The lights of Hogwarts flashed between the treetops as the carriage full of students turned onto the long drive. Hermione, just like in her first year, was staring with all her might, even holding her breath. She had never arrived at Hogwarts this way. Last year they had come across the lake by boat. Now they were being taken in enchanted, horseless carriages that rolled slowly over the gravel. A few seconds later the carriage came out onto a moonlit clearing — and there stood Hogwarts, looking like a magical castle — which, in fact, it was.
Hermione looked back at the lake. Boats with the new first-years were gliding over its black, mirror-smooth surface. To her surprise, her eyes suddenly prickled. She hadn't expected to feel so sharply how much she'd missed this place. But a moment later a shadow of worry crossed her face. Harry and Ron still hadn't shown up — she hadn't spotted them among the students getting off the train, nor when the carriages set off. It was starting to seriously bother her.
Stepping down from the carriage, Hermione joined the stream of students heading toward the Great Hall. With every step, her mood sank further. On the one hand, she was honestly worried: Harry and Ron had been at the station. So why didn't they get on the train? Where could they have gone? On the other hand — maybe the Weasley twins really hadn't been far off? Maybe her friends had managed to get themselves into some stupid adventure again?
A voice in her head — sounding suspiciously like Percy — snapped: 'Those two need to be punished!'
Hermione grimaced. She didn't much like that voice. It reminded her too much of who she'd been last year: an overconfident know-it-all who thought rules mattered more than friendship. Back then she'd annoyed everyone with her lecturing, and, if she was honest, those hadn't been her best days. And thanks to the Weasley twins, she'd even been called Mrs. Filch. She had no desire to go back to that version of herself.
The crowd surged into the Great Hall, and the familiar noise, clatter of dishes, and flickering candles greeted them like old friends. Hermione sat down at the Gryffindor table and pretended everything was fine. She smiled at one person. Nodded to another. Even tried to joke. She tried to pull her thoughts away from her friends: the Sorting Ceremony had begun, and for the first time she was watching it from the outside. How strange — everything the same, and everything different. The first-years — scared and brave all at once, some too sure of themselves, some barely staying upright. And inside each of them, she guessed, was the same tight knot she'd had a year ago.
The Hat was shouting out its decisions, the hall buzzed, the houses applauded. Hermione clapped and cheered along with everyone else — and with every minute she felt the empty space beside her more sharply. Ron would've already made a joke, Harry would've backed him up. Their absence was getting harder to ignore.
Then Ginny sat down on the stool. Hermione held her breath, watching the youngest Weasley sit there with her lips set in a kind of battle-ready determination as she waited for the verdict. She didn't have to wait long — the Hat almost immediately shouted:
"GRYFFINDOR!"
The whole table burst into cheers. Ginny ran over to them, smiling, but her eyes flicked along the table as if she were searching for someone.
When the feast finally started, Hermione, hungry after the long trip, tucked into the food with real enthusiasm. At the same time she got to know the first-years: explained Hogwarts traditions, answered their questions. She liked it — feeling important warmed her from the inside.
But near the end of the feast, odd rumors began to spread through the hall. At first Hermione paid no attention — students could dream up anything after a long holiday. But the whispers quickly grew into an excited buzz, and the talk around her became so lively that she couldn't keep ignoring it. People were saying that Harry and Ron had flown to Hogwarts in a car. And crashed into the Whomping Willow. Hermione whipped around to the nearest third-year.
"What did you say?"
"They flew straight over the school!" he told her, all excited. "They circled a tower, and bam! Straight into the tree! It nearly fell apart!"
"No, it was the Whomping Willow that nearly smashed them to pieces!" someone behind her cut in.
She listened in horror as the story collected more and more details. Someone swore the car had been upside down, someone else insisted it had run off into the Forbidden Forest on its own. At first she thought it was stupid gossip. But the more students repeated the same story, the more her anger rose. Of course it was true. Of course it was them. And of course it was Ron's idea. Harry would never have dared something this ridiculous on his own. But Ron… Ron would. And there you go — they go and smash into a tree in a flying Muggle car!
When the feast ended, Hermione headed to the Gryffindor common room. She kept running through her angry speech in her head. Harry and Ron needed to understand just how stupid they'd been. How they'd let their house down. Had they completely lost their minds, breaking such simple rules? They could easily be expelled now. Her anger only grew as she walked through the corridors. Why couldn't they, like normal students, just come to school on the Hogwarts Express? What did they even have in their heads instead of brains?
And then she saw them.
Harry and Ron were standing in front of the Fat Lady's portrait, looking confused and worn out. It took Hermione exactly two seconds to realise they didn't know the password. Furious — and, she had to admit, a little satisfied to catch them in such a helpless state — she rounded on them:
"There you are! Where have you been?!" she burst out, not giving them a chance to speak. "The most ridiculous rumors — someone said you'd been expelled for crashing a flying car!"
