During the party that night and the weeks that followed the second task, Hermione found herself bombarded with questions about what happened down in the lake (despite being asleep for all of it). Harry and Ron were pelted with constant questions, too, but Ron appeared to rather enjoy it, and the details of his story slowly grew more outlandish with each retelling.

Most annoying of all, Hermione was being teased relentlessly about being Viktor's hostage for the task. She knew it would die down over time, but it was bothersome to be the only subject most anyone else wanted to discuss with her. She had gone to the Yule Ball with him for Merlin's sake, what was so different about this?

At least Malfoy never asked about it, which she appreciated. He actively seemed to avoid the subject of the second task, even when she tried to thank him again for finding the spell Harry used so successfully. Theo was kind enough to not mention it either.

The weather began to change in March, with fewer snowfalls and more rain. A harsh wind picked up most days, too, chapping their lips and hands whenever they spent time on the grounds. At breakfast on the morning of the next Hogsmeade visit, Hedwig arrived with a note from Sirius, looking distinctly ruffled. Harry stroked her feathers while she nipped a bit of pumpkin juice from his goblet, and read the message to Hermione and Ron.

Sirius would meet them at two o'clock just past Dervish and Banges on the edge of the village, and he wanted them to bring as much food as they could. Since Hermione would be spending the morning in Hogsmeade showing Viktor around, Harry and Ron made plans to visit the kitchens before coming to meet her.

Viktor came into the Great Hall then, scanning the tables. He had doffed his Durmstrang uniform in favour of more casual clothing, a loose shirt and trousers under a long coat. When he spotted Hermione, he made for the Gryffindor table instead of the Slytherin table where the other Durmstrang students usually ate.

A few seats down, Parvati and Lavender started giggling behind their hands and giving Hermione pointed looks. Those two had been some of the worst for badgering her about Viktor, constantly wanting to gossip before bed and sighing over how romantic he must be, being an international Quidditch player and all. Where Quidditch and romance intersected, Hermione had yet to determine. Since the tournament began, they wanted to talk about Cedric and Harry a good deal, too, but Hermione flatly refused to discuss Harry's love life.

Once Viktor finished his breakfast, Hermione shrugged into her coat and stood. She also snugged on a hat and gloves, not wanting to be completely windswept by the time she reached the village. Viktor offered his arm for escort and she took it lightly, making promises to see Harry and Ron later that afternoon.

Ron looked rather sulky now, not meeting her eyes. Hermione hoped he wasn't thinking that she would stand them up on a chance to visit with Sirius. Harry waggled his eyebrows dramatically at her and Viktor and she glowered at him, which succeeded in causing him to snort into his goblet and spray droplets of pumpkin juice across the lens of his glasses.

Hermione smirked at him. Maybe he would keep his eyebrows to himself next time.

Viktor nodded at his fellow Durmstrang students on the way out, telling Hermione about his plans to meet up with one or two of them in the village after she left that afternoon. Malfoy, who was seated between Crabbe and Goyle not far from the Durmstrang group, was wearing an expression similar to Ron's. He didn't look up as she passed, focused on violently stabbing a kipper on his plate.

Hermione and Viktor spent the morning exploring the tidy little village. It was a rare, mild day for March and a weak sun shone upon them, giving off enough warmth that she was able to remove her coat entirely. She showed Viktor some of her favourite places on the High Street, from Honeydukes to Scrivenshaft's, and Zonko's to the Three Broomsticks.

It was the last of those they stopped in for lunch, Hermione assuring Viktor that he had to try the version of butterbeer Rosmerta served. She found a table to the side of the pub while Viktor went for their drinks.

Hanging her coat on the back of her chair, Hermione glanced around the crowded pub, seeing a handful of other Hogwarts students around, all with decidedly dark heads of hair. She was watching a beetle's progress along a nearby rafter when Viktor came back with two foaming tankards of butterbeer. Rosmerta herself came for their food order, and about fell over herself when Viktor was introduced.

Much like at the Yule Ball, Hermione found herself thinking that it was pleasant to spend time with Viktor. They didn't have a lot in common, but conversation came easily, like with Harry and Ron, or Theo and Malfoy…

Hermione blinked, tilting her head in thought. Malfoy? Where had that come from? Talking with Malfoy was only easy when he forgot himself enough to let his guard down. And when they had some semblance of privacy. And when he chose to overlook her lineage. Although, he had said he didn't see that as her complete identity anymore.

