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Mundungus Fletcher Arrested for Weasley Murder

Hermione stared at the paper spread out before her. She had been reading it for the last half an hour, over and over again, her shock keeping her from doing anything else. Mundungus? Ginny's killer? Hermione never had much use for the thieving Order member, but she found it almost impossible to believe he could be a killer. Yet there he was, staring up at her from the front page, a haunted look in his eyes. According to The Daily Prophet, Mundungus had confessed everything. He claimed that Harry, Hermione and Ginny had interrupted him while he was robbing the Weasley house. He knocked them all out, and then, angry at Arthur for an imagined slight, used Hermione's wand to kill Ginny. He now felt remorse and wished to accept his punishment: life in Azkaban.

This can't be true. Mundungus liked Ginny! Why would he kill her? Again and again she read the story, but the words did not change. Mr. Weasley spoke in sadness and regret, but claimed to be glad the truth was out. "Perhaps our family can now find peace." Finally raising her eyes from the Prophet, Hermione looked around the Great Hall for Ron. Had he known? Surely his father would have told him what was happening. Why didn't he tell me? An even better question: Why hadn't the Prophet contacted Hermione or Harry? She knew her friend was just as much in the dark as she was. It seemed impossible that The Prophet, and especially the Aurors, would not want their input on the subject. Hermione tried to again rack her brain about that day. Wouldn't I remember something? Dung wasn't that great of a wizard to have so thoroughly wiped our brains. But of course there was nothing. Frankly, it's humiliating to have been overpowered by that little rat. And I guess The Prophet didn't want a quote from Hermione Granger, mudblood outcast extraordinaire. But wouldn't The-Boy-Who-Lived warrant a sound bite?

And if she was innocent of any wrong-doing, why was she still an outcast? Shouldn't her old friends be running up to her, apologizing for their treatment of her? Why wasn't this story vindicating her and Harry? Didn't this clear them of any lingering doubt? Why was just now she reading this story along with everyone else???

Hermione continued to scan the Hall for Ron, but the closest she came was Draco, who scowled at the sight of her when their eyes met. There was more hatred in his gaze than usual. Sure, find some more ways this is my fault, Ferret. Sorry I couldn't die in her place for you. She refused to back down, and finally Draco looked away. More than a few other students were looking at her; it was clear that everyone had read The Prophet. She couldn't believe no one in authority had told her about this.

"Hermione?" the tentative voice of Professor Lupin interrupted her. "Did you know about this?"

"No," she said. "For some reason, I didn't rate as a source. No one told me anything. Did you know? Why didn't you tell me, tell Harry?"

"The professors are all in the dark, Hermione," Lupin said, sitting down next to her. "Believe me, McGonagall would have told you, and so would I. I don't even think Dumbledore knew. I'm not sure why Arthur didn't owl us or something. It's a hell of a way to find out for you. So Harry didn't know either? Poor Ginny; I can barely believe it. Mundungus?"

"Not so hard to believe from a dirty little sneak thief," Snape drawled in his silky voice, coming up behind them. "And don't assume everyone is as ignorant as the two of you. The Minister contacted me as soon as Fletcher confessed. He wished for me to alert young Malfoy, as Ron would be out of school for a time."

"He wanted Draco to know, but not me or Harry?" Hermione asked, incredulous. "I don't believe you."

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger." Snape swept away, leaving Lupin and Hermione glaring after him.

"God, I hate that man."

"Hermione, Professor Snape is still your teacher, and so am I. Save that kind of talk for Harry, alright? And I'll go agree with you in the faculty room." He gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, rose from the table and walked out of the Great Hall.

Hermione waited for Harry to come to breakfast, but after sitting for twenty more minutes, she decided he must have read the article and was hiding somewhere. Well, no since sitting here any longer, putting on a show for everyone. Maybe I can skip Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid would understand and I cannot face the Slytherins right now. She couldn't face Draco specifically.

Hagrid was a paragon of understanding, as usual. Hermione stayed in her room through lunch, but she couldn't afford to skive off her afternoon Charms. All eyes turned to her as she entered the room; she garnered even more whispers than usual. Harry wasn't there, and she hadn't seen him in the common room, either.

He must be taking this even harder than I am. He liked Mundungus, and I still think there was something going on with him and Ginny. I really want to talk to him about it. And God, can't anyone mind their own business? Can't they pay attention to Flitwick and not me?

"Hermione?"

