Madam Pomfrey stepped into her Hospital Wing, and nearly tripped over an unconscious Harry Potter. Looking down at his tear-streaked face, Pomfrey murmured, “Poor dear. He’s overwrought.” Pulling her wand, she cast the levitation charm and Harry’s unconscious body lifted off the floor to follow her down the ward. She flicked her wrist and Harry’s body swooped into the bed next to Hermione. Then, she transfigured his robe into pajamas and tucked him in.

Pomfrey’s gaze wandered over to Hermione, and she wondered for the hundredth time, when the two would finally recognize how deep their feelings were for each other. With a single shake of her head, she turned and walked to her office, to finish off the paperwork for the evening before retiring to her quarters for the evening.


The days before the students all boarded the Hogwart’s Express passed in a blur for Harry. All he could feel was a numbness that distanced him from his pain, or the pain. No one, not even Hermione, had been able to have a real conversation with him, because after any mention of Sirius, his eyes began to fill with tears, and he fled and went into hiding. Harry wasn’t sure why he couldn’t talk to Hermione, but things seemed so awkward and wrong, he just couldn’t bring himself to share his feelings.

Harry, Ginny, Ron, Luna, Neville and Hermione found a compartment, stored their luggage and settled back for the ride. Harry pretended to sleep, to avoid further conversation, already dreading returning to the Dursley’s. A few minutes into the ride, Hermione and Ron left to go on rounds as Perfects. As per the norm, Ron soon skived off on his duties, when he ran into Dean Thomas and began a discussion about Gryffindor’s odds of winning the Quidditch Cup next year, and whether or not Harry’s so-called “life-time ban” would be enforced.

Hermione continued her rounds by herself, and had just reached the end of the train, when the door to the last compartment opened behind her. Draco Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. With them between her and the rest of the train, Hermione swallowed nervously, and clenched her wand in the pocket of her robes. Draco gave a glance up the passageway, and seeing no one else, turned back to Hermione with an evil grin. Draco strode forward with Crabbe and Goyle flanking him to block off the passageway, still grinning maniacally.

Hermione drew her wand and pointed it at Draco’s nose. Through clenched teeth, she snarled, “What do you want Malfoy?”

He leered at her, and said, “Boots.”

Hermione stuttered in confusion, “W-What?”

He ignored her wand and stopped with it almost touching his nose. He sneered, “Well, Mudblood. I just wanted to tell you how much I’m looking forward to my new boots. I think I’ll go ask who else wants a pair of boots for a gift.” Giving her another triumphant leer, that swept her from head to toe, he turned and walked away, leaving Hermione confused and tense.

Hand shaking, Hermione returned her wand to her pocket and frowned in concentration. Malfoy seemed to have been enjoying an inside joke at her expense, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what it was. Taking a deep breath to settle her nerves, she quickly returned to their compartment. Opening the door, suddenly five wands were pointed at her and she flinched back with a tiny gasp.

“Sorry, Hermione,” Harry said quietly, as everyone put away their wands, unapologetically.

Hermione stepped into the compartment, closed the door and collapsed into the seat next to Harry. She swept her eyes across all of them and asked, “What was that all about?”

Ron snorted. He replied through clenched teeth, “Malfoy! Along with his two goons.”

“What happened?” Hermione asked, then added, “He told me he was looking forward to his new boots.”

Harry scowled, and scoffed, “He asked me if he could get me a pair of boots for a birthday present. Like he’d get me a birthday present, or that I’d take anything from him!”

Ginny said fiercely, “He seemed way too happy. I don’t know what he’s up to, but it can’t be good.”

Neville scoffed, “Can he be up to anything good? You know he knows we all had a hand in putting Lucius and those other Death Eaters in Azkaban. I’m sure he’s plotting something.”

Ron gaped. Then, he blurted, “That ponce? He can’t wipe his ass without his father! What could he do?”

Luna broke in with her normal dreamy, disaffected tone, “Well, he doesn’t have to do anything on his own, now does he? He knows Death Eaters, he might even become one now that his father is in Azkaban. And as much as he already hated Harry from their schoolyard rivalry, now he has a real reason for revenge.”

