"Ginny and your brothers left this morning, right, Ron?" Hermione said, as they all settled into their compartment. They had had their pick, as they were the last of the students (the only ones, as a matter of fact) leaving for the holidays to board a train today.

Ron nodded. "Six o'clock, bright and early," he said, shuddering. "Now that I think about it, the sun wasn't even out yet, for crying out loud!"

"Well, I'm glad you ended up on our train, then," she said. "It was awfully nice of you to take the later one with us."

Ron seemed to be completely taken aback by her compliment, staring at her open-mouthed for a few moments, as if waiting for her to follow it up with a smart remark, but Hermione had now turned her attention to her cat, whom she was trying to coax out of his carrying case.

"C'mon, Crookshanks," she was cooing. "Don't you want to stretch?" The fat cat seemed reluctant to leave his comfortable position, but Hermione finally managed to get him out and placed him on her lap, where he purred regally, much to Hermione's motherly delight.

Ron was still watching her, the surprise of her unexpected comment not having sunk in yet, apparently. Even more than surprised, he seemed downright flattered, as evidenced by how pink the tips of his ears had become, which seemed to be happening a lot more often these days--and especially around Hermione, Harry had noticed.

"Actually," he began, as if embarrassed to have been caught doing something so noble, and feeling the need to explain, "Truth is... I overslept and wasn't packed yet by the time Fred and George came to fetch me. Mum and Dad won't be too pleased at having to go to the train station a second time to pick me up as well."

He smiled sheepishly, but Harry knew better than to believe his story. He knew Ron had overslept on purpose, so he could take the later train with Harry and Hermione and spend a few more hours with Harry before he was left all alone with Hermione for two whole weeks. And Harry more than appreciated the gesture.

He loved Hermione dearly, but his friendship with her was just... different. With Ron, he was free to complain about their grueling schoolwork ("How are we supposed to read a 650-page book on the same week that we've got a three-roll essay due?!"), chat for hours on end about the countless intricacies of Quidditch, which Hermione had not seemed to have fully grasped yet ("Those bludgers are completely barbaric! I think they should get rid of beaters once and for all..."), or even spend a quiet--well, not so quiet, the way Ron's pieces played--afternoon playing wizard chess.

And he certainly couldn't talk to Hermione about girls! He had a hard enough time opening up to Ron about Cho without feeling like his face had been set on fire; he couldn't imagine having a similar conversation with Hermione, who would no doubt try to school him on the finer points of modern courtship.

No thanks.

After a while, when Hermione had fallen asleep along with Crookshanks, her legs tucked up behind her on the seat, and Harry and Ron had had their fill of playing Exploding Snap, Harry noticed that Ron's attentions seemed to be elsewhere.

"You okay?" he asked.

The question seemed to snap Ron out of his reverie, and his face turned bright orange at the realization that Harry had caught him daydreaming.

"Wha'?" he said. "Oh, er... yeah, I'm fine."

Harry said nothing and just grinned to himself as he began to put the cards away. He had a feeling he already knew what had Ron so distracted anyway.

"Look at her," Ron said.

Harry looked up, pretending not to know what Ron was talking about.

"She looks so... peaceful."

Somehow, Harry suspected that was not the actual word Ron had wanted to say, but he didn't tell Ron this.

"Lying there, sleeping... she looks so peaceful, doesn't she?"

Harry nodded, then smiled to himself when he noticed that right beside Crookshanks was an open book, propped up against Hermione's thighs. Ron must have made the same observation, because he and Harry both burst into laughter in the next second.

Hermione stirred and opened one eye, then the other, then gave them both glares that practically bore into their skulls. "What's so funny?" she hissed. She propped herself up on her elbow, waking Crookshanks, who meowed in protest. "What are you two laughing about-"

"Anything off the trolley, dears?"

Saved by the food cart, thought Harry.

"Oh good, I'm starved," Ron said.

"I don't see how," Hermione muttered, "what with all those Fizzing Whizbees you practically inhaled earlier."

Ron threw her a dirty look and said rather defensively, "I'm a growing boy--I need to eat."

"Hmph."

The witch just smiled and pushed the trolley inside. Harry thought there was something a bit curious about her, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. She must have noticed him looking at her from the corner of her eye, because she turned to him and said, "Was there anything in particular you liked?"

She was looking at his scar, Harry realized. Flustered, and a little self-conscious now, he answered quickly, "Er... just the pumpkin pasty, thanks."

"A roast beef sandwich, please," Hermione said.

