CHAPTER 3 - BROOMSTICKS

The train pulled into the station at Devon in the late afternoon. Hermione stretched liberally and shook off the tiredness in her limbs. She gathered the books that had been sprawled out around her on the seats and deposited them in her beaded pouch, careful that no other passengers were looking her way. The platform was quiet, only a few people coming and going from the station. Her trunk, ever precarious, tumbled as Hermione attempted to drag it from the train. Crookshanks let out a hiss as his cage rattled and Hermione cooed an apology. She righted herself and began looking around when she heard a familiar voice.

"Hermione!" She followed the voice to find Mr. Weasley waving at her a few yards away. He was wearing bright orange robes that clashed frighteningly with his hair. Hermione winced as the station's patrons stared at the teenage girl approaching this strange man. She hurried herself over to where he was standing.

"Hello Mr. Weasley", she breathed.

"Let me take that Hermione", he said, reaching for her trunk, "Why don't you take Crookshanks, and I'll take this". Hermione offered Mr. Weasley the handle of her trunk and lifted up Crookshank's cage. He led her through the station, but not out of it. They turned down what appeared to be a service corridor and came to a blank wall. Mr. Weasley pulled out his wand and with a swift motion a wooden door materialised in the wall. He opened the door and gestured for Hermione to go through. In the room was a solitary fireplace.

"Floo network", Mr. Weasley explained. He summoned a pouch of Floo Powder with his wand and held it out to Hermione.

"You and Crookshanks first," he insisted. Hermione took a handful of dust and stepped into the fireplace.

"The Burrow" she enunciated carefully. She'd not yet been mis transported by Floo due to pronunciation error and she wasn't inclined to do so for the first time today. The green flames engulfed her, and she felt herself swirling. Crookshank's let out a disapproving meow. She felt the unpleasant sensation of twisting and turning through floo fire but soon the flames cleared and she found herself in the Burrow's living room. She stepped out of the fireplace dusting herself off. With a click Crookshanks was free from his cage and began appreciatively rolling over at her feet. She pulled out her wand, feeling the balance of it in her hand, really feeling it, allowing the magic to crackle down her arm. She sent sparks into the air left and right. A little gasp of joy escaped her.

"Hermione!" She turned toward the voice, wand in hand. At the bottom of the stairs stood Ron. He was taller than the last time she had seen him, his freckles were darker just as hers were, presumably from time spent in the sun over summer. Loose navy robe pants covered his lower half, but he wore a muggle t-shirt. His feet were bare, and his hair fell in loose waves around his ears. He closed the distance between them in two long strides and swept her up into a hug with one arm, lifting her feet off the ground. He smelt strongly of spearmint. When he released her Hermione realised he was holding a toothbrush in one hand. She gave him a quizzical look. Ron looked at his toothbrush and then back at her a light blush coming to his cheeks.

"Err, sorry, let me just put this back", he said sheepishly. He darted back up the stairs. More redheads appeared in the Burrow's living room as Ginny bounded into Hermione's embrace. Mr. Weasley stepped through the fireplace with Hermione's trunk and with a flick of his wrist sent it up to Ginny's room. When Ron returned Hermione had been carted off the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley had pushed a cup of tea into her hand and started asking her questions about her summer and how she was feeling about her OWLs, and which subjects she was going to take this year. Ginny interrupted with her own stories about the summer so far. Ron settled into the seat across from Hermione and between the barrage of conversation Hermione found her eyes more often than not seeking Ron's blue ones.

After dinner, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny settled in Ginny's room. A breeze waved lightly through the window cooling Hermione's slightly dewy skin. She pointed her wand at the glass in front of her on the floor and began to transfigure it, first into a mirror, then a watch, then a coin, absentmindedly casting spells as Ginny launched into a tangent about the Weasleys newest house guest: Fleur Delacour.

