She sat down on the edge of his bed again.

“We wondered, after we got back from the Ministry… Obviously, we didn’t want to say anything to you, but from what Lucius Malfoy said about the prophecy, how it was about you and Voldemort, well, we thought it might be something like this… Oh, Harry…” She stared at him, then whispered, “Are you scared?”

“Not as much as I was,” said Harry. “When I first heard it, I was… but now, it seems as though I always knew I’d have to face him in the end…”

“When we heard Dumbledore was collecting you in person, we thought he might be telling you something or showing you something to do with the prophecy,” said Ron eagerly. “And we were kind of right, weren’t we? He wouldn’t be giving you lessons if he thought you were a goner, wouldn’t waste his time… he must think you’ve got a chance!”

“That’s true,” said Hermione. “I wonder what he’ll teach you, Harry? Really advanced defensive magic, probably… powerful countercurses… anti-jinxes…”

Harry did not really listen. A warmth was spreading through him that had nothing to do with the sunlight; a tight obstruction in his chest seemed to be dissolving. He knew that Ron and Hermione were more shocked than they were letting on, but the mere fact that they were still there on either side of him, speaking bracing words of comfort, not shrinking from him as though he were contaminated or dangerous, was worth more than he could ever tell them.

“…and evasive enchantments generally,” concluded Hermione. “Well, at least you know one lesson you’ll be having this year, that’s one more than Ron and me. I wonder when our O.W.L. results will come?”

“Cant be long now, it’s been a month,” said Ron.

“Hang on,” said Harry, as another part of last night’s conversation came back to him. “I think Dumbledore said our O.W.L. results would be arriving today!”

“Today?” shrieked Hermione. “Today? But why didn’t you… oh my God… you should have said…”

She leapt to her feet.

“I’m going to see whether any owls have come…”

But when Harry arrived downstairs ten minutes later, fully dressed and carrying his empty breakfast tray, it was to find Hermione sitting at the kitchen table in great agitation, while Mrs. Weasley tried to lessen her resemblance to half a panda.

“It just won’t budge,” Mrs. Weasley was saying anxiously, standing over Hermione with her wand in her hand and a copy of The Healer’s Helpmate open at ‘Bruises, Cuts, and Abrasions.’ “This has always worked before, I just can’t understand it.”

“It’ll be Fred and George’s idea of a funny joke, making sure it can’t come off,” said Ginny.

“But it’s got to come off!” squeaked Hermione. “I can’t go around looking like this forever!”

“You won’t, dear, we’ll find an antidote, don’t worry,” said Mrs. Weasley soothingly.

“Bill told me Fred and George are very amusing!” said Fleur, smiling serenely.

“Yes, I can hardly breathe for laughing,” snapped Hermione.

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Ron choked on his bit of toast, and Hermione gasped.	\|	She jumped up and started walking round and round the kitchen, twisting her fingers together.

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