Hermione
.
Miss Granger,
I confirm my attendance at the Three Broomsticks on the 14th of February, although I don't suppose I'll have much choice.
I don't know what game you're playing, but I'd advise you to be careful. I could crush you and your reputation like a mosquito under my heel. If you continue to use such stratagems, you risk burning your wings. But I must admit, I'm curious to know what you have to offer me, and I recognise that you have some nerve. I have my doubts about your choice of Sorting Hat, the noble House of Slytherin suits you much better.
See you soon, unfortunately.
Rita Skeeter, Journalist for the Witches' Prophet, Editor-in-Chief of Witch Weekly, Author, Astrology Reporter, and so many other titles.
.
.
.
.
It took another week for Theo and Hermione to break down the formula Vector had given them. It was a Thursday evening, the candlelight flickering on the Library table, snowflakes falling behind the large windows, and there were no other students in the room except for her and Theo. A few books flew overhead to be put away, Madam Pince was no longer behind her desk, and there was a strange, wintry atmosphere that made Hermione want to doze off.
"So, if I understand correctly..." Theo said, his head bent over the parchment Vector had given them the week before, which was now indecipherable due to the combined handwriting, runes and Arithmantic diagrams all around it. "To connect a heartbeat to a wand, we had to use Spells, Transfiguration, Rune Studies and Arithmancy."
He let out a deep sigh. When he lifted his head, his curls were all tousled. He looked at Hermione with sullen eyes.
"We're almost there." Hermione said, even though it was the tenth time she'd said it tonight. "And if you've had enough, you can leave, I wouldn't blame you..."
"That's completely out of the question." Theo cut in, looking offended. "I'm not leaving this Library until your wand is connected to Potter's heart. Try again."
Hermione picked up her wand and cast Pulsatio Reprehendo in Theo's direction. She couldn't count the number of times she'd done it in the last few days, but the sensation of feeling his heart beat against her wand was still as exhilarating as ever. She waited a few seconds, then slowly turned her wand towards herself as she chanted:
"Laguz, Wunjo, Gebo, Tiwaz..."
"Wait." Theo interrupted. "Why are you using Tiwaz?"
Hermione blinked and focused on the boy in front of him:
"For the longevity of the spell." she explained.
Theo frowned under his thick hair and picked up the Rune Alphabet textbook that lay under a stack of open manuals. Hermione could feel the spell fading on her fingers. She waited in silence for Theo to find what he was looking for. When he reached the right page, he ran his finger over the various runes, stopping at the one for Tiwaz.
"Tiwaz is the rune of perseverance, not longevity." Theo countered. "You've got them mixed up. For longevity it's Jera."
Hermione felt her own heart twitch.
"Are you sure?" she asked quietly.
"Sure." Theo said. His eyes sparkled. "Go on, do it again."
"Laguz, Wunjo, Gebo, Jera, Ansuz, Eiwaz, Uruz."
Something happened then, but Hermione could not put her finger on what it was. She could still feel Theo's heart beating against her wand, faster than before, and she felt as if her hand was warmer, as though her blood had suddenly warmed.
They waited in silence for long seconds, on the alert. Hermione waited for the spell to wear off, as it had for days, but the pulsations didn't diminish; on the contrary, they accelerated as the seconds passed.
Realising they had succeeded, she raised her head and met Theo's gaze.
"Oh my God." she whispered.
Theo had a much louder reaction: he jumped to his feet and shouted:
"FUCK! HERMIONE, YOU DID IT!"
Hermione followed him, and they impulsively embraced, half jumping. She was still holding her wand and her heartbeat was strong against his palm. They spun around like children, holding each other at arm's length:
"You're a genius! A genius!" Theo shouted at the top of his lungs.
"You're a genius!" corrected Hermione, over-excited. "You're the one who did it all, you managed to break the spell, and you found the right runes..."
"And what about you!" cut in Theo. "You integrated the transfiguration formulas, you translated the runes, you deciphered every arithmetic table... Merlin, Hermione, we did it!"
They began to dance with the same euphoria, but Madam Pince's shrill voice behind Theo's back stopped them in their tracks:
"What kind of behaviour is this?!" she bellowed, fists on hips and glasses perilously perched on the end of her long nose. "Five points off each! And tone it down right now, or I'll ground you from the Library for the rest of the week!"
"Sorry, Madam Pince." Hermione apologised immediately, taking the threat of exclusion very seriously. "We won't do it again."
The librarian looked at them for a second, then returned to her dusty shelves. Theo and Hermione sat back down calmly, their excitement far from subsiding. In a moment of nostalgia, Hermione wondered if this wasn't what Lupin had wanted to talk to her about in Grimmauld Square, when he'd told her of the Marauders' joy at having succeeded in creating the Map. She felt as if she'd solved a very complicated puzzle, and regained a dose of energy that had been sorely lacking just a few minutes ago.
"Miss. Hermione Granger, congratulations." Theo said with a big smile on his face. He held out his hand and she shook it cheerfully. "You have officially just created a spell."
"So have you, Mr Theo." she replied with a chuckle. "I congratulate you on your ingenuity and impeccable knowledge."
Theo pretended to curtsy and Hermione burst out laughing, careful not to do it too loudly so as not to annoy Madam Pince. Her wand continued to pulse at a frantic rate, probably because Theo had suddenly become agitated, but if her runic modelling was correct, when his heart returned to a normal frequency, the pulsations would fade.
"Now, all you have to do is replace the spell and point to Potter." Theo instructed.