Viktor suddenly looked very serious and Hermione jolted back to their conversation. What did she miss? She raised her tankard and sipped steadily to cover her lapse in concentration.

"Her-my-knee, I vas vondering… vould you like to visit me over the summer? In Bulgaria?"

She choked slightly on her butterbeer and hastily set the tankard on the table, wiping foam from her lips with the back of her hand. Viktor continued, saving her from an immediate response.

"I vould like it very much to see you again after all this is over. If I may be so bold as to say, I have never felt this vay about any other girl before," he finished, gauging her reaction.

"I… I think I would like that, too, Viktor," Hermione said slowly, but genuinely. "I am not certain how my parents will feel about it right now, but perhaps we could arrange something. How will your schedule with Quidditch look once you finish school, though?"

Viktor frowned, looking as if he hadn't considered that. "Vell, I am considering a few different club teams at the moment, but I haven't signed vith anyone yet. I vill still be playing for the National team, too, of course. Ve have qvalifiers for the European Championship the folloving year." Viktor sighed, looking defeated. "You vill write to me, though?"

"Of course!" Hermione assured him. "Of course I will write." She patted his arm and smiled brightly. "I'm sure we'll see each other again after this year."

Viktor cheered up marginally at her efforts.

After paying their tab, Viktor helped Hermione out of her chair, and she threw her coat over her arm. On the way to the door, she was surprised to see Harry and Cho facing each other at a table on the opposite side of the pub. Cho must have decided to take a break from studying for her O.W.L.s and convinced Harry to come to Hogsmeade early. Selfishly, Hermione hoped that Ron wouldn't be in an even worse state now for feeling left behind.

Hermione and Viktor walked the cobblestone streets through Hogsmeade a while longer until the village church bell signalled half past one. As the last peal faded, she informed Viktor that she regrettably would need to leave for her prior engagement. They were currently near the entrance on the Hogwarts side of the village, and she needed to meet Harry and Ron across the other side of town by two o'clock.

Viktor offered to walk her there, but Hermione could already see two of his Durmstrang acquaintances tarrying over by the gate, and insisted that he go ahead and meet them instead. She didn't want to take the chance of Viktor seeing Sirius.

Viktor drew her to the side of the street, near a cottage backed by a small walled-in garden with leafy tendrils draped over its short wooden fence. Only a few other patrons ambled by, paying them no mind.

"Thank you for spending the day vith me," Viktor began. "If I may say, you look just as beautiful today, and every day, as the night of the Yule Ball."

Hermione felt heat rising in her cheeks.

"Thank you," she said, smiling softly. "I've had a lovely time with you today."

Viktor smiled in return, and suddenly, Hermione wanted to try something. Something that felt… unfinished from the night of the Yule Ball.

She wet her lips, anticipation coiling tightly in her middle as she summoned her courage. Taking a step closer, she tilted her face up to gaze searchingly into his dark eyes. Viktor interpreted her intentions correctly; gentle fingers came up to cradle her jaw, and his eyes dropped to her lips just before he leaned in to chastely press against them with his own. They stayed like that for a few moments before breaking apart, smiling shyly at each other.

Viktor cleared his throat. "Vell, I vill let you be on your way, Her-my-knee. I vill see you later, I hope?"

Hermione nodded and smiled widely at him before making her goodbyes and leaving to meet Harry and Ron.

The meeting with Sirius went about as well as it could have in a cave at the foot of the mountains, especially a cave that required nearly half an hour of strenuous hiking and climbing to reach. After everything, Ron was in a dour mood, but he mostly forgot to be bad-tempered once they'd actually started talking with Sirius. Buckbeak was there, too, and both he and Sirius ate voraciously out of the giant packs Harry and Ron brought filled with bread, chicken, and other assorted food parcels.

The subject of Mr. Crouch came up again after Harry spotted an article on him in one of the newspapers littering the ground of Sirius's hideout. Apparently, Crouch hadn't been seen in public anywhere since November.

They updated Sirius on Crouch's movements throughout the school since finding him on the map that first night, and Sirius told them what Crouch had been like during Voldemort's reign of terror: powerful, power-hungry, and ruthless. He had headed the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, authorising Aurors to kill without restrictions and ordering suspects imprisoned without trials. Amidst the mass confusion, terror, and panic of that time, many senior Ministry officials felt that Crouch's actions were justified, and he was well-poised to be the next Minister for Magic. That is, until his own son was caught with a group of Death Eaters.

Sirius spared no gruesome detail about Voldemort's first rise to power and its effects on the public and government alike. Hermione could imagine it all too well, and it was horrifying.

