Hermione
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The sentence Draco had just uttered had an immediate effect: it cut off Hermione's breathing, as if it had sucked all the air out of her lungs. She opened her eyes wide, unable to utter the slightest response.
Draco took advantage of her shock to continue his tirade:
"Earlier you asked me why I thought all the boys around you had feelings for you. I don't think, Granger, I know. I know because I'm just like them. The Library table, the bench, the arguments, my constellation, my jealousy at the Ball... It's all because I'm in love with you."
Hearing him say it a second time was still as surprising as ever. Draco had no trouble saying it, as if it was something he'd gotten used to a long time ago.
He continued in a more serious tone:
"But I know it's not right. I know I shouldn't, and that we can never be together. That's why I was scared when I got the letter from my dad, that's why I'm trying to protect you. I don't want anyone to know how I feel about you. I didn't want to tell you, but I want you to know because I want you to understand what's at stake."
The words raced through Hermione's brain, but she was too shocked to understand them immediately. She had never heard anyone confess their feelings for her like that. She'd never thought it would come as such a surprise. Perhaps because the person confessing them was her sworn enemy of all time... Who wasn't really her enemy anymore.
She blinked several times. Draco was still holding her hands between his, running his finger over her skin in a reassuring gesture.
"Granger, you need to listen to me." he said seriously, as if she wasn't already paying extreme attention to his every word. "What I've just told you doesn't have to change anything between us. I don't want you to see me any differently. I know you want us to be friends, to confide in each other and all that. And I'm fine with that. How I feel about you is my problem. I'm working on myself not to let it affect your life. I know you're in love with Weasley..."
"I don't..."
"Stop it, Granger," he said with a sad little smile. "I know you are. It's so obvious. I've made my peace with it. I just wanted you to know. But I don't want it to stop you studying with me and talking to me on our bench. I'd rather be your friend than nothing. And most of all, I don't want to talk about it again. I've said it and we're moving on. I don't want any... Grangerian curiosity about it. I want you to act like I didn't say anything, okay?"
Why were his eyes so grey? If they weren't so mesmerising, she could think of an appropriate answer. She could stop gawking and come up with an intelligent retort. Instead, she had to take a few seconds to look away from him and concentrate on what he'd just said.
He didn't want any questions, but she was dying to ask some. When had this happened? What had made him realise it? Was it before or after his fit of jealousy at the Ball? Who had he told? Were Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini talking about the girl Draco Malfoy was in love with in the Slytherin Common Room? Why was he afraid of his father's letter? What did he mean by "work on myself so it doesn't affect your life"?
"Granger?"
She returned her gaze to Draco's - grey, mesmerising. It was hard to think when he was looking at her like that.
"I want to talk about it." she said in a voice that wasn't quite assertive enough.
Draco shook his head:
"No."
"You said I had unlimited questions." she pointed.
"Not about this. Sorry Granger, I can't. It's too risky."
"What's risky?"
"Telling you is already risky." Draco said firmly. "But I preferred to tell you where I stood, rather than leave you in the dark. If you think my feelings could be dangerous for you, I'd understand if you wanted to cut ties."
"Wha...? No, no, I don't want to cut ties!" Hermione exclaimed, scandalised by this turn of events. "Just let me... Can you give me some time to think about it?"
"You don't have to think about it." he replied. "If you're fine with us being friends, that's good enough for me. We don't need to talk about it anymore."
"I think we need to talk about this, Draco." she said. Talking about Draco's romantic feelings with Draco was very strange. "I feel like I'm in a good position to..."
"No, Granger."
He abruptly let go of her hands, which fell miserably on her thighs. She'd gotten so used to that contact that removing it was almost painful. He was pulling away from her, physically and emotionally: his pupils were already closing. He put back on the cold marble mask that masked his feelings.
"I've already told you: I don't want to talk about it." he said in an emotionless voice. "You know now, it's done. You're going to meet Weasley at his house and I'll see you at the start of term, having forgotten this conversation, all right? Now explain to me what those boys are doing over there."
Draco pointed at something and Hermione slowly turned her head to see what he was talking about.
"The football match?"
"Football? Is that the Muggle equivalent of Quidditch?"
Hermione explained in a blank voice what football was, and Draco listened intently, not for a second showing what he had just done on his face. But Hermione's heart was still pounding against her ribcage, and every time she turned her head towards him, it sped up even more.
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.
They spent the better part of the afternoon together. After the park, they strolled through the surrounding streets, Hermione explaining in a low voice everything Draco didn't understand. She told him about advertisements, churches, the telephone, Muggle fashion, but despite all the explanations, Hermione was always somewhere else. She was still on the lawn in the park, replaying Draco's confession in her head. He'd moved on so quickly after insisting he'd never mention it again that Hermione suspected her brain had made it all up.
His face said nothing. He had gone back to being completely normal, as if nothing had happened, which worried Hermione even more. But she didn't dare bring it up again for fear of making him grumpy.
"What time do your parents get home from work?" he asked, looking into the window of a clothes shop with a puzzled expression on his face.
"Around 6:30." Hermione replied, looking at her watch. "In an hour."
Draco shifted his gaze from the case to her watch and frowned. Muggle watches were very different from wizard watches: they had numbers around the dial, which seemed to intrigue Draco enormously. But he made no comment, and nodded instead:
"Right. I should go anyway."
"How are you going to get home?" asked Hermione.
He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out two notes and some coins.
"Will this be enough to get back to Diagon Alley?" he asked, looking at the coins.
"Yes, more than enough." Hermione said with a small smile. "Even in the Muggle world, you're richer than me."
He grinned and put the coins back in his pocket. He looked around, perhaps looking for a train station, but Hermione didn't want him to leave just yet. It was the first time she'd been able to see him for so long without having to go back to the Common Room or wondering if people could see them. And the time had passed so quickly, the afternoon had flown by in a matter of minutes.
"Let's walk a bit more, shall we?" she said lightly. "Do you have time?"
Draco hesitated, but finally offered her his arm. They walked side by side, arms intertwined, through the streets of London. No one looked at them, here. They looked like a couple and no one paid them the slightest attention. It was a pleasant change, it relieved her of a burden, of the need to hide when she was with him. Hermione got the feeling that Draco liked it too, because he tightened his grip on her so that she moved closer to him.
"Where do the Weasleys live, anyway?" asked Draco after a few minutes of walking.
"Ottery St Catchpole, in Devon."
"And why do you call it the Burrow?" he said with a hint of disgust in his voice.
"It's what Ron's family call their house." Hermione explained. "I think it's because it's always full of people. I mean, with all the Weasleys, Harry, me and all the people who come over from the Ministry, or relatives... It's crawling with people all the time. It's the warmest house I know." she added softly.
"Oh." he said simply, lost in thought.
