Author's Notes: I am warning you now; this chapter is quite longer than they usually are. On a normal occasion, I would write somewhere near six pages in Word. This chapter has exceeded that by three whole pages. =) But I like longer chapters, and between the flashback, the discussions, and the new characters I had to introduce, I knew this chapter had to be somewhat lengthier.

I am nearing SIXTY REVIEWS on this story! That's amazing! I've never gotten over forty before! Your reviews are keeping me fueled to write more in this story, and perhaps I'll even – GASP! – finish this one for a change! Don't ever forget to submit a review after reading a chapter… your reviews are my power…

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CHAPTER SIX – A DIVORCE IS IN THE FUTURE

After a rather sleepless night of tossing and turning, Hermione sauntered into the Great Hall the next morning, making sure she was looking her best nonetheless. It was her chance to impress her new students and staff members (and, secretly, Harry and Ron).

Her stomach twisted nastily when she saw the duo already seated at the head table, catching everyone's attention and laughing enthusiastically. It appeared as if Hermione was the last into breakfast; the Hall was quite full, and as she walked past the Gryffindor table, many students turned their heads to stare and whisper. She searched wildly along the extensive table until she caught sight of Ginny, who was waving her over. Feeling slightly relieved and a bit more at home, Hermione took her seat next to Ginny, trying to ignore the curious stares she was receiving from her co-workers (and the glares from the idiots seated only four chairs down).

The first thing Hermione heard was the high-pitched voice that gasped and squealed, "Hermione! You've arrived!" Of course, it belonged to none other than Josie Hacklebush. Really, Hermione thought. They should just lock her in the dungeons and keep her there. She had no doubt that many of the other people seated along the table would agree. Being polite, she gave a weak smile, and glanced up and down the table to find a dozen curious faces staring.

"So you're Granger?" asked a raven-haired woman with shining blue eyes next to Ginny. "Everyone's been talking about you all week. You're supposedly some high-and-mighty agent from the Ministry, aren't you?"

"Erm…" Hermione wasn't sure what to make of the woman at first. She reminded Hermione of a witch she had seen in Knockturn Alley once, until she broke into a toothy grin and stuck out her pale hand.

"Desdemona King," she said, quite pleasantly. "I teach Potions, but don't let that give you the wrong idea about me. Ask anyone. I've been here three years and the kids adore me."

Hermione could feel Ginny shaking with silent laughter, but Desdemona appeared to be friendly and she decided to let the snickering slide. It was rather reassuring knowing that, for once, a diabolical person didn't fill the position as Potions Master – or, in this case, Mistress.

"I must say, I'm quite a fan of your work," chattered a young man on Hermione's right. He looked to be around her age, if not a couple years older, and was sporting a red cap with letters too faded to read atop his beach blonde hair (the cap clashed horribly with his robes, Hermione noted). "What you do is so amazing. I tried making it as an agent and nearly burned half of Scotland to ashes; I suppose the job isn't for everyone," he added, a regretful look crossing his face.

"Er, thank you," Hermione replied kindly, trying to suppress her own giggles.

The man's head snapped up. "I'm sorry; didn't introduce myself. James Horn – Arithmancy." He stuck out his hand for Hermione to shake. She couldn't help breaking into a grin herself as she remembered how she used to fantasize about teaching Arithmancy, as it was her favorite class.

Deciding to take a risk, Hermione glanced at Harry and Ron, who were watching intently. Ron was consecutively rolling his eyes and Harry sat with his arms folded and his own eyes narrowed. Clearly, they were jealous of loosing the limelight to Hermione. This only made Hermione's smirk widen.

She was introduced to the only remaining person she did not know; a tiny little Japanese man by the name of Jeffery Yang. He spoke a sentence in his native language that Hermione did not understand at first, until he repeated it in English – "Hello, and welcome to a magical land full of spectacular wonders." Ron snickered quite noticeably and Hermione was sure to shoot him a look that said, "Shut up before I rip your face off."

Surprisingly, Professors Sprout and Flitwick were still at Hogwarts, teaching the same subjects they taught Hermione so many years ago. Looking like they hadn't aged a day, they welcomed Hermione back, giving her small winks and narrating short paragraphs that, in a nutshell, described her to be one of their favorite and most dedicated pupils ever. She burned a bright color of crimson, completely ignoring Ron's cough that sounded strangely like a rude insult.

