Hermione sat very still in the remainder of potions class, after Harry was pulled away to the weighing of the wands. Snape had scowled and sent him off with some insults about his new status as "champion," which Harry took without comment, to her relief. She wanted to intervene, but to do that, she'd have to travel back and relive the last day – if she didn't go now, she would have to run the risk of interacting with Harry later.

That wouldn't do. She hadn't a clue how her gambol would end, so any interactions with the outside world would potentially compromise the timeline. She looked up at Snape, who was sitting at his desk haughtily, sulking after Harry's newest claim to fame.

He was a petty man, that was for sure, but it didn't stop him from being a useful ally. She caught his eye, and he tilted his head the tiniest fraction of an inch. Wondering what she was scheming, no doubt. She kept her expression carefully blank. He didn't need to know she was involved.

As class ended, Hermione bolted out the door right in front of Neville and behind Ron. "I'm going to the library, got to look up something," she said briefly, and tore down the hallway before either really processed what was happening.

Hermione knew this was a potentially foolhardy plan. She didn't need to go meet Rita Skeeter before the meeting; she didn't even need Harry to be in good standing with the rest of the school. But she wanted to. It was a prideful decision, to fix Harry's reputation (and hers, if she was being honest with herself. It was probably a toss-up, who Skeeter had dragged through the mud worse in their fourth year). But she had the power to fix it, and something inside her wouldn't let her stand by. Not when she had the Heroine of Sussex persona and a time turner in her pocket. She had the power to fix it, so fix it she would.

So she found herself in the room next to her abandoned classroom – her favorite spot to turn time, since she knew no one ever went in here – and turned time. The spells to disillusion herself, hide her smell and her sound, were practically second nature. Her swift pace to the gates of Hogwarts was similarly achieved with ease (she had been exercising since she woke up in the Hospital wing, and she bet she could arm-wrestle both of her boys without a struggle at this point).

After that, it was a matter of getting transport to the Ministry. She couldn't do magic outside of school quite yet, so before she stepped outside the gates, she made a Portkey out of an unassuming pebble. It would take her right to the Leaky Cauldron. "Portus!" she said sharply. That would take her to Diagon Ally and back to the gates.

Hermione sighed, cast the spells to her Heroine of Sussex persona, and opened the lock to Hogwarts with a charm she had no right to know. It was time to go have a chat with Rita.

The Leaky Cauldron was bustling, as much as it could on a Friday morning. Sleepy guests were sipping porridge and coffee, tables were flying to seat incoming patrons, and old Tom was washing dishes as some eggs and bacon cooked themselves on the frying pan. She couldn't help but smile, although it looked more like a grimace on her transfigured face. It was nice to see the Wizarding community so very happy and calm. It reminded her very little of their later years at Hogwarts, and not at all like the ghost town after Voldemort's third rise.

She tapped the bricks to Diagon purposefully, and was thankful no one noticed her face. She supposed her fifteen minutes of fame were over, for the most part. No matter. She strode towards the Daily Prophet and walked in, ignoring the receptionist with the pesky sign-in sheet.

Rita was one of their most prized writers. She would have a cushy office somewhere, and it would be in the directory. Hermione took the elevator to the third floor, cast a "Point me, Rita Skeeter!" and was on her way. Left down one hallway, then right down the next. Finally she got to a surprisingly small office and tore open the door unceremoniously.

"Rita, we need to have a chat." Hermione said in a low voice.

Rita Skeeter was a very intimidating woman when she set her mind to it. She dressed to impress, and looked something like a shiny vulture when she was in public. Here, in her office, she looked less like a vulture and more like an overgrown parrot. Not at all daunting. Or perhaps it was the fear in her face when she looked at the intruder and cowered.

"Oh, it's you." Skeeter sneered, trying to save face. "What do you want now, hmm? Come to ruin my career again?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't be so dramatic, Rita. I need a favor."

"A favor?" She perked up slightly. Favors implied some sort of give and take, and Rita wasn't above selling her soul for a favor from an important person.

"Yes, I have some plans for the Tournament, and I want to ensure the proper… angle, shall we say, is taken on tomorrow's article." Hermione enjoyed the way the woman flinched when she spoke. Hermione was, perhaps, getting a bit too much enjoyment out of this.

"How did you know I was writing an article on the Tournament?" Rita asked suspiciously.

"Oh please, dear little Rita. It's hardly difficult to figure out. So, are you ready to listen to my guidelines?"

Skeeter paused, seeming to battle with herself. "What's in it for me?" She said finally.

"Well, for one, you won't be going to Azkaban. Did you know you have to serve an equal amount of time in prison that you hid your Animagus form for? How many years has it been now, Rita?"

She scowled silently, but Hermione could see that the news concerned her. "I would've checked that, before I became an illegal animagus."

"Shhh!" Skeeter hissed, "Or someone will hear!"

"Well that's your problem then, isn't it? Since you've been such a good girl, I'll even throw in an interview for you. With me, the Heroine of Sussex. As long as you follow my guidelines, of course."

