Harry slept the rest of that evening and well into the next day. Mrs Weasley made Hermione and Ron head back to the Gryffindor Tower after Harry took his potion. They put up a decent fight, but in the end, they knew they had to be well-rested to be able to support Harry. Before she left the hospital wing, however, Hermione grabbed a jar to put Rita Skeeter in, and stowed it in her robes.
As soon as Hermione and Ron made it back to the Common Room, it was nearly three in the morning. Ginny, Fred, and George were curled up on the couches, clearly waiting for them, but all had fallen asleep. They stirred awake as Hermione tried to cover them with a blanket.
"Is Harry okay?" Ginny asked immediately.
"He is," Hermione said.
"He's in the Hospital Wing with Mum, fast asleep. They gave him a potion to sleep," Ron added, yawning.
"What in bollocks happened?!" George asked.
"We'll tell you tomorrow," Ron said to Hermione's relief. "Sorry, mate. We're…" Ron looked over at Hermione with a knowing glance. "We're done for the night."
"Yeah, sure," Fred said. "Just glad everyone's okay."
"Well, most everyone," George said sadly.
Hermione couldn't think about it. She could feel another sob catch in her throat and suddenly got incredibly dizzy. The edges of her vision started to go black. She felt as though she was about to faint. Just as her knees began to buckle, Ron was at her side, catching her.
"You okay, 'Mione?" he whispered softly.
"Yeah, just tired," she said.
"Ginny, can you help her up to the girls' dorm?" Ron asked, not letting go of Hermione.
"Of course. You can sleep in my room," Ginny said.
"Thank you," Hermione said, happy to not have to face her roommates after everything that had happened.
Ginny took over from Ron and helped Hermione up the stairs. Hermione waited outside her room while Ginny crept in to get Hermione something to sleep in. Crookshanks sauntered out of the crack in the door and rubbed up Hermione's legs, purring. She reached down to pick him up and thoughtlessly ran her fingers through his fur to relax.
After changing into some pyjamas, Hermione and Ginny crawled into Ginny's bed, and within a few seconds, Hermione was dead asleep.
The next morning, Hermione woke up feeling barely rested at all. Nonetheless, she knew she needed to get out of bed and get something to eat. She and Ginny got dressed and headed down together. Ron, Fred, and George were waiting for them in the Common Room. Ron looked as tired as she felt. However, as soon as he saw her coming down the steps, he ran over and gave her a long, comforting hug. He didn't have to say anything.
The five of them walked in a group down to the Great Hall. Ginny, Fred, and George automatically positioned themselves around Hermione and Ron, almost providing a human shield as they walked through the halls.
The Great Hall was mostly silent when they entered, even though it was near capacity. No one seemed in the mood to talk. The only sounds they heard were the odd whispers and the sounds of people crying. Somewhat surprisingly, the crying wasn't just limited to the Hufflepuff table. People at the Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and even Slytherin tables were shedding a few tears. Hermione wanted to cry as well but, at that point, she was beyond tears.
The sounds of crying ceased as soon as Dumbledore entered the room and stood at the front podium.
"I would say, 'Good morning,' but we all know that is far from the truth," the headmaster started. "There are many things to say, but there is not much time to say them. However, I implore you all to think about what Muggle Queen Elizabeth II once said: 'Grief is the price we pay for love.'
"With that said, I am sure you have many questions, and I hope you can trust me when I say they all will be answered in due time. There will be some among us who know more than others; I ask that you wait to ask them questions until they open themselves up to telling you. This includes, but is certainly not limited to, Harry Potter. Harry is receiving treatment in the Hospital Wing under the expert care of Madame Pomfrey and will be released shortly. Please give him- and anyone else you may want to ask questions- privacy in their grief. Thank you, and please know that everyone on staff is available to talk if needed."
Without another word, Dumbledore walked out of the Great Hall. Surprisingly, the whispers didn't immediately start. Everyone was still highly subdued. After breakfast, the five friends returned to the Common Room until they could visit Harry in the Hospital Wing. There, Hermione and Ron told Ginny, Fred, and George a truncated summary of events, leaving many details from the Pensieve out of it.
