But this was different. Everything was in vivid colour. Hermione was aware of the wind whipping past her face. There was a bitterly cold breeze in the fall air and she could smell a distant burning of leaves. She was in Diagon Alley, not far from the Ministry. She was just outside an apparition point, hurrying along a dark cobbled street. Heavy rain drops fell from the night sky above. The faster she ran, the more puddles of water splashed upon and drenched the ends of her cloak. 