The Great Hall, at dinnertime.
The candlelight above the long tables, like golden stars suspended in midair, gently enveloped the aroma of food and the students' chatter.
But none of that warmth could penetrate Harry and Ron's world.
Holding their plates, they stood side by side beside the Gryffindor table, like two ghosts who could not find a seat.
Their eyes searched the crowd uncontrollably for that familiar figure.
Then they saw her.
That single glance stopped Harry and Ron in their tracks.
Their breath caught, too.
Hermione was not at the Gryffindor table.
Nor was she at Ravenclaw's.
She sat in the middle of the Hufflepuff table, like a queen upon her throne.
A crowd of Hufflepuff students clustered tightly around her, forming a natural, impenetrable barrier.
Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott, Ernie Macmillan...
Those ordinarily gentle, friendly Hufflepuffs now guarded the person at their center like the most loyal of knights.
Before Hermione lay an enormous sheet of parchment that took up almost half the table.
Harry's and Ron's pupils suddenly contracted.
That sheet of parchment.
They recognized it.
The densely packed tables covering it, the complicated flowcharts, and the key points marked with quills of different colors...
It was the preliminary proposal Hermione had stayed up several nights to finish for the "Hogwarts Global Flavour Culinary Competition."
They had been among the first people involved in that proposal.
Harry still remembered offering a suggestion about "weighting the taste preferences of judges from different schools."
Ron...
The color drained from Ron's face in an instant.
He remembered even more clearly.
He remembered what he had said at the time.
"Oh, Hermione, don't make it sound like we're preparing for our O.W.L.s."
"Isn't it just a cooking competition? Does it have to be that complicated?"
He remembered how dismissive he