"You know the first thing she said to me is that I look so nice in green!" Ginny said with horror, "She turns up at the Hospital Wing to see me with Mum and Dad and the only thing she can say to her future sister-in-law is that the hospital gown is flattering on me?!"

Hermione made an appalled face and continued flicking her wand at the glass, which was currently a small toy train. Ron piped up,

"I don't know Gin, maybe she was trying to be nice?" Hermione looked up to see Ginny roll her eyes.

"You would say that wouldn't you Ron? Phlegm can do no wrong in your eyes!" Accused Ginny. Hermione shot Ron a dark look. Ron raised his hands defensively.

"All I'm saying is that you shouldn't ignore good advice".

"Oh, so maybe I should start wearing Slytherin colours then, if they're so flattering", teased Ginny, "maybe I find a nice Slytherin boy to snog so I can steal his tie? What do you think Ron, I'm a pureblood, maybe I've got a good shot with Draco Malfoy?" Ron made a horrified expression.

"You're terrible Gin", he said. Ginny laughed wildly. Hermione grimaced with her own disgust. The wind rustled the yellow curtains framing the window. Ron looked over at Hermione where she was continuing to rapidly transfigure her cup.

"What are you doing? We didn't have transfiguration homework over the summer, right?" He asked. Hermione looked up at the two Weasley faces. She frowned.

"Well, it's not like I've been allowed to do any magic all summer. It's been weeks! Nothing changes when you come home - you can still do magic. But for me, when I go home, it all stops. I haven't got to practice anything, no transfiguration, no potions, and no defensive spells", she trailed off, "No defensive spells", she repeated quietly and then in a whisper, "even after what happened, I just had to go home and be a Muggle". She looked away from her friends in a strange kind of shame. Like she was reminding them of some great flaw that they had overlooked. Ginny got up and moved over to Hermione, wrapping her arms around her shoulders.

"Oh Hermione", hushed Ginny. Hermione lent her head against Ginny's shoulder.

"Have you heard from Harry?" Asked Ron quietly. Hermione shrugged.

"I sent him something for his birthday of course, but that's all", said Hermione, "how about you?"

"Not much", replied Ron, "Dad didn't want me sending too many letters in case they were intercepted".

"That makes sense". Suddenly, Hermione had an anxious realisation. "Actually Ron, can I borrow Pig? I forgot I said I would send my parents an owl when I arrived so they know I got here safely, they'll be so worried, I can't believe I forgot!"

Hermione scribbled a quick note on some parchment Ron found for her in one of the kitchen drawers. She apologised to her parents for the lateness of the note and told them she had arrived safely at the Burrow. She let Ron attach the note to the little owl before they went out the back door and watched Pigwiddeon fly off into the night sky. It was cooler outside than in the house. The dark blue sky stretched in every direction around them dotted with thousands of bright stars. The moon was a sliver of white in the distance.

"It's beautiful", said Hermione, feeling the hairs on her arms stand up in the cool breeze. Hermione began to point out various constellations that had appeared on the O. . She pointed to Orion and Cassiopeia, Aquarius and Gemini. The names of the stars in each constellation came easily and she rambled them off one by one.

"Bloody hell Hermione, I wasn't worried about my Astronomy O.W.L until now", complained Ron. Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile. It felt like all she did was worry.

"I'm sure you did alright. There's so much to remember I'm not sure I even did. Aquarius was so difficult to see that night and I didn't adequately explain the defeat of the Chimera by Pegasus", Hermione began to feel panic rising. "Oh God, I should've studied more!"

Ron gave her a doubtful look. He pointed to a cluster of stars.

"That's the Big Dipper, right?" He asked. Oh goodness.

"You didn't write that down on your exam Ron, did you?" Hermione said aghast.

"Err yeah, why?" He asked sheepishly.