When they went to the Hospital Wing to visit with Harry, Madam Pomfrey and Mrs Weasley stopped them at the door. Apparently, the Diggorys were in with Harry. Hermione couldn't imagine how they were feeling, nor how Harry had the courage and strength to talk to them. They were assured by the Hospital Wing Matron that Harry would be discharged later that evening and that they could see him then.
Hermione decided to take a quick nap to be a bit more animated when Harry returned from the Hospital Wing. It was only then that she remembered she had Rita Skeeter trapped in a jar. When she got to her room, she found the jar in her discarded clothes from the night before. The beetle was still there and seemed to be angrily flying against the glass walls of her prison. "Serves you right, you foul bint," Hermione said to the beetle, giving it a vindictive shake.
Anger washed over her as she felt the oddly satisfying thump vibrate through her hand holding the jar. How dare that disgusting bug-eyed wretch of a witch have the audacity to be angry at a time like this? When a student had died and He Who Must Not Be Named had returned?
As if her hand had a mind of its own, Hermione started shaking the jar harder and harder, relishing each and every thump against the glass.
Harder and harder, she shook it.
The anger was taking over.
Thud.
Cedric was dead.
Thud.
Voldemort was back.
Thud.
With a gasp, Hermione's anger was interrupted by common sense and human decency. She almost threw the jar across the room in horror, but somehow managed to hold on.
Hermione had to force herself to look to make sure she hadn't…
Hadn't what?
Committed murder?
With a knot in her stomach, she opened her eyes, fearing the absolute worst.
A very dazed and confused, but very much alive, beetle was staring back at her through the curved glass. Before she knew what she was doing, Hermione cast a containment charm on the jar. The last thing she wanted was the journalist transfiguring back into a human, breaking the glass, and going to the Ministry to turn Hermione in. Hermione heaved a sigh of relief before gingerly placing the jar down and running to the lavatory to throw up.
After Hermione was well enough to make it back to her room, exhaustion took over and she collapsed on her bed, immediately falling asleep.
When Hermione awoke from her nap, she came downstairs to see Mrs Weasley sitting with her children near the fire. "Oh, Hermione, dear!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed. "I had hoped I'd see you before I left."
"You're leaving?"
"Yes, there's not much I can do here," Mrs Weasley said. "And there's so much to do at home. But I plan on seeing you this summer, yes? I will write to your parents."
Mrs Weasley gave Hermione a huge hug that lasted a few moments longer than necessary. Hermione got the feeling that Mrs Weasley was using the hug to apologise for all of her previous actions. Hermione graciously accepted the apology and hugged her back warmly, all the while thinking in the back of her mind that she didn't deserve any sort of apology or sympathy after what had just happened.
When Harry was discharged from the Hospital Wing, Hermione was happy for the distraction from her guilt. She watched on as he was welcomed by quite a few Gryffindors. Neville gave him a huge hug before starting to cry and running off. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan clapped him on the back and congratulated him on winning. Parvati and Lavender made a huge, dramatic show of giving him a big hug and telling him they were there if he ever needed anything. Angelina and Katie, two of Harry's Quidditch teammates, also congratulated him and gave him a few Chocolate Frogs to celebrate. Colin Creevy and Jillian Haught came over and wordlessly gave Harry high-fives for winning before running off.
Clearly wondering why not a single one of them asked him what had happened, Hermione and Ron told him about Dumbledore's speech asking everyone to leave him alone. Harry looked relieved, but still quite guarded.
Over the next month, Harry wanted to talk about anything but the Triwizard Tournament. There were a few times Hermione wanted to come clean about Rita, but decided against it. Late at night, when she was lost in her thoughts, she could almost justify her actions… but then, in the light of day, the guilt came back.
Luckily, the end-of-year exams were coming up, and Hermione could focus on those.
Another distraction was the constant whispering. Wherever they went, Hermione knew people were whispering about what happened to Harry and Cedric. When no one thought she was listening, Hermione was able to overhear absolutely insane theories about what had happened in that maze. Sometimes she'd shut them down. Most of the time, though, she just ignored them. It wasn't worth the aggravation.
Finally, her guilt got the best of her, and Hermione withdrew the charmed jar from her drawer. The angry buzzing immediately started up, and Hermione watched as Rita flew back and forth between the glass.
"Listen," Hermione started in a shaky voice. "I'm really sorry for shaking you like I did, ok?"
