novelraw Chapter 91: Threat of Expulsion
Chapter 91: Threat of Expulsion
Chapter Ninety-One: Threat of Expulsion
"Alright, alright, you're safe now." He patted her back gently, comforting her in a low voice.
Hermione trembled slightly, still unable to believe it was real.
Was it a hallucination?
Perhaps she'd already died under the werewolf's sharp teeth and claws... This was all just her soul's imagination...
But the fresh scent emanating from his neck felt so real. Real, like waking from a dream.
She held him tightly, longing to nestle in his arms and escape the cold of the night; and he, no longer dodged, no longer hesitated, no longer wavered.
He embraced her tightly, enveloping her completely with unprecedented firmness.
She could feel his heartbeat.
Violent. Powerful. Loud.
He smelled wonderful. As she inhaled his scent, she gradually withdrew from her fear and regained peace of mind.
He was warm. She nuzzled against him, lifting her face from his shoulder to rub against his.
That warmth was more real than any fantasy.
Yes, he was a real person, not just a figment of her imagination.
As consciousness gradually returned, some truths swept through her heart like night wind, their voices so loud they could not be ignored.
Draco had stood before her, protecting her from the terrifying werewolf.
Hermione was shaken—was she really that important to him? Important enough that he'd risk his life to protect her?
Why was he willing to risk his life to protect her? Why was he so reckless?
Why was he always able to arrive in time, find her helpless, and save her time and time again?
Why didn't he pull away and keep distance as he usually did, but instead unusually hugged her back?
In her panic, she hesitated before turning her face away from his. She tried to look up at him, heart filled with a mixture of surprise and helplessness.
At that moment, Draco turned his face and stared intently into her eyes.
The warm hue that once flowed in his grey eyes was now replaced by a look of sorrow, heartbreak, and helplessness that nearly froze them.
"Draco—" Her cheeks were still damp, and her breathy, broken voice was choked with sobs. "Why?"
"What?" His grey eyes released soft light, attempting to comfort her desolate soul.
Hermione cowered.
She had countless questions she wanted to ask him. But when he met her gaze, none of those questions seemed to matter. His eyes shone with tender light, his hand gently patted hers, and his warm breath brushed against her face.
"It's nothing..." She sobbed twice, lowered her eyes sadly, and looked as aggrieved as a stray cat that couldn't find its home.
Draco sighed softly, his last shred of pretense shattered by her expression. He stroked her soft, curly hair and pulled her closer. She immediately let out a soft, animal-like whimper and buried her face in his shoulder again.
He lovingly stroked her back, gently comforting her, and repeatedly told her, "Don't be afraid. I'm here. No one can hurt you."
Hermione clutched his robes, burying herself in his warmth, unable to let go.
In that instant, she no longer wanted to let him go. Between life and death, nothing else mattered.
She couldn't care less about anything. She couldn't care less whether they'd been arguing just moments ago.
Regardless of whether he liked her or considered her a sister, at least for now, she wanted to be held tightly in his arms. She wanted him to keep stroking her, never stopping.
This was a terrible thought, but she felt powerless to change it.
"Hermione, I think we need to get back to the castle quickly. The werewolves are still roaming the Forbidden Forest—it's not safe here." Draco said softly, eyes filled with deep worry, as she sobbed slightly.
"You're right. And Harry and the others—we have to find them." She sniffled and nuzzled his neck reluctantly.
Draco didn't want to let her go. Her hair smelled so good. She nestled affectionately in his arms, almost as if embedded in his heart.
He'd almost lost her. She'd almost got hurt.
That was close.
He couldn't let her get hurt. He made up his mind, secretly kissed her hair, and hardened his resolve. "Let's go quickly, before the werewolves find us."
"Mmm," Hermione agreed, sounding somewhat aggrieved.
She sadly released her grip, allowing him to get up and go to the nearby grass to find his wand.
He quickly returned with his hawthorn wand.
He reached out his hand to her. "Can you stand up? We should go."
With his help, Hermione stumbled to her feet.
Her legs were still a little weak, and she could barely walk. Although she didn't want to admit it, she was actually still somewhat afraid of the dark corners all around.
The bushes swaying slightly in the wind looked as if a werewolf could jump out at any moment.
"Are you still scared?" Draco asked.
Hermione bit her lip as she looked at him, arms trembling, unwilling to admit it.
She didn't want to appear weak and vulnerable before him.
Hermione Granger, so proud. Even with tears still wet on her face, she couldn't admit she'd ever been afraid. Draco sighed softly to himself.
