"Hermione, wait!"

Harry ran the last few steps to where she was standing, near the third floor corridor they had been forbidden from their first year. He paused.

"What's going on?" he asked her seriously.

"What do you mean— with the talent contest? You know how busy I am, Harry, and we were supposed to work tog—"

"No, not about the contest, what's the matter with you," Harry blurted, his voice rising. "Don't think I haven't noticed— you're not coming to meals, you're always working, even after you quit the extra classes, and to top it all off I saw that man talking to you the other day!"

Hermione looked frightened. Harry could be very intimidating when he chose to; his voice seemed to boom at her from all directions.

"What is going on?" he repeated, a bit more gently.

"You saw Professor Czantak talking to me?"

"Yes, if that's his name."

She sighed. She couldn't cover it up any longer. "Fine. No one is supposed to know about this, but I'll tell you anyway, and you won't remember it all very well! Meet me in the common room after supper." Hermione pivoted and walked through the door to the Charms corridor.

Harry stood there, bewildered. Hermione's last statement had made no sense— why wouldn't he remember? "Oh..." he murmured as the answer hit him. "So that's what she means."

*************************************

Since Fred's discussion with Ginny, he seemed to have calmed down a bit. He'd told George all about it, and George had acted as Fred had. Once in the corridor, Ginny and Addison had walked by hand in hand and Fred had barely looked at them. Ginny approved greatly of this, and Mrs. Weasley's return letter had been very cheerful indeed, saying she was thoroughly happy for Ginny and she'd like to meet Addison sometime. Addison seemed to accept it all. He still liked Ginny more than ever, although several other girls were starting to show interest in him. He didn't care; he was taken, and nothing could change that fact.

One rainy Wednesday a little over a week after Ginny had written the letter to her mother, she noticed George staring at her.

"What?" she asked irritably.

George had a mischievous glint in his eye. He took a large breath and said as loudly as he could without shouting, "Ginny Weasley, is that a hickey on your neck?! Say, aren't you dating Addison LaMaren?"

Several people sitting nearby snickered and turned to look at her.

Blushing madly, Ginny asked her roommate, Bridget Halmson, for her mirror (Hermione wasn't at breakfast for some reason, Ginny had noticed that she wasn't turning up for a lot of meals lately) and checked her neck.

"There's nothing there, George," she hissed angrily, "What d'you think you're playing at?"

As Ginny met up with Addison after breakfast, she told him what had happened. Addison's eyes flashed.

"What does he think he's playing at?" he growled, hugging her to him. "Anyway, even if you did have a hickey, it's none of his business how you got it."

Ginny felt horrible; apart from George's remarks she'd noticed that a lot of popular girls had been hanging around Addison lately. Although she knew he was loyal to her and would never cheat, she was worried. The girls in Ravenclaw are very aggressivepretty, too, she thought dispassionately. Suddenly she stamped the thought out of her mind. He will not cheat on me!

*************************************

Harry and Ron bolted down the last morsels of roast beef and potatoes from their plates and, avoiding Hermione's gaze (she was bent over a Potions book, so it wasn't very difficult), rushed into the Entrance Hall. Nearly everyone was still eating. As they ascended the staircase two steps at a time, they could hear voices from the Great Hall echoing merrily and dishes clinking. Five minutes later, they arrived at the common room. They dashed up the spiral staircase and into their dormitory.

"Where is it?" asked Harry breathlessly, once the door was shut.

Ron's eyes kept darting to the door and back. He thought a moment. "Dean said he keeps it under his mattress so no one finds out about it..."

Both boys promptly ran to Dean Thomas's bed, lifted up the thick scarlet covers, and plunged their hands between the two mattresses. "Oh! I've got it!" cried Ron, seizing something in his hands and examining it.

"Lemme see, I know how to work it; I grew up with Muggles," Harry suggested, reaching for the device. While Ron watched, he pressed a few buttons. There was a reassuring click, and he stuffed the thing into his robes. "Let's go."

Ron followed Harry out the door and into the common room, where they sat playing Wizard's Chess while waiting for Hermione. When she walked through the door the two of them looked at her and quickly back at each other, apparently nervous about what she was going to tell them. Harry reached inside his robes as she stopped to answer a sixth year's question (probably involving homework of some sort) and pushed yet another button on the device. He stuffed it back into his pocket just as she came walking up to their table.

"So. Ready to tell us, O keeper of secrets?" Ron said sarcastically.

Hermione gave him a look. "Well, if you don't want to know... it's not any of your business, and I think this whole meeting is rather stupid. I just want to stop you two from picking on me and finish my homework."

The two boys were silent, and she took that as an invitation for her to keep speaking.

"Harry, you told me that you saw Professor Czantak speaking to me the other day in the hall; Professor Czantak is a very renowned Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Durmstrang. He's been giving me lessons all year, because I finished all of the material for this school already, and Professor McGonagall has the strangest longing for me to be an Auror when I graduate from Hogwarts.

"Aside from Defense Against the Dark Arts, I'm taking classes at Beauxbatons for Charms as well. I arranged the lesson schedule with Professor Flitwick today after Harry came to talk to me. I'm supposed to take classes until the middle of seventh year, then stop to give me time to study for final exams, plus the N.E.W.T.s. Now, no one's supposed to know, because they might try to filter information about the locations, or the material taught at Durmstrang. Especially, say, Malfoy's type.

"That's why I've been so busy lately, and don't have enough time to study with you two or, you know, do all the fun things we used to. I would really like to," she said with a longing glint in her eye, "but schoolwork is so important."

"But Hermione, come on, you should be able to have some fun once in a while," said Ron sympathetically. He and Harry were listening with acute ears, though perhaps not as acute as they should have been. Both of them had suspected something like this deep in their minds, but as far as they were concerned, Hermione was now the goddess of knowledge. She knew Durmstrang Defense Against the Dark Arts material, and everyone knew that they practically taught the Dark Arts themselves at the foreign school.

"Well, no time to feel sorry for me, and I'm really sorry for what I'm about to do." said Hermione. She didn't notice the glance of excitement that passed between her friends. "You see, one of the things I've learned in my advanced Charms classes are Memory Charms, and I happen to be very good at them. Sorry again."

At that, she raised her wand, pointed at them both, and muttered, "Oblivimus!"

Although Harry and Ron left with no clue what she had just told them, Harry had guessed that afternoon that she was going to put a memory charm on them. He and Ron once again reached their dormitory, and Harry pulled the Muggle tape recorder out of his robes and hit 'rewind.' As they waited, Ron said, "So, now that we have this information, what're we going to do with it? Just be happy that we know her secrets?"

"Dunno," Harry shrugged, "I guess we'll have to see what it is first."

At that moment, the tape recorder clicked loudly, letting them know that it was done rewinding. Harry hit play, and Ron leaned forward to listen more closely as the sound of Hermione's voice pervaded the room.