"Oh Ronald, the Big Dipper is not a constellation asterism within the constellation of Ursa Major. Callisto is the Ursa Major, transformed by Zeus and her son, Arcas is the Ursa Minor. See there in the up-turned tail", she said pointing to the small bear in the sky, "it contains the North Star, Polaris, Ron, we studied this!" Ron looked sulky. He scuffed his foot against the dry earth.

"Well, with any luck You Know Who will appear just in time to cancel our exams this year", Ron said, though the sarcasm didn't quite come through. Hermione frowned.

"Do you think that will happen? There's no way the Death Eaters can get into Hogwarts, right?" She asked.

"I dunno", replied Ron, "it didn't matter last year, we went to them". There was a pause. Hermione couldn't help but laugh. It had been absurd in hindsight for them to run off to the Department of Mysteries when Harry had had the vision of Sirius being tortured. The laugh crackled in her throat and threatened to become tears. She looked at Ron. Ron looked at her.

"We cannot let Harry do something like that again", she stated.

"Too bloody right", agreed Ron. They were standing close together now, shoulders almost touching. She looked up at him, she watched him lick his lips, his eyes travelled back and forth across her face.

"He doesn't have any family left, not really", Hermione whispered.

"He has us", replied Ron.

"Yeah, he has his friends", Hermione got quieter.

"Yeah, friends", echoed Ron, his eyes seem to mirror the night sky, dark, blue, flecked with starlight.

"We all need each other", she said, and she thought Ron angled his head slightly towards her.

"It's good to see you Hermione", whispered Ron and she could taste the words. She felt herself get warm, her stomach swirling, her breath hitched in her throat, and she waited. Time seemed to stretch out and Hermione thought she might suffocate in the summer air.

Cold air rushed into her lungs as he stepped away bringing a hand up to rub his neck.

"It's late", he said, turning to face the Burrow.

"Yeah", said Hermione, feeling herself flush, "erm, I should get to bed". She hurried past Ron and into the house. She was stupid. The back of her throat stung as she tried to quash her tears. This was so stupid. The Dark Lord had returned, Harry had lost his Godfather, Muggleborns were in danger and here she was crying about Ronald Weasley not kissing her. She lectured herself all the way back to Ginny's room, resolving that tomorrow she would focus on catching up on weeks of practice for the upcoming year. Hermione slipped into the extra bed in Ginny's room and muttered goodnight to the redheaded witch.

She awoke early the next morning. The Burrow was quiet, the air already warm. Another hot summer day. In the kitchen Hermione made herself a cup of coffee, the magic way. She normally wouldn't but after weeks without using her magic she was revelling in using her wand. The Burrow had many rooms, but this morning Hermione was on a mission to find an unoccupied one. The same corridor that led to where Ron slept also led to Fred and George's old bedroom. Hermione eased the door open carefully fearing the twin's proclivity for tricks and traps - but nothing jumped out at her. Inside the musky room there were wooden crates containing various gizmos and waz gigs all branded with what Hermione assumed was the logo for the twin's new joke shop. She closed the door and cast a silencing charm. With a wave of her wand, she transfigured an empty box into a book stand. She levitated her books onto the stand and began flicking through the pages. Fire charms, concealing charms, featherlight charms and levitation charms were her warm ups. Over the next hour or so continued through protective charms, disarming charms, and revealing charms. She resized boxes, transfigured them into tools, clothes, crockery, and ornaments. Each time she repeated an incantation she waited with bated breath for this to be the time her magic failed. Every summer the same fear crept in, that she'd pick up her wand at the end of the break and find her magic lost, and every summer she threw herself into textbooks to reassure herself that magic was real and to ensure she didn't lose her skills. Mostly, it worked to quell the anxiety. But it was no replacement for how her wand felt in her hand. At a certain point every in every incantation the words and wand movements blurred into something much more primal. Each time Hermione cast a spell it felt like a cresting wave as the components of the spell became a mere extension of herself. It wasn't the expelliarmus charm anymore, it was her very will reaching out to disarm her opponent, to shift her opponent's energy in her favour.