Hermione glanced sideways at Draco: he was looking down the street, but his eyes were a little lost. She wondered if he was thinking about the lack of warmth in his big, cold Manor.
He focused again and continued his interrogation:
"How are you going to get there? It's a trot from London."
"Probably by Knight Bus, like last time." she said with a shrug.
This time, Draco stopped to look at her. Several passers-by almost bumped into him on the pavement.
"What?" she said, trying to get him to move.
"You've been on the Knight Bus before?" he asked, surprised.
"Yes, last year. Draco, you're in the way!"
He noticed the irritated passers-by and continued on his way, still looking at her curiously.
"Why are you so surprised?" she asked with a smile.
"I... I've never taken the Knight Bus before." he said flatly.
"Oh." Hermione said in surprise. "Well, I wouldn't recommend it. It shakes a lot."
But Draco was still looking at her insistently. She turned to him and asked in a more annoyed tone:
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Nothing. I'm just amazed at how... resourceful you are."
"You took the Muggle tube all by yourself and managed to find me in London." she pointed out. "You're the resourceful one."
He smiled proudly at the compliment. They passed a building with a huge clock in front of it. Draco dropped his smile when he realised what time it was.
"I'd better get back." he said wistfully. "If my elf doesn't meet me in Diagon Alley, I could be in trouble."
"All right." she said, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. "I'll take you to the nearest station."
She walked on, dragging Draco with her, leading him to Hampstead tube station.
"What are you going to do after that?" he asked as Hermione mentally worked her way around.
"I suppose my parents will be home by the time I get there, so I'll have dinner with them and read a book before bed." she explained.
"Is Danny having dinner with you?" he asked, unable to hide a hint of bitterness as he said his first name.
Hermione turned her head to read his expression. Contrary to what she might have thought, he was showing nothing more than polite interest. But Draco had a certain talent for hiding his emotions.
"Occasionally, yes. His parents often come to my house, they're friends with my parents."
"I see. And you spend your days with him?"
"Usually, yes." she said evasively.
"How come you never told me about him before, if he was so important to you?"
"Because I get the impression you don't like me talking about boys." she said sarcastically.
Draco smirked, his typical smile.
"Fair enough." he replied simply.
They turned into a much more crowded street that they had to squeeze through. Hermione didn't let go of Draco's arm.
"If it makes you feel any better, I never told Harry and Ron about him." she said.
"Really?" said Draco, surprised and intrigued. "Why not?"
"I guess I wanted to keep that part of my life separate from my life as a... Witch." she said more quietly so the Muggles around them wouldn't hear.
"But your life is your witch life." Draco pointed out.
"Fair enough." she said again with a smile.
They arrived (far too quickly) outside Hampstead tube station, where dozens of people were rushing up and down the stairs. Hermione couldn't imagine Draco in a place as common and familiar as the London Underground. He wasn't supposed to be here, the mental shock of seeing him still hadn't worn off.
Draco looked at the tube station, then at her. He looked sad. Hermione was too, she didn't want to say goodbye to him. She slowly pulled her arm away from his.
He was worried that she was spending her time with Danny when she wanted to spend every day with him.
She explained the itinerary in as much detail as she could and Draco just nodded without answering. He still had that sad look on his face. She gave him the exact change for a ticket, told him several times which station to stop at, and then the route to Charing Cross Road.
"Stay on the right side of the pavement and when you see an abandoned record shop, sneak in, and you'll be at the Leaky Cauldron." she finished.
Draco nodded one last time, and Hermione almost asked him to repeat what she had said to make sure he didn't get lost in the middle of London, but she was cut off when he tucked a curly lock of hair behind her ear in a gesture so tender it made Hermione's heart rate skip a beat.
Then, he held his grey gaze for a long second, long enough for her to get lost in it.
"Thank you, Granger. I'll see you at school." he said in a whisper.
"Yeah..." she said, unable to think of anything meaningful to say.
She wanted to ask him to stay a little longer, or to come back tomorrow, but she knew that was impossible. It was a whim. He had already risked so much to come for a few hours, and she knew it was unreasonable to ask him to do more.
Yet, selfishly, she wanted to do it.
"Will you come to the Library on the first day of classes?" she asked hopefully.
He nodded before she had even finished her question:
"Yes, of course. I'll be there." he assured her.
"I'll be there too." she promised. "And, Draco...?"
"Yes, Granger?"
"You know we can continue the letters until Sunday?" she said awkwardly. "I mean, before I go to the Burrow, we can still write to each other..."
In Draco's sad eyes, a small spark of joy suddenly lit up.
"Sounds good." he replied with a smile.
He walked away from her and Hermione felt a deep sadness at the thought of him leaving. Not seeing him for a month seemed far too hard now that she had spent the day with him and he had...
"Draco?" she called a second time.
"Yes, Granger?" he repeated.
"About... what you said, in the park... I think we should really talk about it..."
"No Grangerian curiosity, Granger." he said with a smile. "Just think of all the questions you'll be wanting to ask me in the Burrow, will you? That way, you'll be thinking a bit about me down there."
Hermione couldn't help but tell him:
"I think of you a lot, Draco."
He seemed touched by the answer, but the marble mask prevented her from seeing what he was really thinking. He didn't answer. Hermione thought he would turn away without another word. But instead, he leaned over, and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, right next to her lips. Hermione froze completely, her heart threatening to explode in her chest.
He gave her one last, very Malfoy smirk, then stepped back and walked into the station.
Hermione just stood there, staring at the stairs. Several Muggles pushed her to get past, grumbling, but she didn't move.
"Granger, I am in love with you."
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Sunday came far too quickly for Hermione's liking. For the first time in her life, she was a little less keen to go to the Burrow. She tried to tell herself it was because she wanted to stay with her parents, to spend time with Danny, but that was a lie. The only reason she wanted to stay was because of Draco's daily letters.
They didn't talk about him coming to London again. He simply replied to her letter and they continued their correspondence as before. They talked about anything and everything. Draco told her briefly about his return to the Manor and how no one had noticed his absence all day. Hermione felt a little guilty at the thought of leaving him alone for the rest of the summer while Theodore and Blaise were away for another week. He looked very bored without them.
On Sunday morning, Hermione lay in bed much later than usual. She watched the sunlight filter through her curtains and daydreamed. Without realising it, Draco's confession was playing over and over in her mind.
"Mimi?" her mother called through the door.
"I'm awake Mum." she replied, sitting up against her pillows.
Hermione's mother entered with a basket of laundry in her arms.
"Are you ill, darling?" she asked, seeing that she was still lying down.
"No, no. I was just resting."
"Ah, I see. You're quite right, that's what holidays are for." her mother said as she put the washing away in Hermione's dresser. "What time are you going to the Weasleys?"