Ron was a bit more ambitious. He reached into his pockets, fumbling around for coins, it seemed (Harry heard him counting them under his breath), then his face broke into a satisfied smile and he told the witch, "A roast beef sandwich as well, please, and a pumpkin pasty, and three boxes of chocolate frogs."

Hermione eyed him with a look of disapproval. Surely she would be lecturing him on eating too many sweets once they were alone again. Ron simply ignored her and happily took the food from the witch.

Again, the witch smiled, as Harry continued to watch her closely.

She certainly looked odd enough. She was wearing far too much make-up, as if it had been applied by an awfully clumsy hand. She was short and plump, with short, curly hair that had a bluish tint to it that Harry wondered if it was a wig. And there was something strangely familiar about those watery eyes, but he simply couldn't remember ever having seen such an unusual looking woman.

"That'll be seven sickles, please," she told them. Even her voice sounded strange--warbled and oddly high-pitched.

They all dug out their coins and handed them over to her one by one. As Harry reached out his hand to give her his money, he noticed something that made his breath catch in his throat.

The witch had a hook where her right hand should have been.

As if realizing what Harry saw, the witch quickly snatched her hand away and laughed--a little too nervously.

"What sweet children," she said, then began to pull the cart of the compartment. "Now if there's anything else you all fancy, you just come and give me a call, all right? I'll be coming back to check on you a little later..." She gave Harry a bizarre smile, then disappeared.

Harry couldn't wait another minute for her to leave. As soon as she was out of sight, he slid the door shut and cried out so loudly that he startled Ron into dropping his sandwich.

"DON'T!!"

Ron soon found his voice. "Blimey, Harry, what's the big idea, scaring us like that?" he said, after he had recovered somewhat. "Look what you made me do..." He bent over over to retrieve his sandwich, then looked up at Hermione. "Reckon it's still good enough to eat?"

"Ron, no!!" Harry snatched the sandwich away from a disbelieving Ron.

"What is with you? I told you, I'm starved-"

But Harry didn't have time to argue with him, because he saw that Hermione had already taken a bite of her sandwich. "Hermione, spit that out!"

"What?!" She looked utterly horrified at his suggestion.

"SPIT IT OUT!!"

After a few seconds staring at Harry in shock, she finally pulled out a napkin and did as he told her to do. Harry was still sticking out his hand, however; Hermione eventually handed him the sandwich.

"You'd better have a good explanation for this, Harry," she said, wiping her lips.

"I have a perfectly good explanation for it," he told her. Without another word, he pulled out his wand from under his sweater and pointed it at her sandwich. "Facio aqua!"

A stream of water shot out from his wand and onto the sandwich, and as soon as the water touched it, steam began to rise, then the sandwich suddenly turned an ugly shade of fuchsia.

Hermione stared at Harry. "Oh my," she said. "You mean it's..."

"What in the bloody hell was that?" Ron breathed. Now he had dropped his pumpkin pasty and his boxes of chocolate frogs on the floor.

"Ron!" Hermione said, whipping her head to give him a look of reproach. "Must you?" She clearly did not approve of his cursing.

Ron gave her a mischievous grin. "Sorry," he said. "I meant, kindly tell me what you just did, Harry."

Hermione rolled her eyes, then said, "Oh, isn't it obvious?"

But Ron just looked puzzled and shrugged at Harry.

"It's powdered cessamil, isn't it Harry?"

"Powdered what?"

"Powdered cessamil, Ron! Honestly..." Hermione shook her head disapprovingly. Ron apparently didn't appreciate the comment, nor the look, but before he could respond, Hermione had already started to speak again. "We learned it in Potions last year, in case you've forgotten already--which it looks like you have. It makes people go to sleep when they take it, and when it comes into contact with water, it produces steam and turns the water fuchsia, just like the color of the flower it comes from."

"Bloody hell-" Ron ignored the new look of disapproval Hermione shot him. "What're they doing, putting that in our food?!"

"Because they wanted to make us go to sleep!" Harry got up and looked into the hallway to make sure the witch was nowhere to be found before he continued. "They did this on purpose-"

"Wait a minute, who's they? What's going on here?"

"That witch," Harry said, "the one with the food cart... I think it was..."

Ron and Hermione were both on the edge of their seats now, liable to fall off at any moment.

"I think it was Peter Pettigrew."

There were no words spoken for the next few seconds. Ron and Hermione had just sat there, too stunned to speak, and Harry knew no more than they did what the right thing to say was at the moment.