She was flushed and panting as she finished a set of defensive spells that Harry had taught them as part of the DA. She flicked her hand towards the window and it popped open with a click letting in a small breeze. The sweat dripped from her brow. Hermione steadied herself, she wanted to confirm she still could produce a patronus. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to cast any worry from her mind. Banishing the worries about Voldemort, or Harry, or her parents or her OWLs results. In her mind's eye she was in her family's kitchen, she had just received her Hogwarts letter, hand delivered by Professor McGonnagall. She was ecstatic. Finally, she had a place in the world and on top of that magic was real! Hermione inhaled and spoke the incantation. Her breath caught between the end of the incantation and the moment a silver otter burst from the tip on her wand. She let out a gleeful laugh as the otter swam around the room. It dived out the open window and Hermione ran over to watch it. The ephemeral otter was dazzling in the sunlight as the creature looped toward the field below. Hermione realised a lanky figure was out in the grass. Freckled pale skin shone in the morning sun and Hermione realised Ron was in the garden pushing what looked like a muggle lawn mower. Hermione blushed as she observed Ron pushing the mower, he was shirtless and his red hair was stuck to the back of his neck. The smell of fresh cut grass filled her nostrils. She should look away. As if willed by her the spectral otter swam its way over towards Ron. Hermione scrambled to drop the spell but it was too late. Her patronus all but crashed into Ron's face and he cocked his head to the side as the creature approached. He spun around in the direction the creature had come from. Their eyes met and Hermione smiled sheepishly at him before disappearing behind the window.

Hermione picked at a sandwich as she sat at the Weasley table. She flipped through her ancient runes textbook, noting the runes she needed to revise before term started. She heard them before she saw them, rumbling in the distance as four Weasley's barged into the kitchen. Fred, George, Ron and Ginny appeared in an assortment of red and gold ragged robes.

"Miss Granger, that'll be ten points from Gryffindor", admonished Fred.

"For studying outside of term", continued George, "not a sadder sight in the history of magic". Hermione smiled up at the twins.

"Hello Fred, hello George. Congratulations on the shop, I can't wait to see it!" Fred produced a small packet from his robes and held it out to Hermione.

"Free sample, on us, for putting up with Ron all these years", he said smoothly. Ron scowled. Hermione turned the package over in her hands. It was only branded with the Weasley Wizard Wheezes emblem.

"What is it?" Asked Hermione.

"New product. Patented daydream charm, thirty-minute daydreams guaranteed, perfect for tuning out annoying gits like Ron. Let us know what you think!" Said George.

"How does it work?" Asked Hermione incredulously.

"Ah, well, it's patented isn't it, we can't reveal trade secrets", Fred winked at her before stepping out the back door, George followed his brother.

"We're going to play some Quidditch, you should come and play!" Said Ginny. Hermione opened her mouth to answer but Ron interjected.

"No Gin, Hermione doesn't fly, it's the one thing she can't do" Ginny frowned.

"Ron we're not playing a full game just tossing a Quaffle around and if you want to make the team this year Merlin knows you need all the practice you can get", Ginny said teasingly. Hermione wanted to practice. She'd been thinking it might be time to try flying again, what if she needed to use a broom in the future.

"Actually I-", Ron interrupted before she could finish.

"Hermione's rubbish at flying though, she can't fly and throw a Quaffle at the same time. I need practice at keeping not practise at rescuing someone who's falling off a broom that's only two feet off the ground". Hermione looked down at her hands that were tensed into fists. Ginny stared at Ron as he strode towards the door that led to the garden. She sighed and picked up her broom from where it was resting by the door. As she left the kitchen she spoke to Hermione in a low voice.

"Don't worry, Fred, George and me will take him down a peg or two. Bloody prick", she disappeared outside.