"What?" she snapped, turning to the girl beside her. Professor Flitwick loudly cleared his throat and Hermione gave him an apologetic smile. He turned back to the class and continued with their freezing charm lesson.

"Sorry," Lavender Brown said. "I didn't mean to startle you. Do you think we could talk after class?"

"Going to Granger for pointers, Brown?" Terry Boot whispered. "From what I hear, you don't need any. I guess there's always room for improvement, though, right Granger?"

Lavender turned scarlet and turned back to her desk, but Hermione gave Terry an appraising look. You just made the list, pal, the look clearly said. Terry must have interpreted it correctly because he too turned away from her.

Hermione studied Lavender for the rest of the class period. Freezing charms were old hat to her, so it wasn't imperative that she hang on Flitwick's every word. Hermione and

Lavender had been dorm mates for the last six years; though never close, they had always been friendly before Ginny's death. Afterward, Lavender had been one of the few students in the school who had not turned on Harry and Hermione. She didn't go out of her way to defend them, but neither did she join in her classmates taunting and pranks. That alone made Hermione grateful to her; as Hermione's roommate Lavender would have had plenty of opportunity to torment her.

I'll listen to her, Hermione thought. No harm in being nice for a change. And what the hell is Terry Boot going on about?

After class Lavender waited for Hermione in the hallway.

"Thanks," she said when Hermione walked towards her.

"Don't thank me yet," Hermione said. "It looks like your stock plummeted just by talking to me."

"It can't drop any further. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Can we go somewhere?"

"Library?"

"Perfect."

The girls walked in silence until they were seated at a semi-secluded corner of the library. Madam Pince was out of earshot and most students were readying for dinner.

"What's up?" Hermione asked, business-like. It was clear this wasn't going to be a social call.

"You heard him, right? Terry Boot?" Lavender looked anxious and harried; she was twisting her robes and there were circles under her eyes that Hermione hadn't noticed before. Normally Lavender didn't leave her room unless she was completely polished.

"Yeah, so? That guy's a pig, probably the worst one in Ravenclaw. What's the problem?"

"He's not the only one," said Lavender. "Someone has been spreading vile rumors about me, Hermione. Normally I would laugh it off, buteveryone's been saying things to me. It's disgusting and none of it's true. I don't even have a boyfriend! I had to erase things in the bathroom, too. Blaise Zabini actually asked me how much I charge, Hermione! I know how hard it's been for you since... You handle things so well! I was hoping you could help me."

Hermione looked at her fellow Gryffindor sympathetically. She certainly knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of dirty rumors; unbidden, an image of a green Slytherin couch swam in her mind.

"Do you have any idea who started saying these things?" Hermione asked. She saw Lavender relax visibly, clearly understanding that Hermione would indeed help her.

"I have no idea. It started this past weekend, just a few remarks. Then I started hearing more and more. Apparently I've already slept with all of Gryffindor house and I've started on Ravenclaw and Slytherin now. At first people were sort of whispering and giggling, but now they're saying things to my face."

"Is anyone mad at you for something?" Hermione said. "Did someone ask you out, or anything? Did you beat someone on a test?"

"No," Lavender said. "I haven't dated anyone since Seamus and he would never say these things. We did nothing like that, Hermione, I swear. And I try to be nice to everyone. I mean, sometimes Parvati and I gossip, but nothing malicious. I can't understand why anyone would say these things, or why anyone believes it."

"People say and believe everything, Lavender, take it from me," said Hermione.

Lavender gave her an understanding nod. "I read The Prophet, Hermione. I'm sorry."

Hermione shrugged; she really only wanted to talk to Harry about it. "I'll see what I can find out for you, Lav. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

"Thanks, Hermione. You're a lifesaver."

Hermione gave her a crooked grin. Hermione Granger, girl detective, on the trail again. And Holmes needs her Watson.

Hermione finally found Harry in the Quidditch stands; he was staring onto the field, shivering in the cold with his hands in his pockets.

"Do you believe it?" he asked without turning towards her.

"I don't know," she answered, climbing the stands and sitting down beside him. She laid her head on his shoulder and he linked an arm around her. "I guess so. Why else would he confess? Mundungus wasn't the sort to admit to anything, especially if he didn't do it."

"Yeah," Harry said. "But why would he do it? It doesn't make any sense. Can you remember anything?"

"No," Hermione said. "Nothing. Why didn't the paper contact us, do you think? Why didn't the Weasleys? Aren't you talking to Ron's mom now? Did she say anything to you?"

