A/N: So here we are, at the start of Chapter Three. This chapter (and most likely the subsequent one) will be from Hermione's POV, so that I can tell both sides of the story. I also think I've finally figured out exactly where I want this story to go, so things are looking up. As always I appreciate feedback, the negative even more than the positive, so please keep it coming. Enjoy!
The crack of dawn light seeping through the windows of the common-room was enough to wake Hermione. She had slept later than usual - it was almost seven already - but she was still exhausted.
Harry, she noted with amusement, despite all of his talk about how uncomfortable chairs were, was still asleep in one, his eyelids twitching as he dreamed. She got up quietly, as not to wake him, and slipped up the stairs to her dormitory. The other girls were still sound asleep, so Hermione got changed quickly, doing her best not to disturb them.
She was running very late, but she still had almost an hour before breakfast to practice her Colour-Changing Charm. Professor McGonagall had just introduced it yesterday, but by the end of class Hermione could only get it to work seven times out of ten, and the final colour was usually off by a shade or two, so she really should put some good hard work into it today.
She knew she would be the only one of her class worrying about the charm today, which McGonagall had said was one of the most complex ones they would learn this year, and which she didn't expect them to be able to perform successfully for a week or so, but in her mind, the sooner she mastered it the sooner she could move on.
She stopped by the Great Hall, which was on the way to the practice rooms, to pick up a piece of fruit to use for the charm. She was rummaging through one of the fruit bowls, looking for an orange (they were supposed to be the most difficult to change) when an owl swooped past her left shoulder, dropping a package on the table.
She could tell from the gaudy colours and swirling font that it was somebody's Witch Weekly subscription, which she normally wouldn't even glance at, but the headline caught her eye.
'Triwizard Love Triangle,' it read. Below that, in slightly smaller font: 'Why Harry Potter and Viktor Krum are rivals for more than the Triwizard Cup. More inside, from acclaimed journalist Rita Skeeter.'
The cover showed a picture of Harry, Hermione, Viktor and Ron just after the four of them surfaced from the lake, only Ron had been cut out of the picture, leaving Viktor glaring at the other two.
Hermione scowled loudly, startling Nearly-Headless Nick, who swerved halfway into a wall out of surprise.
"Morning, Miss Granger," he said, but Hermione was too busy flipping through the magazine to respond.
She had a sinking feeling she knew exactly what Rita was up to this time, although how Rita could have known about any of it she really didn't- there it was, page 44.
A boy with a talent for victory against the toughest of odds may finally have found a battle he cannot win, writes Rita Skeeter. Harry Potter's success in the second task of the Triwizard Tournament yesterday was overshadowed by his choice not to rescue his own hostage, his friend Ronald Weaselbee, but instead his other close friend Hermione Granger, the assigned hostage and Yule Ball date of the famed Bulgarian Seeker Viktor Krum. In fact, Mr Krum seemed to wish to strengthen his relationship with Miss Granger, finding a moment after the task to invite her to visit him over the summer. Miss Granger said she needed time to think, a response that will no doubt prove to be telling in the context of what happened next. After the scores for the task were announced, Mr Potter and Mr Krum were seen walking into the forest, alone, to discuss the incident. The Bulgarian didn't go so far as to accuse Mr Potter of cheating, but he did ask why the youngest champion chose to rescue Miss Granger instead of his friend, Ronald Wheezy. When Mr Potter provided an answer that was evasive at best, he was pressed by the Durmstrang champion, who asked him exactly what there was between himself and Miss Granger. Potter denied any romantic involvement with Miss Granger, but Mr Krum appeared less than convinced by this answer. The two finally parted with a handshake, at which point Mr Krum said to his rival, "may the best man win". Now he may have been talking about the tournament, but this reporter thinks the 17-year old Bulgarian was referring to an entirely different competition - one for the attentions of the suddenly popular Miss Granger. With the third task of the tournament rapidly approaching, the stakes seem to have been raised yet again for two of our four champions. More to come next week on the ongoing development of this saga.
Hermione pushed the article away in disgust. Rita Skeeter had absolutely no shame, no sense of journalistic ethics whatsoever, hardly even any morals it seemed. She would write anything so long as she thought it would sell well.
She wasn't inclined to believe anything that came from Rita's quill, and this article was even less credible than usual. There was no love triangle at the tournament, and certainly not one involving her.
But even Rita wouldn't dare write something that didn't have at least some minuscule kernel of fact hidden away in it. Judging from the article, she had not only known that Harry and Viktor had talked, but she had some idea - no matter how much she had twisted it for her purposes - of what they had talked about. She even quoted Viktor at one point, so it seemed likely that she had found some way to eavesdrop upon their conversation.