He put down his textbooks and Hermione looked at him, startled to see how much he looked like her at that moment. Draco said it all the time, but she had rarely felt so much resemblance to anyone as she did at that moment, convinced that no one but she could feel so much joy at having performed such a complex act of magic. Anyone would have given up when they saw the amount of work involved. Harry would have stopped when he saw the runes, Ginny would have gotten tired, Ron wouldn't have even bothered to open a book. She and Theo shared the same fascination with this kind of research, and it was almost more gratifying to see him as happy as she was that the spell had worked.
"Thank you, Theo." Hermione said, hoping her voice conveyed her gratitude.
He looked up at her, his hair dishevelled and fatigue etched into his features.
"Oh, Hermione. Thank you, for trusting me." he replied with a small, shy smile. "You know, it's probably not much compared to what you've done, the three of you, but... I'm glad I could help, even if it was in a small way."
Hermione was so touched by these words that she almost wanted to cry.
"It's not small." she promised. "You've helped me a lot, and you've helped Harry."
Draco would have cringed at such a remark, but Theo smiled as if it was the best news of his day. When he was like that, innocent, admiring, in awe, Hermione wondered how he'd ended up in this cunning house where popularity took precedence over human qualities.
"It warms my heart to know that I had a hand in his success." Theo said.
Suddenly Hermione's stomach tightened in fear. Rita Skeeter's letter seemed to weigh a hundred pounds in her pocket all of a sudden. Her cheeks began to burn, and she was pretty sure that if she started talking, she wouldn't be able to put two words together, but now was the time, wasn't it? She had to tell him. She couldn't go to this interview without talking to Theo first.
But how? How could she broach the subject?
Hermione pulled herself together and took a deep breath. She placed her wand on the table and thought of a way to broach the subject without seeming insensitive. Theo was still methodically arranging the textbooks they had placed on the table.
"Theo?" Hermione called in a shy voice.
"Hmm?"
He hadn't noticed her discomfort, he was concentrating on his task, and Hermione couldn't blame him, she was pretty sure she placed the same importance on putting the books away as he did.
"You know there's that... outing to Hogsmeade on the 14th of February, that... that Sunday..." she began hesitantly.
"Yes..."
"And I wanted to know... well, I wanted to tell you, rather warn you, of course, if you don't want to talk about it, I won't, but..."
Theo lifted his blue eyes to her teasingly.
"Are you seriously asking me out on a date, Miss Granger?" he asked with a false air of indignation. "Because I don't think a certain blondie would be too happy at the prospect, and I value my pretty nose."
"No!" cried Hermione, probably blushing. "No, God, no, nothing like that..."
"Ouch! Am I that horrible?"
Hermione closed her mouth and looked at the boy in front of her. He didn't look like her at all now; he was the spitting image of Draco, with his sneering grin and mischievous look.
Maybe he did belong in Slytherin after all.
"You're charming, but I'm not planning on asking you out this weekend." Hermione continued soberly. Theo pout a little, which might have made her laugh if she hadn't been so stressed. "Actually, I wanted to ask you something... to help Harry."
Her hands were clammy against the wood of the table: the emotional rollercoaster between the joy of having finally succeeded in casting the spell and the apprehension of talking to him about such a subject had been dizzying. Theo immediately regained his composure when he saw her distress.
"Of course, Hermione, ask me."
He sounded so honest. Hermione was almost embarrassed to ask him for such a favour after he'd been helping her for weeks.
"Er, well..." she began coyly. "You know... Rita Skeeter?"
She saw the confusion spread across poor Theo's face.
"The journalist?" he asked uncomprehendingly. "Yes, Pansy loves her. What's she got to do with Potter?"
"It's a bit complicated." Hermione said.
"We just created a spell from scratch, translating Latin runes and incantations with Arithmancy tables and Transfiguration formulas." Theo summarised cynically. "I think I can keep up."
"Very well then... Rita Skeeter... owes me a favour." Hermione explained awkwardly.
Theo frowned:
"She owes you a favour?" he repeated. "Rita Skeeter, the journalist, owes you a favour?"
"Yes." Hermione said. "It's sort of... because of me that she doesn't write anymore."
Theo's eyes widened suddenly, going from confusion to surprise in a second.
"I'm sorry?"
"I threatened to report her to the Ministry of Magic if she kept writing those bloody articles about Harry." Hermione said, feeling as if the main conversation was slipping through her fingers.
"That's not a favour, that's blackmail." Theo pointed out, his mouth agape. "How could you snitch on a woman like that?"
"Parkinson didn't tell you her secret?"
Theo shook his head.
"She's an unlisted Animagus." Hermione said bluntly.
This time Theo was practically lying on the table in shock.
"WHAT? An Animagus?" he repeated, stunned. "And you blackmailed her into stopping writing by threatening to expose this to the Ministry?!"
Seeing his reaction, Hermione decided to leave out the part about locking her in a jar and taking her back to London by force. She nodded, and Theo looked at her as if she'd just spoken to him in Parseltongue.
"Does Draco know about this?" he asked in a slightly frightened whisper.
"Yes, of course he does. So do Harry and Ron, which is precisely why I needed your help."
Hermione could see he was shaken, but Theo nodded anyway.
"I think you've noticed that not many people believe Harry about You-Know-Who coming back." Hermione said with some bitterness.
Hearing this, Theo's face darkened.
"I told you, people who don't believe it are fools." he cut sharply. "They'd rather live in denial than act, and they follow others to comfort themselves in their perfect world where there's no war."
"Exactly." agreed Hermione. "I agree with you, and if it were up to me, I wouldn't try to convince them either. But... Harry's suffering. A lot." she added in a distraught tone. "He places an enormous amount of importance on people's opinion of him, and I totally understand that, after all he's been through. He'd like the support he deserves."