"It's likely that Crouch would do anything, and I mean anything, to catch Dark wizards, but..." Sirius paused, running a hand through his straggly hair. "I just don't know, Harry. Seems to me it'd be easier to keep an eye on things at Hogwarts by showing up to the tournament as planned instead of sneaking around."

Sirius, like Hermione, could only guess that Crouch and Moody had some private plan. Moody would have worked as an Auror directly under Crouch all those years ago.

On the path back to Hogwarts later that day, Hermione suggested that they see if Crouch was spending his weekends hiding in the castle, too.


Sunday afternoon found Hermione looking over Harry's shoulder at her own dot labelled next to Harry's and Ron's on the Marauder's Map inside the unused classroom where they often practised spellcasting. Moody was in his office, but Crouch was nowhere to be seen. Harry shrugged and folded the map back up.

"Maybe you should just ask Dumbledore?" Ron suggested to Harry. "He'll probably know if there's something you need to be worried about. More than competing in the tournament, anyway."

"That's not a bad idea, Ron," Hermione said, thinking it over. "How did Dumbledore react when you told him about your scar hurting over the summer, Harry? And the dream?"

"Er… I never actually told him," Harry said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Harry, I really think you should," Hermione said, frowning. "It could have something to do with You-Know-Who coming back soon."

"Well, we don't know for sure it'll be soon," Harry said. He shoved a hand through his untidy black hair. "Myself, I'm still hoping Trelawney turns out to be wrong."

Ron nodded vigorously in agreement.

Hermione nibbled her bottom lip, suddenly feeling anxious. She thought she had imparted how seriously they needed to take Voldemort's return, especially with all of the extra training. "Harry…" she began, twisting her hands together.

Harry forestalled her. "Don't worry Hermione, I'll tell him next time I see him alone."

Monday morning after Herbology, Hermione was glad to see that Hagrid had given up their project on the skrewts entirely. With lessons on unicorns finished, she had been dreading the return to wrangling monsters that were likely to land one in the Hospital Wing.

Instead, Hagrid met them in front of his cabin for the morning's Care of Magical Creatures class with several crates of furry creatures called nifflers. She had read about them, and was surprised Hagrid managed to find so many. Hermione thoroughly enjoyed watching the niffler she had chosen dive gracefully underground to unearth golden coins Hagrid had buried around the garden.

Malfoy seemed to be enjoying himself, too. Once when he thought nobody was looking, Hermione caught him scratching his niffler behind the ears. He looked up then, catching her eye and quickly pulling his hand away, and she pressed her lips tightly together, trying not to laugh.

Hermione's conversations with Malfoy and Theo in Arithmancy remained casual. Instead of visiting Hogsmeade, they had gone down to the Quidditch pitch over the weekend to get in a bit of flying. Malfoy did seem more cheerful than he had Saturday morning — having Theo back in his life seemed to have done a world of good for him.

She would have to ask Theo again what had caused the rift in the first place — though she suspected that she already knew. Theo, as a pureblood heir himself, had been uncommonly quick to accept her friendship. And he never seemed to hang around Malfoy's other friends, like Crabbe and Goyle, when he could help it. Hermione didn't want to pry into Malfoy's life too quickly, but it was still imperative that she find out if there was anything going on that could be connected to Voldemort's imminent return.

Friday began normally. She spoke with Theo in Ancient Runes that morning, and he confirmed the story she had put together regarding himself and Malfoy. Malfoy had been raised in pureblood royalty, and taught that he was special in every way, both magically and in name. As he got older, Malfoy began faithfully imitating his father's contemptuous mannerisms, and by the time they all came to Hogwarts, Malfoy was more interested in followers than real friends.

Theo had been raised with the same ideals, but his father hadn't been around much, and he had no desire to impress someone he didn't really know. Malfoy and Theo had a falling out early on during first year, after Malfoy nicked Neville's Remembrall.

Hermione's eyebrows shot up at that. She remembered their first flying lesson vividly; Neville broke his wrist, and Malfoy had scooped up the Remembrall and taunted Harry with it, ultimately leading to Harry's position on the Quidditch team. Theo said that Malfoy could be selfish, arrogant, and envious, but he had never been cruel until coming to Hogwarts.

Their Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson was so draining that Hermione considered skipping lunch in favour of a short nap. Professor Moody had given them a rigorous test on hex-deflection, and it had been unlike anything she'd ever faced. Unsurprisingly, she, Harry, and Ron had performed the best in the class thanks to their extra practice sessions.

