HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED RETURNS
In a brief statement on Friday night, Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge confirmed that He Who Must Not Be Named has returned to this country and is once more active.
"It is with great regret that I must confirm that the wizard styling himself Lord – well, you know who I mean – is alive and among us again," said Fudge, looking tired and flustered as he addressed reporters. "It is with almost equal regret that we report the mass revolt of the Dementors of Azkaban, who have shown themselves averse to continuing in the Ministry's employ. We believe the Dementors are currently taking direction from Lord – Thingy.
"We urge the magical population to remain vigilant. The Ministry is currently publishing guides to elementary home and personal defence which will be delivered free to all wizarding homes within the coming month."
The Minister's statement was met with dismay and alarm from the wizarding community, which as recently as last Wednesday was receiving Ministry assurances that there was "no truth whatsoever in these persistent rumours that You-Know-Who is operating amongst us once more."
Details of the events that led to the Ministry turnaround are still hazy, though it is believed that He Who Must Not Be Named and a select band of followers (known as Death Eaters) gained entry to the Ministry of Magic itself on Thursday evening.
Albus Dumbledore, newly reinstated Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, reinstated member of the International Confederation of Wizards and reinstated Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, has so far been unavailable for comment. He has insisted over the past year that You-Know-Who is not dead, as was widely hoped and believed, but is recruiting followers once more for a fresh attempt to seize power. Meanwhile, the 'Boy Who Lived' –
"There you are, Harry. I knew they'd drag you into it somehow," said Hermione, looking over the top of the paper at him and the others.
Hermione was feeling much better. Her ribs still hurt like hell, but the memory lapses and nightmares had waned, thanks to Madam Pomfrey's potions and Ron's goofy grin. After Hermione became a bit more stable, she learned even more details about what had happened at the ministry. Ginny had broken her ankle in the fight but was able to help shield Hermione and a very addled Ron from countless spells. Neville had suffered a broken nose but kept fighting regardless, trying to take out Bellatrix a few more times than Hermione had seen before she was injured. Luna had been knocked out, but her cognitive ability seemed to have stayed at her baseline, whatever that meant. And sadly, the prophecy had been smashed in the fight, so they may never know what it said.
"He's the 'boy who lived' again now, though, isn't he?" said Ron darkly. "Not such a deluded show-off any more, eh?"
"Yes, they're very complimentary about you now, Harry," said Hermione, scanning the rest of the article. "'A lone voice of truth… perceived as unbalanced, yet never wavered in his story… forced to bear ridicule and slander…' Hmmm," she said, frowning. "I notice they didn't mention the fact that it was them doing all the ridiculing and slandering in the Prophet…" She absentmindedly rubbed her sore ribs and continued. "'You-Know-Who's Last Attempt to Take Over', pages two to four, 'What the Ministry Should Have Told Us,' page five, 'Why Nobody Listened to Albus Dumbledore,' pages six to eight, 'Exclusive Interview with Harry Potter,' page nine… Well, it's certainly given them lots to write about. And that interview with Harry isn't exclusive. It's the one that was in The Quibbler months ago…"
"Daddy sold it to them," said Luna vaguely, leafing through a copy of The Quibbler upside down. "He got a very good price for it, too, so we're going on an expedition to Sweden this summer to see if we can catch a Crumple-Horned Snorkack."
Hermione so wanted to say something sarcastic, but stopped herself. "That sounds lovely," she said with the biggest smile she could muster. Hermione saw Ginny hold back a laugh out of the corner of her eye.
"So, anyway," Hermione said, sitting up a little straighter and wincing again, "what's going on in school?"
"Well, Flitwick's got rid of Fred and George's swamp," said Ginny, "he did it in about three seconds. But he left a tiny patch under the window, and he's roped it off –"
"Why?" said Hermione, looking startled.
"Oh, he just says it was a really good bit of magic," said Ginny, shrugging.