"Yes, of course." says Theo. "I'd be in the same frame of mind if I were him."
Hermione was still amazed to hear so much support for Harry Potter from a Slytherin. If only Harry could see past prejudice, he'd find a great ally in Theo.
"So, I've asked Skeeter to come to Hogsmeade this weekend so Harry can tell her what happened, really, that night." she continued. "She'll relate the facts accurately without changing anything, and publish the article, so the whole world can know the truth."
"That's an excellent idea." agreed Theo. "Potter's damn brave to do that." His eyebrows lowered gently. "But... I don't quite understand, how can I help you in this?"
"Well..."
Hermione rubbed her palms against her cloak, her cheeks burning. She didn't dare meet the oh-so-pure eyes of the boy in front of her, who had spent entire evenings with the sole aim of helping her without getting anything in return. She didn't dare evoke the terrible memory of his father and see his expression crack with pain.
But she didn't need to, because Theo understood, and closed his eyes with difficulty.
"Oh." he breathed. "If Potter tells all the events of that night... he's going to talk about my father, isn't he?"
At that moment, Hermione wished more than ever that she'd held her Apparition permit and flown away as quickly as possible. The atmosphere became brutally heavy. Against the table, Hermione's wand vibrated slightly as she picked up the boisterous rhythm of Theo's heart.
"Yes." whispered Hermione after a minute's silence. "I'd like him to name all the Death Eaters who were present that evening."
Theo opened his eyes again, and Hermione thought they were brighter than before, as if he was holding back tears.
"But if you like, I can ask him not to mention yours." she hastened to say. "He can keep that name quiet, he'll understand..."
"No." Theo cut in. "No, you're right. He has to tell the truth, and the truth is that my father was there that night. Potter has to mention him. He deserves to be in Azkaban, the thought that he could still be free makes me sick."
"I'm sorry to have to ask you such a thing." Hermione said quietly.
"So am I." said Theo. "But it's for a good cause. How selfish would I be if I wanted to keep my dignity when Potter has been through unimaginable horrors and can finally stand by his word?"
Hermione rested her hand on Theo's clenched fist on the table in gratitude. He placed his other palm on it, it was warm and strangely familiar.
"Thanks for telling me, you didn't have to." he said with a pale smile.
"I wouldn't have done the interview without warning you first." Hermione replied.
He patted the back of her hand as if to reassure her, when it was quite the opposite. When Hermione moved her hand along the table again, Theo's concern had returned:
"Hermione, I know you're brilliant, and Potter is fucking brave, but I have to warn you... you're entering a world far beyond yourself. These people aren't just dangerous, they're bloody insane. They have no mercy, they've been indoctrinated by a man they see as their saviour, they'll do anything to please him. If Potter wants to turn them in, he's right, but..." Theo's face twisted into a grimace, as if haunted by unpleasant memories. "It frightens me, for you, for both of you. You're risking a lot, and I don't want the things that keep me awake at night to happen to you."
He ran a hand through his curls, looking pleading.
"I've been risking a lot since the day I became friends with Harry." Hermione said firmly. "I said I'd do anything to protect him, and I'll keep my word. So will Ron. We'll protect Harry no matter what it takes, even if it means putting ourselves in danger."
Theo obviously didn't agree.
"What does Draco think?" he asked.
Hermione took a moment to consider her answer.
"He doesn't like the idea." she said finally. "He doesn't think Harry's worth it. He wants to protect me."
"I'm sorry Hermione, but I'm kind of on his side." Theo said sheepishly. "You're by far the bravest person I know, but I'm afraid you don't realise the horrors that await you out there."
A shudder ran through him and Hermione wanted to take away all his traumas, leaving only the precious Theo she knew.
"What would you do if you were me, and it was one of your friends instead of Harry?"
As soon as she asked this question, Theo's expression changed completely. It was strange to recognise Draco in every one of his mimics, probably imitated because they spent all their time together, but to see their reactions differ so much. Where Draco would have immediately claimed that it wasn't the same, that their friendships weren't equal, Theo really thought about the alternative.
"I'd do anything to protect them, too." he confided. "I'd do anything for them. But I find it hard to imagine them reacting the way Potter does, exposing themselves even more, rushing headlong into it. They'd step aside. I suppose that's why we're divided into Houses, we don't have the same nature."
Hermione thought long and hard about his words, which were extremely apt.
"Hermione... you're my friend." Theo continued. "One of the dearest, in fact, because I don't have many, and every one of my friendships is very precious to me. On top of that, my best friend loves you, a truth I still find hard to digest, by the way..." Hermione felt her blush rise, as it did every time someone mentioned Draco in this context. "... and I couldn't bear to see him destroyed if anything happened to you. I'm worried about you."
"My name won't be in the article." she said to reassure him. "I'm just arranging the meeting so Harry can talk, because I know he desperately needs to."
Tho nodded, the answer obviously soothing.
"I'm actually more worried about you." she added. "Harry's going to talk about your father, and when the students find out about the article, they're going to come after you..."
Theo waved his hand to stop her, as if this possibility didn't frighten him at all:
"I remind you that my best friend is Blaise Zabini." said Theo, who had regained his smile. "If anyone dares to make the slightest comment about me, they'll suffer reprisals. No problem with that."
Hermione nodded, smiling. She loved hearing that kind of comment about their close group of friends.
"On the other hand, if I could ask you something..." asked Theo.
"Anything." Hermione said immediately. She still felt terrible about mentioning his family and wanted to help him in return.