Moody looked beyond pleased with the three of them, saying they ought to consider future careers as Aurors. Instead of leaving right away after the lesson ended, though, Harry hung back, motioning for Ron and Hermione to do the same. Once the rest of the class had filed out, Harry approached Moody.

"Professor Moody, do you have a moment?"

"Of course, Potter," Moody replied gruffly. "What do you need?"

"Well, you see, sir," Harry began. "I was just wondering… have you by chance seen Mr. Crouch lately?"

Hermione's heart dropped.

Moody looked Harry over for several moments, appearing to be sizing him up. "Now why would you be asking me about Crouch? Is something wrong?"

"No… not really," Harry said slowly, obviously trying to decide how to phrase things. "I thought that maybe Mr. Crouch had been looking into who put my name into the tournament, but he hasn't shown up to anything since the first task."

"Ah, I see," Moody replied, seeming to decide on something. He looked briefly over Hermione and Ron before focusing back on Harry. "What do you know about Crouch, Potter?"

Harry pushed his glasses back up on his nose. "Well, I've heard that he was serious about catching Dark wizards and witches. Back in Voldemort's day, at least."

Moody's lopsided mouth twisted distastefully. "That he was. Old Crouch would do anything to catch and imprison those he saw as doing wrong. He got greedy, though, and the public turned on him. Ended up being his downfall. He's been more cautious ever since."

Moody took a long draw from his hip flask. "Now listen here, Potter. I know you're worried about whoever entered your name into the tournament, but you just focus on the third task. You're showing whoever entered you in the first place that you have the makings of a winner. I'm looking out for you, too. You're in good hands."

Moody clapped Harry on the shoulder with a gnarled hand.

Harry nodded. "Thanks, Professor Moody."

As they walked to lunch, Hermione rounded on him.

"What were you thinking," she hissed, "practically confronting Moody about Crouch?"

"Instead of the guessing we've been doing, I figured it'd be easiest to ask Moody himself. Just not outright. Moody seemed reluctant to say much, though," Harry said thoughtfully, fingering the bridge of his nose.

"He didn't deny seeing him, though, did he?" Ron put in excitedly. "And he said Crouch had to be cautious now. I'll bet they do have some sort of plan."

During lunch, the day took a turn for the worse. Hermione felt like people were looking at her more than usual. Harry, too. Whatever it was, it probably wasn't good news, judging by the flat stares and whispers that cut off whenever they drew near. Harry seemed oblivious as he wolfed down treacle tart.

They descended the steps to the dungeons for their Double Potions lesson. Malfoy, Theo, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing near the door to the classroom, clustered with Pansy and her friends and looking at something Hermione couldn't see. With a feeling of foreboding, Hermione pulled Harry and Ron back to wait at the end of the corridor. When Snape motioned them inside the classroom, she kept her head down and settled at her usual table with Harry and Ron at the back of the room.

She only had a moment's warning.

"Hey, Granger!" Pansy shrieked, throwing something at her from across the room. Hermione caught it mere centimetres before it hit her in the face.

"Might want to take a look inside," Pansy said, sniggering now. Hermione glanced once at Malfoy, two tables over from Pansy's, but he wasn't looking back. At the table next to Malfoy's, Theo half-turned before hastily facing forward as Snape swept to the front of the room. Hermione looked down at a copy of Witch Weekly in her hands.

Once Snape turned to write instructions on the blackboard, Hermione rifled through the magazine under her desk with Harry and Ron looking over her shoulders on either side. After a number of recipes, quizzes, and other nonsense, Hermione found a large photograph of Harry. It looked to have been taken before the first task; he appeared rather put upon and kept trying to edge out of the picture. The real Harry next to her sighed, and she moved down the page to read the caption.

Heartbreak for Harry Potter

By Rita Skeeter

Steeling herself, Hermione read the article.

Harry Potter, the tragic hero of our time, faces tragedy once more. Deprived of love since he was young and now facing the dangerous unknowns of the Triwizard Tournament, Harry Potter thought he had found solace with his girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Unbeknownst to him, Miss Granger had other plans.

Granger, an ordinary but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous and powerful wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Ever since Viktor Krum, international Quidditch superstar and World Cup hero, arrived at Hogwarts, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum was taken in quickly by Miss Granger's deceit, and has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria, insisting that he has "never felt this way about any other girl."