Harry, exhausted and rumpled, quickly threw up his hands — almost as if to shield himself.
"Well, we haven't been expelled."
But Hermione wasn't about to let it go.
"You're not telling me you did fly here?" she began, trying to keep her voice steady. But Ron didn't even let her finish.
"Skip the lecture and tell us the new password," he snapped.
Hermione pressed her lips together, but a second later she said:
"It's 'wattlebird.' But that's not the point! Do you even—"
But she didn't get to finish. And there was no point anymore. As soon as the portrait swung aside, a wave of applause broke out from inside the common room, drowning her out. The noise rolled through the tower like a victory cheer. Harry and Ron were practically hauled inside, surrounded, clapped on the shoulders, everyone shouting congratulations over each other.
Hermione froze in the doorway, staring in shock at what was going on.
They're congratulating them? They're actually congratulating them?
She'd been sure people would scold them. That at least some of the older students would say, "You put yourselves in danger," or "You're embarrassing the house." But no. Everyone was looking at Harry and Ron like they were heroes — as if they hadn't broken the rules at all, but saved the school from a dragon attack.
Hermione crossed her arms, her face burning with anger.
'This is unbelievable!' she thought furiously as she watched what was happening. 'No responsibility, no remorse — and even the older students are behaving like little kids! Fine. Once everyone calms down, I'll explain to them myself just how stupid they've been.'
But to her disappointment, Harry and Ron didn't stay. Saying they were tired, they brushed off the cheers, threw Hermione a quick "Night," and disappeared into the dormitory. She was left standing in the middle of the common room, confused and stuck with all the scolding she'd prepared but never got to say.
Still, after Harry and Ron left, Hermione didn't stay downstairs for long. The irritation was still there, but exhaustion finally won — the day had been far too much for her. She let out a long sigh and went up to her room, hoping to just lie down and finally rest.
However the moment she stepped inside, it was clear — she could forget about getting any rest.
Lila, Olivia, and Nora were sitting on their beds facing each other, talking about their summers. Or rather, Nora was doing the talking — loud, breathless, waving her arms like she was performing for an audience. Her voice, sharp with excitement, filled the whole room, and her laughter practically shook the walls. Hermione's mouth thinned into a line. Of course. How could she think they'd let her fall asleep in peace?
Lila noticed Hermione, smiled, and shifted over a bit, inviting her to sit. Nora, on the other hand, as soon as she spotted Hermione, snorted and turned pointedly back to Olivia, not even bothering to say hello.
"…and I told him, 'He's in shock! He doesn't need a potion, he needs proper care! Any creature does — even a magical one!'" Nora was waving her arms even more wildly. "But that genius of a healer only knows how to shove some tincture down its throat and call it a day! You should've seen his face when I told him he's worse than a Squib with a wand!"
Olivia, as usual, calm and polite, smiled, though it was obvious she was already tired of the stories. Nora, noticing nothing, kept going.
"And recently we were called to see a sick murmecat!" she went on, full of enthusiasm. "You should've seen its owner—"
"Nora, maybe that's enough for today?" Lila cut in. "This is your sixth story about your mum's clinic in the past hour!"
Hermione snorted and headed to her bed. The moment she'd stepped inside the room, everything had fallen back into place: the loud voices, the laughter, Nora's endless tales. She instantly remembered why she'd never managed to get along with this noisy roommate.
"Oh, make it the tenth!" Nora laughed, getting comfortable. "I've got enough stories to last the whole year!"
Her eyes swept across the room and stopped on Hermione. A slight smirk tugged at her lips, but her voice carried a clear challenge.
"Well, if someone thinks they can entertain us with something more interesting — go ahead, don't be shy."
Hermione's jaw clenched, but she said nothing. Olivia, unexpectedly, was the one who broke the silence.
"Well… actually, I do have some news," she said hesitantly. "I kept looking for information about my father this summer—"
"Pff." Nora rolled her eyes and pulled a face, as if she'd heard something long since worn-out. As far as she was concerned, the matter was simple: Olivia's father had died in the last wizarding war, period. All those searches were a waste of time.
Olivia fell quiet at once. Her lips trembled a bit, and she lowered her eyes.
"Really?" Lila jumped in quickly, trying to smooth things over. "And?"
Olivia paused for another moment, then finally said quietly:
"…and… I finally have a lead."
Nora shot upright, eyebrows raised.
"Oh, come on!" Her face showed open disbelief. "And what lead would that be? Come on, spill it, don't drag it out!"
Olivia hesitated, like she was weighing something. Then she looked away, blushing slightly, and said:
"That I can't tell you. Not yet."
"Oh no, that's not how this works!" Lila objected. "You tease us like that and now you say 'I won't tell'? Really?!"