He locked his eyes with hers to formulate his request:
"Have Skeeter rewrite, please." Theo demanded without hesitation. "Pansy adores her, she looks at the Prophet every day hoping to see her name again, and I can see her disappointment when she sees she still hasn't returned. I know they're rubbish articles, but... she's very fond of them."
Hermione didn't particularly like Parkinson, and she had no desire to see Skeeter's name appearing again under dubious newspaper headlines, but she nodded anyway, because it was Theo.
"All right, I'll see what I can do."
"Thanks. Let me know how the interview goes."
He stuffed his latest textbook into his bag. Hermione got up to put away the Runes books they'd taken from the shelves. On her way back, she passed through the Potions wing and borrowed several inventories. When she returned to the table, Theo was waiting for her with his bag slung over his shoulder.
"Why do you need all these Potions books?" he asked when he saw the stack in her arms.
"Because of Draco." she explained.
It was always so strange to talk about him like that, so openly. For Theo too, apparently, because he almost gasped:
"Merlin, I'll never get used to hearing you call him by his first name." he murmured.
"He told me about a potion I don't know, and I can't find anything about it..."
"Amortentia?" Theo asked with a smile.
Hermione abruptly glanced up at him in surprise:
"Yes! How do you know?"
Theo wiggled his eyebrows for any answer, as if he had a secret and took great pleasure in keeping it to himself.
"Oh, stop it! Tell me what it is!"
"Sorry Hermione, can't help you there." Theo said in a knowing tone. "You're going to have to find out for yourself." Hermione gave a small, irritated sigh. "And by the way, speaking of Potions..." He reached into his cloak pocket and pulled out a small vial with muddy contents. "We can't be late for the meeting. Do you have a hair?"
A few months ago, Hermione would never have thought she'd hear that question from Theodore Nott, but that night, she nodded naturally:
"Yes, Alicia Spinnet's. I took it off Ginny's Quidditch uniform after she practised with her the other day. Alicia warned me she wouldn't be able to make it because she had her Advanced Astronomy Club, but Harry and Ron don't know about that."
So, she and Theo made their way to the seventh floor toilets so Theo could take his potion fix. He dropped the long brown hair into the vial, then blocked his breath and swallowed it all in one gulp.
"Yuck!" he spat when he'd finished his mouthful. "This stuff is really nasty."
As he spoke, his face changed more and more. His eyebrows thickened, his hair stiffened and lengthened, his nose grew.
The more he changed, the more Hermione became suspicious. She didn't recognise Alicia Spinnet at all. Alicia had long brown hair, fine lines, she was tall and slim. It wasn't until Theo's transformation was complete that Hermione finally realised her mistake and let out a small cry of bewilderment.
"What, what, what?" cried Theo in panic at seeing her react like that.
"My God, Theo, that wasn't Alicia's hair!" cried Hermione. "You're Michael Corner!"
He turned to catch a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the broken mirror above the sink.
"Oh." he said simply.
"What a disaster!" said Hermione, catching her hair in her fists. An impressive number of disastrous scenarios flashed through her mind, and panic quickly set in.
"I take it he's scheduled for tonight?" asked Michael in Theo's voice, which was as unnerving as ever.
"Yes, but he's mostly Ginny's boyfriend!" said Hermione, distraught.
"Hm, I see..." said Theo, still staring thoughtfully at his reflection. He was so calm compared to Hermione it was almost comical. "Do you think it would be weird? I mean, it's not like they're kissing languorously every session... I didn't even realise they were a couple until you told me."
"No, I don't think so..." Hermione said, biting her lip compulsively in anguish. "And I'd hate to waste a dose of Polyjuice Potion, God knows it takes a long time to prepare... Maybe I can ask Ginny to practice with me today, so you can be with another Ravenclaw and not have to talk so much?"
She tried desperately to silence the disastrous thoughts that came with the suggestion.
"Good idea, but how are we going to stop the real Michael from coming?" asked Theo, finally turning to her.
Hermione pursed her lips and looked at her watch: there were only five minutes left before the meeting started.
"Wait here, I'll see what I can do."
She hurried out and walked backwards down the corridor. The seventh floor was pretty much empty. Hermione approached the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and waited for the real Michael.
She passed several members of the D.A. who had arrived separately to avoid being spotted by Umbridge, including Ginny and Luna.
Michael arrived from the stairs a few seconds later, a little out of breath. The resemblance to the Michael Theo embodied was perfect, so much so that it was frightening. She had just left him and he reappeared, unaware that his double was waiting for her to return to the bathroom.
"Hey Michael!" Hermione greeted him with a polite smile, ignoring the anxious beating of her heart. "Where are you headed?"
"Hi Hermione." Michael replied. "I'm going to the DA's meeting, aren't you?"
Hermione pretended not to understand, hoping her surprise would be convincing.
"What meeting?"
"The one scheduled for tonight." he replied, confused. He took out the coin Hermione had made for him and showed it to her: "See? Thursday 11th February, 8:30 pm."
Hermione took the coin and read the inscription, her eyebrows furrowed in mock disbelief.
"That doesn't make any sense, the next meeting is next week, Tuesday 16th February at 8.30! I wrote it down myself!"
"Does that mean there is no meeting tonight?" asked Michael, who seemed delighted at the prospect.
"No, not that I know of." Hermione said with a shrug. "I'll fix your coin for you, there must be something wrong with it."
"I confess it's no shame, I've got a lot to do tonight." Michael admitted. "Thanks for the warning, Hermione!"
And off he went in the opposite direction. She'd never thought it would be so easy. She tucked the perfectly good coin away in her pocket and went to find Theo in the bathroom. He was waiting anxiously by a stall.
"Well?" he asked when he saw her enter.
