"Oh, maybe," Lavender smiled thinly. "I was a Gryiffindor, I-" As she took his hand and stood, she went suddenly very still, her gaze trained upward, no longer on his face. Her grip on his hand had even become rigid and when she spoke after a long moment's silence her voice was tense and low. "At the next begging the hope is false and he will return to the end for their help is faulty. All will return to possible ends within three dawns."
She squeezed his hand tightly and gasped. Her eyes rolled back and then she released her grip on him and fell to the ground.