"I think he left it as a monument to Fred and George," said Ron through a mouthful of chocolate. "They sent me all these, you know," he told them, pointing at the small mountain of Frogs beside him. "Must be doing all right out of that joke shop, eh?"
Hermione's stomach turned at the thought of all of that chocolate and looked away, changing the subject., "So, has all the trouble stopped now Dumbledore's back?"
"Yes," said Neville, "everything's settled right back to normal."
"I s'pose Filch is happy, is he?" asked Ron, propping a Chocolate Frog Card featuring Dumbledore against his water jug.
"Not at all," said Ginny. "He's really, really miserable, actually…" She lowered her voice to a whisper. "He keeps saying Umbridge was the best thing that ever happened to Hogwarts…"
All six of them looked around. Professor Umbridge was lying in a bed opposite them, gazing up at the ceiling. The story was that Dumbledore had strode alone into the Forest to rescue her from the centaurs; how he had done it – how he had emerged from the trees supporting Professor Umbridge without so much as a scratch on him – nobody knew, and Umbridge was certainly not telling. Since she had returned to the castle, she had not uttered a single word as far as any of them knew. Nobody really knew what was wrong with her, either. Her usually neat, mousy hair was very untidy, and there were still bits of twigs and leaves in it, but otherwise, she seemed to be relatively unscathed.
"Madam Pomfrey says she's just in shock," whispered Hermione.
"Sulking, more like," said Ginny.
"Yeah, she shows signs of life if you do this," said Ron, and with his tongue, he made soft clip-clopping noises. Umbridge sat bolt upright, looking around wildly.
"Anything wrong, Professor?" called Madam Pomfrey, poking her head around her office door.
"No... no…" said Umbridge, sinking back into her pillows. "No, I must have been dreaming…"
Hermione and Ginny muffled their laughter in the bedclothes. She knew she should feel bad, but Hermione couldn't bring herself to shed an ounce of pity for the woman.
"Speaking of centaurs," said Hermione, when she had recovered a little, "who's Divination teacher now? Is Firenze staying?"
"He's got to," said Harry, "the other centaurs won't take him back, will they?"
"It looks like he and Trelawney are both going to teach," said Ginny.
"Bet Dumbledore wishes he could've got rid of Trelawney for good," said Ron, now munching on his fourteenth Frog. "Mind you, the whole subject's useless if you ask me. Firenze isn't a lot better…"
"How can you say that?" Hermione demanded. "After we've just found out that there are real prophecies? It's a pity it broke," Hermione said quietly, looking up at Harry.
"Yeah, it is," said Ron. "Still, at least You-Know-Who never found out what was in it either - where are you going?" he added, looking both surprised and disappointed as Harry stood up.
"Er – Hagrid's," said Harry. "You know, he just got back and I promised I'd go down and see him and tell him how you two are."
"Oh, all right then," said Ron grumpily, looking out of the dormitory window at the patch of bright blue sky beyond. "Wish we could come." Ron, like Hermione, was getting tired of the Hospital Wing.
"Say hello to him for us!" called Hermione as Harry proceeded down the ward. "And ask him what's happening about... about his little friend!"
Harry gave a wave of his hand to show he had heard and understood as he left the hospital wing.
After Harry was safely out of earshot, Hermione turned to the others. "How is he handling Sirius's death?"
"Are you really asking if Harry - Harry James Potter - is forthcoming about his feelings other than misguided anger?" Ginny said with a wry smile.
"Well, when you put it that way," Hermione smiled.
"Nah, he hasn't said much," Ron added. "At least to me."
"Maybe we should-"
"Nope, not touching that with a flying broom," Ron said. "Harry'll talk about it when he's good and ready."
"And has he talked about Voldemort-"
"Are you still asking if Harry is talking about important things?" Ginny chuckled.
"I just-"
"No, nothing," Neville said.
Hermione sank back into her raised pillow. "That boy is bloody stubborn," she said.