"I was going to go for tea." Hermione replied.
"Perfect. Would you like to go to the bookshop with me then? I need to buy some books." her mother asked.
"Yes, I'd love to." Hermione said with a smile. She was taking every moment she could with her mum, wanting to enjoy her as much as possible before she left. "I'll say goodbye to Danny this afternoon."
"Good idea. How was the show yesterday?"
Hermione gave a brief account of the show she had gone to with Danny and his father at Piccadilly Circus the day before. It had been a great magic show, but Hermione hadn't paid much attention - she'd been thinking about the letter from Draco that would be waiting for her when she got back.
By the end of her story, her mother had almost finished folding all the clean clothes. As Hermione stood up to get ready for breakfast, she said quietly:
"I like Danny very much. A very well-behaved boy, very polite. And I think he likes you a lot, too."
Hermione knew her mother too well to understand the innuendo in her sentence.
"Indeed he is. He's a very good friend of mine." she said, with particular emphasis on the word "friend".
She slipped on her dressing gown with a small smile, thinking that Draco might have subtly asked her the same thing. "Earlier you asked me why I thought all the boys around you had feelings for you. I don't think, Granger, I know. I know because I'm just like them."
"Oh very well. What about Ron then?" her mother continued, smoothing a perfectly ironed shirt. "How did it go, after the Ball?"
"We haven't really talked about it." Hermione said in a low voice. "I don't think he was too happy about me going with Viktor."
"Oh. I see." she said. "And this Viktor, have you heard from him?" her mother asked evasively, although Hermione knew full well that she was interested in the answer.
She thought back to the letter she had received a week earlier, inviting her back to Bulgaria for the summer. It had taken her two days to send her refusal, claiming that she needed to work for the OWLs.
"A bit, yes." she replied, as evasive as her mother.
Rachel nodded. Hermione could see that her mother wanted to ask her more questions, but she didn't want to seem pushy. She finally put down the shirt she had been smoothing for a good five minutes and turned to her daughter.
Their eyes met and for a second Hermione thought she was going to ask her about Draco. They still hadn't talked about him coming to London. But Hermione knew she knew. She even suspected that she recognised him, that naughty boy from a few years ago. Her mother had always had an excellent memory. But she hadn't mentioned him, not once, and Hermione couldn't understand why.
There was a second of silence while Hermione tried to think of an answer: "Oh, it's nothing, it was just Draco Malfoy, a boy from Slytherin who I get on well with and who happened to be in the neighbourhood..."
But her mother just gave her a soft smile.
"Breakfast?" she offered tenderly.
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At 4pm, Hermione packed her trunk in her room. She had managed to fit in all her books, even the Muggle ones, her cauldrons, her potions kit, her clothes, her uniform and her telescope. Crookshanks was locked in his cage, asleep. Her wand was tucked away in her pocket and her travelling things were in her bag, slung over her shoulder. She was ready to leave.
She took one last look at her childhood room, her bed with its purple sheets, her desk and the shelves overflowing with books. Just before she went downstairs, she pulled the letter from Draco she had received earlier in the day out of her bag.
"H,
Have a good summer.
See you you-know-where.
D.M."
She reread every word, every letter of that italicised handwriting that she had learned by heart over the summer. Then she put it in her bag, along with all the others she had received since the beginning of the holidays, and went downstairs with her things. Her parents were having tea in the living room.
"Do you need any help, Mimi?" her father offered as he saw her coming down the stairs.
"No, I'm fine!"
She left her suitcase on the doorstep, along with Crookshanks' cage and her travel bag, and went into the living room.
"Right, well... I'll be off." she announced.
"Are you sure you want to take that Night Bus?" her mother asked for the tenth time that day.
"Knight Bus." Hermione corrected. "And yes, it only takes a few minutes, I don't want to make you travel more than three hours on your only day off."
"How can a bus only take a few minutes to go that far?" asked Hermione's father, who still found it difficult to understand wizarding customs that defied the laws of physics.
Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but was suddenly interrupted by a loud noise next to her. She turned to her right and was thrown backwards by a violent gust of wind, accompanied by a loud "crac!" Hermione's mother was so startled that she spilled all her tea on her blouse.
Just before Hermione fell backwards from the impact, someone caught her arm at the last minute and lifted her up.
Hermione opened her eyes to see red hair, freckles and two big smiles. Fred and George Weasley were standing in front of her.
"Hey, Mione! Sorry, we must have landed where you were..." said Fred, the one who had grabbed her.
He made sure Hermione was standing and took his hand off her arm. Hermione immediately forgot about her shock.
"Fred! George! What are you doing here?" she exclaimed.
"Well, we've come to pick you up, of course!" replied Fred, still smiling.
"Have you passed your Apparition test?" asked Hermione, stunned.
"Of course we did!" continued George. "As soon as we were old enough, we rushed to get it!"
The twins then turned to Hermione's parents, who were still sitting on the sofa, with two shocked looks on their faces. Fred approached them with a broad smile:
"I apologise for our rudeness, Mrs and Mr Granger. I'm Fred Weasley, and this is George. We're Ron's older brothers, and we've come to collect Hermione by Apparition, so she doesn't have to take the Knight Bus."
Hermione's father was the first to move: he stood up to shake Fred's hand, then George's. The scene was as unreal to Hermione as seeing Draco in London. This was definitely the summer of the unexpected.
"Of course, of course." he said, still a little shaken. "How are you?"
"Perfectly well. And you?" George replied.
"A bit surprised." John confessed.
"Merlin!" exclaimed Fred. "Sorry about your tea Mrs Granger, would you allow me to fix it?" he asked, taking out his wand.
Rachel nodded hesitantly. Fred pointed his wand at the bottom of her blouse and cast a drying spell. Hermione watched with envy: the lack of magic made her fingers tingle.
"Oh, thank you." Hermione's mother stammered. "I wish I had this instead of laundry..."
The twins laughed politely.
"Um... would you like some tea?" John offered.
"I wouldn't mind." Fred replied, as gallant as ever.
Hermione had rarely seen the twins so well-behaved, they were usually the first to make jokes. To see them so respectful and "gentlemen" was disconcerting. They even helped Hermione's father prepare the tea tray, which he placed on the small round table in the Granger sitting room.
Everyone sat around it. Hermione was as silent as ever, disturbed by the intrusion of the twins. They seemed perfectly at ease. They sweetened their tea and bit into their biscuits in perfectly synchronised gestures.
"You said something about a licence?" said Hermione's father, starting the conversation. "A teleportation licence, was it?"
George frowned.
"We don't know that word." he admitted.
"Oh." her father said in surprise. "But... that's what you just did..."
"Apparating, Dad." said Hermione. "For wizards, that's the verb "Apparating"."