She had known about Viktor inviting her to Bulgaria as well, which certainly shouldn't be possible.
Yet Dumbledore had had the good sense to ban Rita from the grounds after the first task, and if any of the professors had seen her wandering around she would have been unceremoniously thrown out. She must have snuck in somehow without being seen. She couldn't have used an invisibility cloak, or Moody would have seen her. A Disillusionment Charm might have worked, but if she was moving around through busy areas somebody would either have noticed the shimmer that the charm left in the air or simply bumped into her.
Polyjuice Potion seemed possible.. she could have disguised herself as somebody else, somebody who was entitled to enter the grounds, but then Harry and Viktor would have seen her when they talked in the forest.
Hermione started walking towards the library, suddenly determined to figure out how Rita was obtaining her scoops - no doubt it was some highly illegal method - and to put an end to it. She didn't have the time to deal with any more trashy, misleading articles.
Hermione dropped her bags in the corner chair where she always sat, before looking through the spells section of the library. She remembered seeing a book here back a few years ago; she couldn't recall the title, but it had discussed magical methods of concealing oneself. It was the book in which she had first come across a mention of Polyjuice Potion, although she had had to spend a significant amount of time after that attempting to find a book that detailed how to prepare it.
It had been a thin book, with golden writing on a dark navy spine - she remembered that much, and it didn't take her long to find it on a shelf.
Magical Methods of Concealment, the title read. Well that was obvious enough.
She flipped to the table of contents - each chapter of the book was devoted to a different charm, spell or potion. She scanned through the list; most of the methods she recognized, and had already ruled out. There were one or two that she hadn't heard of, and she made a mental note to look them up later, but the item that caught her attention was the very last one: Self-Transfiguration (Animagus etc.)
Something clicked in Hermione's mind. There had been a water beetle in her hair when she emerged from the lake. Viktor had taken it out, but it could easily have crawled onto him without him realizing. It could have still been on him when he and Harry had talked later on.
If Rita could transform herself into a beetle… if she was an Animagus… it would explain how she was always hearing things that she shouldn't have been able to hear, how she always snuck into places where she wasn't allowed.
It was exactly what Hermione had been hoping for; she had memorized the short list of registered Animagi in the United Kingdom, and Rita wasn't one of them. If she was an Animagus, and wasn't registered, then she could face time in Azkaban if proof found its way to the proper authorities.
The only question was whether it was even possible to have a beetle as one's Animagus form to begin with. All of the Animagi that Hermione had read about transformed into reasonably large animals: dogs, cats, deer, that sort of thing. Something the size of a beetle was unheard of, but that didn't mean it wasn't possible. She just had to find a book on the Animagus transformation; no doubt it would contain a section that discussed how a wizard or witch's Animagus form was determined.
That would have to wait for later though, as it was almost nine o'clock, and Harry and Ron would be worried if she wasn't in the Great Hall for breakfast.
When she slipped into her usual seat at the Great Hall, exchanging good mornings with Harry and Ron, the latter had picked up the Witch Weekly article and was reading it, the expression on his face growing more and more concerned as he did.
"You've got water on your glasses, by the way," she said to Harry, who had somehow managed to get a few droplets on the frame.
"That would be from Ron's idea of a gentle way to wake me up," he replied, wiping them on his sleeve. "First time I've seen him use Aguamenti properly."
"Tried everything else first," Ron muttered, approaching the bottom of the article. Finally he finished it, giving Hermione an incredulous look.
She cut him off before he could even ask. "It's just Rita being Rita. Trying to sell herself by making up sensational nonsense, as per usual."
"Have you read this yet, Harry?" he asked.
Harry shook his head, taking the article from Ron.
"What I don't get is how she knows anything about what happened," Ron said to her, his breakfast temporarily forgotten. "Dumbledore banned her from the grounds, didn't he?"
"I think I might know how she's doing it. And if I'm right, that article will be the last one she writes about any of us."
Harry frowned as he finished the article, giving it back to Hermione.
"Rita's losing her touch," he commented, putting another piece of french toast on his plate. "Given her usual talent for inventiveness, I was expecting an account of how Viktor and I duelled to the death over the fatherhood of your unborn child."
"Very funny," Hermione snapped. "This is bad enough, don't you think? Now everybody who reads this is going to think you and Viktor have it out for each other, and that I'm some kind of… I don't even know."
