dinner, Hermione found herself back in the library with Ron as Harry went to his first Occlumency lesson with Snape. She pulled out their homework from Umbridge to work on. She managed to get through Defence Against the Dark Arts with just one panic attack, which Hermione considered a win.
When Harry walked in a bit past 9:00 pm, he looked as white as a Hogwarts ghost.
"How did it go?" Hermione whispered, looking concerned. "Are you all right, Harry?"
"Yeah ... fine ... I dunno," said Harry impatiently, wincing as pain shot through his scar again. "Listen ... I've just realised something..."
Hermione leaned in closer, her brow furrowed with worry. Ron put down his Quidditch magazine, his attention entirely on Harry.
"It was awful," Harry continued, lowering his voice to avoid Madam Pince's eagle-like ears. "Snape's supposed to teach me how to block out Voldemort's thoughts, right? But it's not just about blocking thoughts. It's about controlling emotions and memories... he made me relive everything."
Hermione gasped softly. "What do you mean, everything?"
"Everything," Harry repeated, a bitter edge in his voice. "All the worst memories I have. He kept invading my mind, and I had to try and push him out, but it was so hard. He saw my parents' deaths, Cedric's death, even things like Aunt Marge blowing up."
Hermione's heart ached for him. She reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "Harry, that's horrible. I'm so sorry you had to go through that."
Ron's face was pale. "But... did it help at all? I mean, did you learn anything?"
Harry sighed. "I don't know. I guess I learned how vulnerable I am. Snape said I need to control my emotions better, or Voldemort will use them against me. But that's not what I wanted to tell you."
Hermione and Ron exchanged a worried glance. Harry? Control his emotions? Hermione suspected Voldemort could control his emotions better than Harry.
Harry leaned in even closer, his voice barely a whisper. "When Snape was in my mind, I remembered something from the Department of Mysteries. There's this door that's always locked, and I think... I think it has something to do with what Voldemort wants. When I had that dream about the snake attacking Mr Weasley, it was in the Department of Mysteries."
Hermione's eyes widened. It all made sense.
"So... so are you saying..." whispered Ron, as Madam Pince swept past, squeaking slightly, "that the weapon—the thing You-Know-Who's after—is in the Ministry of Magic?"
"In the Department of Mysteries, it's got to be," Harry whispered. "I saw that door when your dad took me down to the courtrooms for my hearing, and it's definitely the same one he was guarding when the snake bit him."
Hermione let out a long, slow sigh. "Of course," she said.
"Of course what?" said Ron rather impatiently.
"Ron, think about it… Sturgis Podmore was trying to get through a door at the Ministry of Magic… it must have been that one. It's too much of a coincidence!"
"How come Sturgis was trying to break in when he's on our side?" said Ron.
"Well, I don't know," Hermione admitted. It was the only thing that didn't make sense… yet. "That is a bit odd…"
"So what's in the Department of Mysteries?" Harry asked Ron. "Has your dad ever mentioned anything about it?"
"I know they call the people who work in there 'Unspeakables,'" said Ron, frowning. "Because no one really seems to know what they do—weird place to have a weapon."
"It's not weird at all; it makes perfect sense," countered Hermione. "It will be something top secret that the Ministry has been developing, I expect… Harry, are you sure you're all right?"
Harry had just run both of his hands hard over his forehead and looked as though he was about to collapse from pain.
"Yeah… fine…" he said, lowering his hands, which Hermione noticed were trembling. "I just feel a bit… I don't like Occlumency much."
"I expect anyone would feel shaky if they'd had their mind attacked over and over again," said Hermione sympathetically. "Look, let's get back to the common room; we'll be a bit more comfortable there."
But the common room was packed and full of shrieks of laughter and excitement; Fred and George were demonstrating their latest bit of joke shop merchandise.
"Headless Hats!" shouted George as Fred waved a pointed hat decorated with a fluffy pink feather at the watching students. "Two Galleons each, watch Fred, now!"
Fred swept the hat onto his head, beaming. For a second, he merely looked rather silly; then, both the hat and his head vanished.
Several girls screamed, but everyone else was roaring with laughter.
"And off again!" shouted George, and Fred's hand groped briefly in what seemed to be thin air over his shoulder; then his head reappeared as he swept the pink-feathered hat from it.
"How do those hats work, then?" said Hermione, distracted from her homework and watching Fred and George. She hated to admit she was impressed. "I mean, obviously, it's some kind of Invisibility Spell, but it's rather clever to have extended the field of Invisibility beyond the boundaries of the charmed object… I'd imagine the charm wouldn't have a very long life, though." She looked over to Ron and Harry to see if they had any ideas or comments but immediately forgot about the hat when she saw Harry's face. He looked even worse than he had in the library.
"I'm going to have to do this tomorrow," he muttered, pushing his school books back into his bag.
"Well, write it in your homework planner then!" Hermione said encouragingly. She had bought both Ron and Harry planners to help them with their studies. "So you don't forget!"
Harry reached into his bag and pulled out the planner. "Don't leave it till later, you big second-rater!" chided the magical book as Harry scribbled down his homework from Umbridge before slouching up the steps.
Ron shook his head, watching Harry as well. "These planners are really annoying, you know," he muttered, picking his up and showing Hermione the flashing red message: "Start revising for your Potions essay now!"
Hermione crossed her arms and gave him a pointed look. "They're supposed to help you stay organised, Ronald. You wouldn't find them annoying if you actually used them properly."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, I didn't need a flashy planner to remind me I've got loads of homework. It's just more nagging."
"Maybe if you paid attention to it, you wouldn't have so much work piling up," Hermione retorted, though her tone was more weary than sharp.
"Yeah, yeah," Ron sighed, leaning back in his chair and shifting his tone. "I'm worried about Harry."
Hermione nodded, her expression softening. "Me too. Snape isn't making this easy for him."
"That git never makes anything easy," Ron grumbled. "But Harry's been through enough already. I don't like the idea of him having to relive all those bad memories."
"Maybe you should go check on him, Ron. Make sure he's alright. His defences are probably low at the moment."
Ron gave a slight nod, standing up and pocketing the homework planner. "Yeah, I probably should. G'night, 'Mione."
"Good night, Ron."
About twenty minutes later, Hermione finished the last sentence of her homework and started to pack her things. Halfway through a deep yawn, someone grabbed her shoulder. She jumped nearly a foot into the air.
"'Mione?"
"Oh, Ron! You scared me!"
"Sorry."
"What's wrong?"
"It's Harry," Ron said with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Hermione jumped up. "No, he's alright now. He's sleeping."
"What happened?" Hermione tried not to shout over the pounding of her heart.
"When I went up, he was on the floor, shaking and moaning. It took ages for me to wake him up. Then he started mumbling about how You-Know-Who is really happy. It was bloody scary."
Hermione scrunched up her face and pinched the bridge of her nose between her eyes. This was not a good sign. Things were ramping up.
They had to be ready.