"Teleporting?" repeated Fred thoughtfully.
Hermione was sure he would repeat it to his father as soon as he got back to the Burrow.
"Then, yes, we can teleport all right." George continued, spreading butter on a scone. "Once a wizard turns seventeen, they're allowed to take the licence, and if they pass, they can "teleport" anywhere they want."
"Anywhere in the world?" asked Hermione's mother, very interested.
"Well, technically, yes." Fred replied after a moment's thought. "But you still have to respect the distance limits. I couldn't Apparate from here to Australia, for example. I'd have to use a Portkey to travel that far."
John and Rachel nodded. Hermione had told them about Portkeys the year before, when she'd had to take one to the Quidditch World Cup.
"And does this licence allow you to use magic at will?" asked Hermione's father.
The twins then explained the concept of "the trace" on minor wizards. Her parents listened attentively, although they were visibly disturbed by Fred and George's way of talking, that is, taking turns to finish each other's sentences. Hermione had gotten so used to it over the years that she didn't even notice.
They talked about Hogwarts, the year ahead and their plans for the future. Fred explained to Hermione's parents that they wanted to open a joke shop, which earned them about ten questions. They answered patiently and fluently. Hermione was surprised to see them talking so passionately, she hadn't realised how much this shop meant to them.
When they had finished their tea and cake, Fred and George thanked their hosts warmly and turned to Hermione, who still found it difficult to understand what was going on in her own house.
"Mione, are you ready?"
"But how are you going to Apparate?" her father asked, now up to speed on wizarding terms. "Mimi's not seventeen yet..."
"Oh, it's perfectly possible to Apparate with someone who doesn't have a licence." Fred said. "We call it Side-Along Apparition. All Hermione has to do is hold on to us and she'll be in the Burrow in no time!"
Seeing the clearly hesitant looks on his parents' faces, George rushed to reassure them:
"Don't worry, we've never had a problem since we got our licence. And we've practised hundreds of times with our sister!"
"Right..." Hermione's mother replied, obviously still not very reassured.
Hermione explained the principle of Apparition to them again, minimising the effects so as not to worry them. Then, Fred and George said goodbye to their parents and went to the door to carry Hermione's trunk. When George took Crookshanks' cage, Crookshanks gave him a furious look.
Hermione kissed her parents several times, hugged them and promised to write as much as she could. Between several hugs, they wished her a good term and a happy end to the summer, and finally, Hermione joined Fred and George in the hall.
Fred was holding her trunk and George was holding Crookshanks' cage. Hermione gave her parents one last smile, then stood between the two boys and grabbed their arms.
"I know you can't really control it... But I have to warn you, I'm a bit scared." Hermione said in a low voice.
"Don't worry!" promised George to her right.
"Hold on tight, Mione." Fred advised from his left.
Hermione gripped the twins' arms as tightly as she could and suddenly felt the ground lift off her feet. She caught one last glimpse of her parents' nervous faces before closing her eyes as tightly as she could.
She was pulled, stretched and propelled wildly, as if an impulse was violently tearing her body away from where she stood. Hermione refused to open her eyes, concentrating instead on the palms of Fred and George's arms clasped around her, tangible beside her, their bodies colliding with hers as they moved. It was endless, and the jolts never stopped. Hermione was suddenly afraid that the twins hadn't made it: that all three of them were stuck in midair, trapped forever between two destinations.
Then, suddenly, Hermione felt her feet hit the ground. The force of the impact was such that she was thrown backwards once more, and held again by the twins, who were still clutching her arms.
"Mione? It's all right, you can open your eyes now." one of the boys said.
Hermione did so reluctantly. She saw miles and miles of green and muddy plains stretching as far as the eye could see. In the distance, the outline of a house could be seen against the light, with uneven floors and crooked windows. The Burrow.
Hermione would have loved to enjoy the view. But her body still hadn't accepted the journey and was protesting with violent dizziness that blurred her vision. She leaned forward and closed her eyes again.
"Mione?" called George. "Are you going to be sick?"
She let a few seconds pass without answering. Unpleasant shivers continued to prickle her skin, and it took a good two minutes for the effect to wear off. She took a deep breath and finally raised her head:
"This is worse than Portkeys." she said in a slightly trembling voice.
"Merlin, Mione, you're so pale!" cried George, looking at her funny.
She stared at the two perfectly normal faces of the twins in front of her and grumbled:
"You're not."
"Well, that's normal, we've done it fifty times this summer." Fred said to reassure her. "I can assure you it wasn't good the first time either. George nearly threw up in the streets of Hogsmeade on the day of the test, in front of Madam Rosmerta, no less!" he said with a mocking laugh at his brother.
"And Fred lost half his hair the first time he Apparated." George commented, which immediately wiped the smile off his twin's face. "How are you feeling, Mione?"
"A little better." she said after taking a few breaths to wash away the nausea. "Thanks for the escort. It's faster than the Knight Bus, even if the effects are terrible."
"Don't think that dizziness will keep you from riding a broomstick this summer, Mione. You haven't forgotten our little bet, have you?" said Fred, playful again.
Hermione rolled her eyes, not wanting to think about the impending doom. The twins burst out laughing, took Hermione's things and headed for the Burrow.
The sun was right in front of them and Hermione was grateful that they were carrying her heavy trunk. She was careful not to step in any mud puddles on the way.
Just before they reached the path that led to the house, George spoke again, in a much more serious tone:
"By the way... We didn't want to say this in front of your parents, in case you didn't want them to know, but we wanted to warn you..."
"... Things are a bit complicated at home at the moment." Fred continued very seriously.
"Are they? What happened?" asked Hermione, frowning.
"Ron will explain it to you..." said George with a sigh. "But you should know that the mood hasn't really been the same since we got back from Hogwarts."
"With the return of You-Know-Who, the rumours about Harry in the Prophet and all that... And... Something happened last week..." continued Fred with a pained look.
"What?" exclaimed Hermione, who wasn't used to seeing the twins' faces so grim.
"We'll tell you when we get upstairs." George replied in a whisper. "But we wouldn't recommend mentioning Percy in front of Mum or Dad."
Hermione wanted to ask more questions, but there was no time, for they had reached the landing of the house. Fred entered without knocking and Hermione was invited into the Weasley house.
It was just as she remembered it: warm, cramped and full of people taking up all the space.
Molly Weasley was knitting, but instead of making her own stitches, she was expertly waving her wand to create a pink cardigan at breakneck speed. Ginny was drinking tea at the kitchen table, while Bill and Remus Lupin (who Hermione was surprised to see there) were chatting quietly on the other side. As for Ron, he was sitting on the sofa next to his mother, absorbed in a tattered Quidditch magazine.