"Scarlet woman?" Ron offered, more seriously than he should have.
"You always know just what to say, don't you. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to the library to put an end to this."
"We've got Potions in ten minutes, Hermione," Harry said, unnecessarily.
"I know. Take notes for me, will you. And good ones, not the ones you take when you know I'll lend you mine."
With that she got up from the table, grabbed her bag, and walked away, leaving her breakfast barely half-eaten.
"It's not like anybody reads that rag anyway," Ron said to Harry as she left. "I mean, it's only middle-aged witches with nothing better to do."
"Your mother has a subscription," Harry reminded him. "And Parvati, and Lavender, and probably half the girls in the castle."
Hermione was glad when she was far enough away that she couldn't hear their conversation anymore. When she left the Great Hall and found a deserted hallway she leaned against the wall, and forced herself to take three deep breaths. She didn't get truly angry often, but she knew from experience that if she didn't take the time to calm herself down she'd walk around yelling at people all day.
It was just so vicious of Rita. Even more so than usual. The whole thing had been resolved perfectly between Harry and Viktor, the latter had understood that there was nothing between her and Harry, but now this would get the whole castle talking about it, and no doubt rumours would spread, and Viktor might start questioning what Harry had told him, and that couldn't possibly end well for any of them.
It made Harry look horrible too, like Harry was trying to steal her from Viktor, even though, in her mind, she hadn't exactly been "claimed".
She didn't know what to think about Viktor. He was tall, and dark-haired, and a superb athlete, and nice enough, if a little taciturn. She had enjoyed their kiss, and there were plenty of things she liked about him, but… well… he was three years older than her. They didn't have all that much in common either, besides the occasional mutual desire to get away from other people.
He had been a wonderful Yule Ball date, if not her first choice, and she would do it all again in a heartbeat, but she wasn't sure how well he was suited to mean anything more than that to her. She couldn't visit him in Bulgaria, she had known that already, as soon as he had asked her, but she'd wanted to spare his feelings. It was much too big of a step, and a long trip as well, which would no doubt get her parents asking all sorts of worried parental questions that she had no desire to deal with.
Hermione sighed. She'd been putting off talking to Viktor, but now, especially given that the article had come out, she should really go find him. She would talk to him after she finished at the library, she promised herself. Taking care of Rita was the top priority.
Madam Pince seemed entirely unsurprised to see her entering the library for the second time in as many hours.
"I'm looking for a book detailing the Animagus transformation," Hermione said to her. She could probably have found it herself, but that would have taken longer, and she didn't want to waste time.
Madam Pince didn't even bat an eyelash at the request. "If you're thinking about attempting to develop the transformation ability, I would recommend talking with Professor McGonagall first."
"It's purely for academic purposes. Even I'm not crazy enough to try to become an Animagus while still in school."
Madam Pince didn't laugh. "Third shelf from the back, on your left, just below eye level."
Hermione thanked her, before walking over to the indicated shelf. There was, much to her surprise, only one book on the shelf, but it was massive, easily bigger than any that Hermione had seen before. It took up the whole shelf by itself, and Hermione, after looking around to make sure Madam Pince wasn't watching, had to use a Levitation Charm to move it over to a reading table.
When she opened the front cover a cloud of dust blew into her face, causing her to cough. By the looks of it, the book hadn't been touched for a good fifty or sixty years - maybe not even since Professor McGonagall had first started considering becoming an Animagus herself.
Thankfully the back of the book contained a detailed index, and it didn't take Hermione long to find the page that she needed.
A witch or wizard's Animagus form cannot be chosen; it is an innate quality that is fixed from birth, and generally based upon one's personality. For those who may fear going through the immensely complicated process to become an Animagus, only to find that their animal form is highly undesirable, consider that one's Animagus form generally corresponds to the form of one's corporeal Patronus. It is also worth noting that, while most recorded animal forms tend to be of either birds or large mammals, there is no reason that either the size or the type of animal should be any constraint on potential forms.
So it was possible, then. Rita was an Animagus, with the ability to change her shape into that of a water beetle. Hermione was sure of it. A plan started forming in her head, a devious, vengeful, satisfying plan that would make sure Rita's Quick-Quotes Quill never touched parchment again.
Hermione walked out of the library, forgetting to put the book back, her mind spinning as she figured out what she would need. A glass jar, a lid with a few air holes, a leaf of lettuce, and some way to allow beetle-Rita to show that she understood Hermione's terms.
Hermione couldn't help but smile as she walked down the hallway, the grin on her face causing first-years to give her a wide berth. Things were looking up.