Hermione watched them from the kitchen window. Unable to go back to her ancient runes. They kicked off the ground and began tossing the Quaffle between them. Hermione tried to watch their movements, make sense of what their bodies were doing to the broom. It seemed so natural when they did it. In first year, Hermione had read every book on offer in the Hogwarts library about broom riding. But it hadn't helped in the slightest. Hermione had technically failed flying class, but Madam Hooch had passed her conditionally when she turned in a long essay on the physics of flying. She'd never told anyone. Frustrated, Hermione snatched up her books and the silver packet the twin's had given her and darted up the stairs.

The Weasley's had a small mustard yellow tub in the main bathroom. Hermione turned the taps on with a flick of her wand as she quickly shirked her clothes off with frustration. In one swift motion she locked the door, shuttered the small window, allowing only small streaks of light to dance about in the rising steam. She sank into the warm water. It was too hot for summer, and she adjusted the taps until cool freshness ebbed against her skin. The enamel of the bathtub was cold against her neck, and she let out a little sigh of relief. The little silver packet floated through the air towards her. She caught it and set down her wand on the bath's edge. The foil tore apart to reveal a little white, shimmery pellet. It smelled minty. As a prefect she had constantly been confiscating Weasley Wizard Wheezes and whilst some products were a true danger to students more often than not Hermione had been impressed by the spell work the twins had conducted. Before she could second guess herself too much, she popped the pellet into her mouth. It dissolved on her tongue and the powdery tab gave way to a marshmallow-like texture that melted in her mouth. Her head began to feel heavy, and it briefly crossed her mind that the bathtub may have not been the wisest setting for this experiment.

The grounds were foggy. Green grass extended all around Hermione. Large towers loomed in the distance but obscured by the mist. Were they buildings? Hermione was not sure. She walked towards the shapes turning her eyes up to the grey sky above. The air was cool and crisp and stung just the tiniest bit against her throat. She began to make out a chequered pattern in the shadows of the towers. The Quidditch pitch, she realised, that was where she was.

"Granger", a voice rang out across the field. Hermione couldn't place the voice. She looked around but there was only mist. A shiver ran up her spine. She waited for the voice to come again but the only sound was the wind howling around the stands of the pitch. Her back began to feel warm, and she realised she could no longer feel the wind against her coat. Someone was right behind her. She attempted to twist around to see who had joined her on the pitch but found herself unable. The warmth increased when a hand came to rest on her hip. Her companion was now pressed up against her back. She gasped and looked down at her waist. Long, pale fingers were spread slowly across her waist. They pressed into her and pushed her against the warmth. The figure produced a broom stick in his other hand, holding it out in front of her.

"Oh no, I don't fly", protested Hermione.

"What kind of witch doesn't fly?" Teased the voice. The broomstick nudged her leg.

"This kind", said Hermione.

"Come on Granger, it's in your blood", Hermione felt the fingers on her waist descend and dig into her hip playfully. Hermione felt her breath quicken.

"It's just - I'm not very good. I'm terrible, a danger really. It won't be fun at all; I'll just be a hazard". The hand of her companion snaked around her waist pulling her flush. When the voice came again it was softer.

"Hermione, it's okay. I have got you, you will not fall", she felt the whisper on the shell of her ear. "Trust me", the voice reiterated. Hermione took a deep breath and slowly nodded. She lifted one leg and straddled the broom. Her hands were guided to the mahogany wood, and she felt a body slide in behind her.

"Alright", whispered the voice in her ear, "here we go".

She leaned forward as he leaned against her. Her feet lifted from the ground. She shut her eyes tightly as they darted forward. The wind began to rush past her face, blowing her curls astray and tickling the exposed parts of her skin. Her knuckles were white against the broomstick. They were gaining height, but her stomach was dropping. They climbed higher and higher, the warmth of his body contrasting the cold wind.

"Open your eyes Hermione", encouraged the voice. The broom levelled; they came to an equilibrium in the air, hovering. Hermione felt untethered and as she forced her eyes open, immediately feeling as if she was going to sway off the broom. She had never been so high. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the light. All around them was mist, she could only just make out the green grass below them and the stature of the castle in the distance. It was beautiful. The sunlight shimmered through the air, a thousand tiny spectral flecks dancing in the wind around them.