When Fred, George and Hermione entered, everyone stopped and looked up at them. There was a general exclamation and everyone rushed over to Hermione to greet her and ask her how the Apparition had gone.
"Hermione, there you are at last!" exclaimed Ron as Ginny finished hugging her. "What took you so long?"
"Fred and George had tea with my parents." she said, surprised at the statement herself.
"Mione, let's put your things in Gin's room, shall we?" called George, who was already coming up the stairs.
"Thank you!" she said.
She was startled to see Ron's face in front of her. In all the excitement of her arrival, she hadn't noticed that he wasn't smiling with the same enthusiasm as usual. She wanted to ask him how he was, but before she could, he did something he'd never done before: he took her in his arms.
Ron held her close to his chest in a gesture so affectionate that she unintentionally let out a small sigh of happiness. Hermione threw her arms around his neck in an automatic gesture, inhaling the comforting Weasley scent from his red hair. He pulled away quickly, but his smile had returned.
"I'm so glad you're here." he said sincerely. "We've been waiting for you to arrive to brighten things up a bit."
Hermione frowned. He must have been referring to what the twins had just told her, about Percy. He was the only Weasley (apart from Charlie, who lived in Romania) who wasn't at the Burrow. Ron then stepped away from her to make room for his mother, who hugged her in turn.
"Oh, Hermione! I'm so glad you're here." Molly said.
"Thank you for inviting me, Mrs Weasley, I'm very grateful to be able to spend the rest of the summer with you." Hermione said warmly.
The matriarch patted her hand gently:
"Well, you're always welcome here, Hermione. It'll be a bit of female company for Ginny, she's been looking forward to your arrival."
Hermione glanced across the room at her best friend, who gave her a broad smile.
"I've been looking forward to seeing her too." Hermione assured Mrs Weasley.
Although Ron's mother was as welcoming as ever, Hermione couldn't help but notice the same traces of sadness that were on her son's face. She looked as if she'd been crying, her eyes were redder, puffier and she had dark circles under them. Her smile was as maternal as ever, but tight.
Hermione then greeted Bill and Lupin, who had risen to welcome her, chatted a little, then excused herself and quietly walked up the stairs to Ginny's room. Fred, George and Ginny were already there, sitting on the redhead's bed. Ginny had already freed Crookshanks from his cage and was stroking him gently. He hadn't enjoyed the Apparition too much either: his fur was all dishevelled.
"Are you feeling better, Mione?" asked George.
"Yes, much better, thank you. But I'm not planning on Apparating again for a long time." she added with a grimace.
Ginny smiled sympathetically:
"It's always hard the first time. The effects wear off quickly, after that."
Ron burst into the room at this point and gently closed the door behind them.
"Mum's a mess." he said in a whisper as he moved to Hermione's side.
"She saw a book of his earlier." Fred whispered, both hurt and annoyed. "She cried for ten minutes, Bill couldn't calm her down."
"What?" Hermione gasped. "Why? What's going on? And where's Percy?"
The four Weasleys in front of her bowed their heads at the same time, their mouths twisted in sadness.
"He's gone." George replied quietly.
"Gone?" Hermione repeated.
"Gone." Fred repeated. "It happened a few days ago, just after we got back from Hogwarts. Percy came back one night and announced to everyone that he'd been promoted at the Ministry. He was so proud, he thought we were all going to applaud him."
His hostile tone didn't sound like him at all.
"Fudge's personal assistant." George went on in the same irritated voice. "When Dad heard about his new role, he went berserk."
"We've never seen him like this before." Ginny commented, her eyes wide as she still stroked Crookshanks who was dozing in her arms.
"Fudge is trying to limit all Ministry staff contact with Dumbledore." Ron explained. "He still believes that You-Know-Who hasn't returned and that Dumbledore is lying. Have you seen what the Prophet says about Harry?"
Hermione nodded. Since the beginning of the summer, there had been two articles in the paper referring to Harry, calling him an affabulator with delusional stories. It was a sort of running joke that Hermione had immediately recognised as a way of making Harry's claim less credible.
"Percy believes the Prophet, doesn't he?" asked Hermione.
The Weasleys nodded angrily.
"Percy got furious too." George said, his eyes glazing over. "He said he already had to put up with Dad's reputation at the Ministry, that he never had any ambition and that was why he didn't bring home enough money."
"What?" gasped Hermione, shocked at such violent words.
"And then he said that he didn't support Dumbledore anymore." Fred continued, in a tone so snarling that it sounded like he was hissing through his teeth. "And that if Dad did, he was an idiot. He also said that Harry might lie about Him coming back just to get attention." (Ginny growled furiously.)
"The tone went up and up and up." George muttered. "Mum tried to separate them, but it was impossible. Percy said that if Mum and Dad publicly showed their support for Dumbledore, then he didn't want to be part of our family anymore. He went upstairs to pack while Mummy cried in my arms. Then he left with the Floo Powder, without saying goodbye."
Hermione let out a muffled exclamation. She had never thought that Percy, the studious boy she used to admire in first year, could do such a thing to his parents.
"Where did he go?" she asked.
"He lives in London, apparently." Ron replied bitterly. "Mum went to see him yesterday, but he refused to speak to her. She cried all evening. Bill came as soon as he heard to be with her. But she's inconsolable."
"And your father?" asked Hermione.
"Dad's mostly angry." Ginny explained, and from the tone of her voice, so was she. "Percy's words were very hard to hear. And Mum and Dad believe Harry, it hurts them to know that their own son could think like that."
"And what about Harry? What does he think?" asked Hermione.
Hearing this question, Ron's face darkened even more.
"Have you written to each other since the beginning of the summer?" he asked.
"Just once." Hermione said, surprised by the question. "He sent me a letter right at the beginning of the holidays, telling me how bored he was at his aunt and uncle's house and how his horrible cousin was always giving him a hard time... Why?"
"I have received several letters from him. He asks about me, but... Mum and Dad asked me not to tell him too much." Ron said.
"What? Why not?"
"Dunno." Ron replied pitifully, obviously sad that he had to. "They said Harry shouldn't know about it yet..."
"Know about wha-"
Hermione's question was interrupted by Molly Weasley's voice echoing down the stairs:
"Dinner time!"
Ron fell silent and the four Weasleys and Hermione walked down the stairs to dinner quietly.
Grey clouds had replaced the bright late afternoon sun and a light rain was falling in the garden, preventing them from eating outside, so everyone huddled around the dining table. Molly passed around a large pot of tomato stew and everyone helped themselves in silence.
The mood was, as the twins had warned, much more dour than the previous summer. Hermione glanced discreetly at Mrs Weasley, who ate nothing of the meal and stared out of the windows of the house. It was not hard to guess that she was thinking about Percy. Arthur Weasley had returned from work, and after a quick hug with Hermione, he too fell into silence. Hermione could see that the head of the family's usually jovial demeanour had been replaced by deep sorrow.