Then, Hermione broke the silence, saying in a very panicked voice, "Oh my God, what are we going to do? He'll be back here any minute now--he said so himself! What's he going to do to us?!"

"Calm down, Hermione-"

"Don't tell me to calm down, Ron, we're trapped in here, while that madman is waiting for us outside, waiting to take us to... to... you-know-who!"

"Hermione, he's right," Harry said. "We can't panic... We'll just have to... think of something..."

But even he hadn't a clue what in the world they should do next. I knew he'd try something, he thought, I just knew it... Voldemort just wasn't going to give up until he had exacted his revenge on Harry, and he knew it deep down inside.

"All right," he said at last, "here's what we're going to do..."

Ron had gone over to Hermione's side of the compartment to sit next to her in an effort to ease her fear. They were both looking at him now, waiting for him to continue, Hermione nervously squeezing Crookshanks.

Harry swallowed. "We're going to have to... escape."

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Hermione said.

Ron seemed to know the answer already; he exchanged looks with Harry, then nodded solemnly. "We're going to have to jump out the window," he said.

"Out of a moving train?! Are you mad?!!"

"Hermione, we've got no other choice! Peter's going to come back here, you said so yourself!" He said Peter's name with extra venom. Harry knew Ron was still reeling from the revelation that his beloved rat, Scabbers, had turned out to be a fraud all along.

Hermione still looked dubious, looking from Harry to Ron, then gave Crookshanks another squeeze. "We're going to get ourselves killed," she muttered.

Perhaps that's a better way to die than being killed by Voldemort, thought Harry grimly.

Ron slid his arm around Hermione. "It's going to be all right," he was telling her, his voice as gentle as possible to calm her down. "I'll--Harry and I will be right there with you... Okay?"

Hermione nodded meekly but didn't say anything. Harry knew it took a lot for the normally unflappable Hermione to get scared over anything, and he hoped he and Ron would be able to talk her through what they had to do.

Not that he himself wasn't scared to death. Hermione was right; the train was going very fast, and they could very well get themselves very hurt. They didn't even have their broomsticks to rely on.

"It's got to be now," Harry said. "Peter'll be back soon, and if we're still here..."

"What do we do?" Ron's voice was steady and calm. Harry knew he must have been terrified inside as well, but he managed to hold it all together--for Hermione's sake, Harry guessed.

Harry thought for a moment, then looked at the window. "There," he pointed. "We'll have to jump out of this. As soon as you jump, pull out your wands and say, wingardium leviosa, and if we're lucky, we'll be able to levitate ourselves for a few seconds so the fall won't be so bad... Got it?"

Ron and Hermione both nodded.

"Ron, you go first, then you can help Hermione... I'll stand here and keep watch..."

Hermione, clutching Crookshanks, opened the window and shook as she breathed in deeply. "This is it..."

Then, suddenly, she grabbed Ron and gave him a hard, quick kiss on the cheek. Ron stood there, completely stunned, unable to make any words come out of his mouth.

"Go!" Hermione shouted, and just as Ron jumped, Hermione let out an ear-splitting scream--Peter had come back.

"Where are you going?!" he said, now using his true voice, even though he was still in his ridiculous get-up.

The next few seconds were a blur, as Harry grabbed Hermione with one hand, and Hedwig's cage with the other, then sped towards the open window. Peter chased after them, but Harry had already pushed Hermione and Hedwig out. He didn't have time to panic when he didn't hear Hermione say, wingardium leviosa, because Peter had grabbed hold of his ankle.

"LET GO OF ME!!"

"Come back here!! You're not going to get away from me again, you little brat!!"

"NO!!!" Harry screamed, just as he managed to pull his leg free from Peter's grasp, and he flung himself out the window. "Wingardium leviosa!!"

He floated for what seemed like only a few seconds--not nearly long enough to make his landing hurt any less. As he hit the snowy ground with a thud, he watched the train speed by and slowly got up to sitting.

Ron was running towards him.

"Harry!! Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I think so," he said. "Nothing broken, anyway..."

"Good... Where's Hermione?"

"I dunno-"

"Oh no!!"

Harry turned his head in the direction where Ron was looking and saw Hermione, lying motionless on the ground, Crookshanks meowing mournfully and licking her face.

"Hermione!! Hermione!"

Ron and Harry looked at each other in horror, then sprinted over to her, Harry's heart drumming wildly against his chest like a battering ram.

Please, he thought, please let her be all right...