"Are you just coming to that realisation now?" Ginny said. "I mean, the guy convinced five of his friends to go on, basically, a suicide mission because he stubbornly wouldn't admit he was having nightmares."
"To his credit, they were kind of true," Ron said, biting his lip in the cutest way.
"No, they weren't," Ginny said. "Hermione was right all along - they were a trap."
"Hermione's always right," Neville said with a little laugh. "She knows everything… like when the next DA lesson is?"
Hermione hadn't even thought of the DA since before their History of Magic exam (which seemed to be years ago instead of days ago).
Neville picked up on her hesitation. "I mean, I hope there are more. Now that everyone knows You Know Who is back, I'm sure they will want to join."
"Maybe we'll get an actual teacher next term," said Ron, looking coldly at Umbridge across the wing, "and won't need the DA."
Neville's face fell instantly, and Luna turned back around with a pitiful look on her face. "But we like the DA," Luna said. "It's the only time Neville and I have friends."
"Luna," Ginny started, "we all almost died together… I think that makes us friends all the time."
"Really?" Luna asked dreamily.
"Yeah, you're kind of stuck with us now," Ron said. "Welcome to the bloody circus."
Hermione and Ron left the hospital wing completely cured three days before the end of term. Hermione wanted to talk about Sirius to Harry, but Ron tended to make "hushing" noises every time she mentioned Sirius's name. It was maddening.
Professor McGonagall returned from St Mungos and seemed to be feeling much better. On the day of Professor McGonagall's return, she awarded all six friends fifty points each for alerting them all to Voldemort's return, finally righting the wrongs of Umbridge's terror and upset of the points system at Hogwarts.
Speaking of, Professor Umbridge left Hogwarts the day before the end of term. It seemed she had crept out of the hospital wing during dinnertime, evidently hoping to depart undetected, but unfortunately for her, she met Peeves on the way. Peeves seized his last chance to do as Fred had instructed and chased her gleefully from the premises, whacking her alternately with a walking stick and a sock full of chalk. Many students ran out into the Entrance Hall to watch her running away down the path, and the Heads of Houses only half-heartedly tried to restrain them. Indeed, Professor McGonagall sank back into her chair at the staff table after a few feeble remonstrances. She was clearly heard expressing a regret that she could not run, cheering after Umbridge herself because Peeves had borrowed her walking stick.
Their last evening at school arrived; most people had finished packing and were already heading down to the end-of-the-year feast, but Hermione had some last-minute packing to do. She told Ron she'd meet him there and returned to her dormitory to pack up the last of her things.
Up in her dormitory, her bedspread was half-covered in clothes and books as she carefully folded her robes and packed them into her trunk. The end of term was always a bittersweet time, but the emotions were even more complicated this year than usual. With a soft sigh, she set aside her favourite Charms textbook and sat down on the edge of her bed, taking a moment to let her thoughts settle.
On one hand, Hermione couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that the year was finally over. It had been the most harrowing term she'd ever experienced, filled with danger, loss, and fear. The battle at the Department of Mysteries still haunted her, the memory of being cursed and hearing her friends in danger playing on a loop in her mind. She was tired—no, exhausted—and the thought of going home, of being in the safety and comfort of her parents' house, was undeniably appealing.
But there was also a gnawing anxiety that she couldn't shake. She hadn't seen her parents in what felt like forever, and though she knew they loved her and would be thrilled to have her back, a part of her dreaded the reunion, especially with their letter from their missed holiday. How could she possibly explain everything that had happened this year? How could she make them understand the constant terror she'd lived under, the fight against Umbridge, the weight of the prophecy that now loomed over Harry—and, by extension, all of them? How could she make them understand her need to stay in such a world?
Her parents were Muggles; they lived in a world where things like Voldemort and Death Eaters were unfathomable, and she hated the idea of burdening them with these dark realities. But at the same time, she couldn't just pretend that everything was fine.