Peculiarly, two seats at the end of the table near McGonagall were empty (one was obviously Hagrid's, as it was easily five times larger than the others). Hermione was close to asking who the other chair belonged to when the Great Hall doors flew open and thudded against the wall with a deafening bang. The whole student body turned to watch the figure, an olive-skinned woman with flowing, curled chocolate hair, enter into the room and march down the aisle up to the staff table. Obviously, Hermione was not the last to arrive at breakfast after all.

"Good morning, Bella," Ginny said aloud.

The woman's head shot up to see who had spoken, and instead of her chestnut eyes gazing at Ginny, they trailed over to Hermione. She scrunched up her symmetrically perfect face for a moment, thinking of who the new girl could be, then her eyes widened slightly and Hermione could've sworn she tensed up.

"The new Transfiguration teacher, Granger? The spy?" she asked. Hermione detected a faint accent that sounded oddly like Italian. Still, the unique enunciation only added more mystery to this already strange woman.

"Yes," Hermione answered strongly. "Hermione Granger. Pleased to meet you."

The Italian shot Hermione a bewitching smile and responded, "Bella Levrero, Astronomy professor. Nice to have you aboard the staff, Hermione." Hermione couldn't help but wince slightly at the minor mispronunciation of her name. But she wasn't going to make a big deal out of it; something about this woman mystified her, and really, she didn't feel like going into more detail with her at the moment.

Bella took a seat next to Harry and engaged in conversation with him almost immediately. At least that was one less person off her back, Hermione thought gratefully.

Realizing for the first time that she was really quite hungry, she decided to pile the freshly cooked pancakes enticingly sitting directly in front of her onto her empty plate. The table returned to its normal conversation, though Hermione couldn't help but feel pleased on the impression she felt she left on her new co-workers.

"I also wanted to say congratulations on winning the Most Valuable Witch award," James said suddenly, causing Hermione to blush perceptibly. "Really remarkable speech you made last winter."

"Oh, you were there?" Hermione asked. "I had no idea. Yes, that speech took me a week to come up with… I stayed awake till three in the morning most nights, re-writing so many paragraphs that it wasn't until the fourth night I thought of having my quill do all the writing for me." The two broke into laughter, only to be stopped by a conspicuously forced cough from Ron. Ginny was sure to glare daggers at her brother for several long minutes until Ron got up from the table and angrily stormed from the Great Hall. Hermione was strongly reminded of one incident in their sixth year, concerning a certain letter written to her by Viktor Krum.

[FLASHBACK]

It was Saturday morning, right at the peak of breakfast time. The Hall was packed with students, all excited about the upcoming Hogsmeade visit that afternoon. Hermione and Ron sat alone in the midst of the commotion, talking briskly. Harry hadn't shown up for breakfast; Ron reported that he had stayed in bed, insisting he felt ill.

When Ron began shoving strips of bacon into his mouth, Hermione took the opportunity to pull out a letter she had stuck inside her planner. It had been received only the day before and she hadn't had the time to reply back yet. Taking out a quill and a blank piece of parchment, she started writing vigorously.

"'S that?" Ron asked thickly, with his mouth full of bacon bits. Hermione had an urge to tell him to keep his mouth shut when he was eating but decided it would be better to not say anything at all.

"Oh, just a letter," Hermione replied airily. Ron swallowed his heap of food and attempted to peer across the table at the long letter written in swirly, romantic handwriting.

"From who?"

"Erm, a friend."

"Which friend?" Ron asked, growing impatient and straining his neck to see what the letter said.

Hermione sighed. "Viktor, if you must know, Ron," she snapped.

She watched the color quickly drain out of his face. He was nearly standing on his chair to read Viktor's letter now, but Hermione stacked a pile of books in front of her parchment, blocking his view. "You mean ickle Vicky?"

"Don't call him that," Hermione said, clenching her teeth.

"I'll call him whatever I like, thanks. What's he bothering you about now?"

It was truly amazing how in just a few mere seconds they could go from having a nice, sociable conversation to an argument that was most likely about to blow up any minute.

"He isn't bothering me at all, Ronald. I quite like his letters. And you may not call him whatever you like. And you should stop poking your nose into other people's business."

"Let me see that," Ron muttered, reaching around the books for the paper. Hermione was caught off guard and, unfortunately, was not quick enough; Ron had seized the parchment and kept it out of Hermione's reach as he read. He skimmed through it quickly, his eyes narrowing, detesting each and every word written.

"Tell him no," he said quietly, throwing the letter in her face.