"Hold on to me, alright? The ground is all uneven—I'm afraid I'll slip and fall." He put his arm around her shoulder and helped her walk.
Hermione had no reason to refuse. He was walking just fine; she was the one who was scared, she was the one who might fall.
But he was extremely cunning. He didn't mention helping her at all; he just verbally sought her help.
He made her feel at ease letting him protect her, under the guise of "helping him."
He even said understandingly, "That's much better now, thank you."
How could she refuse? Hermione was utterly bewildered as she walked in his arms.
"What happened, Hermione?" Draco began asking questions, trying to distract the bewildered girl and stop her from dwelling on the matter or paying attention to the bushes.
"We...we found Peter Pettigrew in his rat form at Hagrid's hut, and Harry chased after him...then a big black dog—that was Sirius—darted in through the gap in the Whomping Willow, grabbed the rat, and took him to the Shrieking Shack...he said Peter Pettigrew must have some ulterior motive, and he wanted to force him to tell...but it's a full moon, and Professor Lupin must have forgotten to take his potion! He turned into a werewolf, and Peter Pettigrew escaped in the chaos...Sirius, in his dog form, fought the werewolf but was defeated...then Professor Snape arrived, and was soon defeated as well...Harry and Ron ran down the grassy slope, and I got separated from them...just as you saw, I was caught by the werewolf." Hermione recounted everything that had happened that night, haltingly.
"Merlin's beard..." Draco was somewhat shocked as he listened to what she'd told him.
He patted her shoulder, then suddenly remembered something. "Has Peter Pettigrew been hiding in the Shrieking Shack all this time?"
"Yes, I suppose so," Hermione said, gazing at the desolate lake before her.
By the lake lay Harry, Ron, Sirius, and Professor Snape, all unconscious. Draco rushed forward to check their breathing at Hermione's gasp.
"Are they...still alive?" Hermione asked anxiously.
"They're still alive." Draco straightened up, frowning. "But they're badly injured. They need to be taken to the Hospital Wing right away."
Just then, something enormous moved through the bushes and grassy slopes, making loud snapping sounds as branches broke.
"Draco, listen—" Hermione's expression immediately turned to fear.
"Who's there?" Draco demanded sharply, grabbing Hermione's hand and pulling her behind him. Her slender fingers were icy cold.
Under the moonlight, figures flickered from among the trees.
"Hagrid?" Hermione exclaimed in surprise.
"Hermione! I can't find Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid sobbed as he rushed toward them, his full beard unable to conceal his anxiety and despair. "I ran into Professor Snape on the way and told him what happened. I even went to the Owlery to send a message to Professor Dumbledore... Oh, Gorgons, what's wrong with Harry?"
"We've encountered werewolves." Hermione could no longer stay alert. She leaned against Draco, exhausted. "Hagrid, we need to get them to the Hospital Wing immediately, especially Sirius. He looks badly injured..."
"Where's Harry?" Hagrid looked in Harry's direction with concern.
"He's just passed out," Draco said calmly. "He's not as badly injured as Sirius."
"You! Draco Malfoy! What are you doing here?" Hagrid finally noticed Draco and said warily. "Hermione, you silly girl, come here! What are you doing next to him? Holding his hand? Have you forgotten how he—"
"Don't waste time!" Draco interrupted him rudely. "If you still want Sirius to live!"
"Alright, I'll take him to the Hospital Wing right away! You lot stay put and watch Harry—I'll be right back! That Malfoy boy, you better behave yourself! You try bullying her! Hermione, grab your wand, and if this brat gets rude to you, teach him a lesson!" Hagrid said loudly, easily lifting the unconscious, blood-soaked, dark-haired man—who looked like a dying black swan—speaking with a grim face.
Hermione frowned and nodded to Hagrid, but did not let go of Draco's hand.
"We can't wait here. It's not safe—we have to leave," Draco said irritably. He glanced at Hagrid's hurried figure heading toward the castle, then looked away and surveyed the people lying on the ground around him.
"Levitation Charm?" Hermione asked wearily. "Can we use the Levitation Charm?"
"Good idea. However, the Levitation Charm only applies to objects," Draco said. "We can cast a similar spell—*Mobilicorpus*."
"*Mobilicorpus*, *Mobilicorpus*..." she repeated softly and mechanically, as if learning this incantation could alleviate the panic in her heart.
"Can you still walk?" Draco asked her, feeling the girl beside him swaying precariously.