She stared at the jar, half expecting to hear Rita's voice. She needed to be able to communicate with the journalist but still keep her inside the jar. Suddenly, Hermione had a brilliant idea. She rummaged in her desk for her Quick Quotes Quill and silently hoped it would work on an Animagus in its animal form. "Here, use this," she instructed the beetle as she put the quill on a clean sheet of parchment.
"Let me out of here this instant!" said Rita through the quill.
"You can obviously see how that isn't possible," Hermione replied.
"This is kidnapping! You can't just keep me in here indefinitely!"
"Listen, I just need to know if you accept my apology or not," Hermione said.
"I'll accept your apology when you let me out of here, you filthy mudblood!"
Hermione gasped. Seeing the word was no less painful than hearing it.
"You don't have to call me names," Hermione said softly.
"Yes I do! You've kidnapped me!"
"Wait," Hermione said, slowly coming to a realisation. "You're just angry I still have you in this jar?"
"Of course I am!"
"And nothing else?!"
"What else is there!?" Rita wrote, adding numerous exclamation points.
Hermione suddenly realised Rita either didn't remember or care about her attempted murder. Not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, Hermione quickly said, "Oh, well, sorry then," and then put the jar back into her drawer.
If she could take attempted murder off of her worry list, she gladly would. And did. It was like a weight had lifted from her shoulders. Hermione was finally able to breathe a little easier.
Now that Hermione could catch her breath, she decided to spend some time with Viktor. Once he was cleared of any wrongdoing (since he was under the Imperious Curse), he immediately came to visit Hermione. They sat for a long time in the Library back in their alcove, talking about what happened during the third task, and what happened between them. Hermione also decided to confide in Viktor about what happened with Rita.
"She deserved it," Viktor said simply.
"But," Hermione hesitated. "But my anger scared me. I'm no better than You Know Who."
"I understand," Viktor said. "But your guilt should comfort you. Knowing and admitting you vere wrong makes you very different from Dark Lord."
There was something in the simplicity of Viktor's acceptance of her heinous act that seemed to further decrease her guilt. She gave him a big hug and they sat in silence for a while until it was time for Viktor to go back to the Durmstrang ship. They both agreed to continue their strong friendship over the summer with letters and, perhaps sometime down the line, a visit.
The only time that seemed to be really hard to avoid what happened was the free period that was once Defence Against The Dark Arts, since they no longer had a teacher. As much as Hermione wanted to use that time to revise for exams, it was usually their time to find something to do to get their minds off everything. One afternoon, on a bright and sunny day, they decided to go down and visit Hagrid in his hut. As they approached, Fang bounded out of the open door, barking and wagging his tail madly.
"Who's that?" called Hagrid, coming to the door. "Harry!"
He strode out to meet them, pulled Harry into a one-armed hug, ruffled his hair and said, "Good ter see yeh, mate. Good ter see yeh."
They saw two bucket-sized cups and saucers on the wooden table before the fireplace when they entered Hagrid's cabin.
"Bin havin' a cuppa with Olympe," Hagrid said. "She's jus' left."
"Who?" said Ron, curiously.
"Madame Maxime, o' course!" said Hagrid.
"You two made up, have you?" said Ron.
"Dunno what yeh're talkin' about," said Hagrid airily, fetching more cups from the dresser. When he had made tea, and offered round a plate of doughy biscuits, he leant back in his chair and surveyed Harry closely through his beetle-black eyes.
"You all righ'?'"he said gruffly.
"Yeah," said Harry.
"No, yeh're not," said Hagrid. "'Course yeh're not. But yeh will be."
Harry said nothing.
"Knew he was goin' ter come back," said Hagrid, and Harry, Ron and Hermione looked up at him, shocked. "Known it fer years, Harry. Knew he was out there, bidin' his time. It had ter happen. Well, now it has, an' we'll jus' have ter get on with it. We'll fight. Migh' be able ter stop him before he gets a good hold. That's Dumbledore's plan, anyway. Great man, Dumbledore. S'long as we've got him, I'm not too worried."
Hagrid raised his bushy eyebrows at the disbelieving expressions on their faces.
"No good sittin' worryin' abou' it," he said. "What's comin' will come, an' we'll meet it when it does. Dumbledore told me wha' you did, Harry."