Viktor Krum should —

Hermione turned the page and nearly gasped aloud, looking at a picture of herself and Viktor in Hogsmeade. They were standing close together in front of a little fenced-in garden, clearly moments away from embracing. In the photograph, Viktor's hand lifted to cup her cheek before freezing. Hermione forced herself to finish the article.

— look after his own heart, as it seems the devious Miss Granger is not satisfied with fame alone. Miss Granger has been seen trying to force her company on several other highly eligible individuals, even one Draco Malfoy, son of well-known philanthropists Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy and heir to the Malfoy Fortune. Readers need not worry, though, as it seems Mister Malfoy is wise to her schemes, and maintains a cold and distant demeanour.

"Draco would never go for the likes of her," says Pansy Parkinson, a lovely and vivacious fourth-year student. "As for Krum, there's been talk about Love Potions before. If anyone would be up for making a Love Potion, it's Granger. She's quite sly."

Love Potions remain banned at Hogwarts, and the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore, will no doubt want to investigate these claims. For now, we can only hope that Harry Potter will be able to pick up the pieces of his broken heart.

Hermione sat staring at the article long after she'd finished it, numb from shock. How had Rita known any of those things Viktor said to her? And the photograph! That horrible woman. Hermione didn't have a clue how Rita could possibly know anything about her and Malfoy talking, either.

Except… Malfoy had been standing next to Hermione when she ran into Rita in the Three Broomsticks. When she and Rita had the altercation that almost certainly provoked this rubbish article.

Hermione felt like banging her head on the table right then.

Suddenly Harry was elbowing her in the ribs. "Hermione… Hermione!" he whispered urgently. But it was a different voice behind her that made her look up.

"Is the lesson too simple for you today, Miss Granger?" came Snape's cold voice. She gave a start and twisted to look up into his black eyes, boring sharply into her own.

"Ah," he continued, "reading magazines under the table. Ten points from Gryffindor, I think. And I'll take that."

He reached for the magazine. Hermione hurriedly tried to close it as she handed it over, but Snape's finger caught on the page she had been reading. Dread curled in her belly as he skimmed the page then flipped back to the beginning of the article, and his mouth turned up in an unpleasant smile.

"But of course, what could be more important than the ever-colourful social life of Harry Potter?" Snape said mockingly. Laughter from Pansy and her friends rang around the classroom.

"Dear me, Heartbreak for Harry Potter…" Snape began, and to Hermione's horror, Snape proceeded to read the entire article out loud to the class, pausing frequently for laughter. Harry looked furious, and Ron looked slightly sick. Hermione felt her own face burning from humiliation.

"...we can only hope that Harry Potter will be able to pick up the pieces of his broken heart," Snape finished, sneering nastily. Pansy was doubled over at this point, gasping for air. Hermione couldn't bring herself to look at anyone else.

Snape rolled up the magazine. "Well, I hadn't realised what a distraction your sordid love lives would be to your work in the classroom. I think I had best separate you three for the remainder of the term, yes? We wouldn't want Mister Weasley here to get tangled up in this, too. Weasley, move over beside Miss Parkinson." Ron also looked furious now. "Miss Granger, over there, beside Mister Malfoy. It seems he has already proven himself immune to your salacious wiles." That wiped the smirk off of Pansy's face. "You stay here, Potter. You can thank me later for being sensitive to your healing heart."

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again after one look at Snape's curling lip. Hermione gathered her supplies into her cauldron and threw her bag over her shoulder, lugging everything over to Malfoy's table. On the way, Theo gave her a sympathetic look. Zabini sitting next to him looked utterly bored.

She banged her cauldron on the table at the empty seat that had her between Malfoy and Crabbe. Crabbe jeered in disgust as she sat down, and Goyle looked around stupidly at Snape, starting to realise her punishment meant he would have to sit with her, too. Malfoy himself studied the table, his jaw tight with some unknown emotion. Hopefully he wasn't angry with her for having his name dragged into the article alongside hers, no matter how cleanly he'd seemed to get away from it.

Hermione found it difficult to concentrate on her potion after Snape's dramatic monologue, but also thanks to a constant stream of verbal harassment from Crabbe, which Snape affected not to notice over the noise of bubbling cauldrons.

"Hey Mudblood," Crabbe taunted, "been whipping up Love Potions have you?" Hermione gave him a flat look while stirring her cauldron.

A few minutes later—

"Mudblood, why don't you make yourself useful and grind this root up for me?" Crabbe suggested mockingly. She ignored him, adding pulverised Vervain slowly into her mixture.