She chewed her lip nervously, folding her favourite jumper and placing it gently in the trunk. Would they ask her to stay home and leave the wizarding world behind for her safety? The thought made her stomach twist with guilt and fear. She loved them dearly, but she couldn't imagine leaving Hogwarts, leaving Harry and Ron, when they needed her most.
And then there was Ron.
Hermione sighed again, this time more out of frustration than anything else. The year had been an emotional rollercoaster, and Ron had been at the centre of so much of it. They had grown closer in so many ways—fighting alongside each other, comforting one another when things had seemed darkest—but there was still that lingering uncertainty. Where did they stand? Did Ron feel the same confusing, muddled mix of emotions that she did? Was there something more between them, or was she reading too much into the little moments they'd shared?
She thought back to that moment in the hospital wing when Ron had climbed into her bed to comfort her after she woke from her nightmare. It had been so natural, so easy, to lean on him, to let him be her anchor when everything else felt like it was spinning out of control. But she couldn't help but wonder—had he done it because he cared for her as more than a friend, or was it just Ron being his usual, loyal self?
And what about the other times—when he'd stood up for her against Umbridge or been so protective of her during the battle? Was that something more, or was it just the way Ron was with all of his friends? The questions swirled in her mind, each one leaving her more unsure than the last.
Hermione closed her trunk with a soft click, her fingers lingering on the clasp. The truth was, she had no idea where she and Ron stood, and the uncertainty was driving her mad. She was used to having answers, to knowing exactly where she was headed and what needed to be done. But when it came to Ron, everything was murky, undefined.
And now, with the school year ending and summer looming, there would be months of separation—months where she wouldn't see him every day, where they wouldn't have the same excuse to be constantly in each other's lives. What would that do to their relationship, whatever it was? Would they drift apart? Or would the distance make their feelings clearer, make it easier to understand what they really meant to each other?
Hermione shook her head, trying to dispel the thoughts. She was overthinking, as usual. But it was hard not to—everything was so uncertain, so precarious, and she hated not having control over any of it.
With a sigh, she closed her trunk and sat down on the bed, staring out the window at the darkened sky. Tomorrow, they would board the Hogwarts Express and return to the world outside these walls. She would see her parents again, try to explain the unexplainable, and somehow find a way to balance the two worlds she straddled.
And as for Ron, she supposed she would just have to wait and see. Perhaps the summer would give them both the space they needed to figure things out. Or maybe it would only make everything more complicated.
One thing was certain—this summer, more than ever, would be a test of her ability to navigate the growing dangers in the wizarding world, protect her family, and make sense of her own tangled emotions.
With one last glance at her packed trunk, Hermione walked out of her room to join Ron and her friends down in the Great Hall for the end-of-the-year feast, the last bit of "normal" for the foreseeable future.
The journey home on the Hogwarts Express the next day was eventful in several ways. Firstly, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, who had clearly been waiting all week for the opportunity to strike without teacher witnesses, attempted to ambush Harry halfway down the train as he made his way back from the toilet. The attack might have succeeded had it not been for the fact that they unwittingly chose to stage the attack right outside a compartment full of DA members, who saw what was happening through the glass and rose as one to rush to Harry's aid. By the time Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot had finished using a wide variety of the hexes and jinxes Harry had taught them, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle resembled nothing so much as three gigantic slugs squeezed into Hogwarts uniform as Harry, Ernie and Justin hoisted them into the luggage rack and left them there to ooze.
Back in their compartment, Harry and Ron were chowing down on some a large pile of cauldron cakes and pumpkin pasties. Hermione was reading the Daily Prophet again, Ginny was doing a quiz in The Quibbler, and Neville was stroking his Mimbulus mimbletonia, which had grown a great deal over the year and now made odd crooning noises when touched.