"Ron –"

"He can't come and stay a week with you in hopes to 'enhance your relationship'!" Ron yelled. His face was rapidly turning the color of the cherry sweater he was wearing. "What the hell is that man talking about? What relationship? We don't want any Bulgarians staying at Hogwarts with us right now. Tell him no."

Deciding to choose her words carefully, Hermione responded slowly in hopes of not letting Ron's words set her off like a firecracker. "Viktor and I do have a relationship, Ron, whether you approve of it or not. He is a very close friend of mine, and I must say I don't appreciate the way you talk about him. Viktor's a good, kind person at heart."

"Don't give me that sentimental rubbish."

"And furthermore, I believe that Dumbledore would love to have a foreign student come visit. He seemed quite fond of the idea back during the Triwizard Tournament."

"Since when have you become all sappy over that git?" Ron asked, disgusted. "Wasn't it just a week ago you were complaining about the flowers he sent you in the mail?"

"I was allergic to them," Hermione responded sharply. "I spent two days in the hospital because of that, remember? Of course, it wasn't his fault; he had no way of knowing I was so sensitive to the lilacs. They were beautiful, though. Such a nice gesture –"

"Just shut up about him."

Hermione was taken aback, and quite affronted, too. Did she hear him correctly? Ron could insult her and Viktor all he wanted, but he had no right to tell her to shut up.

"No, Ron, you shut up!" Hermione said heatedly – well, really, she shouted it, and attracted a few stares from nearby watchers, but she didn't notice nor care. "You're constantly going on about Viktor and offending me for liking him, and I think I've had enough. I'm lucky to know such a sensitive and considerate man as Viktor; perhaps that's why I care for him so! And maybe if you weren't such a pigheaded prat, I'd care for you like that, too!"

There was a silence after Hermione's speech in which she found her face burning. She shouldn't have said that last sentence; even though the prat part was true and needed to be said, the last half didn't. It just slipped out. Several first years a couple seats down were giggling uncontrollably, and Hermione's stomach lurched when she caught a glimpse of Malfoy watching intently from the Slytherin table. A nasty sneer crept onto his lips and Hermione could only imagine what he was working on in his head.

Ron was shocked, too, but he quickly disguised it by glowering at Hermione. "Fine!" he yelled, standing up and knocking his chair over. "I don't need this." He destroyed Hermione's tower of books purposely, spilling her ink all over Viktor's letter. Usually this would please him, but Ron was in such a rage he didn't even notice. He grabbed his bag and stormed from the Hall, careful to slam the doors loudly behind him. The room was hushed for several long, painstaking moments until Malfoy announced aloud, "Looks like a divorce is in the future!"

The room broke into uproarious laughter. Hermione felt like all fingers were being pointed to her; she couldn't stand being the center of amusement in front of the entire student body. She glared furiously at Malfoy, who was banging his fists on the table, tears streaking out of his eyes. Goyle and Crabbe were banging alongside Malfoy, sending the cutlery flying a foot in the air.

Glancing down the table, Hermione even saw Ginny chuckling with mirth. Her face was so hot it could've melted off her bones. Almost as infuriated as Ron, she ripped up Viktor's ink-drenched letter before grabbing her books and leaving the table. Malfoy made quite noticeable fish lips at her as she passed, only to send the Slytherins into bigger fits of laughter. She was nearly over the threshold when she took her wand out from inside her robes, muttered something beneath her breath, and put it back quickly, only to exit seconds later. Hermione was several feet down the corridor when she heard Malfoy scream shrilly from the Hall; obviously, he just realized the fish lips he puckered at her had swollen to about ten times their average size. Even in all her anger, she couldn't help but smirk.

[END FLASHBACK]

It was happening, she thought wildly. Her schooldays were going to repeat themselves – everything was going to happen over again. First Ron would fly from the room in a fit of rage, then Harry would get a new girlfriend and stop talking to them for a month, then Voldemort would attack St. Mungo's, then –

"Hermione? Don't let him bother you, okay?"

She looked to her left and saw Ginny peering at her curiously. "Sorry, did you say something?"

"Don't let Ron get to you. He's a git, anyway, and he's just sore because everyone would rather listen to you than hear about his dull adventures in Africa."

"Ginny," Hermione said seriously, lowering her voice, especially since she could see Harry watching them out of the corner of her eye. "I really need to talk to you, but not now. Somewhere private. I'm not teaching classes yet today; so during your lunch break, could you meet me in the Entrance Hall?"