"All clear." Hermione said, amazed herself at the ease of her plan. There were still two minutes before the meeting began.
"Don't tell me poor Michael Corner is gagged somewhere in this Castle?" begged Theo, half seriously, half jokingly.
"No, I kindly sent him back to his Common Room, telling him he'd got the date wrong." Hermione said. Then she added, "But if it makes you feel any better, you should know that I did gag someone in a broom cupboard in second year."
Theo half choked on his own saliva and looked at her with round eyes:
"Why should that make me feel better?!"
"Because it was Crabbe and Goyle." Hermione admitted mischievously.
A broad sadistic grin stretched across Theo's face:
"Oh, you know how to make me happy." he murmured. "Let's go, and then, you'll have to tell me this story in detail."
Hermione cast the voice-changing spell on him, then Theo, Michael, and she walked together to the front of the Room of Requirement. She watched Michael pacing back and forth in front of the door with a look of nervousness probably imprinted on her face.
"Theo..." Hermione whispered. "I'm not as sure as I have been the last few times. Something's going to go wrong, I can feel it."
Michael barely raised his head, sending a strand of hair across his face, making its true owner wince.
"That's because it wasn't what you planned and it all happened too fast, but I assure you, no one will notice. I won't speak once all evening, and I'll try to be noticed by as few people as possible. And if Michael finds out there was a meeting tonight, you'll just have to tell him that his coin actually worked and it was yours that was broken."
Hermione nodded, quite convinced by his words, and the door opened on its third pacing back and forth.
A few students were already scattered around Harry, chatting happily. In addition to being a place to learn defence, the Room of Requirement had gradually become a meeting place. With Umbridge on the prowl, the increasing number of decrees and the heavy atmosphere that had hung over the Castle for some time, Hermione had noticed that some students needed these moments of gathering, as if they were finally free to say what they wanted.
The hearth was crackling pleasantly. Michael moved away from Hermione and approached the fire. Ginny didn't even see him come in; she was talking to Luna.
"Is everyone here?" asked Harry, turning to the small group gathered in front of him. "Very well, we can begin... Today, we're going to look at the Stunning spell. It's a spell that can be very useful during a fight, but it's very difficult to place. There's nothing worse than a badly placed Stupefy. Pair up, and I'll demonstrate with Ron."
"Really?" asked Ron in a squeaky voice.
"Come on Ron, it'll clear your head." sneered George.
Ron glared at him and moved to Harry's left, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there. Harry went through the gesture again, then stood a few steps away from Ron and both of them waved their wands at the same time:
"Ready? 1, 2..."
The two spells went off at the same time, bouncing between them and knocking the two boys backwards a few metres. The intensity of the spells was lessened considerably by the impact, so neither was knocked unconscious. Ron massaged his head with a grunt.
"Splendid!" shouted Fred, applauding. "Again, again!"
"No. Your turn." Harry said, struggling to sit up.
Hermione searched her eyes for Ginny, but she had teamed up with Luna. Dean and Ron got together and Hermione approached Neville, who happily accepted. Theo had teamed up with Terry Boot, a good strategic choice as Terry rarely spoke.
Hermione tried her best not to knock poor Neville out too hard, but she could barely contain her magic and kept sending him waltzing through the air. He then tried his hand at her, too timidly at first, then with a little more force. By the end of the session, he even managed to stun her a little, which was a very promising start.
"Thank you all, that's it for today." Harry called out after an hour. "Don't forget to return to your Common Rooms, two at a time, and I'll see you next week!"
Hermione left the room shortly after Michael and followed him discreetly to the seventh floor toilets. She checked to make sure no one else was in the corridor and enter just after him.
"I can't believe we did it." she admitted when he turned to her, smiling. "It was so risky!"
"But it turned out well!" Theo said. "I told you no one would..."
Suddenly, the bathroom door flew open, startling Hermione and Michael.
Ginny stood in the doorway, staring suspiciously at the two people in front of her. All the blood in Hermione's head rushed to her head.
"Ginny!" cried Hermione. "That's not..."
But before Hermione could explain the situation, Ginny crossed the small room in three strides, threw herself at Michael, and kissed him with all her might.
The shock of her body against his sent him stumbling backwards, and he barely caught himself on the sink behind him, completely in shock. Ginny kissed him full on the lips, both hands on his neck. Hermione wanted to scream, but realised she no longer had a voice: her mouth opened without making the slightest sound.
She felt like the kiss lasted twenty minutes. When Ginny finally pulled her face away from Michael, Theo, was all red, and his lips had taken on the colour of Ginny's pink lipstick. He looked at her like she was a ghost, not even noticing that his hair was already returning to its curly form.
Hermione was leaning against the wall of one of the cubicles, one hand over her heart, the other pulling at her hair. Of all the disastrous scenarios she'd imagined before leaving this room, this hadn't even crossed her mind. Theo's face was changing and she had no idea how to explain to Ginny what they had done. She tried to think of something to say, anything, but her mind was blank.
Theo's heartbeat pounded in the wand in her pocket. For a second, the toilet fell into dead silence. Theo slowly regained his appearance and was still staring at Ginny, mouth half open, eyes wide in horror.
But then, Ginny did something Hermione hadn't expected: she brushed her long red hair out of her face and gave Theo a big smile:
"I knew it." she said with a smile. "You're a much better kisser than Michael, Theodore Nott."
She turned and walked out of the room as quickly as she had come in, without so much as a glance at Hermione. As the door closed behind her, Theo took a deep, panicked breath and turned to cough into the sink. Hermione was still sprawled against the cabinet, unable to process what had just happened. She felt like her heart was going to explode in her chest.
