19 September 1998
It was hard to be Hermione Granger' friend, Harry thought with adequate self-awareness of who he was and what it had meant for her and Ron to be his friend. Still, if they had had normal childhoods without a Dark Lord snapping at their heels, Harry couldn't help but think that he would have been far more resentful of Hermione's policy of frowning upon anything that made his academic burden even a smidgeon lighter.
It wasn't like he could use any underhand means to cheat in exams anyway, with the intricate detection spells McGonagall had in place. But surely it was not unreasonable to have some extra help in class? The use of Quick quill notes (not Rita Skeeter's version, a decent one that took down whatever the speaker said, verbatim) in History of Magic was almost a school-wide practice. It was not necessarily an illegal practice, not that the student body had ever tried it a class where the teacher tended to actually register what the people sitting in front of him/her were doing. Yet Hermione wouldn't let Ron and him resort to those quills, constantly admonishing them through narrowed eyes and muttered threats about failure if they didn't pay attention in class.
But even this was better for their collective popularity than what she did in OWL year. Every auto-answer quill (irrespective of ownership) that had the misfortune of being within her line of sight was brutally snapped into two. Granted that those quills couldn't help with homework in the subject that was the biggest time-sink – namely Divination since the use of human imagination was most needed there, but Ron and Harry had secretly agreed that it was heavy handed behaviour, and Justin, otherwise an all-round likeable bloke was incensed enough to want to take this up with McGonagall. (He backed down when reminded that those quills were technically cheating devices. He had actually forgotten; that's how pervasive their use was).
When Fred and George had released their Spell Check Quill, Ron had called it a little piece of miracle. Harry had used them too but he was in fact most grateful when they had malfunctioned – it was like the spirit of the Weasley twins was roaming the halls of the Hogwarts to prevent Gryffindors from being punished for their wrong-doing. And though she had never specifically said anything against the quills, probably out of a sense of loyalty, one could say that Harry was surprised at Hermione paying for two of those at WWW's billing counter, while Frank White flashed them both wide smiles, and continuously chattered about his future plans for the store.
Harry felt sorry for him, happy and unaware that the vast government bureaucracy had already been set in motion against him. Dawlish had left for London promptly after learning that George had taken Frank's resume at face value (and Harry suspected that the promptness was for Hermione's benefit because it was certainly wildly out of character for any Ministry employee), to do a background verification. In any case, he was relieved that he could spend at least an hour without his senior's baleful presence, roaming the village with his best friend and then having lunch with her, his girlfriend and his (apparent) soulmate.
Soulmate who was not the same as his girlfriend, Harry worried for the tenth time. Regardless of what Hermione said about the word soulmate not having romantic implications, he didn't want Ginny to know of the result of George's most recent product trial. He told Hermione the same as they finally exited WWW.
She broke out into a smug grin in response. "Harry, would you like to be more specific about that?" she said.
Harry was confused so he asked her what she meant.
"Instead of saying 'Don't tell Ginny that Luna is my soulmate', try and tell me why you think Luna is your soulmate".
"What, you were there weren't you?" Harry asked, puzzled.
Hermione dropped her shoulders a bit, and asked him to humour her.
"Well, not fifteen minutes back we were back in George's workshop, which for some reason you want me to recount for you and are unbelievably happy about". Harry took a breath and started to continue as Hermione rolled her eyes, "he showed us these eg - ". Harry had to stop talking as he felt the tip of his tongue move of its own accord and attach itself to the roof of his mouth.
Hermione beamed at him, then waved her wand at him casting a non-verbal finite. "Try again", she ordered. Harry complied, with the same result as before.
"What did you do?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes at the witch in front of him.
Hermione's smile faltered as she asked if Harry remembered Marietta Edgecomb. Harry did. He had spotted her in Diagon a couple of weeks back and unthinkingly waved at her. She had stared back, without acknowledging the greeting.
"Well I have been thinking about her for a while now, you know those freckles were permanent?" she asked. Then she sighed, continuing, "Really, what was the point of that? She had already given us away to Umbridge. And even that was an error in judgement, if you look at the larger scheme of things. I mean Draco Malfoy, an actual Death Eater who plotted to kill Albus Dumbledore for over a year is back at Hogwarts, and Marietta gets scorn on a daily basis because of a monetary lapse of conscience she had as a 15 year old?" Harry glanced at Hermione sideways who was looking vaguely troubled and slipped his palm into hers, squeezing her hand lightly. Hermione squeezed back and inhaled a deep breath. "So anyway, I began to think that I could have handled it better, thought of a way to prevent the sneaking to begin with. It took some time, but I figured out a way to set off a conditional Langlock even without anyone signing a bit of parchment", she explained.