Hermione thought about Harry as she ate her stew. She hadn't thought about her best friend in almost a week. She'd been so busy writing to Draco, seeing him in London and digesting his confession that she'd put Harry completely out of her mind. She hadn't even sent him a letter back, even though he must have been in excruciating distress. He had been through something traumatic at the end of the year, and now he was condemned to stay locked up in a house he hated for two months...
The guilt was so overwhelming that she stopped eating. Hermione felt terrible: she'd been so wrapped up in Draco that she'd forgotten all about Harry. Since when had she put her heart before her head? It wasn't like her and she didn't like the feeling at all.
Suddenly something appeared in the middle of the table, startling everyone. For the second time that day, Hermione almost fell backwards in surprise.
She saw a cloudy, filamentous, brilliant white shape in the middle of the table: a Patronus. It was shaped like a phoenix, with long wings folded over the sides of its body, as if to greet its audience. Everyone fell silent to hear the message. The phoenix opened its beak and Dumbledore's melodious voice emerged:
"Good evening, everyone. I have some news for you this evening. I'll be at the Burrow in less than an hour."
And the Phoenix vanished in a puff of smoke. The whole family of Ron, Lupin and Hermione sat up at once.
"This must be about the Order of the Phoenix." Lupin said.
"What's the..." started Ginny, but she was cut off by Bill:
"Maybe they've found a headquarters?"
"Or maybe they've got a mission for us." Arthur continued, a serious look on his face, usually animated by a smile.
Hearing this, Lupin flinched.
Hermione glanced from one to the other, not understanding what they were talking about. Ron's parents, Lupin and Bill looked at each other seriously, deep in thought. Hermione didn't know anything about the Order of the Phoenix, but she imagined it had something to do with Dumbledore's allies. His message didn't give many clues. Perhaps she'd find out more when he got here.
"It's happening again." Lupin said solemnly.
He looked particularly grim as well. Hermione thought she could see wrinkles forming on his forehead as he lost himself in his memories. Suddenly, he looked very old.
"Will someone please explain what the Order of the Phoenix is?" asked Fred, annoyed.
Arthur and Molly looked at each other for a second, silently considering whether they should explain. Hermione was amazed at how well they could communicate without speaking. Arthur cleared his throat and looked at Fred, George, Ginny, Ron and Hermione:
"Before I explain what the Order of the Phoenix is, you need to understand what is at stake." he said gravely. "I am about to tell you some highly confidential information. As you all know, we are all on Dumbledore's side, and Harry's. You must promise me that you are too."
All the children replied in unison:
"Of course we are!"
Arthur's mouth twitched. Hermione wondered if he was thinking of Percy. No one spoke again, all clinging to the father's lips.
After long seconds of thought, he continued in a low voice:
"The Order of the Phoenix is a secret society founded by Dumbledore himself. It was formed in the '70s, when the First War began. It aims to fight You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters, by recruiting allies."
"And it's just been reinstated." Lupin continued, rising from his chair and walking slowly around the table. "The moment Cedric Diggory's body touched the ground at Hogwarts, Dumbledore restored the Order of the Phoenix. We are officially back at war."
The whole table shuddered at these words. But it was a settled fact. The return of He Who Shall Not Be Named was very real, very concrete. Harry had managed to escape him. Hermione knew all this, but to hear it from someone who had lived through the first war was quite frightening. She watched as Ron lost what little colour he had left across the table.
"How does one go about joining the Order of the Phoenix?" asked Ginny, full of conviction.
"Don't be silly." Arthur said firmly. "You're still underage."
Ginny didn't answer, but there was that typical Gryffindor sparkle in her eyes. Hermione knew that intensity. She was dying to be part of it herself.
Hermione saw Fred and George exchange a look, but they said nothing. She suspected they wanted to join Dumbledore's society too, but didn't dare say so in front of their mother for fear she would burst into tears again.
The room fell silent. Lupin paced restlessly in the small kitchen of the Burrow. Arthur and Bill fell into concentrated silence. And Molly remained at the end of the table, silent and troubled. She seemed to be lost in painful memories.
Hermione sat back in her chair and stared at her half-eaten stew. She couldn't picture Dumbledore in this familiar, intimate landscape of the Burrow. Yet he would be arriving soon. She exchanged glances with Ron, who looked lost as well. Hermione thought back to Harry and what Arthur had just told them. "We are all on Dumbledore's side, and Harry's. You must promise me that you are too."
Hermione was shaken by all these revelations about the current state of the wizarding world, but she had never been more sure of her convictions than at that moment. She believed Harry, she had never had the slightest doubt about her best friend. She had been by his side since their first year at Hogwarts. Ever since Harry had saved her from the troll in the girls' bathroom. Ever since he'd told her about his scar and the death of his parents. She believed Harry, she believed Dumbledore. It had never been any different.
How could she be useful in a world where she was too young to act?
"We are officially back at war."
No one spoke until the sound of Apparition was heard behind the front door. Arthur hurried to open it.
"Good evening, Dumbledore." he said, inviting the man in with a polite wave of his hand.
"Good evening Arthur. Thank you for receiving me."
Dumbledore entered the room, still endowed with that mysterious presence that surrounded him like an aura. Hermione rose respectfully, reflexively, and everyone around the table did the same. Dumbledore was dressed in a plum-coloured robe with a matching cloak, revealing his long white beard and a strange necklace of spheres that spun around his chest.
When he saw everyone, he smiled broadly:
"Ah, I see you were eating. I'm sorry to barge in like this." he said.
"No, not at all, we were finished." Arthur replied, and with a wave of his wand, all the plates and the pot of stew disappeared in one fell swoop.
"I'm very sorry for the intrusion, I'll try not to take up too much of your time." Dumbledore apologised.
"Not at all Dumbledore, we're always delighted to welcome you." Molly replied with a small smile. "Can I get you anything?"
"No, thank you, Molly."
Mrs Weasley then turned to the twins, Ron, Ginny and Hermione:
"Go to your rooms now."
"But Mum..." Fred protested.
His mother narrowed her eyes:
"Now."
"Actually, Molly, I need to speak to them as well." Dumbledore announced calmly.
Mrs Weasley alternated her surprised gaze between her children and the Headmaster.
"Oh, but... Dumbledore, with all due respect, they're still children..."
"Nothing serious, don't worry." Dumbledore reassured her, raising his hand. "But they need to be aware of the situation. After all, we're all at war. They'll know soon enough."
"Oh... Um... I see, very well..." Mrs Weasley stammered.
"Let's talk about it in the living room." Arthur advised and they all followed.