"Merlin, I kissed Ginny Weasley!" said Theo, his voice shaking. "I kissed Ginny Weasley! I kissed a girl! Fuck!"
He splashed water on himself, and Hermione didn't speak again until he'd splashed his face five times:
"What just happened?" she asked in a small voice.
"Ginny Weasley just kissed me!" Theo repeated, sounding more like he was talking to himself, trying to digest the information. "I can't believe it, I just had my first kiss with Ginny fucking Weasley?"
"She guessed." Hermione said in realisation. "She knew we were using the Polyjuice Potion to get you into the D.A."
"But how?!" he exclaimed. "We were so sneaky!"
"Ginny is the most observant person I know. She must have seen something, she must have recognised you..."
"But I've never spoken to that girl in my life!" protested Theo, completely panicked. "She doesn't even know who I am! If she had any doubts, why didn't she confront me in front of everyone? Why didn't she scream at me for taking the form of her boyfriend? Why the hell did she kiss me? And most of all, how can anyone kiss so well?"
Theo slid against the sink and found himself on the floor, staring into space. His cheeks were flushed. A dreamy smile suddenly appeared on his face:
"That was the best kiss of my life." he concluded.
"You just said it was your first," Hermione pointed out dryly.
"That's just it. No one will ever top it. Do you know how many guys dream of being kissed by Ginny Weasley?" asked Theo. He looked like he'd just taken a dose of love potion, grinning stupidly as he stared at the toilet tiles. He added with a grin: "Damn, Pansy's going to be pissed."
"You won't tell Pansy." Hermione shouted as she approached him. "No one can know about this! You know if Ginny tells anyone, we can go to Azkaban!"
Her breathing suddenly became ragged and she reflexively put a hand to her throat. Theo got to his feet and left his reverie to rush over to her:
"Hey, Hermione, slow down! Nobody's going to Azkaban! We'll talk to Ginny and I'm sure we can work this out amicably, okay?"
"How the hell did we ever think that would work?" asked Hermione, her sentence interrupted by near-sobbing hiccups. She put her cool palms to her eyelids. "Ginny will tell Harry and Ron, and you'll tell Draco and Pansy and Blaise, and everyone will know, and..."
"Hermione. Take a deep breath with me." Theo ordered.
He took her wrists and pulled them away from her face, forcing her to look into his blue eyes. He helped her to calm down, matching her breathing to his. It reminded her of Draco when he'd helped her during her panic attack, and she wondered who had taught the other.
When her respiration returned to normal, Hermione thanked him with a silent nod. The two of them stood face to face, deep in thought, without speaking. The only sound in the room was the dripping of the leaking taps against the stoneware.
"Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to turn me into Michael Corner, all things considered." Theo muttered.
"No," Hermione said in a low voice. "No, indeed."
.
Ginny was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. When she saw them coming, she stood up straight, and Hermione walked beside Theo with the impression that she was going to her own execution.
"Well, if it isn't the evil couple themselves." Ginny gushed, fist on hip and a small smile on her lips.
They stood facing her and Hermione tried to read her expression for the overriding emotion: anger? resentment? betrayal? But there was nothing on Ginny's face, except perhaps a joy that Hermione didn't understand. Theo, on the other hand, looked at her as if she were a Veela.
Hermione wanted to apologise, but the words that came out of her mouth were:
"How did you know?"
Ginny rolled her eyes, still smiling.
"I've told you before, Mione, I'm a very good observer. I knew something was wrong when I saw you talking so much to Lavender Brown. Then, you didn't talk to her at all in front of me, and that behaviour was so unlike you that I started to get suspicious. After that, I noticed you were always looking at someone during meetings, but never the same person."
Ginny was silent for a few seconds, watching the reactions of Hermione and Theo, who were both stunned.
"I suspected you were up to something. Then, tonight, Luna told me that Michael's head was "more riddled with Wrackspurts than usual", and I realised that you'd used Polyjuice Potion to turn Nott."
Theo grimaced:
"Please, call me Theo."
Ginny suddenly held out her hand to him, grinning:
"Ginny Weasley, nice to meet you."
Theo shook her hand.
"Theo. Sorry about impersonating your boyfriend."
"And sorry about the kiss, I wanted to make sure." Ginny echoed.
"No worries, the pleasure was all mine. Hey, what are Wrackspurts?"
"I have no idea." Ginny replied with a shrug. "Luna told me they're creatures that are attracted to over-full brains and go into people's ears to nibble on them."
Theo opened his eyes wide and began to scratch his ear, as if he could suddenly feel the beast against his eardrum.
"Are you mad at me?" Hermione asked Ginny in a low voice.
Ginny shrugged again:
"No. I'm glad I finally understood. You could have told me, I never would have told on you."
Hermione let out a sigh of relief and Ginny frowned:
"How could you think I'd do such a thing?"
"How could I have told you?" asked Hermione. "You would have thought I was crazy."
"I already think you're crazy, Hermione Granger." Ginny remarked. "Did she tell you she'd given Crabbe and Goyle a sleeping pill and asked Harry and Ron to gag them in a broom cupboard so she could take their appearance with Polyjuice Potion?" asked Ginny, looking at Theo.
Theo's eyes were as round as saucers.
"Vaguely." he replied, transfixed. "But I'm going to need you to write it down for me on a parchment so I can sleep with it for the rest of my life."
Ginny burst out laughing, and even Hermione, in a state of agony that defied all competition, felt the corners of her mouth rise.
"Wait, to take on the appearance of Crabbe and Goyle?" repeated Theo, turning to Hermione. "Why would Merlin need you to turn into one of those two idiots?"