Hagrid's chest swelled as he looked at Harry. "Yeh did as much as yer father would've done, an' I can' give yeh no higher praise than that."
Harry smiled back at him.
"What's Dumbledore asked you to do, Hagrid?" he asked. "He sent Professor McGonagall to ask you and Madame Maxime to meet him... that night."
"Got a little job fer me over the summer," said Hagrid. "Secret, though. I'm not s'posed ter talk abou' it, not even ter you lot. Olympe – Madame Maxime ter you – might be comin' with me. I think she will. Think I got her persuaded."
"Is it to do with Voldemort?"
Hagrid, Hermione, and Ron flinched at the sound of the name.
"Migh' be," he said evasively. "Now ... who'd like ter come an' visit the las' Skrewt with me? I was jokin' – jokin'!" he added hastily, seeing the looks on their faces.
On the last day of term, they all sadly packed their trunks and headed down to the Leaving Feast. Hermione knew Harry didn't want to go - he had been avoiding the Great Hall during meal times to avoid crowds.
When Hermione, Ron, and Harry entered the Hall, they saw at once that the usual decorations were missing. The Great Hall was normally decorated with the winning house's colours for the Leaving Feast. Tonight, however, there were black drapes on the wall behind the teachers' table. Hermione knew instantly that they were there as a mark of respect for Cedric.
The real Mad-Eye Moody was at the staff table, his wooden leg and his magical eye back in place. He was extremely twitchy, jumping every time someone spoke to him. Hermione couldn't blame him; Moody's fear of attack was bound to have been increased by his ten-month imprisonment in his own trunk. Professor Karkaroff's chair was conspicuously empty.
Madame Maxime was still there. She was sitting next to Hagrid. They were talking quietly together. Further along the table were Professor McGonagall and Snape.
Dumbledore stood. The Great Hall fell silent.
"The end," said Dumbledore, looking around at them all, "of another year."
He paused, and his eyes fell upon the Hufflepuff table. Theirs had been the most subdued table before he had got to his feet, and theirs were still the saddest and palest faces in the Hall.
"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," said Dumbledore, "but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here" – he gestured towards the Hufflepuffs – "enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory."
All of them did it; the benches scraped as everyone in the Hall stood, raised their goblets, and echoed, in one loud, low, rumbling voice, "Cedric Diggory."
"Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities which distinguish Hufflepuff house," Dumbledore continued. "He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about."
Hermione's eyes went wide. She saw Harry react as well, looking up from the spot on the ground he had been watching the whole time until then.
"Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."
A panicked whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at Dumbledore in disbelief, in horror. He looked perfectly calm as he watched them mutter themselves into silence.
"The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore continued, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so – either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory."
Stunned and frightened, every face in the Hall was turned towards Dumbledore now.
"There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Cedric's death," Dumbledore went on. "I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter."
A kind of ripple crossed the Great Hall, as a few heads turned in Harry's direction before flicking back to face Dumbledore.
"Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort," said Dumbledore. "He risked his own life to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honour him."
Dumbledore turned gravely to Harry, and raised his goblet once more. Nearly everyone in the Great Hall followed suit. They murmured his name, as they had murmured Cedric's, and drank to him (with the exception of most of the Slytherins).
When everyone had once again resumed their seats, Dumbledore continued, "The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened – of Lord Voldemort's return – such ties are more important than ever before."
Dumbledore looked from Madame Maxime and Hagrid, to Fleur Delacour and her fellow Beauxbatons students, to Viktor Krum and the Durmstrangs at the Slytherin table.
"Every guest in this Hall," said Dumbledore, "will be welcomed back here, at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again – in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided.
"Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.
"It is my belief – and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken – that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you, in this Hall, have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst.
"Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right, and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory."
Hermione, Ron, and Harry were waiting in the crowded Entrance Hall with the rest of the fourth-years for the carriages that would take them back to the Hogsmeade station.
"'Arry!"
They all looked around towards the voice. Fleur Delacour was hurrying up the stone steps into the castle.
"We will see each uzzer again, I 'ope," said Fleur, as she reached him, holding out her hand. "I am 'oping to get a job 'ere, to improve my Eenglish."