"Sure," Ginny replied, looking slightly perplexed.

Hermione checked her watch and, seeing the time, figured McGonagall would want them to be in her office by now. The Hall was slowly emptying as the students ran off to prepare for their first lessons of the day. Saying goodbye to her new co-workers, all of whom gave her bright smiles and waved, she pushed back her chair and left the table. Harry was still conversing with Bella and only stopped momentarily to give her a nice, good glare. She thought he should get going, as well; but he being late to the meeting would provide her a good laugh.

McGonagall's office wasn't far off. Hermione could remember the route almost exactly – down a few corridors, across the courtyard, and round a corner. The door was ajar and she could see Ron sitting anxiously in a chair facing McGonagall's desk; unluckily, McGonagall had not yet arrived. Hermione thought that if she lurked in the hallway until she heard footsteps coming she could avoid spending excess time with Ron, but he spotted her, so she had no choice but to enter the room and take a seat next to him.

Ron said nothing and didn't even give her his customary glare. He pretended not to notice that she had sat down; instead, he busied himself with observing the different-colored quills neatly organized on McGonagall's desk.

The two sat in silence for a long time; Ron had moved onto examining an odd replica of the school on a shelf that conveniently allowed him to turn his body away from Hermione. Hermione, on the other hand, merely sat in her chair, staring at her feet, wondering if this was the right moment to ask a question that had been nagging her for a long time.

"Ron?"

Ron glanced at her presumptuously, as if daring her to speak up. Hermione's heart started racing; she didn't want to look like an idiot. Perhaps she just shouldn't say anything and wait for McGonagall to arrive. But the silence was more painful than any words he could say to her. And was it really going to continue like this all year? Would they just pretend the other didn't exist but talk behind their backs anyway? She couldn't let this totally interfere with her duty; she had to remain faithful to the Ministry, solve the case, and teach her students as well, which would take a lot of time and energy out of her. Old mixed feelings just couldn't get in the way.

But Ron was still looking at her, his annoyance beginning to show, as she sat there biting the bottom of her lip.

"Never mind."

"What?"

"I said never mind."

"What were you going to say?" he demanded stubbornly.

I was going to ask whether you'd thought about me at all in the past six years, Hermione thought. Repeating these words in her mind made her sound like a conceited fool. "Nothing!" She replied heatedly, giving Ron her own glare.

"If you weren't going to say anything, why did you –"

He stopped mid-sentence, staring over her head towards the door. Hermione heard footsteps and swiveled around in her chair to see Harry walking towards them. He was looking at Ron curiously, as if to say, "What are you talking to her about? You're not allowed to talk to her."

Harry said nothing except make an odd grunting noise at Ron as he sat down on Ron's opposite side. Hermione lounged back and folded her arms; she was considering leaving the room if McGonagall didn't show up in the next twenty seconds.

Just as Ron leaned over to whisper something in Harry's ear, someone else entered the room; they all looked up to see McGonagall striding over to where the three were sitting, muttering under her breath. She was positively fuming, Hermione noticed.

"I apologize for being late," she said coldly. "A seventh year in my classroom thought it would be funny to turn the desks into rampaging boars. I walked in to find nearly the entire class piled on the window sill. It does take a while to write up a week's worth of detentions."

Normally, Hermione would have chuckled, but she chose to show no emotion around Harry and Ron. McGonagall took a seat behind her desk, facing them, and shuffled several papers before staring at the three obstinate countenances.

"Well," she began, raising her eyebrows slightly. "First off, I would like to thank you all for assisting Hogwarts and the Ministry in this case. As important as it is – whether or not you realize its magnitude –" (here, McGonagall took the opportunity to glance meaningfully at Hermione, who shrunk back in her seat) "– it should not be taken advantage of. This is not a game. Your schooldays at Hogwarts are over, so I ask that you consider your new role in the world." She halted momentarily, most likely to let her words sink in, and rummaged through a few more pieces of parchment before taking a long breath and continuing. "While I understand that it is none of my business and not my place to interfere, I must say I am quite surprised at the three of you."

Hermione was thoroughly taken aback. She had never expected McGonagall to speak of their situation. Glancing sideways at Harry and Ron, she saw they showed the same expression of astonishment and, she noticed, slight mortification.

