Nightrise Over Revelations

A more formidable task had never been imagined, thought Hermione Granger, staring out of the bay window of Ginny Weasley's bedroom at the Burrow. She bent her head, tired, insomniac, against the glass and sat for several minutes in silence, meditating over this new, albeit somewhat expected, information.

"Oh, Harry," the words left her lips in a whisper, as small twin tears rolled down her cheeks. This responsibility burdens far too heavily for one person, for so young a person, for so dear a friend, she thought. And the weight of this line brought her shoulders to, not break, but straighten.

Legs curled beneath her, she sat back against the frame of the wall, considering the clear summer night's sky. She let her eyes glaze slightly, and the thousands of stars blared out from their silk curtain, vast sovereign entities played out against one another over the infinite and bleak universe.

Wizards had, millennia ago, attempting to make sense of the lights and voids, mapped out the night sky in patterns and constellations. Hermione had always found it an odd part of astronomical studies, that giants of the universe, spread thousands of light-years apart, would find themselves grouped in formation as neighbors by the minor, mortal beings of a faraway planet. Surely, such presumption could only be a target of cosmic mockery. Nonetheless, it did provide some fun in stargazing, picking out the invented characters, and her mind settled into the calm, academic repetition. Orion, in the east, the sparkling line of his belt rivaling the glow of Polaris, which pointed along the form of Ursa Minor to his big brother. These dominators of the night sky were always a good starting point. From there, she found the large blue glow of Saturn, charging the great warrior from between Taurus's horns. Next in the Zodiac came Gemini, with Castor and Pollux, the divine twins. A slight smile came to her at the thought of Fred and George terrorizing neighbor Cancer, the homemaker, who would obviously be Mrs. Weasley.

After the crab, Hermione found Regulus, the bright heart of Leo, and traced that constellation's hook form, the lion's face and mane, as he roamed overhead. Her breath caught in her throat as she surveyed the surrounding scene. Below Leo wound the long form of the serpent, Hydra, holding Mars captive in its coils. Perhaps Professor Sinestra and Firenze were worth listening to after all, she thought, and, with a brief nod to Canis Major, she stood to return to her bed -

And jumped to find Ginny sitting up and looking at her. By the moonlight, Hermione could see that Ginny's eyes were red and cheeks splotchy. She rushed over to her friend.

"Ginny, what's wrong? Did I wake you?" she whispered, taking the younger girl's hand. "I'm so sorry. Would you like some water?" She moved to grab the pitcher on the nightstand.

"Don't bother yourself; I'm fine," said Ginny croakily.

"Then why have you been crying?" asked Hermione, frowning in confusion. Ginny wasn't the type of girl to over-emotionalize.

Ginny held her eyes. "The same reason as you."

Hermione let go of her hand. Ginny had not been with them that afternoon in Ron's bedroom, when Harry had talked of Professor Dumbledore's confession and Trelawney's prophecy.

"What do you mean?" she asked, on guard. Harry had most decidedly not told anyone else, and she would not betray his confidence by simply spilling it out at the first opportunity.

"Don't be dense, Hermione. You've seen the extendable ears."

Hermione stood up and glared indignantly at Ginny.

"You were eavesdropping?!" Her voice came out louder than intended, and Ginny shushed her.

"Don't shout; you'll wake everyone up!" She grabbed Hermione's elbow and pulled her back down, face softening from defiance to guilt and sadness.

"Look. I'm sorry, okay? But I hate being left out of anything that's happening with Voldemort." The name pushed out of her like a curse.

Hermione felt sympathy for her. Of course it was terrible to be effected by the upcoming war while being left in the dark as to what's happening. "But that doesn't justify spying. This is Harry's business, and he's going to have a hard enough time dealing with it without the whole world knowing."

Ginny's arms folded across her chest. "I'm not the whole world!" She looked as if she would launch into a diatribe, and Hermione bit her own lip, sorry for what she had said. But then Ginny sighed, laying her head against the headboard. "This isn't about me. And I wouldn't want to be the focus of so much expectation and destiny." She turned to look out the window, and her voice came quieter now, so that Hermione had to strain to hear her. "But I do want to help."

"I know," said Hermione. "And Harry will need all the help that we can give. We must be prepared to give up everything for this need. It's beyond us." She looked back at Mars, risen now from the serpent to hang before Leo, the immortal shapes playing their mythological game; Regulus, the heart, and all of his unnamed companions, sparkling in formation behind him.

She looked back to Ginny and squeezed her hand. "The burden is his to carry, but we will all lift him up on our shoulders and carry him."

Ginny nodded, and they went then to sleep, uncertain of tomorrow, but decided to face it with courage and unity.