Hermione gave him a stubborn look, remained silent, and turned pale.
She was indeed trembling and her legs were weak. When Hagrid had run over just now, she'd thought the werewolves had returned and was startled.
Draco sighed and took off his new robes and draped them over her shoulders.
"Get on—I'll carry you." He squatted down, turning his back to her.
"I—I can probably walk by myself," she emphasized softly, hugging his neck tightly and resting her cool face against the crook of his neck.
"That's right. When I'm too tired, you can get down and walk by yourself." He said perfunctorily, tightening his grip on the fragile girl.
*Don't go anywhere.* He couldn't help thinking, faint smile playing on his lips.
"I'm not actually that weak," she said defiantly, though she was still trembling slightly despite wearing his robes.
"That's right. You're not weak. Did you learn that spell just now? Use that spell to levitate the wounded and take them to the Hospital Wing, alright?" Draco said seriously. "I remember you always learn levitation spells very quickly and are very good at controlling levitated objects. Give it a try—it will help me a lot."
Hermione was convinced. She picked up her wand and whispered the newly learned spell on his back, and soon the unconscious people were suspended in mid-air like ghosts.
Anyone who unfortunately peered into the Hogwarts grounds at midnight would surely be terrified by this eerie scene.
"That's it. Good girl, you did brilliantly." Draco held her tightly and praised her.
She seemed a little happier at those words, and obediently lay on his back, guiding the wounded forward, and stopped fidgeting.
They walked for about ten minutes and caught up with Hagrid—who was raising his fist, as large as a mixing bowl, and pounding on the door of the Hospital Wing.
Madam Pomfrey, dressed in plaid pajamas, was yawning. She impatiently opened the door and was nearly scared out of her wits when she saw a group of battered people floating in mid-air.
"For Merlin's sake! What on earth have you been doing? A wizarding duel shouldn't result in injuries this serious!" She glared angrily at Hagrid, who was carrying Sirius straight into the ward, then glanced at Draco, who was standing before her, with the girl on his back looking exhausted as she controlled the unconscious wounded in the air.
She seemed to be weighing who the culprit was.
"What kind of look is that?" Draco thought indignantly. "It's not like I'm the one who caused these people to get like this!"
"I don't know what happened either. I was just passing by and offered to lend a hand." Draco tried his best to look at Madam Pomfrey with a confused expression, tone carrying a hint of tact.
"In that case, Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger, what are you doing wandering around outside in the middle of the night instead of going back to your common rooms?" She asked suspiciously, glancing sharply at the listless girl draped in robes on his back.
*Merlin, did this young couple sneak out on a date?* Madam Pomfrey screamed like a Puffskein inside, wishing she could rush to Madam Pince's bedside, shake her awake, and tell her this momentous news.
Draco was speechless and could only give her an awkward smile.
Excitement aside, the injured were still the top priority.
"Come in, put them down," Madam Pomfrey said, trying her best to keep a straight face. She watched as the wounded floated onto beds one by one under Hermione's control, then hurriedly began to examine them. "And Hagrid, you get out here and wait. Don't touch my patients!"
Hagrid awkwardly lowered his hand, which was about to reach for Harry, and bent down to slip out through the doorway.
Finally, they were safe. Draco breathed a sigh of relief. As the wounded were laid down one by one, he heard the girl behind him also let out a sigh of relief, then gently rest her head on his shoulder.
She must be exhausted, maintaining the spell for so long.
He gently placed her on a chair and, in the light of candlelight from the wall lamp, carefully examined her.
"Thank you." Hermione listlessly put away her wand, eyes lowered, feeling a little lost as she left his warm back.
It was then that Draco noticed the abrasions and scratches on her face and arms, which made his heart clench.
"You're hurt," he told her.
Hermione looked up at him in confusion, only to find him expertly opening the medical kit that Madam Pomfrey had placed to the side, taking out some simple tools for cleaning wounds, and walking up to her.
She looked at her arm and said softly, "It's nothing. Just minor injuries."
"You need treatment." He cleaned his hands, lifted her face with an unquestionable air, and gently adjusted her position so that she could tilt her head back toward the candlelight, examining her wound.
His warm fingers touched her chin. The warmth made her feel as if she were in a dream.
Then, he carefully picked up the damp cotton wool and gently wiped away the tiny pebbles from the wound on her cheek.
She was dazed by the dim candlelight, letting him fuss over her face. She had nothing to say, only staring blankly at him, noticing how beautiful his eyes were.