"Not a thing," said Harry. "She's sent me one or two letters, but not even a whisper of this. I can't believe The Prophet didn't want to talk to us. You'd think they'd be up our asses."

"Yeah, I know," she said. "Who knows, Harry? If Mundungus confessed, then I guess he did it. What more is there to know?"

"Maybe," Harry said. He wasn't convinced, though, and he didn't think Hermione was, either. But what could they do? At this point, a big fat nothing.

"I know you're upset, Harry," she said. "That's an understatement, but you know what I mean. I am, too. Maybe we'll learn something more; maybe it'll start to make sense. Maybe now that the article's out Mrs. Weasley will tell you something. I don't know, Harry, I think it's best if we put it aside for now."

"Can you do that?"

"No," she admitted. "But I can pretend to. We've got other things to worry about right now. Lavender Brown asked me for some help today."

"Does it have anything to do with the rather detailed message I read about her in the bathroom?"

"What did it say?"

Harry blushed. "I love you, Hermione, but there's no way I can tell you that."

"Fair enough. Yes, that's why she came to me. She wants us to find out who started the rumors. She's really upset."

"She should be," Harry said, thinking about the scrawled words in the boy's room. "It was pretty gross."

"I can only imagine. Boys never tire of saying ugly things about girls."

Harry didn't say anything, but he knew Lavender's plight must hit rather close to home for Hermione. It angered him to think of all the horrible taunts Hermione had endured in the last year, and he was ashamed to think that until recently, he hadn't been there for her. At least now they were back on track.

"See what you can find out," Hermione said. "If you can find a source, great. Talk to Seamus and anyone else who has dated Lavender in the last year. I'll start with the girls. They can be rather evil, too."

"Flip it," Harry said. "You take the boys, I'll take the girls. No offense, but not too many of the girls are going to talk to you."

"As opposed to the guys, you are panting at my reputation as a slut, right?"

"Hermione -"

"Forget it. You're right. I guess it's back to the dungeons. Yippee."

O O O O O O

"People will say we're in love, Granger," Draco said when she approached him after dinner.

"As long as they don't say it to me," Hermione answered. "Although I guess I can use the spell practice on anyone foolish enough to say such things. Can we go somewhere without your cronies?"

"Now they're really going to get suspicious," Draco said, rising from the table. Blaise gave Draco a thumbs up, snickering. Hermione gave him a sunny smile accompanied by her middle finger and led Draco away.

"What now?" he asked as they were walking through the hall. "I'm not going to talk to Ron for you, and I don't want to talk about Ginny, either."

"Neither do I," she snapped. "I think we're way past that subject. What do you know about Lavender Brown?"

"I know her reputation has suddenly gone from biggest prude to Granger-worthy," he smirked.

"One day you're going to tell me how I can be both the biggest outcast and the biggest slut at school," Hermione said. "How is it everyone's simultaneously avoiding me and sleeping with me? Shut up, don't say anything. I don't want detention for hexing you tonight. Do you know who started the rumors?"

"Why do I always have to be your Deep Throat, Granger?" Draco looked bored, but he was a little intrigued. As far as he knew, the talk about Brown was so much hogwash, but that didn't make it any less fun.

"I wondered if you were still sneaking muggle movies," Hermione said, raising her eyebrows at him. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. I come to you because as much as it pains me to admit, you know most of the goings-on here, at least in Slytherin House."

"I thought youwere supposed to be the know-it-all."

"My powers only extend so far."

"Why should I help you?" Draco asked. Lately it felt like she was always in his face. She was much easier to hate at a distance, and he really didn't want to encourage her to come around. Still, he guessed she had enough of a smart mouth that even up close he could still hate her a little.

"I don't know, Malfoy, maybe it'll be good karma for you. Or I can owe you one." That probably wasn't a good idea. "We don't have to like each other, but it wouldn't kill you to be decent once in awhile."

"Little do you know," he replied. "Look, I don't know who started it. Blaise and a few others have been eating it up, but I know it didn't come from them. My best guess is Finnegan."

"Lavender says no way."

"Well, that's the best I can offer you. Am I done now?"

"Yes, you may return to your lair," she said, waving her hands at him. "Oh - and thanks."