"I really can't tell you right now," Olivia said firmly, meeting her friend's eyes. "I need to check something first. Figure things out myself."
"Yeah, 'check something'," Nora snorted, shooting Lila a pointed, mocking grin. "Bet she made it all up."
Hermione had to admit there was some sense in that. She also doubted Olivia had found any real lead. Most likely Olivia had just convinced herself she'd stumbled on something important, so she wouldn't look foolish for dragging out a search that clearly wasn't going anywhere. But even if Nora was right, it still didn't excuse the way she acted. Everything about her — from the snorting to the condescending looks — grated on Hermione's nerves.
"No! I didn't make it up!" Olivia suddenly burst out, sharper than anyone expected, her eyes flashing angrily.
For a moment the room went quiet. Everyone glanced at each other in surprise. No one had expected that from Olivia, usually so quiet and reserved.
"Alright, alright, we believe you!" Lila cut in quickly and immediately switched to a safer topic: "Anyway, let me tell you who stayed with me this summer."
Everyone turned to her with interest.
"So," Lila started, full of enthusiasm, "I had a distant relative from China stay with us! And he told me so many interesting things! Did you know there's a school in China where they teach students to weave protective amulets out of fire?"
"Out of fire?!" Hermione repeated, surprised. "Real amulets?"
"Well yes, real ones," Lila said with a nod. "They weave protective spells into them, and if you activate the amulet properly, it bursts into flame and shields you from dark forces for a few minutes. Or at least that's what they say."
"That sounds awesome!" Nora exclaimed. "Now that's what I call real amulets — not the boring stuff some people study in their clubs."
Hermione immediately understood what that jab was about. Nora was clearly hinting at Relicium, the magical artifacts club Hermione had gone to last year. Lila caught on too and quickly veered away from the risky topic.
"But what impressed me most were his stories about the Festival of Fire," she cut in quickly, her eyes lighting up. "He described everything so vividly it felt like I'd been there myself."
"What kind of festival is that?" Olivia asked, interested.
"It happens on Chinese New Year," Lila said. "Muggles and wizards celebrate at the same time, but the wizard celebration is, of course, way more impressive. Fire shows, fireworks, magical creatures appearing in the air right out of bursts of flame."
"And Muggles don't notice?" Hermione asked skeptically.
"Well, obviously it's not happening right in front of them, but a lot of it is allowed!" Lila shrugged. "Muggles put on such massive fire shows themselves that sometimes you can't tell where the fireworks end and the magic starts. And if you tell them it's magic — they won't believe you! They'll say, 'Oh, what a cool trick!' And that's it. Over there it's normal — they're used to all sorts of flashy effects. So wizards just add a bit of magic."
"Incredible," Hermione said, raising an eyebrow. "I'd love to see something like that."
"Yeah, me too!" Lila said with a dreamy sigh. "My relative invited us to China next year, but the problem is their New Year is in winter — when we're in school. Otherwise, I'd happily go chase lanterns on a broom!"
"Chase what?" Nora repeated, surprised.
"Lanterns!" Lila said, leaning forward. "At the end of the festival, Muggles release thousands of paper lanterns into the sky. They're supposed to represent the Fire Dragon. They probably think that's what he looks like." She smiled, exchanging a knowing look with her friends. "And wizard kids get on their brooms and fly after them — high enough so no Muggle notices, of course. And that's when the real fun starts! They race around the lanterns and put them out, competing to see who can snuff out the most!"
"They ruin the festival for Muggles?" Hermione said, outraged.
"No, of course not!" Lila laughed. "The lanterns would go out on their own anyway — they're not magical! It's just a tradition among Chinese wizards. All the kids love it! Just picture it: a dark sky full of lights, and you're on a broom flying through them, putting them out one by one, trying to beat everyone else. It must be great fun! And the Muggles down below don't notice a thing!"
"That sounds brilliant," Olivia said, almost in a whisper.
The room fell quiet for a moment. Maybe each of them was imagining the scene Lila had just described. Lila smiled, clearly pleased with the effect — but she got bored of the silence quickly. She perked up and turned to Hermione.
"And you, Hermione? How was your summer?" she asked. "What did you get up to? Where were you?"
Hermione looked away.
"I studied," she said shortly.
"That's it?" Nora snorted, not bothering to hide the mockery.
"Yes, that's it."
Nora exchanged a knowing look with Lila. Hermione clenched her teeth but didn't respond. She wasn't going to talk about what had happened that summer. Especially not with Nora, who was clearly waiting for a chance to make fun of her.
The conversation slowly faded, and the girls started getting ready for bed. Hermione tiredly made her bed, closed the curtains around it, and let out a long breath.
'At last the night will be quiet. No one is going to break into Hogwarts, try to kidnap me, or kill me.'
She closed her eyes and almost immediately fell asleep.