"I must say, I had never seen such a stronger relationship between three students in all my years of teaching at Hogwarts," said McGonagall smoothly. "I believe I am out of the loop on what is currently going on, and excuse me for being forward, but I highly recommend looking beyond the difficulties in your past and focusing on the present. Nothing can interfere with your mission, and there are no other people in the world as proficient as you. It is going to take cooperation and teamwork to work through the situation at hand. Understand?"

"Yes, Professor," Hermione replied promptly. She could hear stifled sniggers from Harry and Ron and, wanting to be polite to McGonagall, sharply stomped on Ron's toe with her heel. His sniggering ceased and was soon replaced by small whimpers.

Glancing amongst the trio, their former professor frowned faintly and sighed. "Potter and Weasley, I suppose I shall begin with you first. I am sure you have been curious as to what your purpose will be here this year. It's really quite simple. While Miss Granger will be rather busy teaching her classes, she will not have as much time to investigate as you will. I don't want the students to expect that they're being watched. They have been informed the two of you are visitors from the Ministry and are staying with us to do research for a new department. You have permission to quiz the students all you like, as long as it remains unsuspicious, and I do expect you to monitor their behavior in classes every so often. And as much as I trust my loyal and devoted staff," she added, looking sullen, "It would be much appreciated if you could… perhaps watch them too, as well."

"What for?" Ron asked bluntly.

"I just want to be sure we don't have any impostors in our midst; understand?" The three shook their heads, all thinking deeply and concentrating on the information they were being fed.

"And Miss Granger," said McGonagall, turning to face her. "Your job here this year is of the utmost importance. Your main job is to teach your students, because their academic excellence is at stake in your class. Of course, I'm sure you've already taken this into account. The students do not suspect anything about you; they've been told you're merely filling in this year as Transfiguration professor. But being at the head of class and able to see the actions and movements of everyone – you'll have the entire school in your room at one point – is a major asset. I trust you have taken some time to read up on Transfiguration?"

"Of course," Hermione said.

"Excellent. Normally, we would have you go through a training program, but as the situation is dire and you are very well-prepared, I don't see it as necessary. You can find more books on the subject in your dormitory; I would suggest doing some more basic reading tonight before you start teaching in the morning. Notes have been left on your desk where the different years have left off in learning. I expect you to be preparing for your first class, a rather rowdy group of fourth years, right away after breakfast tomorrow."

Hermione nodded knowingly. She couldn't help but feel slightly excited at the thought of actually being the teacher for once. She still had so much planning to do… she figured she would get started on it the moment their conference was over. But then she remembered the urgency of talking to Ginny and decided to get her priorities straight. First Ginny, then drawing up class schedules.

"Er, Professor," Harry, who had been quiet the entire time, spoke up. "Can – can you tell us what exactly is going on here?"

A grim look crossed McGonagall's face. She took her glasses off and stared at the top of her desk for several moments before speaking in a low tone. "It's complicated, Potter. I myself am not sure of how to describe it. It's as if the students are being controlled, under the Imperius Curse, it seems – which is highly impossible, so it's ruled out completely. You'll have to see for yourself what I am talking about."

"Can you give us some examples?" Hermione inquired. "Ginny was telling me –"

"Examples cannot fully explain the happenings here," McGonagall said sharply. "But yes, I suppose I can. You've heard about the First Year that held a poor house-elf hostage in his dorm for a week?" Hermione nodded, but Harry and Ron looked completely baffled. "Had the strongest Dark Magic charms on his door that I've seen in a long time," she told them. "Not even the most trained curse-breaker we had could get through, until a week later when the child opened his door and faintly asked why a group of men were waiting outside for him."

"So he had no recollection of what he did?" Ron asked.

"Correct," said McGonagall. "The most disturbing occurrence – if not amusing – was probably the incidence in Professor Trelawney's room last month. A group of third years were studying tea leaves and a young girl took Sybil's tea cup and predicted every single wicked thing possible. And when Sybil looked herself, it was all true. There was pain, suffering, the Grim –" (Hermione glanced at Harry, who was looking sickened) "– so naturally, due to shock, Sybil passed out in the middle of her own lesson, and I'm sorry to say this wasn't one of her dramatic performances."

"That's creepy," Ron muttered.

McGonagall nodded in agreement. "The teachers and I have compiled a list of theories, but nothing seems logical enough. And the only wizards in all of Britain the Ministry figured could solve this case are sitting right in front of me. So I say, good luck, and report to me whenever you see fit. Good day."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were dismissed from her office and left immediately, still trying to sort out the information she had given them. Harry and Ron were discussing their meeting with McGonagall as Hermione trailed behind them, secretly wishing she too could be involved in their conversation.