He gave her an undecipherable look before walking away. Hermione leaned against the wall, thinking. Was Seamus really out of the question? She used to be friendly with the Irish Gryffindor, but he had turned on her like everyone else in her House. He now spent all of his time with Dean and the other Quidditch thugs; they weren't shining examples of couth and chivalry. He and Lavender had always seemed happy, but if their relationship had ended badly, it wasn't hard to imagine Seamus wanting revenge. She couldn't cross him off the list, no matter what Lavender said.

Hermione returned to Gryffindor Tower, eager to see what Harry had learned. He wasn't there, but Seamus was lounging by the fire talking to Romilda Vane.

"Seamus?" Hermione started in what she hoped was a friendly tone.

"Granger?" he mocked in the same voice, sneering at her.

She took a deep breath. Don't piss off the person you need something from. Remain friendly. Focused.

"Can I talk to you?"

"Do you have eyes, Granger?" Romilda snapped. "He's busy."

Friendly. Focused.

"I see that," she said in a fake, sweet voice. "Perhaps when you're finished, Seamus?"

"I can talk now," he said, stilling Romilda's protests. "What's on your mind? Need some flying lessons?"

Hermione sank into Romilda's vacated seat, ignoring the daggers the girl was throwing at her. "I'll pass on that for now. I actually wanted to ask you about Lavender."

Anger briefly flitted past his face, but Seamus affected a mock-leer and raised his eyebrows at her. "I've moved on, if that's what you're wondering. My heart's completely free - you interested? I promise I won't call out her name while we're-"

"Thanks," she said quickly. "A tempting offer. So you guys didn't part on bad terms or anything?"

"God, Granger, don't you ever mind your own business?" Seamus snapped, dropping his act.

"I try to, Seamus, I really do. But no one will let me."

"Lavender broke up with me, I got over it. Happy?"

"What about Romilda?" Hermione asked, curious. "Are you dating her now?"

"She hangs around me," he said. "She's okay, I guess, but we're not going out or anything. From what I hear, Lavender's more than moved on. It's none of my business if she suddenly turned into a giant whore - what do I care?"

"Do you really believe that?"

"I didn't at first," Seamus said. "But a lot people have been saying it. Who knows? I wasn't lucky enough to see that side of her, but people change, right? Can I go now? Do you need the medical histories of all my past girlfriends? Are we going to start making out? Cause if not, I've got homework."

"No, we're not going to make out."

"Then leave me alone." Seamus rose from his chair and stalked towards the boys' dormitory. He didn't look at her again. Hermione noticed Romilda trying to get his attention, but he ignored her, too. She gave Hermione another nasty look.

"How many guys do you need to add to your list, Granger?" she called across the common room. "Between you and Brown, there won't be any left for the rest of us."

"Well, you can have all the sloppy seconds you want," Hermione shot back. She wanted to wait for Harry, but she also needed to talk to Lavender, who was no doubt hiding in their room. She scribbled a quick note for Harry and went upstairs.

"Hey," she said to the Lavender-shaped lump under the girl's covers. "Are you okay?"

Lavender emerged from her blankets. Her face was streaked with tears. "God, how did you get through the last year? I wouldn't have been able to do it. People are so mean."

"You need a tougher skin," Hermione said. "You get strong, you get even. That's how it works. You hold you head up and don't let them get to you. If they break you, then they've won. You just can't let them."

"It's really hard," Lavender said, fresh tears springing into her eyes.

"That's life," said Hermione. "Some new scandal always comes along sooner or later to take the heat off. People get bored, they move on. Except in my case, of course, but you'll be fine soon."

"When?"

"As soon as we expose the person who did this to you."

"Do you know who it is?" Lavender asked eagerly.

"I've got an idea," she answered. "I have to talk to Harry first. I should know for sure by

tomorrow. And we'll make the person take it all back."

"Thank you, Hermione." Lavender gave her a sincere smile and laid back down on her bed.

If only my troubles would be gone in the morning. Sleep, as usual, was a long time coming.

O O O O O O

Hermione pulled Harry aside first thing in the morning.

"Can't it wait until after breakfast?" he whined.

"You can have your toast in a few minutes, Harry," she admonished. "I think Lavender's reputation is more important than your stomach right now. You sound worse than Ron. What did you find out?"

"I talked to Luna - she was very forthcoming," Harry said. "For Luna, anyway. She said she didn't think it originated in Ravenclaw House. Most of the Ravenclaw boys have been saying stuff, but none of the girls have, because Padma told them all off. Luna said that except for maybe Zacharias Smith, none of the Hufflepuffs have been gossiping, either. I double-checked with Hannah Abbott, and she confirmed it."