Harry and Ron spent most of the journey playing wizard chess while Hermione continued to read snippets from the Prophet. The Prophet was now full of articles about repelling Dementors, attempts by the Ministry to track down Death Eaters, and hysterical letters claiming that the writer had seen Lord Voldemort walking past their house that very morning.
"It hasn't really started yet," sighed Hermione gloomily, folding up the newspaper again. "But it won't be long now…"
"Hey, Harry," said Ron softly, nodding towards the glass window into the corridor.
Cho was passing, accompanied by Marietta Edgecombe, who was wearing a balaclava. "What's – er – going on with you and her, anyway?" Ron asked quietly.
"Nothing," said Harry.
"I – er – heard she's going out with someone else now," said Hermione tentatively.
"You're well out of it, mate," said Ron forcefully. "I mean, she's quite good-looking and all that, but you want someone a bit more cheerful."
"She's probably cheerful enough with someone else," said Harry, shrugging.
"Who's she with now, anyway?" Ron asked Hermione, but it was Ginny who answered.
"Michael Corner," she said.
"Michael – but –" said Ron, craning around in his seat to stare at her. "But you were going out with him!"
"Not any more," said Ginny resolutely. "He didn't like Gryffindor beating Ravenclaw at Quidditch, and got really sulky, so I ditched him, and he ran off to comfort Cho instead." She scratched her nose absently with the end of her quill, turned The Quibbler upside-down and began marking her answers. Ron looked highly delighted.
"Well, I always thought he was a bit of an idiot," he said, prodding his queen forward towards Harry's quivering castle. "Good for you. Just choose someone – better – next time."
He cast Harry an oddly furtive look as he said it.
"Well, I've chosen Dean Thomas. Would you say he's better?" asked Ginny vaguely.
"WHAT?" shouted Ron, upending the chessboard: Crookshanks went plunging after the pieces, and Hedwig and Pigwidgeon twittered and hooted angrily from overhead.
As the train slowed down in approaching King's Cross, Hermione and the others got their belongings and pets together in silence. They were all feeling the weight of the year pulling down on them and the uncertainty of the future. Ron helped Hermione get her luggage down from the rack, saving her from an aching rib, yet another thing to try to tell her parents about.
When the ticket inspector signalled to Hermione, Ron, and Harry that it was safe to walk through the magical barrier between platforms nine and ten, a group of people stood there to greet them all.
There was Mad-Eye Moody, looking quite as sinister with his bowler hat pulled low over his magical eye as he would have done without it, his gnarled hands clutching a long staff, his body wrapped in a voluminous travelling cloak. Tonks stood just behind him, her bright bubble-gum-pink hair gleaming in the sunlight filtering through the dirty glass of the station ceiling, wearing heavily patched jeans and a bright purple T-shirt bearing the legend The Weird Sisters. Next to Tonks was Lupin, his face pale, his hair greying, a long and threadbare overcoat covering a shabby jumper and trousers. At the front of the group stood Mr and Mrs Weasley, dressed in their Muggle best, and Fred and George, who were both wearing brand-new jackets in some lurid green, scaly material.
"Ron, Ginny!" called Mrs Weasley, hurrying forward and hugging her children tightly. "Oh, and Harry dear – how are you?"
"Fine," lied Harry as she embraced him tightly. Over her shoulder, he saw Ron goggling at the twins' new clothes.
"What are they supposed to be?" Ron asked, pointing at the jackets.
In the meantime, Mrs Weasley had moved past Harry to Hermione, giving her a tight hug that gave her ribs a twinge. Hermione must have flinched because Mrs Weasley stepped back immediately, apologising.
"Finest dragonskin, little bro'," said Fred, giving his zip a little tweak. "Business is booming, and we thought we'd treat ourselves."
Hermione looked over at Harry, who was embracing Lupin.
"We thought we might have a little chat with your aunt and uncle before letting them take you home," Professor Lupin said with a slight smile.
"I dunno if that's a good idea," said Harry at once.
