Book 7 (Well, not really.)

As Ron and Hermione drew each other into a warm embrace, Harry decided to reveal himself before things got positively awkward.

Drawing his wand, he concentrated and wordlessly cast quietus on Ron and Hermione. Hermione’s head twitched as the spell took effect. He regretted casting spells on his friends, but time was of the essence. He would explain later, when everyone was safe.

Harry drew back the hood of his father’s invisibility cloak and spoke.

“Ron, Hermione, I apologize for what I’ve done, but you’ve got to come with me. It’s not safe here.” he whispered. Even then, he felt it was too loud. He had been careful, true, but it was a terrible risk to come for them. Harry felt that anyone could be listening, even now.

At the sound of Harry’s voice, Ron scrambled away from Hermione. As he watched Ron jump with fear, he was thankful that the quietus spell had worked. Ron was the very picture of fear, eyes wide open, mouth agape, fingers white from his grip on Hermione’s arm. Even with the spell, Harry swore that he could hear Ron’s scream, as though from a great distance.

Ron stopped when he realized who it was. As Harry watched, Ron’s expression of fear quickly turned into relief, amazement, and finally anger, all in the span of five seconds.

Harry’s hand came out from under the invisibility cloak and he put a finger to his lips. Ron and Hermione nodded. Harry pointed his wand at the pair and flicked his wand. Ron rubbed his throat while Hermione hugged Harry.

Hermione spoke, her voice a whisper. “It’s good to see you. When you didn’t return our mail, Ron and I suspected the worst.” She looked at Ron, then at Harry. Her eyes were filled with tears. “Where have you been?”

“That’s not important,” said Harry as he broke from Hermione’s embrace. He circled the compartment, and checked the doors and windows.

“Right now,” Harry’s eyes narrowed to slits. “We have to get off the Hogwart’s Express.”

“But why?” Ron’s voice was too loud, and Hermione shut him with a glare. She turned to Harry.

“It’s Snape, isn’t it?” She whispered. “He’s here.”

Harry nodded. The rest of the invisibility cloak fell to the floor and revealed Harry wearing a black turtleneck with leather robes. From one of the inside pockets, he produced a cigarette and put it to his lips. Harry touched it with the tip of his wand, and a small flame erupted, lighting it. The tip burned brightly as he drew. After a moment, he exhaled grey smoke towards the top of the cabin.

“Snape’s on the mother fucking train.”

— End Chapter 1, Book 7