Dumbledore was invited to sit in one of the large, soft armchairs in the sitting room, the one Ginny usually occupied. Molly, Arthur and Bill sat on the small sofa opposite, Fred and George sat on the floor next to them, Ginny and Hermione shared a chair for two, and Ron sat on the armrest. Lupin remained standing, pacing the small sitting room.
"Are you sure you don't want anything?" offered Molly again. "We have lemon drops..."
"Oh, I wouldn't say no to that." Dumbledore said with a smile. "I must confess I'm particularly fond of these sweets."
Molly gave him a small bowl and then passed it around to the others. Hermione didn't take any, her stomach was too knotted to eat anything. When he had finished his sweet, Dumbledore put on a more serious face and announced without preamble:
"As you all know, Voldemort has returned."
Everyone around him flinched at the dreaded name, but Dumbledore ignored the reaction and continued:
"When Harry returned to Hogwarts and told me He was back, I immediately sent a message to the former members, warning them that the Order of the Phoenix was officially reinstated. Many of them immediately joined the Order." Dumbledore gestured to Lupin, who nodded slightly. "Lupin, but also Alastor Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Sirius Black, Rubeus Hagrid, Mondingus Fletcher, Severus Snape and Nymphadora Tonks have accepted my offer for the time being. Molly, Arthur...?"
"You can count on us." Arthur replied at once, determined.
Dumbledore nodded with the shadow of a smile.
"I would have expected nothing less from you. Bill...?"
"I wish to officially join the Order." he said with the same fervour as his father. "Charlie too."
"Very well." said Dumbledore.
"So would we!" said Fred and George in unison.
Their mother abruptly turned to them:
"That's out of the question."
"But we're of age!" protested George.
"I'm very touched by your request." Dumbledore interrupted, addressing the twins with a soft smile. "But your mother is right. You are far too young to take part."
"But..."
"You're still at Hogwarts." the Headmaster said. "Enjoy your last year at school, and we will consider your request in due course."
Fred and George were forced to accept, under their mother's gaze. Hermione felt Ginny tensing slightly beside her.
"So the Order is officially reconstituted." Dumbledore announced, putting his hands on his knees. "I spoke to Sirius this morning and he suggested a location for a headquarters. I must confess that I hadn't thought of such an idea, but it seems quite brilliant. You see, since the death of both his parents and his only brother, Sirius has inherited the Black family home, passed down from generation to generation. The house he grew up in and now owns. He has offered to make it the location for all the Order's meetings."
"Where is it?" asked Arthur.
"In London." Dumbledore replied. "It is under the Fidelius Charm for security purposes, and I myself am the Secret Keeper of its exact location. Sirius lives there at the moment and he asked me to suggest that you come too."
"Us?" repeated Molly in astonishment.
"Yes, you." Dumbledore replied in his calm voice. "Let's just say we could use some help getting the house back on its feet. Sirius has already done a lot of work to get it in good shape and ready to receive people, but as you will see, his parents have done their best to make it as uninhabitable as possible. So it would have to be cleared of all evil objects and other pests before the Order could hold meetings there. There are plenty of rooms to accommodate everyone, of course."
"We can help!" Ron offered immediately.
"That would be extremely helpful, Mr Weasley." the Headmaster replied, looking at Ron over the top of his half-moon glasses. "And very useful to the Order."
"Very well then... We'll make arrangements to go... I suppose we could spend the rest of the summer there..." said Mrs Weasley hesitantly, already looking around to see how long it would take to move their things.
"Excellent! I thank you very much for your investment and commitment to the Order, Molly, Arthur." Dumbledore said, and without knowing why, Hermione had the feeling he was referring to Percy.
Arthur nodded and put his left arm around his wife.
"That settles it." Dumbledore said. "Now, I have one last piece of information to give you..."
His gaze shifted to Hermione and Ron, who were sitting on the armrest to his left.
"Miss Granger." the Headmaster said, and Hermione got goosebumps as she heard him address her directly. "I'm delighted you've been able to join the Weasleys at home for the summer. How are your parents?"
Hermione felt the twins' confused looks at her.
"Er, good, good." she stammered.
It was the first time Dumbledore had spoken to her about her parents. He ran his hand over his beard a few times, as if carefully considering his next words.
" That's wonderful news." he replied wisely.
Hermione nodded as she waited for the next question, which was slow in coming. She wondered why Dumbledore was suddenly interested in her parents' lives. Perhaps he was wondering if Muggles were also suffering from the effects of the war?
"Mr Weasley, Miss Granger... have you spoken to Harry this summer?" the Headmaster asked abruptly.
Ron was the first to answer:
"Yes, a little. He asked about me, but..."
He looked at his parents, which Dumbledore caught.
"Your parents asked you not to give him too many details." Dumbledore guessed. "Good advice, you see, because it was I who asked them to tell you."
Ron didn't hide his surprise at hearing this. The Headmaster continued to smooth his beard thoughtfully.
"I would ask you, Miss Granger, Mr Weasley, not to reveal any important information to Harry until the end of the summer."
"Why?" Hermione asked impulsively before blushing. She had never dared to question Dumbledore's orders before.
Fortunately, he didn't mind.
"Let's just say Harry is being closely watched." he explained. "Several members of the Order are staying near his aunt and uncle's house to ensure his safety. But I can't guarantee that he's completely out of danger. For this reason, you must not reveal any important or confidential information in your letters to him. They could be intercepted."
"But, Professor..." Ron contested in a small voice. "If he's not informed... He'll go mad in that house..."
"Would it be possible to invite him to join us?" offered Mrs Weasley. "He knows he's always welcome here... Or at Sirius' house, I'm sure he'd be delighted to see him again..."
"No, that's not possible." Dumbledore cut in. "Transferring him would be too dangerous. And he is safer in the home of his Muggle family, where it would be much harder for Voldemort to track him down. So you must promise me that you will not send any letters to Harry that might contain compromising information."
The Weasleys nodded, although none of them seemed to agree. Hermione didn't really understand why Harry had to be kept in the dark. He would feel all the more isolated and excluded...
Hermione didn't dare tell Dumbledore her fears, so she nodded reluctantly. Ron still wore a puzzled expression as he agreed in turn.
"Very well then. Thank you for your time and for those delicious lemon sweets." the Headmaster said as he rose from his chair. "I will now give you the address of the House of Black so that everyone in this room can be placed under the Fidelius Charm."
Dumbledore took a deep breath and said in a clear voice:
"12 Grimmauld Place, London."
Hermione felt a strange sensation then, as if her brain had just clicked. She frowned.
"Now, you all know." Dumbledore said, bringing the conversation to a close. "I wish you all an excellent evening."
He cast his mysterious blue gaze over each person in the room, lingering a second longer on Ron and Hermione, then left the Burrow as he had entered.