"It's very good already," said Ron, in a strangled sort of voice. Fleur smiled at him; Hermione scowled.
"Goodbye, 'Arry," said Fleur, turning to go. "It 'az been a pleasure meeting you!" Fleur hurried back across the lawns to Madame Maxime and the Beauxbaton carriage.
"Wonder how the Durmstrang students are getting back?" said Ron. "D'you reckon they can steer that ship without Karkaroff?"
"Karkaroff did not steer," said a familiar voice. "He stayed in his cabin and let us do the vork." Viktor smiled at Hermione. "Could I have a vord?" he asked her.
"Oh ... yes ... all right," said Hermione. She was slightly flustered; she had thought they had already said their goodbyes.
"You'd better hurry up!" Ron called loudly after her. "The carriages'll be here in a minute!"
Hermione ignored him as she and Viktor pushed through the crowd to a spot out of the traffic.
"I just vanted to say good-bye one more time," Viktor said. "And make sure you will write to me, yes?"
"Of course," Hermione said.
"Good," Viktor said. "Also, my mother said she meets you. Thank you for being nice to her."
"Oh! I nearly forgot about that!" Hermione said. That was before… everything. "She seemed very nice. I felt bad I wasn't able to talk to her much."
"She said your Bulgarian vas very good," Viktor grinned. "I told her you are smartest girl, so I am not surprised."
"I wouldn't call it 'very good,' but I appreciate that," Hermione chuckled.
"Herm-own-ninny," Viktor said seriously. "You are good. You are smart. You are beautiful. Do not tell yourself anything different. You must remember this."
Hermione smiled, touched, and leaned up to give Viktor a soft kiss on his cheek. "Thank you," she said. "I will try to remember that."
"I vill remind you in many letters," Viktor said.
They walked back to Ron and Harry after a moment. Viktor stopped in front of Harry. "I liked Diggory," said Viktor to Harry. "He vos alvays polite to me. Alvays. Even though I vos from Durmstrang - with Karkaroff," he added, scowling.
"Have you got a new Headmaster yet?" asked Harry.
Viktor shrugged. He held out his hand and shook Harry's hand and then Ron's.
Ron looked like he was suffering some sort of painful internal struggle. If the moment hadn't been so sweet, Hermione probably would have laughed. Viktor gave her one last look and started walking away. Suddenly, Ron burst out, "Can I have your autograph?!"
Hermione had to turn away so Ron wouldn't see her laugh. Viktor, being the sweet man he was, complied. Hermione could only shake her head.
The weather could not have been more different on the journey back to King's Cross than it had been on their way to Hogwarts the previous September. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky. Hermione, Ron, and Harry had mercifully managed to get a compartment to themselves. Pigwidgeon was once again hidden under Ron's dress robes to stop him hooting continually; Hedwig was dozing, her head under her wing, and Crookshanks was curled up in a spare seat like a large, furry ginger cushion. The three friends talked more fully and freely than they had done all week, as the train sped them southwards.. They only broke off their conversation about what action Dumbledore might be taking, even now, to stop Voldemort only when the lunch trolley arrived.
When Hermione returned from the trolley and put her money back into her schoolbag, she dislodged a copy of the Daily Prophet, which she had been carrying in there.
Hermione saw Harry look at the newspaper warily. 'There's nothing in there. You can look for yourself, but there's nothing at all. I've been checking every day. Just a small piece the day after the third task, saying you won the Tournament. They didn't even mention Cedric. Nothing about any of it. If you ask me, Fudge is forcing them to keep quiet."
"He'll never keep Rita quiet," said Harry. "Not on a story like this."
"Oh, Rita hasn't written anything at all since the third task," said Hermione. "As a matter of fact,' she added, figuring now was as good of time as any to tell them, finally. "Rita Skeeter isn't going to be writing anything at all for a while. Not unless she wants me to spill the beans on her."
"What are you talking about?" said Ron.
"I found out how she was listening in on private conversations when she wasn't supposed to be coming into the grounds," said Hermione in a rush.
"How was she doing it?" said Harry at once.
"How did you find out?" said Ron, staring at her.
"Well, it was you, really, who gave me the idea, Harry," she said.
"Did I?" said Harry, perplexed. "How?"
"Bugging," said Hermione happily.