"Oh, I think it is," growled Moody, who had limped a little closer. "That'll be them, will it, Potter?"
Hermione turned to follow his gaze, but just a few steps in front of the three Dursleys were her parents rushing over with huge smiles on their faces.
They ran at Hermione, embracing her even tighter than Mrs Weasley. "Hermione! We missed you so much!" Mary said.
"Ah, Dr and Dr Granger! So wonderful to see you again!" Mr Weasley said, shaking Bert's hand enthusiastically. "Please excuse me, we must give Harry's, erm, family, a little talking to."
Hermione watched as Mr Weasley and the others strode up to Harry's aunt, uncle, and cousin. She wished she could hear what they were saying, but her parents were evidently not finished hugging her.
"Did you have a good year?" Bert said into Hermione's hair as he hugged her tightly, causing Hermione to wince again.
"Erm, kind of," Hermione said.
"We want to hear all about it," Mary said.
"Really?"
"Yes," Mary said, giving Hermione another hug. "We've realised… this is who you are… and we need to learn all about you because we love you."
"When did all this come about?" Hermione asked, shocked at the reversal.
"I may have had a little visit with them," Mrs Weasley said as she walked over to the Grangers on her way to speak with the Dursleys. "I reckon that if it is difficult as a parent who knows about the wizarding world, it's even more difficult for a parent who has no idea. Now, come on - let's have a row with the Dursleys."
Hermione, her parents, and Mrs Weasley walked closer to the clump of wizards surrounding the Dursleys.
"-any of your business what goes on in my house-" Mr Dursley was saying.
"I expect what you're not aware of would fill several books, Dursley," growled Moody.
"Anyway, that's not the point," interjected Tonks, whose pink hair was most certainly offending Mrs Dursley. "The point is, if we find out you've been horrible to Harry-"
"And, make no mistake, we'll hear about it," added Professor Lupin pleasantly.
"Yes," said Mr Weasley, "even if you won't let Harry use the fellytone-"
"Telephone," whispered Hermione.
"-Yeah, if we get any hint that Potter's been mistreated in any way, you'll have us to answer to," said Moody.
Mr Dursley swelled his chest. "Are you threatening me, sir?" he said so loudly that passers-by actually turned to stare.
"Yes, I am," said Moody, who seemed rather pleased that Mr Dursley had quickly grasped that fact.
"And do I look like the kind of man who can be intimidated?" barked Harry's uncle.
"Well…" said Moody, pushing back his bowler hat to reveal his sinisterly revolving magical eye. Mr Dursley leapt backwards in horror and collided painfully with a luggage trolley. "Yes, I'd have to say you do, Dursley."
He turned to Harry.
"So, Potter… give us a shout if you need us. If we don't hear from you for three days in a row, we'll send someone along… Bye then, Potter," said Moody, grasping Harry's shoulder for a moment.
"Take care, Harry," said Lupin quietly. "Keep in touch."
"Harry, we'll have you away from there as soon as we can," Mrs Weasley said, hugging Harry again.
"We'll see you soon, mate," said Ron anxiously, shaking Harry's hand.
"Really soon, Harry," said Hermione earnestly. "We promise."
Hermione and the others stood on the King's Cross platform, watching Harry disappear into the crowd with the Dursleys.
The platform had grown quieter, save for the chatter of a few lingering families and the rumble of a distant train. Hermione's parents were standing a little ways off, looking slightly out of place amidst the wizards and witches saying their goodbyes. They watched her with warm smiles, but Hermione could see the worry in their eyes—no matter what Mrs Weasley could possibly say to ease Bert and Mary's fears, Hermione knew they'd always be there under the surface.
The Weasleys, Lupin, Tonks, and Moody were gathered nearby, discussing plans for the summer and exchanging well wishes. Hermione knew it was time to say her goodbyes, too, but her heart felt heavy with the weight of everything that had happened. She had spent so much of the year fighting alongside these people, and now, stepping away from them felt like stepping into the unknown.
