why he would pass up on the perfect opportunity to further goad her, but when she turned to look at him, the dark scowl on his face waylaid any further thoughts on the matter.
Matching their mood, the heavy clouds overhead finally followed through with drizzle. The air smelled heavily of ozone by the time they reached the start of the path and were greeted by a decidedly grubbier-looking Ron, Millicent and their small pile of Tangleweed.
Ron looked thrilled to be caught out in the rain, a thankful reprieve from the stifling humidity. He grinned at her, turning his face up to the soon-to-be downpour. His enjoyment was contagious.
But even as Hermione waved back, Ron's face drained of all colour as he stared in mute horror at the treetops behind them. Hermione was vaguely aware that Millicent was shrieking and bolting for the castle.
Feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, Hermione turned around to have a look, but not before Malfoy knocked the wind out of her. And Ron too, it seemed. He was dragging both of them away.
"Malfoy wha-"
"Granger, shut up and keep moving!" Draco shouted. He was as white as Ron.
The reason for this was soon readily observable. In the trees behind them, steadily growing in size and height, was the Dark Mark.
Hermione felt her blood turn to ice
It blazed over the treetops in an eerie, glowing silver. A smoky serpent slithered from the gaping mouth of the skull and wrapped itself around it, making the entire thing suddenly more solid, more corporeal. The Mark seemed to throb and hum, charging the air around them.
They couldn't have been the only ones to notice it. The thing had been launched high enough to be seen by at least half of Hogsmeade and all of Hogwarts.
From the direction of the greenhouse, Hermione could see Lupin barking orders. Students were running back to the castle at top speed. A smaller group of students, headed by Lupin, sprinted towards them.
Lupin's wand was still sputtering red sparks when he arrived. He had obviously alerted the rest of the castle. "Is everyone alright?" he asked, his eyes taking quick stock of Draco, Hermione and Ron.
"We' re okay," Hermione said, breathless. "Is everyone else accounted for?"
she immediately asked, her Head Girl common sense kicking in.
"Yes. You, Draco, Ron and Millicent were the last to return," Lupin informed. He herded the group further away from the edge of the forest, paying particular attention to Harry, who seemed intent on staying right where he was. Ron remained resolutely beside him.
Lupin looked ropable. "Everyone, report to the Great Hall and to your Head of House immediately, or you will face my intense displeasure. Is that understood? Harry!"
Harry was staring intently at Hermione "Did you see anything? Anything at all?" he asked her. She could only shake her head.
"Oh! Look!" Parvati gasped, pointing to the Mark.
The Mark was changing. The muted silver of the skull faded before becoming a bright, glowing green, and the enveloping serpent seemed to grow and expand with scales and clawed feet. Its blunt serpent's head lengthened into a snout. The forked tongue remained the same, however. It flicked repeatedly over the skull, leaving a whispery trail of silver smoke in the air.
The snake had become a dragon.
Hermione felt a sharp, painful burst of panic in Malfoy. It was like being kicked in the stomach. Unable to stop herself, she clutched at her middle and would have toppled sideways into Ron if Malfoy hadn't grabbed her shoulders to steady her.
"It's starting again," Blaise said softly, his dark eyes fixed to the sky. The rain was coming down heavily now, blurring the image of the Mark. It was almost like looking at a rippling reflection.
Lavender was clutching onto Parvati's forearm with both hands. "Professor Lupin, what's happening?" she whispered.
Harry was the one who answered. His expression might have been cast in granite.
"That's the Malfoy Standard! Lucius Malfoy must be free!"
Chapter Eleven
It took all of twenty minutes for the entire school to be gathered and confined to the Great Hall, such was the efficiency of the prefects and teachers in spreading the alert. Two years of occasional drills, at the behest of the Minister for Magic, had worked well in preparing the students for just such an eventuality.
"Siege drills," Arthur Wealsey called them, despite Molly' s insistence that the name was likely more frightening than the actual exercise.
The enchanted ceiling of the Hall mirrored the minor panic of