"But you said they didn't work –"
"Oh, not electronic bugs," said Hermione. "No, you see ... Rita Skeeter" – Hermione's voice trembled with quiet triumph – "is an unregistered Animagus. She can turn –"
Hermione pulled the glass jar out of her bag.
"– into a beetle."
"You're kidding," said Ron. "You haven't... she's not…"
"Oh, yes she is," said Hermione happily, brandishing the jar at them.
Inside were a few twigs and leaves, and one large, fat beetle.
"That's never – you're kidding –" Ron whispered, lifting the jar to his eyes.
"No, I'm not," said Hermione, beaming. "I caught her on the windowsill in the hospital wing. Look very closely, and you'll notice the markings around her antennae are exactly like those foul glasses she wears."
Harry looked and shook his head in agreement. 'There was a beetle on the statue the night we heard Hagrid telling Madame Maxime about his mum!'
"Exactly," said Hermione. "And Viktor pulled a beetle out of my hair after we'd had our conversation by the lake. And unless I'm very much mistaken, Rita was perched on the windowsill of the Divination class the day your scar hurt. She's been buzzing around for stories all year."
"When we saw Malfoy under that tree," said Ron slowly.
"He was talking to her, in his hand," said Hermione. "He knew, of course. That's how she's been getting all those nice little interviews with the Slytherins. They wouldn't care that she was doing something illegal, as long as they were giving her horrible stuff about us and Hagrid."
Hermione took the glass jar back from Ron and smiled at the beetle, which buzzed angrily against the glass.
"I've told her I'll let her out when we get back to London," said Hermione. "I've put an Unbreakable Charm on the jar, you see, so she can't transform. And I've told her she's to keep her quill to herself for a whole year. See if she can't break the habit of writing horrible lies about people."
Smiling serenely, Hermione placed the beetle back inside her schoolbag. The door of the compartment slid open.
"Very clever, Granger," said Draco Malfoy.
Crabbe and Goyle were standing behind him. All three of them looked more pleased with themselves, more arrogant and more menacing than ever.
"So," said Malfoy slowly, advancing slightly into the compartment, and looking around at them, a smirk quivering on his lips. "You caught some pathetic reporter, and Potter's Dumbledore's favourite boy again. Big deal."
His smirk widened. Crabbe and Goyle leered.
"Trying not to think about it, are we?" said Malfoy softly, looking around at all three of them. "Trying to pretend it hasn't happened?"
"Get out," said Harry.
"You've picked the losing side, Potter! I warned you! I told you you ought to choose your company more carefully, remember? When we met on the train, first day at Hogwarts? I told you not to hang around with riff-raff like this!" He jerked his head at Ron and Hermione. "Too late now, Potter! They'll be the first to go, now the Dark Lord's back! Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers first! Well – second – Diggory was the f—"
It was as though someone had exploded a box of fireworks within the compartment. Hermione, Ron, and Harry were all on their feet, each having used a different hex. Hermione looked up at the door and saw Fred and George standing there with grins on their faces.
"Thought we'd see what those three were up to," said Fred matter-of-factly, stepping onto Goyle, and into the compartment. He had his wand out, and so did George, who was careful to tread on Malfoy as he followed Fred inside.
"Interesting effect," said George, looking down at Crabbe. "Who used the Furnunculus curse?"
"Me," said Harry.
"Odd," said George lightly. "I used Jelly-Legs. Looks as though those two shouldn't be mixed. He seems to have sprouted little tentacles all over his face. Well, let's not leave them here, they don't add much to the decor."
Ron, Harry and George kicked, rolled and pushed the unconscious Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle – each of whom looked distinctly the worse for the jumble of jinxes with which they had been hit – out into the corridor, then came back into the compartment and rolled the door shut.
"Exploding Snap, anyone?" said Fred, pulling out a pack of cards.
Halfway through their fifth game, Harry stopped playing and looked at the twins. "You going to tell us, then?" he said to George. "Who you were blackmailing?"
"Oh," said George darkly. "That."
"It doesn't matter," said Fred, shaking his head impatiently. "It wasn't anything important. Not now, anyway."
"We've given up," said George, shrugging.
But Harry, Ron and Hermione kept on asking, and finally Fred said, "All right, all right, if you really want to know ... it was Ludo Bagman."