"Think you're better than me with your nose in the air, Mudblood? You're practically a Muggle," Crabbe said nastily, looking around at Goyle and Malfoy for approval. Goyle gave a grunt of laughter after a few seconds. Malfoy didn't look up and began muttering under his breath.

And finally, "You know, Mudblood, I'm not a Sacred Twenty-Eight or nothin' like Draco over here, but I'm a pureblood and I'm not bad off," Crabbe began, leering at her. The hand on her silver knife began shaking in anger. "Sounds to me like your type. As long as you remember you're scum, I'd give you a romp to remember."

Malfoy's pestle thunked on the table.

"Will you shut your gob, Crabbe?" he said angrily, eyes flashing. Everyone at the table looked at him. Malfoy stared murder at a confused-looking Crabbe, then blinked once, seemingly coming back to himself.

"I can't concentrate with your yapping," he finished lamely. Hermione shot him a grateful look, but Malfoy just tightened his mouth and looked back down at his potion.

Crabbe thankfully remained silent after that, and Hermione was able to pull off a passable potion. Apparently Pansy had been heckling Ron, too, for he flicked a Stink Pellet into her potion just before the end of class, which was unfortunately caught by Professor Snape.

"Detention, Weasley. Tonight. Be at my office at six o'clock sharp," Snape said coldly. Given that it was already past five, Ron would have to hurry if he wanted to eat tonight at all.

To top off the day, Cho saw Harry leaving dinner with Hermione and gave Harry the cold shoulder.

"Does she really believe that article?" Hermione asked incredulously, peeking back into the Great Hall to watch Cho storm off.

"I dunno," Harry said dejectedly. "She was pretty upset that I had to leave for that meeting with Sirius in Hogsmeade last weekend, too. Said she hardly gets a break from studying for O.W.L.s and wouldn't I want to spend it with her. I couldn't very well tell her about Sirius, so I may have said that you made me promise to meet you…"

"Oh, Harry…" Hermione sighed.

Ron came back from detention that evening covered in slime. Snape had made him pickle rat brains for the last four hours, and his mood reflected it. Hermione showed him the same Scouring Charm she'd once shown Neville for a similar purpose.

"Hermione… did Krum really say those things to you? The ones Skeeter quoted in her article?" Ron asked when he'd finished scouring mashed brains from under his fingernails.

Hermione looked at him then. He seemed… resigned.

"Um… yeah, Ron. He did. We had lunch at the Three Broomsticks, and he asked about visiting Bulgaria… I'm not really sure how my parents would feel about that, though. I'm not sure how I feel about it, to be honest. It seems unlikely to happen with his Quidditch schedule anyway."

Ron nodded slowly as she spoke. "Okay."

Hermione abruptly remembered what had been bothering her earlier. "How could she have known all that, though?" she questioned, thinking aloud. "Skeeter wasn't anywhere near the pub that day. I would have noticed her sitting close enough to hear us."

"I didn't see her either," Harry chimed in. "Maybe she's got you bugged."

Harry then had to explain the concept of hidden recording equipment at Ron's openly confused expression.

"I don't know, Harry, those things wouldn't work around Hogwarts," Hermione said. "Too much magic in the air. I really doubt they would work in an entirely magical village, either."

"Maybe she's got an invisibility cloak, then?" Ron suggested, then shook his head, refuting his own idea. "Nah. Seems unlikely with how hard those are to find."

Nobody had anything to say after that, and they fell silent for a while around the common room fire, each lost in their own thoughts. Hermione chewed the inside of her cheek, thinking of ways Rita Skeeter could have listened in on her private conversation with Viktor. And how Rita somehow knew she would be in Hogsmeade in the first place. Hermione ultimately decided to tackle the problem another day, stowing the information away for future contemplation. She had enough problems because of Rita Skeeter right now without adding another one.

After a time, Harry gave a short laugh. "You know, Rita must be losing her touch. I dunno where she got that bit about Malfoy. That on its own could pretty much discredit the entire article for anyone who actually knows you and Malfoy."

Hermione managed a weak laugh. "I suppose."

Hermione began packing up her first attempts at knitting that had lain forgotten since Ron returned to the common room. She had purchased several skeins of yarn, a pair of knitting needles, and an instructional booklet in Hogsmeade when she was with Viktor, and planned to try making socks for Dobby and Winky (Dobby loved socks in particular). As Hermione, Harry, and Ron spent the remainder of the weekend hiding out in the common room trying to avoid the worst of the backlash from Rita Skeeter's most recent article, she was given plenty of time to practise.