She took a deep breath and approached Mrs Weasley first, who enveloped her in a warm, motherly hug. "Take care of yourself, dear," Mrs Weasley said, her voice full of affection. "And don't hesitate to write if you need anything. You're always welcome at The Burrow, you know that."
"Thank you, Mrs Weasley," Hermione replied, her voice slightly muffled against Mrs Weasley's shoulder. "I'll miss you all."
After exchanging quick, warm goodbyes with Mr Weasley, Ginny, Tonks, and Lupin, Hermione turned to Moody, who gave her a brisk nod and a gruff, "Keep practising, Granger. Constant vigilance."
Hermione smiled, though she couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated by his intense gaze. "I will, Professor."
Finally, she turned to Ron, who was standing a little apart from the others, shuffling his feet and looking slightly awkward. Hermione felt a sudden rush of nervousness, her heart beating a little faster as she approached him. This was it—the moment she had been both anticipating and dreading.
"Ron…" she began, her voice faltering slightly as she met his eyes.
"Er, Hermione…" Ron started at the same time, his ears turning a shade of red that Hermione had come to know well. They both paused, an awkward silence settling between them, and Hermione couldn't help but feel the tension in the air.
After a moment, Ron cleared his throat and took a step closer. "So, uh… I guess this is it, then. For the summer, I mean."
"Yeah," Hermione said softly, her fingers twisting nervously in the strap of her bag. "I guess it is."
They stood there, neither quite knowing what to say next. The usual banter that flowed so easily between them seemed to have vanished, replaced by an awkwardness that neither of them could quite name.
"Listen, Hermione…" Ron began again, his voice a little more serious this time. He glanced over at her parents, who were still watching from a distance, then back at her. "I just… I wanted to say… I'm really glad you're my… friend. You've always been there, you know? Through everything. And… I don't think I ever said it properly, but… thanks. For everything."
Hermione felt her throat tighten with emotion. There was something more profound in Ron's voice than the usual teasing or bickering, and it made her heart ache in a way she didn't quite understand. "I'm glad you're my friend too, Ron," she managed to say, her voice thick. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
Ron's face softened, and for a moment, Hermione thought he might say something more that would finally clear up the confusing feelings that had been growing between them all year. But then, just as quickly, the moment passed. Ron glanced away, his usual awkwardness returning as he shifted on his feet.
"Well… I suppose I'll see you soon, then," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.
Hermione nodded, though she couldn't shake the feeling of something unfinished between them. "Yeah… soon."
They hesitated, both of them lingering for just a moment longer. And then, without quite knowing how it happened, they moved toward each other in a quick, awkward hug. It was over almost as soon as it began, but it left Hermione's heart fluttering and her mind spinning.
As she pulled away, she caught a glimpse of something in Ron's eyes—something that made her chest tighten with hope and confusion all at once. But before she could dwell on it, Ron stepped back, giving her a goofy grin.
"Take care, Hermione," he said, his voice warm despite the awkwardness. "And don't worry about your parents. They'll come around."
Hermione smiled, grateful for the reassurance. "Thanks, Ron. You too."
With one last look, Ron turned and rejoined his family, leaving Hermione standing there with a swirl of emotions she couldn't quite sort through. As she watched him go, she couldn't help but wonder what had just happened between them—what that look in his eyes had meant and whether they would ever figure it out.
As they made their way out of the station, Hermione cast one last glance back at the Weasleys. Ron was standing with his family, but she noticed that his eyes flickered toward her, just for a second, before he turned back to the conversation.
It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep her mind spinning, even as she walked away, her hand tightly held by her mother.
What had that look meant? Was there something more between them, something they hadn't yet put into words? Or was she just reading too much into it, letting her heart get ahead of her head?
"Oh, bloody hell," Hermione murmured under her breath.