Grey, gentle, comforting eyes. There was no coldness, no indifference, no alienation.
He gazed intently at her, as if she were the only one in his eyes. *He's just being kind,* she thought sadly, realizing she was indulging in wishful thinking again.
Draco's eyes were truly fixed on her. He noticed that her eyes were a little swollen, and her expression was like that of a frightened animal in the wilderness, as if she were about to cry again at any moment.
It was clear that the werewolf had terrified her. He disliked the pitiful glint in her eyes, and hated even more the wounds and scratches—they screamed softly in his heart.
Frowning, he applied ointment to her face and then began to clean the small scratches on her arm.
These scratches seemed to make him even more anguished. For a moment, Hermione thought she saw a flash of pain in his eyes, as if the scratches were on him, not hers.
This was completely impossible. Perhaps it was just her imagination. She must be seeing things; or it was due to the deceptive effect of the flickering candlelight.
He shouldn't care about her to this extent. No one should care about her wounds and scratches to this extent.
Even parents didn't show pain over these kinds of minor injuries.
They would simply tend to her wounds and then smile and encourage her to be strong.
While she was lost in thought, Hermione hissed as he applied ointment to her elbow.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." His face turned pale instantly, fingers trembled slightly, and he dropped the cotton wool on the ground.
"I'm sorry," he said softly, voice trembling slightly, with a tone of fear and unease. "I—I'll be gentler."
He gently coaxed her, took another clean piece of cotton wool, dipped it in the medicine, and gently touched the wound.
"Mmm," she replied, suddenly feeling overwhelming sense of grievance welling up inside.
His gentle movements suggested he cherished her dearly. His incredibly soft tone suggested he held her in his heart.
This boy, who was usually aloof, arrogant, and calm, seemed like a completely different person.
How could he care about her so much?
How could he be so gentle with her, more so than ever before?
At this moment, she seemed to like him more... but he didn't like her... This was the worst thing in the world.
Hermione stole a glance at his profile, which seemed inexplicably sad, and felt her throat tighten. She felt like a lemon picked in March, her whole being aching with the bitterness of budding, hopeless unrequited love.
Fortunately, fortunately, neither of them had died. He was still treating her wounds. She looked at him, trying to comfort herself with what little brain she had left tonight.
*Tsk, look at that Malfoy heir—look at how careful he is!* Madam Pomfrey secretly glanced at their movements from the corner of her eye, thinking to herself. *If you didn't know better, you'd think the one seriously injured tonight was that girl, not Sirius Black!*
"They're just minor scratches—is it really necessary? If we don't treat them soon, they'll have almost healed!" she thought to herself, while still deftly examining, treating, and bandaging the wounded.
"Alright, it's all done." After a while, Madam Pomfrey said easily, looking at Hermione, whose wounds had been carefully treated by Draco. "I think Miss Granger's wounds probably don't need my treatment anymore, do they?"
Hermione blushed slightly as she looked down at her bandaged arm.
To deflect Madam Pomfrey's teasing gaze, Draco coughed, concealing his complex emotions, and asked, "How are they?"
"Sirius is the most seriously injured. He has multiple cuts, some quite deep...and several ribs are broken." Madam Pomfrey looked at the dark-haired man, making teeth-aching sounds that echoed throughout the ward. "How did he manage to get himself into this state in just a few days?"
"Oh, by the way, Madam Pomfrey, how are Harry and Ron?" Hermione asked anxiously.
"Mr. Potter has a few scratches, but they're not serious. Did you encounter Dementors? The mental torment he's suffering might be more intense than the physical pain." Madam Pomfrey shook her head and placed huge chocolate bar on his bedside table. "Let him have some when he wakes up."
"As for Mr. Weasley, he needs to take some Skele-Gro and stay in the Hospital Wing for a couple of days." Madam Pomfrey shook her head, took out a bottle of smoking potion, and placed it on the bedside table next to Ron's head. "This medicine isn't exactly comfortable, is it, Mr. Malfoy?"
Draco grimaced in agreement.
He'd had this stuff last year, so of course he knew the tangy, numbing sensation Skele-Gro could bring. That unlucky Ron had probably broken his leg while running down the hillside in his haste.
It seemed he wasn't going to have a good night, Draco thought.
"Where's Professor Snape?" His gaze slid to the bed next to Ron's, and he asked quickly.
"He twisted his ankle and hurt his leg. It's quite a large wound. He'll need to rest for a few days," Madam Pomfrey said regretfully.
