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far more optimistic about the day that followed considering there was no real reason to worry about Harry getting fatally injured at the Quidditch match. Of course, at the back of her mind there was always the thought of Dobby emerging again, but the way Harry explained their encounter after the last match, it seemed that the house elf wasn't going to interfere again.

To add to her good mood, it was a beautiful day outside. Saffron couldn't help but smile as she and Hermione walked down to the Gryffindor table for breakfast. The sun was splitting the stones and the breeze was becoming the lovely Summer breeze that they had been missing through the early Spring months.

"I would say that I wish it was like this every day," Saffron gestured at the weather, to Hermione, who too seemed far more relaxed about the day ahead of them. "But then it wouldn't feel as special,"

"The novelty would wear off, yes," agreed Hermione, squinting as she looked out at the sunlight. "Hopefully Harry won't be playing into the sun, he's already at such a disadvantage with his eyes,"

"How nice is it to just be worrying about his eyes rather than a murder attempt?" chuckled Saffron, although Hermione was slightly more sinister about it. Even though she was relaxed too, it was evident that there was an underlying fear that the girl had in relation to what could happen.

"That's how we felt with the Slytherin match, and look how that turned out," remarked Hermione grimly.

"Yes, Professor Goldilocks got rid of all of the bones in Harry's arms, how can I forget,"

"I was talking about the rogue bludger," retorted Hermione hotly. "And I asked you not to call him that. How about I agree not to call Luna Loony and you agree not to call Professor Lockhart any names?"

Saffron sighed but gave Hermione her pinky finger so they could promise to not do so.

The girls entered the Great Hall and took seats opposite Lavender and Parvati. Harry sat with his Quidditch teammates who were attempting to coax him into eating something. No seats were available around him, but Saffron wasn't sure she would have taken seats next to them anyway. As Lavender was always the source of amusement on Quidditch days, as a result of the girls mutual adoration of one Oliver Wood.

"Oliver will be such a good dad," Lavender was leaning on her elbow, holding her face in her hand and gawking at Oliver dreamily.

"How come?" Saffron asked her, exchanging a glance with Parvati who was grinning. Meanwhile, Hermione was buried under a book about Divination, one of their potential electives for the next year.

"See how he's feeding them," Lavender told her, making Saffron look up to see that Oliver was putting specific foods onto his team's plate.

Saffron couldn't help but laugh at the conclusion that Lavender had come to based off of one simple act. But, she didn't disagree with the girl and proceeded to enthuse about Oliver until Harry came over asking if they wanted to walk up to the common room with him to get his Quidditch stuff. Saffron was well aware that this was an excuse to talk about Riddle's Diary. The night previous, Harry had been particularly bothered about it falling into the wrong hands. Saffron was worried too. She had never had a particularly good feeling about the object, due to the sheer amount of horror stories she had heard about cursed objects. If the Heir of Slytherin got their hands on it or even back on it, it could spell more trouble for the school as a whole. Saffron was frustrated that she hadn't insisted that Harry hand it in as soon as they located it after Christmas.

To make matters worse, no sooner had they set foot on the marble staircase did Harry emit a loud, fearful yelp. He froze in his spot and Saffron's natural reaction was to jolt away from him in the opposite direction. Hermione and Ron had done likewise.

"The voice!" exclaimed Harry, he looked over his shoulder in terror. "I just heard it again - didn't you?"

Saffron narrowed her eyes at him in confusion. Ron shook his head, paling. Whilst Hermione let out a squeak and hit herself on the forehead.

"Harry - I think I've just understood something! I've got to go to the library!"

Without any further delay, she hurried up the stairs and was soon out of eyesight. Saffron felt an urge to follow her. But for some reason, she had an encounter with something that she hadn't felt since Olly and Emilia were petrified.

It felt Grey. And it felt like her mother.

"Stay put,"

There was a firmness to the voice that Saffron felt herself obeying. All of a sudden, everything had gone blurry. She wasn't able to think straight or see clearly. But no other instinct was considered other than to listen. So, she just stood there and listened to Harry speaking, in unadulterated confusion.

"Why's she got to go to the library?"

"Because that's what Hermione does," said Ron, shrugging. "When in doubt, go to the library,"

"Wait..." Saffron said, almost distantly. "Harry, what did the voice say?"

Harry blinked. "Something about . . . something about killing . . . " Saffron suddenly snapped out of the state of Grey she was in. If she remembered correctly, when Harry heard that voice someone had gotten hurt. He heard it when they found Mrs Norris. He had heard the night Colin tried to sneak down to him, the evening of the Duelling Club, when Justin and Nick were found and he was hearing it now. That had to mean something sinister. Meaning the chances of an attack were high. Saffron instantly paled. Hermione had just set off in pursuit of the library - alone.

"You better get moving," said Ron uneasily, though it was clear where his main priorites lied. "It's nearly eleven – the match."

With a nod, Harry set off as quickly as Hermione had done towards Gryffindor Tower. All the while, Saffron stood there still and deep in thought. It wasn't until Ron said her name imaptiently, beckoning for her to walk down towards the grounds, as people were flooding out of the halls in order to get there.

"I--" began Saffron distractedly in response. She bit her lip anxciously. "I'll meet you down there, I'll go and see what Hermione's up to,"

Ron sighed but nodded. "Well, I'll see you later on I guess. We'll be in the same seets," Saffron nodded and watched him join up with their fellow second year Gryffindors who were on their way towards the pitch. She stood there watching them for several seconds before making her way to the library.

The eerie silence that Saffron heard when she made her way onto the fourth corridor was to be expected. Very few people didn't watch the Quidditch matches, especially considering there were only a handful every year. She headed up the stairs to the fourth corridor nervously and peered around the corner, upon seeing the coast was clear she set foot into the library.

Letting out muffled breathes, Saffron felt startled that she was still hearing nothing. Not a sound was coming from anything that didn't belong to her. She had figured that she would have heard Hermione roaming through the library, even ever so slightly. She attempted to put those worries to bed by uttering:

"Hermione?"

No answer.

Rather, there was no verbal answer, but an answer came her way moments later. As when Saffron turned a corner, she stopped in her tracks and let out a shriek.

Lying on the floor was a Ravenclaw prefect, who Saffron knew as Penelope Clearwater, frozen still with a fearful grimace etched upon her face. But next to her was a girl who Saffron knew an awful lot about. Her brown eyes were wide and bulging out of their sockets, the fear of what had happened to her still fixed on her face. Saffron wasn't surprised to see Hermione in front of her but that didn't make it any easier.

Feeling petrified herself, dizzy, sore, crushed and Grey, all Saffron remembered was collapsing onto the floor, awaiting the arrival of the Grey.