The house was quite quiet after he left. Arthur, Bill and Lupin talked in low voices for a long time in the kitchen. Molly had gone back to her knitting, but she was so thoughtful that the needles kept getting tangled.
After half an hour, Ron and Ginny beckoned Hermione to follow them, and after a timid "Good night" to the Weasleys, she returned to Ginny's room. Ginny was beside herself:
"Why wouldn't Dumbledore want us to tell Harry?" she cried, pacing around her bed at top speed. "Has he ever met Harry? He'll never forgive you for ignoring him all summer!"
"I don't understand his decision either." Hermione admitted as she sat down on Ginny's bed. "But I suppose we have to trust him, don't we?"
That probability calmed Ginny a little and she stopped walking and sat down beside her.
"You're right." she said with a sigh. "But it's so hard to imagine him all alone in that house... With those awful people..."
Ginny bit her lip. Behind the anger she felt, Hermione could easily detect sorrow. Ron, on the other hand, was overwhelmed. His eyes were glued to the floor.
"We have to trust Dumbledore." Hermione insisted, though she could hardly believe it herself. "If he thinks it needs to be done to keep Harry safe, then we'll do it."
Ron and Ginny nodded mechanically.
"I'm going to sleep." Ginny announced after a moment of silence.
She left the room to wash up in the bathroom. Ron finally looked up and gave Hermione a sad little smile.
"I'm glad you're here." he said quietly. "You bring some joy around here."
"No, I don't." Hermione disagreed. "I feel like I don't belong."
Ron frowned, wrinkling his freckled nose.
"What do you mean? You belong here. The house was a lot worse before you got here. Everyone loves you here, Hermione."
She felt her stomach loosen as she heard this. It was suddenly filled with butterflies.
"I love everyone here too." she said softly.
"I hope going to that house in London will cheer everyone up. Have you seen how bad Mum is? That bloody Percy will pay for it." Ron promised, suddenly annoyed.
"Don't say that." Hermione whispered and stood up. Instinctively, she put her hand on the sleeve of Ron's shirt. "Don't think about it. We'll talk about it tomorrow, all right?"
"All right." he said more quietly. "Good night, Hermione."
"Good night, Ron."
She watched as the redhead left his sister's room with the same sad look on his face. She hated it when Ron was like that. Usually his face was always stretched into a smile.
Hermione got her night clothes out of her trunk and washed up in the small bathroom. When she returned to her room, Ginny was lying in bed staring at the ceiling. Hermione lay quietly beside her.
They didn't speak for a long time, using the dim light of the small room to lose themselves in their own thoughts.
Suddenly Ginny broke the silence with a low voice:
"You know, Mum lost her brothers in the first war."
Hermione turned to her best friend, surprised by the revelation.
"They died quite young, fighting five Death Eaters at once." Ginny said in a whisper. "I was a month old when they died. Mum was devastated for a long time. She doesn't talk about it much. They were twins, so I think that's why she reacted so badly when Fred and George offered to join the Order of the Phoenix."
Hermione understood Mrs Weasley's reaction better. Hearing about the war, the allies and the Dark Lord must have brought back terrible memories. Hermione felt a surge of affection for the mother of the family.
"I had no idea. What a tragedy." Hermione breathed.
Ginny made a sleepy "hmm".
"Harry will be furious." Ginny said after a few minutes of silence.
"He'd have every right to be." Hermione replied. "I mean, I would take your silence very hard, especially in a place where I feel abandoned every summer. I'll try and send him letters though, so he doesn't get too lonely..."
Ginny nodded in agreement.
Silence fell again. Hermione looked at the outline of the window in the room, trying to make out something through the darkness. She thought Ginny had fallen asleep, so she was surprised to hear her voice muffled by the pillow a long time later:
"I need to tell you something."
"What?" whispered Hermione.
"I'm going out with Michael Corner."
Hermione hadn't expected this at all. She turned her head to look at Ginny, who was already looking at her. Her hazel eyes were feverishly scanning Hermione's reaction.
"Oh." Hermione replied, not knowing how to react to this information.
Ginny had told her several times about Michael, a Ravenclaw boy in her year. Hermione had never spoken to him in person. She thought that Ginny had become friends with him, but she had no idea that she felt anything for him.
"Since when?" she asked curiously.
"This summer. We've been friends since the Yule Ball, I sympathised with him when I went to get Neville and I a drink. He was the bartender, remember?"
Hermione had no recollection, but preferred not to interrupt Ginny.
"I saw him a few times when I was with Luna, since she's in Ravenclaw too... Anyway, we became friends, and he hinted that he had feelings for me at the end of the year, just before we boarded the train. We chatted a bit in letters, and he asked me if I wanted to be his girlfriend."
"And you said yes." the brunette concluded.
"Yes... We'll see how it goes in the autumn." Ginny replied. "At first I wanted to say no, because I was still in love with Harry, but... I've waited long enough for him as it is. You told me I needed to see other people to stop thinking about him, and I think I've managed that."
"Of course." Hermione said, though she wasn't so sure.
"He knew how I felt and he never showed any interest in me, so I decided to let it go." Ginny said firmly, as if to convince herself of her words. "Now I'm with Michael. Because Michael is in love with me."
"I think that's a very good thing. You made yourself miserable waiting for him. I'm happy for you, Gin'." Hermione said softly.
Ginny seemed really pleased with that answer.
"Thank you, Mione. I knew I could count on you to react well. I'd never get that from my brothers..."
"I'm sure they'll be thrilled for you." Hermione assured.
Ginny disagreed with a grimace. Hermione had to admit that Ron's reaction to hearing this would certainly have nothing to do with understanding.
"Let's not think about what happened tonight." Ginny advised, and Hermione realised that she was referring to Dumbledore's terrible news. "Let's think about positive things, otherwise, we'll never get to sleep."
"You're right. Good night, Gin."
"Good night Mione, see you tomorrow."
The redhead rolled over in bed and fell silent. Hermione did the same. Despite her desire to rehash everything the Headmaster, Arthur and Lupin had said, she pushed it all to the back of her mind. If she thought about the current situation, she would certainly have insomnia.
So, as always, when she wanted to think of something pleasant, her mind drifted to Draco. She accepted this change with pleasure. She felt as if she hadn't thought about him for ages. What was he doing now? Did he also think of her before he went to sleep? Was he still bored in his Manor? Was he playing the piano with her sheet music?
She imagined Draco sitting at his piano, reading the little notes she had written in the margins to explain the Muggle pieces. She imagined Draco lying in bed, looking up at the ceiling, thinking of her. Was he smiling?
She was smiling.
Hermione fell asleep peacefully, far from the war and the threat that hung over her at that moment. She fell asleep hearing Draco's sentence over and over again, sending shivers down her spine every time she remembered it:
"Granger, I am in love with you."