A chill swept down both Harry and Hermione’s backs. They caught each other’s gaze and saw the mirror for their worry for each other. Harry clasped Hermione’s hands and stared reassuringly into her eyes. He swept them all in his gaze, suddenly taking charge. “That’s the question then. What could he do with Death Eater backing? I doubt he’d be able to promote his agenda to Voldemort, but he might be able to get his Aunt Bellatrix or Mother Narcissa and some of his junior Death Eater friends to back him up. Where would we be the most at risk?”

Ginny and Ron both yelled out, simultaneously, “I’d like to see him try at the Burrow!” They stopped, grinned at each other, and Ginny added, “Yeah! Anything less than an all out attack by dozens of Death Eaters with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, would get their asses handed to them. Even in the case of an all out attack, with our wards we’d have a very good chance of getting away.”

Neville looked smug and said, “House Longbottom has had centuries to layer wards over the manor. Plus, as a member of the Wizengamot, Gran was assigned a twenty-four hour a day, two Auror Protective Detail. So, while nobody can claim to be completely safe, we have solid security.”

Harry grimaced, and said, “Dumbledore claims that I’m safest at the Dursley’s, because of the ‘Blood Wards’. Although I can’t see how, what with Voldemort walking around with my blood, I would think that Blood Wards would have no effect on him. Still, they have anti-apparation wards, notice-me-not charms, and everything short of a Fidelus on the place, plus, two or three members of the Order on guard at all times. So, I would have to say that I’ll be as safe at the Dursley’s as at Grimwald Place.” Harry glanced at Luna, who gave him a secretive smile. He answered her with a grin of his own and said, “I’m sure that the Lovegoods have all kinds of unpleasant surprises for unwanted guests. So, that leaves you, Hermione.”

Neville had a pained look on his face. His eyes flickered to Hermione, and he asked, quietly, “What are boots made out of?”

Everyone shared a surprised look at the question, but Hermione, as expected, answered quickly, “Leather. Why?”

Staring fixedly at the floor, to avoid their gaze, Neville continued his line of questioning. “And what is leather made out of.”

“Cowhide,” answered Hermione, of course.

Neville shook his head, met Hermione’s gaze, and grated out, “No. Most leather is made out of cowhide, but it can be made out of the hide of other creatures. Dragon, Unicorn, Basalisk, and for muggles, ostrich, alligator, and snake can be used.”

Hermione was looking into Neville’s eyes and could see pain, anguish, and loathing. Stung, she was unable to draw the conclusion that he obviously wanted to lead her to. Confused, she turned into her embrace with Harry, and met his equally confused look.

Neville let out an explosive sigh. “Look. You don’t know them like I do. It’s hard to remember Death Eaters have no morals, no limits. But given Malfoy’s glee, I think we have to at least consider he was talking about murdering Hermione, skinning her, and making his boots out of Hermione-hide!”

Hermione’s mouth opened and closed several times before she managed, “But, but that’s.”

Neville said, grimly, “Inhuman? You expected better from Malfoy? He’s always acted like a Death Eater; the only question is when he’ll take the mark. Thank Merlin he couldn’t resist gloating. Remember, to him you’re not really a person, not being a pureblood and all. Besides, even if you were, he’d have the ready made excuse of you being a blood-traitor or worse, an ally of Harry Potter.”

Stunned, Hermione turned back to Harry’s, he pulled her into his side, and compassionate green eyes turned back to meet hers. Hermione swallowed with a gulp. Her thoughts raced. If she was, indeed, Malfoy’s target, there would be no wards, no guards, and worse still, she couldn’t even cast magic without violating the Restriction on Underaged Magic. She started to shiver as her previously unnamed dread turned into very real and very personal terror.

As Harry watched Hermione’s terrified eyes filled with unshed tears, he pulled her into a hug. She started to sob on his shoulder and clinched her body hard to his as she began to cry. Harry just held her until his shoulder was wet with her tears. He felt a guilty pleasure from her breasts pressing into him, the smell of her hair, and the death-grip she had on him, as if he were her only refuge in a storm. Blushing, Harry looked over his shoulders to see how the others were reacting. Luna was looking at him with a knowing smile, Neville was blushing too and nervously avoiding meeting his eyes, but both Ron and Ginny both looked as if they had swallowed something sour and were pointedly looking elsewhere.

Ron snuck a glance at them, and saw Harry catch his expression. Ron’s eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. He glared at Harry and leapt to his feet, sputtering, “I, I have Perfect duties.” He threw open the door to the compartment, stepped quickly outside, and slammed the door before striking off blindly, with his head down.