            Sighing, Hermione canceled her Lumos and stretched out over the silky sheets. "And there will be a grey tunnel," she recited in a whisper, the prophecy now engrained in her head. "One side made. One side born. One side holds the key. One side holds the lock. Between them lies magic’s end." This part, she didn’t have a clue about. She wasn’t aware of any tunnels in the magical world. The magic’s end, though, was more than worrisome. If the prophecy played out to fruition, she might have the weight of the world on her shoulders. Again.