"Hold on", said the voice and the broom moved forward. Hermione let out a small squeal as they picked up speed. They were going faster and faster and Hermione began to shake. She felt a hand return to her waist and hold her tightly. She felt the rider pull up on the broom with his other arm and she realised he was going to loop the broom.

"No!" She screamed, but it was too late, they were gaining height, and she was squealing as they turned upside down. Her companion laughed joyfully behind her. It was over before she knew it. As they righted themselves, she breathed a shaky laugh which slowly built to a hysterical giggle. They began a large circle around the Quidditch pitch at a slightly lower altitude. Hermione relaxed somewhat, that was until she felt his fingers sweep the curls off her neck. She shivered. The hand snaked back down to her waist, and she felt his hot breath just below her ear. She gasped as she felt warm lips press against her pulse point. His fingers splayed out against her torso pressing her back into him. He was so warm. She let out a small moan as she felt kisses being dotted down her neck. In response she was treated to a low groan from her co-rider. He trailed kisses up and down her neck. Hermione threw her head back against his shoulder. Her hips moved involuntarily forward on the broom, and she felt it sway in the air.

"Woah Granger", her partner chuckled, balancing the broom, "you're going to have to stay a bit more still than that".

She felt the hand on her waist inch downwards. "If you want some relief, all you need to do is ask", came the voice, warm, wanting. Hermione felt no fear as she took one hand off the broom and laid it on top of the hand on her waist.

"Please", she whined as she guided the hand to where she needed it. A low rumble echoed in her ear. She felt the hand slide down her waist and she gasped as fingertips pressed against her centre through her jeans. Hermione felt increasingly hot across her skin. The kisses resumed on her neck, occasionally becoming nips that made her squeak. She felt pressure building as fingertips pressed in slow circles below her waist. Hermione tried to stay still, gripping the broom tightly to steady herself. The circling increased as her breaths came quicker. Her eyes shut and it made her dizzy. It felt like she was definitely going to fall off the broom. But somehow this made it all the more exhilarating. The lightest kiss, the gentle touch sent electricity running over her skin. She cried out in pleasure and her partner's groans became louder and more fierce. She tensed against the broom, becoming rigid. Her eyes squeezed tight, and her breaths came quickly. It was all becoming too much, too quickly. She whimpered as the circles became deliciously quicker and more decisive. Her muscles tightened. It felt so good. Her eyes closed; her head thrown back.

"That's it", the voice whispered in her ear.. Hermione felt the hand come up to her jaw and tilt her head. She opened her eyes and saw stormy eyes looking back at her, but only fleetingly.

Hermione gasped as the Burrow's yellow bathroom tiles came back into view. The bathwater swelled as she slipped around in the tub finding her bearings. Well, that was certainly a strong charm. Fred and George were lucky they had not been producing these during their sixth year. Hermione would have had to outright report them to McGonagall instead of just confiscating them. She picked up the wrapper again and inspected it. No warnings, she thought to herself with an eye roll. Were these really appropriate for a joke shop? Hermione sunk back into the water. Her skin still felt electric, her muscles felt all loose. She watched the sunlight poking through the shutters. It was golden and swirling like the Quidditch pitch had been. She certainly hadn't expected that. It wasn't like she had never had daydreams like that before. But this was so realistic, well, except for the part where she was flying on the Quidditch pitch. Usually, thoughts like those never went that far. She felt herself shiver. The dreamed touches lingered on her body. Who had been her companion? Maybe the daydream charms were preprogrammed to be faceless? That would make sense from a business point of view, she thought. Her musings were interrupted by a pounding on the door. Shit, thought Hermione. How long had Fred said the charm lasted for?