"To interrogate Malf..." started Ginny, but Hermione cut her off in a loud voice:
"ALL RIGHT, thank you Ginny, we're going back."
She grabbed her laughing best friend's arm and climbed a few steps. She heard Ginny shout:
"Nice to meet you, Theo!"
She doubled her pace to separate the infernal duo.
.
.
Talking to Luna was the most difficult part of her Skeeter plan. Not because she was against the idea, but for the simple reason that she was nowhere to be found. No matter how hard Hermione looked for her the next day, Luna never showed up. Ginny had told her that she wasn't ill and that she was going to class as usual, but every time Hermione saw the Ravenclaw girls in her year, Luna was missing.
She didn't find her until Saturday afternoon. During her weekly flower collection with Neville, they spotted her walking along the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
"She's really mad." Neville commented, watching her from a distance. "She'll get herself killed."
"There's no dangerous creature this close to the Castle." Hermione said. "She's just walking around."
"Barefoot?" asked Neville with a touch of cynicism.
Hermione didn't comment and they continued picking flowers for the herbarium. A little later she returned to the spot where she'd spotted Luna and found her behind Hagrid's hut, her feet sunk in the mud and wearing only a fluorescent orange flowered vest.
"Hey Luna." Hermione greeted her kindly.
"Oh, Hermione." Luna said, watching her arrival with her bright eyes. "Have you come to feed the Thestrals too?"
Hermione frowned and looked at the empty space in front of her.
"Are they here?" she whispered.
"Yes. There's a baby over there. I'd forgotten you couldn't see them. You can still feed them if you want."
Hermione looked down at the huge steaks of grass and mud and wrinkled her nose in disgust.
"Er... I'll be fine, thanks. Listen, I wanted to ask you something."
"Hmm?"
Luna bent down, picked up a large piece of meat and threw it into the mud. Immediately a piece tore off and Hermione had to summon all her strength not to shrink back in horror.
"You told me last time that you and your father believe what Harry says."
"Of course." the blonde replied in her floating voice.
"I've asked Rita Skeeter to come to Hogsmeade because I'd like her to interview Harry so he can tell his side of the story, the real one." Hermione explained. "And I wanted to know if your father would agree to publish the article in the Quibbler when it's finished."
Luna nodded, staring at one of the creatures invisible to Hermione's eyes.
"My father would be delighted to publish Harry in the Quibbler." she said after several seconds of silence. "After his article on the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, of course."
Hermione nodded and had to bite her lip to stop herself from saying that there was no such creature.
"Thank you Luna, you're a great help." she said instead.
She was about to turn around when Luna's voice interrupted her gesture:
"Well, I'm helping Harry. But what do you have to do with it?"
To anyone else, the question might have seemed hurtful, but Hermione knew Luna wasn't asking it maliciously, just out of curiosity.
"He's my friend." Hermione explained patiently. "I'm helping him, so if you're helping him, you're helping me."
"Hmm. Must be nice to have people you can rely on who are willing to help. I wish I had that." Luna said.
Without a trace of sadness in her voice or expression, she continued to gently feed the Thestrals one by one. Hermione watched this unique girl and felt a burning sorrow for her.
"You're my friend, Luna." Hermione said sincerely. "You can count on me."
"Really?" Luna asked, raising her eyebrows delicately as if the possibility had just occurred to her. "I thought you didn't like me very much."
Hermione winced slightly and turned her head towards the footprints the Thestrals had left in the mud. She wasn't used to Luna's frankness; it was unnerving. She understood better why Harry found some comfort in their conversations, because Luna didn't cloak everything in sweetness and detours to comfort him: she got straight to the point, without trying to spare his feelings.
"It's true, I didn't like you very much at first." Hermione confessed. "But I think we see things differently, and that scared me. Now I like you a lot."
"I like you too, Hermione." Luna said with a little smile that only curled her lip on one side, giving her a very cute childish face. "Can I come with you to Hogsmeade?"
"Of course." said Hermione, who hadn't thought to invite her. "We can go together, Harry will be with Cho, but he'll join us around lunch."
"All right." Luna threw a huge steak into the snow and smiled as she watched the Thestral gobble it up. "Don't feel obliged to stay here with me, I know you've got plenty to do. See you Sunday, Hermione."
"See you Sunday, Luna." Then, unable to restrain herself, she asked her: "Aren't your feet cold?"
"Yes, but someone stole my shoes." Luna replied indifferently.
Hermione took out her wand and cast a warming spell on the mud.
"Here."
"Oh, thank you, Hermione!" sang Luna before returning to her Thestrals.
Hermione turned back and stopped at Hagrid's for a cup of tea. They discussed her syllabus for the Defence and Care of Magical Creatures course, changing a few lessons that Umbridge wouldn't like. Having convinced him that making second years study Erumpent wasn't the best idea of the century, Hagrid gave her a tin of cinnamon biscuits and Hermione returned to the Castle, nibbling them on the way.
That evening she went to the Library with Harry. He was so far behind with his homework that he didn't dare open the planner Hermione had given him for Christmas, supposedly because he had insulted him the last time. They sat down at the large round table he liked so much and each plunged into his work: Harry at Transfiguration and Hermione at Astronomy.
Harry was very different from Hermione's two usual study partners. With Theo, they spent most of their time in silence. The only words they exchanged were questions like "Can I borrow your inkwell?" or "What's the third ingredient in the Shrinking Solution again?" She and Draco talked a lot, much more than they should. Draco spent most of his time reading what she was doing instead of concentrating on his own homework, sometimes teasing her by asking her about the latest lessons and pretending to be outraged when she got an answer wrong.