"I'm sure she would love that," she heard Ron say quite loudly, and she knew they had moved on to discussing her, as he shot her an arrogant look over his shoulder. Hermione desperately wanted to stick her tongue out at him but knew it would look terribly childish. Instead she pretended not to notice and turned down a corridor to her right, which incidentally led into the courtyard. A bell sounded somewhere and soon the courtyard was swamped with students, all on their way to lunch. Hermione remembered the talk she had planned with Ginny and continued on her way to the Entrance Hall, fighting the crowds of ravenous children.

Just like she had asked, Ginny was leaning against the front doors, watching the Great Hall flood with students eager for food. When she saw Hermione approaching, she smiled and stuck out her hand, which contained a sandwich for her. Realizing she was quite hungry, Hermione smiled in gratitude and suggested they take a walk around the grounds.

Hagrid's hut could easily be seen in the distance; lights were on in the windows and smoke was rising up out of the chimney. "Ginny," Hermione began. "Why wasn't Hagrid at breakfast this morning?"

Ginny shrugged. "Dunno. Probably preparing for his class, or something. He was introducing baby unicorns to his second years today and was really excited about it."

Hermione took a bite out of her sandwich, which happened to be turkey and mayonnaise. She and Ginny walked down towards the lake, commenting on the weather and the beautiful gardens blossoming around the school on the way. They slowly began circling the lake, watching the giant squid lazily glide across its surface.

"So," said Ginny casually. "What did you want to talk about?" She had an odd knowing glint in her eye that made Hermione suspect she had already guessed.

"Ginny, do you think its – wrong for them to be angry with me?"

"Harry and Ron, right?" Ginny asked stupidly. She took a deep breath before speaking. "They've always been prats; Ron has, anyway. Try living with him your whole life – he really gets to you after a while. But I suppose they figured they would never see you again and they didn't have a plan of what to do when they did, so they've taken up criticizing you instead. Though, I must admit, I'm not quite sure why you aren't on great speaking terms."

Hermione sighed. "I've told you this before," she said exasperatedly. "Harry is – well, I suppose he's still mad that Ron and I didn't support him in the fight against Voldemort, which has a long story behind it, so don't ask me. Though I absolutely love the way Harry is no longer angry with Ron but still angry with me. I honestly don't see the fairness in that. Ron was just as guilty as I."

"But you know what they're like," Ginny said pointedly. "They're –"

"Prats, I know."

"– so of course they were going to make up. I bet Ron convinced Harry."

"And Ron…" Hermione stopped momentarily, trying not to choke up. She averted her eyes to the giant squid again and watched as he reached up one of his long, slimy tentacles to slap a bird that was flying lowly over the water. "He never got over the fact that there were more important things in my life than him. He didn't understand why I couldn't completely devote my life to him, and if he couldn't respect my decision maturely then we had no choice but to break up. And now he's decided to hate me for it."

Ginny was silent for a moment, and Hermione could tell she was doing some deep thinking. They had reached the opposite side of the bank now and were walking near the Forbidden Forest. Hermione watched the different animals chase each other along the forest line and was startled when Ginny spoke again.

"Do you still like him?"

"What?" Hermione asked, surprised that Ginny would say something so bluntly.

"Do you still like Ron?"

"No," Hermione replied a bit too shortly. Ginny quirked an eyebrow and studied her face.

"Come on, Hermione. You can tell me."

"Tell you what? That your brother's an idiot? I think you already knew that. I don't like him in the very least, all right? And I'd appreciate it if you stopped quizzing me!" she finished harshly, beginning to breath heavily. Ginny shrugged and muttered an apology and promised never to ask again. The two continued walking as if nothing had happened; their conversation turned from Ron to Hermione's new teaching position almost immediately.

"I've got to get back up to the castle," Ginny told her once they had completely circled the lake. "I can't be late for my next class; it's my seventh years and I'm afraid of what they'll do to my classroom if I'm not in there."

Hermione chuckled and bid Ginny goodbye. She stood rooted to the spot for several minutes, watching her friend dash up the lawns of Hogwarts, before turning back to face the lake, mixed emotions swimming in her mind. She considered visiting Hagrid but, glancing behind her, could see a class stumbling down towards his hut, obviously going for a lesson. She decided it could wait for another day.

So Hermione decided to do the thing she did best when she was feeling unsure of herself; go and read a nice, fat book.