"How did Professor Snape get this wound? Was it from the werewolf?" Draco frowned slightly and asked Hermione in a low voice.
He felt uneasy, unsure whether he should remind Madam Pomfrey of this.
"He probably wasn't scratched by the werewolf's claws. He was hurt when the werewolf threw him, when he hit a tree—I vaguely remember." Hermione looked up, tugged at his robes, and whispered to him.
So that was it. At least it wasn't a werewolf that hurt him, Draco thought anxiously.
Once Madam Pomfrey had treated all the wounded, Hagrid was finally allowed to enter. He squeezed through the doorway like a mammoth that had wandered into the wrong goblin's room. He strode heavily and sat down abruptly next to the newly awakened Harry, glanced at him, howled like a wounded dog, and began to weep bitterly.
"Harry, I thought it was all too late! As soon as you left, I rushed to Dumbledore's office, but no one was there... I was so worried... Luckily, I ran into Professor Snape, and I pointed toward the Forbidden Forest and told him, 'Harry and the others went after Peter Pettigrew,' and he immediately ran over to find you..."
He sobbed, large tears seeping into his beard, looking as if he was still shaken.
Madam Pomfrey was annoyed by the noise he was making. Ten minutes later, she put her hands on her hips and shooed Hagrid out, saying that "the patients need rest."
At this point, apart from Sirius, the unconscious people were gradually awakened by the noise Hagrid was making.
Once he regained his senses, Professor Snape's face displayed the same coldness, disdain, and contempt as always.
"Very well," he said, looking at the pale-faced Harry, chilling smile playing on his thin lips. "From the Minister of Magic down, everyone from top to bottom has been trying to protect the famous Harry Potter from Peter Pettigrew's threat. But the famous Harry Potter is stubborn and makes ordinary people worry about his safety! The famous Harry Potter goes wherever he wants without considering the consequences."
"Sir, we saw Peter Pettigrew! We caught him, and then he escaped!" Harry protested.
"Nonsense!" Professor Snape looked at Harry's face with disgust and scoffed. "Peter Pettigrew's excuse works well, doesn't it? It's just another excuse for you to sneak into the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the night! Disregarding rules, thinking too highly of yourself... I've seen plenty of that."
"But, sir, we saw him with our own eyes!" Hermione quickly explained.
"So, where is he?" Professor Snape glanced at her, tone slightly softening.
Hermione hesitated. She didn't know whether she should tell them. Hogwarts students weren't supposed to be in Hogsmeade Village at this time. They'd broken at least fifty rules along the way.
"He...he's been living in the Shrieking Shack!" At that moment, Ron woke up and struggled to sit up, but his injured leg prevented him from doing so, and he fell back onto the pillow.
Professor Snape's expression changed drastically. As if Ron had splashed Aconite in his face, his complexion quickly darkened, becoming even darker than the night outside the ward.
"This is ridiculous! I can't stand your nonsense anymore! I will never go to the Shrieking Shack!" He twisted his face into strange expression of disgust, as if someone wanted to kill him.
He stared intently into Harry's eyes with his dark gaze and said slowly, "Professor Dumbledore isn't at Hogwarts right now. I'll go tell the Board of Governors myself what happened. They won't believe the nonsense of three brats! You can all expect to be expelled! As for Professor Lupin, once the Board finds out he's a werewolf, he probably won't be able to keep his teaching position either!"
"Draco Malfoy—" He cast stern glance at the boy standing quietly beside Hermione, voice slow and low, even unusually uttering his surname. He seemed to be reminding the silent boy of his surname and the meaning it represented. He snorted, tone threatening. "As your Head of House, I advise you to stay away from these troublemakers!"
Draco lowered his head obediently, seemingly accepting his Head of House's criticism humbly, but his feet did not move.
He didn't follow his Head of House out of the room. He remained firmly planted next to Hermione's seat.
Hermione was a little worried about him. She looked up at him and found him staring at her, grey eyes filled with complex and unreadable emotion.
At this moment, she only understood his worry; there were many other emotions that she could not fully understand.
*What was that? What did the emotion in his eyes mean?* She wondered, puzzled.
Harry Potter stared in astonishment at Professor Snape's retreating figure, watching him limp away, unsure whether his anger or confusion outweighed his feelings.
Harry couldn't understand why Professor Snape, who hated them so much, would suddenly appear near the Forbidden Forest and stand before them just as the terrible werewolves were about to attack. He also couldn't understand why, if Professor Snape was willing to protect them, he wouldn't believe their explanations and would even make those indiscriminate accusations and threats afterward, acting so unreasonable.