Skeeter looked dejected. "What are your guidelines, then?"

Hermione smirked evilly. "Well, thank you for asking, Rita dear! First, I want you to write about the competitors equally, and give accurate backgrounds on each of them. Start with Cedric Diggory, then do Delacour, then Krum, and then Harry Potter. And let me see- where is that Quick Quotes Quill? Can you let me take a look at it, Rita?"

Hermione was definitely enjoying this too much, she decided, for Skeeter looked like someone was about to snap her wand as she handed over the quill. Hermione held it delicately. "What a remarkable piece of charms work!" She said happily. "Why, did you do this yourself, Rita? This is marvelous!" She shook her head, seeming to have no words for the situation. "Well, let me see here. The spells seem to focus on translating spoken word to the most sensational versions, using the past articles of the Daily Prophet as a reference. Oh my, it actually seems to have a connection to you! Incredible. Well it'd be best to dispel the altering charms, for that really does get in the way of good reporting. And lets see…" Hermione closed her eyes, examining the charms in her mind.

"Well you've got something quite good here, Rita, but you'd be much better off just simply recording the words that are said. I'll keep the nice function that identifies the speaker, it wouldn't do to give a quote to the wrong person! And yes," she pulled some of the charms away, and cast a quick spell to re-weave the remaining spells. "There we are. A new and improved Dictating Quill."

Skeeter's jaw dropped. "You, you can't do that!" She screamed.

"I think you'll find that I did." She raised an eyebrow.

"No, I mean, that takes a mastery in spellcraft! And I've searched for you everywhere, there's no one fitting your description that got a mastery in anything. The records don't even have you attending Hogwarts, much less joining a guild. Who in Morgana's name are you?"

Hermione chuckled. "Oh Rita-dear, you don't need a mastery to weave charms. It's pretty basic stuff, I'm sure you could do it after about four years of practice and a lot of determination. But we're missing the point. Will you accept my requests?"

"Fine." Rita said, defeat coloring her tone. She was slightly slumped in her chair, glasses askew and still holding her destroyed Quick Quotes Quill. "I'll owl you the finished articles tonight. But if you can't get them to me by tomorrow at 6 AM, the deal's off." She said in a last-ditch attempt to dissuade Hermione.

Hermione chuckled. "Oh, I think you'll find I have time to spare. Now about that interview…"

Break

Hermione returned to Hogwarts without a hitch: just in time to catch her Arithmancy class. She was slightly out of breath, for she had to run across the grounds to make it. Her "interview" with Rita Skeeter was a lengthy one, and she was certain Skeeter would find some way to get a few digs in. She didn't mind very much, so long as the public never learned her identity, the Heroine could be dragged through the mud. She giggled to herself, thinking about how torn up Skeeter would have been after their meeting.

Ernie Macmillan, her usual partner in Arithmancy class, gave her an odd look, but she shook it off. Her mood couldn't be dimmed today.

Once again, Professor Vector gave them quite basic equations, which Hermione quietly finished in the first ten minutes of class. She slipped the completed assignments under another piece of parchment, for Ernie was still looking at her funny, and started her familiar, monsterous equation for horcrux finding. Perhaps today would be her lucky day.

She double-checked her numbers, balanced the problem with all the known factors, and muttered the charm to activate the equation. To her delight, a 89% success rate appeared at the bottom, when she put her, Dobby, and Snape against the ring horcrux. She cast it once more for good measure, and the 89% appeared yet again. A brilliant smile covered her features. She had done it! She had finally balanced the equation correctly, and her equations were no longer coming up wonky. This really was a lucky day.

"Miss Granger, how are you doing on the equations?" Professor Vector said mildly. Her grin must have attracted her attention, and she had come over to her after helping Hannah Abbot.

"Oh, I'm finished with them," Hermione said quickly, pulling her finished parchment on top of her equations. Vector leaned over her shoulder, checking her work.

She nodded, straightened and said, "Good work as always, Miss Granger. Twenty points to Gryffindor for finishing first." She leaned back down for a second, and added more quietly, "and congratulations on completing your side-project. I'm glad you found the missing variable."

Hermione blushed, half at the compliment and half at being caught in the act of doing other work during class. Dutifully, she said, "Thank you, Professor Vector. I did."

She left the classroom happily humming, and even with Harry's complaining that they had all been interviewed by "some lady" for the Daily Prophet, and Ron's incredulousness that he'd be upset at media attention, she was still cheerful. She received the articles at about nine that evening, and was all too happy to owl back her approval. She had to keep herself from laughing maniacally when she read the headings:

"The Triwizard Tournament: Three Champions, an Extra Participant, and One Huge Mistake!"

"The Heroine of Sussex: The Most Dangerous Witch in Britain?"

AN: The description of spellweaving is an homage to EmySabath's Time to Spare, which I highly recommend you read! As always, thanks for your support.