"Bagman?" said Harry sharply. "Are you saying he was involved in –"
"Nah," said George gloomily. "Nothing like that. Stupid git. He wouldn't have the brains."
"Well, what, then?" said Ron.
Fred hesitated, then said, "You remember that bet we had with him, at the Quidditch World Cup? About how Ireland would win, but Krum would get the Snitch?"
"Yeah," said Harry and Ron slowly.
"Well, the git paid us in leprechaun gold he'd caught from the Irish mascots."
"So?"
"So," said Fred impatiently, "it vanished, didn't it? By next morning, it had gone!"
"But – it must've been an accident, mustn't it?" said Hermione.
George laughed very bitterly. "Yeah, that's what we thought, at first. We thought if we just wrote to him, and told him he'd made a mistake, he'd cough up. But nothing doing. Ignored our letter. We kept trying to talk to him about it at Hogwarts, but he was always making some excuse to get away from us."
"In the end, he turned pretty nasty," said Fred. "Told us we were too young to gamble, and he wasn't giving us anything."
"So we asked for our money back," said George, glowering.
"He didn't refuse!" gasped Hermione.
"Right in one," said Fred.
"But that was all your savings!" said Ron.
"Tell me about it," said George. "'Course, we found out what was going on in the end. Lee Jordan's dad had had a bit of trouble getting money off Bagman as well. Turns out he's in big trouble with the goblins. Borrowed loads of gold off them. A gang of them cornered him in the woods after the World Cup and took all the gold he had, and it still wasn't enough to cover all his debts. They followed him all the way to Hogwarts to keep an eye on him. He's lost everything gambling. Hasn't got two Galleons to rub together. And you know how the idiot tried to pay the goblins back?"
"How?" said Harry.
"He put a bet on you, mate," said Fred. "Put a big bet on you to win the Tournament. Bet against the goblins."
"So that's why he kept trying to help me win!" said Harry. "Well – I did win, didn't I? So he can pay you your gold!"
"Nope," said George, shaking his head. "The goblins play as dirty as him. They say you drew with Diggory, and Bagman was betting you'd win outright. So Bagman had to run for it. He made a run for it right after the third task."
George sighed deeply, and started dealing out the cards again.
The rest of the journey was uneventful. When they pulled into King's Cross Station, they took their time getting their things together. Hermione and Ron struggled out the compartment door past Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were still laying on the ground.
It was only after they had nearly left the platform that they realised Harry and the twins weren't with them. Hermione looked back and saw Harry finally stepping off the train and making his way towards them. They went through the barrier.
Mrs Weasley was waiting just beyond the barrier. Near her was a large man Hermione recognised as Harry's Uncle Vernon. She wanted to spit at him, but refrained. Hermione searched the crowd and finally caught a glimpse of her parents, whom she waved over enthusiastically. After all that had happened, she looked forward to spending quality time with them and working on their relationship.
Bert and Mary nearly crushed Hermione in a huge hug, lifting her feet off the platform. "We missed you so much!" Bert said.
"I missed you too!" Hermione said. "Let me just say goodbye to everyone, and then we can go."
"You didn't say goodbye on the train?" Bert asked, perplexed.
"We did but… it was a very hard year," she said. "I'll tell you all about it when we get home."
She walked over to the Weasleys, Harry, and Vernon Dursley. Mrs Weasley had just been hugging Harry and let him go to hug Hermione as well. "Keep in touch as well, Hermione," Mrs Weasley said. "I hope you can come this summer."
Hermione nodded and smiled. She turned back to Ron and Harry.
"See you, Harry," said Ron, clapping Harry on his back.
"Bye, Harry," said Hermione and was overcome with emotion. Before she knew what she was doing, she kissed Harry on the cheek. Blushing, she turned away quickly and gave Ron a big hug.
"Bye, 'Mione," he whispered in her ear.
"I'll see you soon," she said back.
"Maybe I'll write to you in the meantime," Ron said with a smile. "I don't want Viktor to be the only one getting to talk to Hogwarts' smartest girl."
Hermione gasped as Ron let go of the hug and gave her a goofy grin. She watched as he walked off with the rest of the Weasleys, unable to stop a goofy grin of her own.