"If I get expelled, my mum will kill me," Ron said sullenly from the hospital bed, voice sounding like a squashed rubber duck.
Hermione was also somewhat anxious.
"We won't get expelled, will we?" she asked Draco in low, hopeful voice.
"This matter could be serious or minor, entirely up to Professor Snape's decision. Also, the Board of Governors must make decisions based on evidence. The best way is for you to find more evidence to prove that Peter Pettigrew was indeed at Hogwarts today." Draco's expression was somewhat serious.
"What evidence could there be? He's already run away," Hermione said sadly, clutching his robes as she pondered his words, trying to find another solution.
Draco looked at her pale face but didn't answer her question. He took chocolate from his pocket, slowly unwrapped it, and intently fed it to her through the wrapper. "Come on, open your mouth."
Hermione stared blankly into his soft, silky eyes, and slowly, bit by bit, took the chocolate from his hand, temporarily regaining some energy.
She hadn't even realized how intimate they were right now.
Harry did notice, but he wasn't in the mood to tease them. He also had no interest in eating the chocolate bar; he remained preoccupied.
He pursed his lips, face pale as he stared at his godfather—who was still very weak.
"I hate myself," Harry said suddenly, hint of confusion in his voice. "Should I...have let Sirius kill him? Peter Pettigrew—"
"That's not like you—more like something a Slytherin would say." Draco looked at Hermione's suddenly stiff face and patted her head reassuringly. He crumpled the chocolate wrapper into a ball and tossed it into the bin nearby, saying lazily, "I remember you've always been soft-hearted."
"This time is different. I feel so sorry for Sirius," Harry said sadly, looking at the dark-haired man covered in bandages on the hospital bed—his unconscious face bearing marks of suffering. "I ruined his only chance for revenge."
"It was my fault," Ron said sternly. "I shouldn't have let him go... I should have held him firmly until I handed him over to the Dementors."
"It's no one's fault. Nobody expected it," Hermione said uneasily. "None of us expected it."
The air in the ward fell silent.
"I bet Peter Pettigrew was up to something—he almost blurted it out," Ron added, as if to make the atmosphere even more somber.
This statement caught Draco's attention.
Ron's words were a wake-up call for him.
Draco had a bad feeling about this—Sirius was pressuring Peter Pettigrew so hard, yet Peter Pettigrew was determined to resist to the death.
It must be because this conspiracy was of great importance.
"Actually, there is a way, but it's rather risky," Draco said calmly.
His grey eyes stared undisguisedly at the depths of Hermione's neck, where a delicate gold chain was faintly visible on her collarbone.
"We need some time," he said, gaze lingering on the collar of her shirt, which was unbuttoned.
Hermione blushed slightly under his gaze. She covered her neck, which felt hot from his stare, and touched the chain, suddenly understanding his meaning.
"You know about it?" She twirled the thin chain, looking at him with suspicion and uncertainty, feeling that his gaze was somewhat burning.
"More or less," Draco said with slight smirk. "I know such things exist."
"But..." she forced herself to regain composure, hint of hesitation on her face. "The kind of use you're talking about isn't permitted. I was told it can only be used for learning."
"That's up to you." Draco said noncommittally, expression inscrutable as he scrutinized her suddenly flushed cheeks and neck.
Ron lay in his hospital bed, looking rather sickly from the intense pain in his injured leg. He asked impatiently, "Hey, what kind of riddles are you two playing now?"
Hermione didn't have time to explain to him. She glanced at Harry, who looked dejected, and then at Sirius, who was still unconscious.
Finally, before making up her mind, she blushed and asked Draco, "Will you—come with me?"
"If you need me." Draco looked at her intently, smiling slightly.
Hermione made up her mind. She said to Ron apologetically, "I'm sorry, Ron, you can't come with us."
"Harry, come here." Draco gestured with his chin toward Harry.
"What do you mean by this?" Ron grimaced, clutching his injured leg, as he watched in shock as Hermione pulled a long, thin gold chain from the collar of her robes and hung it around her, Draco's, and Harry's necks.
The chain was remarkable; it seemed to be able to freely extend and retract in length.
"What's going on?" Ron asked. He saw Hermione's hand twist three times on the small, glittering hourglass at one end of the chain.
Hermione didn't answer him. Then, Ron's eyes widened in surprise—the three of them had vanished from the spot.