"What? What is it? What's happened?" Hermione asked, ignoring the movie that her parents were watching.
"Look, Hermione! Just look!" her father said, her mother being unable to talk with her hand covering her mouth, a look of horror on her face.
Hermione turned confusedly to the TV. There seemed to be some science fiction show on there. The quality wasn't great – obviously, whoever had shot this wanted to give the impression that it was happening a long way away.
Her confusion turned to a frown as she tried to piece together what she was seeing. If her parents had insisted that she come straight home and watch this, there must be something particular about it.
The scene was set in a large city. Centred above the tall buildings was a huge black hole in the sky, a beam of bright blue connecting it to the top of one of the taller buildings. From out of the mouth of the great black hole, small things were emerging, only to fly away, bursts of blue energy shooting from them. And then there was something bigger, much, much bigger. It looked kind of like a flying whale. A flying whale wearing armour.
The screen snapped to a different angle of the city and Hermione got her first good look at the things flying about the city. They looked like flying bikes or maybe chariots, being piloted by strange grey aliens.
The camera zoomed out and Hermione gasped. The building that the blue beam of light was connected to was very familiar, indeed, she'd been within a hundred metres of it not that long ago.
"Tell me this isn't real," she gasped, sinking to her knees.
"It's real, Baby," her father replied, disbelief clear in his voice. "Started a short time ago. This is live in New York City."
"Harry," Hermione whispered, her hands coming up to cover her mouth, a trickle of tears beginning to fall.
The three sat there in stunned silence as they watched the destruction happen. People were being shot; buildings destroyed; cars blown up.
And then the cameraman was able to show that there was resistance. There were people fighting back.
Iron Man, zipping around the city, shooting the things from the sky with his hand lasers. A man in silver armour and a bright red cape holding on to the top of the Chrysler building, raising a hammer and summoning lightning. A man shooting at the aliens with a bow and arrow. The great green Hulk jumping about, smashing everything non-human in sight. A man with a shield, named as Captain America, working with a red-haired woman in black to fight the aliens in the street. A man in a blue-grey cloak using some kind of invisible shield to protect people from harm.
"No! Go back!" Hermione yelled at the TV after the camera had switched away from the cloaked man.
"Hermione?" her mother asked.
"Harry! I'm sure that was Harry! He's got a cloak just like that; Charlie Weasley gave it to him, it's made from the hide of a Swedish Short-Snout dragon," she explained.
"Harry?" her mother repeated.
"Dragon?" her father latched on to.
"Yes, and that shield could only have been done with magic. A protego, if I'm not mistaken," she said.
The nerve level in the small room ratcheted up tenfold from then on as the three eagerly hoped to see Harry Potter still protecting, still fighting, still alive.
Finally, after who knew how long, Iron Man was seen carrying a missile through the city and then up, straight into the black hole above the city. They, like the world around them, held their breath as the hole closed until they saw the falling form of Tony Stark.
Then, the fight was over and news reporters were put on the screens, talking about the destruction and the incredible, unbelievable things that had just happened, not to mention the extraordinary individuals who'd saved them all.
The instant that they started to show repeated footage, Hermione was up and heading for the door.
"Hermione? Where are you going? I doubt that the phone lines are working in that area right now," her father said.
Hermione shook her head. "I know that Dad. And talking to Harry wouldn't be enough. All he'd say would be that he's fine. No. I'm going there. I'm sure Kingsley can get me an International portkey. I'm sure that I'm owed that at least."
"Wait up, Hermione," her mother said. "if you drop me at your place, I can get a bag packed for you while you're talking to Minister Shacklebolt."
"Thanks, Mum, I'd appreciate it," Hermione said, before grabbing hold of her mother's arm and apparating them away.
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