"So how does the spell know who to include?" Harry enquired.
"I cast it right now, when George asked me to cast the privacy charms", she replied. "I have also shown it to him; he knows to cast it every time he wants the content of his conversations to remain private."
Harry wondered how regular people functioned without Hermione Granger as their friend, and squeezed her hand again to express the same sentiment. "So you just discovered the spell, and had it on hand to be used at just the right moment?" he asked.
"Why don't you try discussing horcruxes with someone outside of Ron and I?" she goaded, her smile returning.
"You know if I were you, I would use that spell to prevent me from telling Ron that you are a big hypocrite", Harry shot back. Hermione asked him what he meant, to which Harry reminded her of her purchase of Spell Check Quills.
"I don't need it for me", she said primly.
"Then? You are going lax on commandeering the education of your friends this year?" he teased.
Hermione mumbled a response which Harry was sure he had heard misheard.
"I am sorry, I heard that you bought them for Goyle. Who are you buying it for, again?" he enquired politely.
"You heard correctly Harry", she replied, now tugging at his hand to pull him faster towards Three Broomsticks. Harry held his ground and made her turn around to face him, scrutinising her face for signs of amusement. Finding none, he described the Goyle he remembered – Slytherin, Quidditch player, big oaf, Malfoy's evil minion – reasonably certain that Hermione knew of some other Goyle. Instead she confirmed that she was indeed talking of Gregory Goyle, the slow-witted arsehole that they loved to hate.
"The Ministry has frozen most accounts of convicted Death-Eaters, Harry. I don't think the Goyles were too rich to begin with, anyway. So Goyle has a tiny allowance now and he can't afford even these", she said, placing a hand on his shoulders placatingly.
Probably because he spends all of his allowance in Honeydukes', Harry speculated.
"And his spellings are atrocious, much worse than yours or Ron", she continued.
"Of course, they are Hermione", Harry retorted, affronted. "He is part-troll, isn't he?"
Hermione coldly suggested that Harry stop spouting prejudiced nonsense against magical creatures. Harry was suitably chastened at that, so he refrained from further prodding right then, but nonetheless resolved to ask her about this later when she returned to a better mood.
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Harry had been silent for the remainder of the walk to Three Broomsticks which suited Hermione just fine. She would have probably liked to talk about the case of the Death-eater sightings a little more, but at that moment, it served her purpose to act aloof. She had no desire to talk of why she was being charitable towards Goyle, mostly because she had no idea why she had struck up a sort-of tutorship (friendship was grossly over-stating it) with him in the first place. He was just always there in the library, and he looked like he needed help with his lessons, and Hermione was well placed to give him that help. It made sense in her head at the time, but she didn't know how to explain it to Harry or Ron. She had promised to owl Ron, she reminded herself, as Harry opened the door of the pub and signalled her to enter.
Hermione looked up in surprise at the chivalry, but his attention had drifted to the bar where Ginny and Luna sat chatting with Rosmerta. Ginny was looking wan after last night's revelries while Luna looked as serene as ever, her eyes roaming around the room. She broke into a smile as she spotted Hermione and Harry and waved them over. That action caught Ginny's eye and she looked to smile too, though it came out as a grimace. Harry laughed aloud at that, reaching Ginny and patting her shoulder sympathetically.
"The celebrations went as expected, I presume?" Rosmerta asked, amusement on her face. Hermione nodded in response, feeling suddenly grown-up. She thought back to fifth year, when a couple of bottles of Firewhisky had been found in the Ravenclaw dorms. There had been a two-day long inquiry into that (Dumbledore was clearly not great at prioritising) and Rosmerta had pledged vociferously about never selling to the underage. Now, here she was, sitting with them discussing last night's party with easy nonchalance. Was it the War? The fact that they had seen so much already, that a little alcohol made no difference, was now understood as almost-welcome?
"Madam Rosmerta, tell them your news", Ginny interrupted her thoughts.
"What news?" Harry enquired. In response, Rosmerta held out her hand, where a cheap diamond ring sat on her finger.
"Congratulations", Hermione squealed, immediately wanting to see Ron's face when he was told.
"Who are you marrying?" Harry asked, not a little abruptly.
"Him, right there", she replied, pointing to a corner of the room where a curly haired, bearded man sat reading the Prophet. "Bertie Summers, he was a journalist earlier, and occasionally free-lances now. He is not like the current crop, mind you", she said, peering at their little group as if to challenge anyone to compare her fiancé to Rita Skeeter. "We met last year, he was camping out here to follow the happenings at Hogwarts. Wants to write a book on the War now."