"Come on Granger, some of us need a shower", came the voice of one of the twins. Hermione jumped out of the bath and cast a quick drying charm. She threw on her clothes haphazardly.

"Coming!" She yelled as she tugged at her shirt. Her eyes caught her face in the mirror, she was pink, flushed and her curls were everywhere. With a huff she wrenched open the bathroom door and came to eye level with red quidditch robes. She looked up to see the smiling face of Fred Weasley looking at her.

"Sorry", she mumbled as she scooted under his arm and into the hallway.

"No worries, Granger", he replied.

"Uh, Fred, are those day-dream charms, err, do you and George pre-write them? They seem to be really, uh, complex magic" She felt herself flush further. Fred looked back at her, and his friendly smile transformed into a nefarious smirk.

"Not the case Hermione, they simply hijack and enhance whatever the witch or wizard already has floating around in there", he pointed to his head with his wand.

"Oh", said Hermione. She fiddled with the bottom of her shirt.

"You enjoyed it then? The product?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"Uh, yes", she paused and then added, "Thanks", before turning around and scurrying away. She heard Fred chuckle before he shut the bathroom door.

Hermione spent the afternoon in her books. She was becoming increasingly anxious about receiving her O.W.L results. She'd asked the twins what time of day they had received their results but to her frustration they couldn't remember. Ron proposed they play a game of wizard's chess to distract them, and this caused Hermione to blow up at him yelling:

"Ron, I hate wizard's chess, and if you think you're going to be able to distract me you're wrong! O.W.L results are coming, and I cannot relax until I know what classes I will be taking this year!" Ron had rolled his eyes.

"You're joking! You really think you're going to do so badly you won't be eligible to take a class? Blimey, maybe we do need to get you checked in the head", he spat. Hermione grumbled and turned back to her books. Ron also grumbled, but instead of leaving, as Hermione expected, he'd settled in beside her at the table and began flipping through a Quidditch magazine.

Harry arrived after they had gone to bed. Mrs. Weasley had informed them the next morning after they'd sat down. Her and Ron had raced upstairs to find him. In the rush, Hermione had forgotten to remind Ron to be tactful about Sirius. Harry may not be ready to talk about it. Hermione felt her heart thumping against her ribs when she laid eyes on Harry's sleeping form. He'd been through so much and now Skeeter was writing about whether he was the Chosen One, and they were about to find out their O.W.L results, and he was probably in love with Ginny, Merlin knows how Ron was going to react to that when it eventually came out and of course, he'd lost Sirius. She stood back as Ron woke Harry up.

Once awake, Harry caught them up to speed on his summer holidays. Most notably, his detour with Professor Dumbledore to meet the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor: Professor Slughorn, and the news of his future lessons with the headmaster. Hermione's stomach turned when Harry confirmed that what the Prophet was reporting was true: he was the Chosen One. In her distress she had squeezed the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes telescope she was holding in her hands and had earned herself a black eye.

She was so relieved that Dumbledore would be giving Harry private lessons. Harry would be safe with Dumbledore's instruction. Well as safe as he could be for failing to mention that their O.W.L results would be arriving today. She'd barely had time to process the news when she saw the owls swooping towards the Burrow's kitchen window. Hermione knew she should be pleased with nine "Outstandings", but her lips only pulled into a half-smile when Ron and Harry congratulated her. As the rest of them ate breakfast she took some parchment to copy down her grades. She folded her letter inside a copy of yesterday's Prophet which she had redacted and sent it off to her parents. She enjoyed the rest of the day with Harry, Ron and Ginny, despite the fact that nothing Mrs Wealsey had tried had removed her black eye. If Fred and George had been home she would've cursed them. The four of them shared dinner together with Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley was working late again, and afterwards played a few rounds of exploding snap. Only once she was tucked into bed did she withdraw her wand to cast a quiet muffliato spell in order to let out a few tears over her "Exceeds Expectations'' result in Defence Against the Dark Arts.