"It's not really their style," Hermione conceded. "Did Luna say that the Crumple-Horned Snorkack is the culprit?"

"Be nice," Harry said. "Luna never did anything to you."

"You're right, I'm sorry," said Hermione, chastened. "It was good of her to help. So if we believe Draco, which for once I do, the Slytherins aren't the originators of the gossip, either. That leaves our illustrious House. Man, they've gone downhill."

"You think it was Seamus?"

"Actually, no," said Hermione. "I've got someone else in mind. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to find out for sure. You can feed your tummy now."

Hermione's head was jumbled as she walked downstairs. What did people get out of malicious gossip? What was so exciting about seeing others brought down and humiliated? Lavender Brown was a nice girl; she didn't deserve such treatment. True, she and Parvati Patil had been known to spread stories around a bit when they were younger. Hermione had always felt, though, that Lavender and Parvati were just being silly; there never seemed to be any mean-spiritedness to their prattle. From what Hermione had heard the last few days, the stories about Lavender were especially nasty and unfounded. She certainly wasn't naive; Hermione had seen and endured too much in the last year to really be surprised by anything people said and did to one another. It made her sad, though, to think that ugly words could cause so much damage. It made her angry, too.

She scanned the Great Hall for her rumor-monger and spotted her right where she thought she would be: cozying up to Seamus Finnegan.

"Romilda!" she called out to the younger girl. Romilda flipped her long black hair and gave Hermione a withering look.

"Can I help you with something?"

"You can extract yourself from Seamus long enough to come over here," Hermione said, crossing her arms. Although she was not one hundred percent certain that Romilda was behind Lavender's slander, she thought that the Gryffindor was a good bet. Her comments last night had led Hermione to suspect her, and Luna, Draco and Hannah had cleared their own Houses. The cattiness and pettiness of the gossip suggested a jealous girl, and who better than Romilda? Whether or not Seamus was really over Lavender or not, Romilda obviously didn't think he was.

Romilda decided that it was best to talk to Granger; who knew what the stupid bitch would start yelling if she didn't? She followed her out into the hallway. Hermione was reminded of how simple it was to trap Pansy and she hoped Romilda would be just as easy.

"I'm sure you thought tearing down Lavender was the best way to get Seamus," Hermione said without preamble. "But if I have to go to Professor McGonagall, you're going to be very sorry."

"You've lost me, Granger," Romilda said. "I really haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

"McGonagall it is, then." Hermione turned to leave.

"Wait!"

She turned slowly back around. "Yes?"

"You can't blame me for this," Romilda said. "It's not my fault that Lavender's a big old slut."

"Romilda, speak now or forever face expulsion. It's your choice."

"You have no proof," Romilda said stubbornly.

"Well your confession right there is proof enough," Hermione said. "Look, I'm sorry Seamus isn't falling into your lap. But that's not Lavender's fault. You're going clear this up today. If you can do it without me getting the professors involved, then bully for you."

"Granger, you can't tell me what to do," said Romilda, turning red.

"No, I can't, but McGonagall can. Do you want me to show her some of the specific things you and your sidekicks have written?"

"As quickly as it caught on, there's got to be some truth to the rumors, wouldn't you say?" Romilda said, changing tactics. "Why do you think everyone believed it? It's gone beyond me, Granger."

"People believe everything, Romilda," said Hermione wearily. "It doesn't make it true. Don't start believing your own press. If you don't make this go away, I'm going to tell Seamus it was you and then I'm going to start a little rumor of my own. You don't have to tell everyone you made it up. Just let them know it's not true. I'm letting you off easy."

"Why would they suddenly think it wasn't true if I don't tell them I made it up?" asked Romilda. She was certainly regretting her cattiness now. She had just wanted to knock Lavender off of her pedestal and to let Seamus see that there were more worthy girls out there for him. Damn Granger for getting involved. Nosy bitch.

"Figure it out," Hermione said. "By the end of the day, the only stories I want to hear about Lavender are how wronged she's been." Hermione turned from the girl and walked back to the Great Hall. Telling Lavender would probably be the highlight of her day; this particular situation was upsetting her more than she wanted to admit. She wouldn't tell Lavender who it was; she'd just keep that up her sleeve for now, until she needed something from Romilda. She knew Lavender wouldn't care as long as her name was cleared. She was Hermione Granger, defender of virtue. She smiled a little to herself, and then remembered that green couch once again. Where had her savior been?