As Rosmerta continued talking about her fiancé, Hermione wondered if anyone would want to talk to the three of them about what happened during the past year. So far they had been approached by journalists to talk to them for stories in the papers but they had steadfastly refused. And only some of it had to do with their lack of faith in the journalistic profession. Harry and Ron were Ministry officials who couldn't talk freely if they wanted to and Hermione had been outside the country for a long while. And no matter who the journalist was, could they manage to tell their side of the story fairly in 2000 words? And really when did the War begin? Was it just last year? Or did it begin when Voldemort returned in fourth year? And Pettigrew helped him return, so wouldn't people want to know where Pettigrew had been all these years? How Sirius had been betrayed all the way back to that Halloween night when James and Lily Potter were murdered in their own home? Even a book wasn't enough to tell people the entire story from her, from Harry's point of view. Hermione wasn't sure if even seven books – one book for every year they spent in Hogwarts would be enough.
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"Hmm, she is not wrong you know", Ron answered thoughtfully as he took the letter from the Hogwarts owl and waved his hand at the bowl on the window sill, offering it a drink. "It is possible that Lestrange did not want to kill her because it would be sure to draw attention".
Harry had initially planned on having this discussion with Hermione but she had hurried back to the castle after lunch, probably remembering a half-done assignment she had to turn in after two weeks. She had also been lost in her own thoughts throughout lunch, which Harry hoped had to do with her thinking about what he had said about Goyle. If nothing else, Hermione was a logical girl and it was irrefutable logic that Goyle was a prat and did not deserve any sympathy.
"But there is one issue there", Harry persisted, "why couldn't he say, obliviate her? That would have ensured that nobody heard anything?"
Ron seemed to agree for a moment, then the corner of his mouth upturned a little into a half-smirk as he opened the letter in his hand. "We forget, you know", he said, mystically.
"What?"
"Harry, do you know how to perform memory charms?" Ron asked, knowing fully well that he did not. "Well, neither do I", he continued. "We forget that not everyone has Hermione Granger on hand to perform these exceedingly complex incantations that the majority of the adult wizarding population would likely botch up. And death-eaters are not exactly the brightest bunch in the first place. Lucius Malfoy, one of the better ones, couldn't recognise you because of a stinging hex. You, not only the most recognisable young wizard in all of England but also the one bloke his master had been after for years. And let's face it. Lestrange married Bellatrix – that's a sign of lunacy in a bloke, if ever there was one."
Harry nodded in agreement, satisfied by Ron's reasoning. "So who is this from?" he asked Ron, seeing his friend look increasingly happy as he read through his letter, though clearly trying to suppress a smile. He couldn't stop his eyes from twinkling however.
"Hermione", Ron answered, "So I take it you gave her a hard time about Goyle?" he asked, looking up and breaking into a full smile.
"I..I gave her a hard time? She wouldn't talk to me after I brought it up that it was stupid of her to be nice to him? How is that unreasonable?" Harry asked indignantly. "Ron, Hermione is getting all friendly with Goyle! Gregory Goyle! The better half of Vincent Crabbe! Who tried to set us on fire in the Room of Requirement", Harry exclaimed, his hands flailing on either side of his torso, making his exasperation clear, and his voice increasing in volume with every sentence.
"Yes, Hermione was there", Ron shrugged nonchalantly, "What's your point?"
"My point is that Hermione sees the best in people and loves to scold people into studying. But in her naïve desire to help, she might get hurt!"
Ron laughed. Then seeing Harry's serious expression, he frowned. "Oh, wait, you actually think Hermione is naïve?" He blinked incredulously. "Harry, death eater or not, Goyle has the IQ of a lobotomised flobberworm. You really think he can hurt Hermione?"
"But she is nice, nice people get hurt", Harry argued.
"Harry", Ron began condescendingly, "I don't know where you were when Hermione Granger was setting professors on fire when she was 12, or trapping and blackmailing unregistered animagi when she was 15, permanently disfiguring people in fifth year, really do we even know the same Hermione? This is the girl who obliviated her own parents because she thought that they were at risk during the War. How is that even close to naïve?"
Harry was a little unsure now, his hands settling lightly on the kitchen counter. He started to concede the point, but then turned mutinous. "What if she thinks Goyle has changed? Maybe he is appealing to that side of her. She is very forgiving you know?"
"Only people who haven't been attacked by her canaries would say that", Ron sneered.
"But", Harry objected, "Why would she want to talk to that lump anyway?"
Ron looked thoughtful, then shook his head from side to side. "Our Hermione? Wants a henchman, I s'pose".