Harry, on the other hand, was a mixture of the two. He didn't ask her a hundred questions like Ron did, he concentrated on his own, asking her for clarification here and there. Hermione actually enjoyed working with Harry. It reminded her of their long sessions in first and second year, when their only big assignments were who Nicolas Flamel was and how to make Polyjuice Potion.
The chapter he was studying was complicated; she'd struggled with it herself when she'd studied it with Draco three weeks earlier. Harry stayed on the same page for about ten minutes, letting out several long, tired sighs. His chin was practically resting on the pages of the textbook, his eyes fixed on the moving graphics of birds turning into hairbrushes.
About an hour before the Library closed, Draco entered. Hermione raised her head reflexively, as if she could sense his presence near her, as if she'd developed a sense that detected him magnetically. He was already looking at her, his blue eyes burning from across the room. Normally, when he saw her studying with Harry, he would turn on his heels and return to his Common Room. But that evening, he sat down on one of the tables further away and opened his Potions book.
Hermione, who hadn't expected this at all, tried several times to get his attention, but Draco was resolutely reading his book and didn't even raise his head. She finally gave in and tried to study, despite the distraction a few metres away.
She was in the middle of a paragraph on Pluto's natural satellites when she felt something sting her elbow. She then saw, stunned, a blue paper plane poking at her arm. Hermione gave Draco a horrified look, but he was still pretending to read.
She made sure Harry wasn't looking at her and put the paper on top of her notes, hidden by her Astronomy textbook:
I saw you talking to Lovegood earlier.
Hermione was simply shocked at the boy's audacity. She picked up her quill and wrote hastily:
In case you hadn't noticed, I'm with Harry!
The paper reassembled itself and flew silently towards Draco. Hermione returned to her textbook and almost sighed in protest when the plane tapped her elbow again. She unfolded it, making sure Harry couldn't see it:
I noticed, yes. Relax, I'm Neville Longbottom. And I'll have you know your mate is about to fall asleep on the table, you could walk away and he probably wouldn't notice. Why did you speak to Lovegood?
The brunette looked up at her best friend, who was indeed half asleep against his textbook. His glasses slipped from his nose and his head dipped dangerously forward.
Weren't you the one who said public speaking was risky?
She put the paper back and didn't dare turn her head towards him. A few seconds later, he came back:
Yes, that's why I'm writing to you. Answer my question.
Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes as she read his message. She could imagine his voice commanding her.
I asked her about the interview in the Quibbler.
Draco only wrote one word in reply:
And?
She turned the plane upside down to make room to write:
And she said yes.
Hermione had so expected him to write her a long speech about what she was incurring by doing such a thing, talk about her bandaged hands from the previous year because of the hate mail she'd received, or even beg her outright to cancel the interview, that she was very surprised to receive:
You're going to ruin poor Potter's date.
She had to cover her mouth to keep herself from bursting out laughing.
Yes, I suppose I am. But it's for a good cause.
The paper flew to Draco and landed on the table between him and his textbook. They exchanged a look and he smiled when he saw her laughing silently.
Aren't you going to use your peacock feather?
Draco and his brutal subject change. Hermione replied quickly:
No, I only use it with you.
When she turned around, he was already gone.
.
.
.
.
The main street of Hogsmeade was filled with couples strutting past shop windows or kissing in corners. Hermione felt uncomfortable, but Luna beside her didn't care. She watched each person with her pale, bulging eyes as if they were rare magical creatures.
They entered the pub at 11. They found a table for four at the back of the room and waited for Madam Rosmerta to arrive so they could order. Hermione was concentrating on the menu in front of her when Luna asked:
"Why are there only couples here?"
Hermione scanned the pub over her menu and saw that the tables around them were indeed only occupied by couples, either holding hands or drinking from the same glass with two straws.
"Because it's Valentine's Day." Hermione explained. "You haven't heard about it?"
She wondered how that was possible, everyone at Hogwarts had been talking about it for the past week. Hermione had witnessed four declarations of love from enchanted cherubs, including one sent by Fred and George to seduce Umbridge, and her dormitory had been overrun with a dozen boxes of chocolates for Lavender.
"Oh, yes." Luna replied vaguely, looking around with interest. "It's the celebration of love. Is that why Ginny is spending the day with Michael?"
"Yes, that's why." Hermione replied, returning to her menu.
"And Harry with Cho Chang?" asked Luna.
"Er... yes. He invited her to Hogsmeade for their first date."
She watched the reaction of the girl in front of her, but Luna showed no expression. Hermione finally chose a cherry syrup and closed the menu.
"I've never been in love." Luna confided matter-of-factly. "That must be nice. Are you in love?"
Hermione blushed immediately.
"Me? No." she lied.
"Really?" Luna asked with a slight smile. "My dad says that when you're in love you protest, blush and lose your words."
"Not at all, I..." Realising she was protesting, Hermione abruptly stopped speaking, blushed even more, and continued in an incomprehensible stammer: "That's... not true at all, I don't, I mean, I'm not in love with anyone at all, absolutely not..."
She paused a second time. This conversation reminded her of the one she'd had with the Fat Lady, she felt as if Luna was spying on her in the same way as the painted lady and she didn't know what to say to this impromptu interrogation. Luckily, she didn't have to, because Rita Skeeter entered the Three Broomsticks just then.
Hermione found it almost impossible to recognise her. The woman who had spent the previous year taking care of her appearance down to the last strand of her hair was unrecognisable. She was wearing a long black raincoat, her long hair hanging miserably around her face, no longer showing the radiant blondness Hermione knew, but rather a dull wash that accentuated her wrinkles and dark circles. She entered the pub, covering her face with her handbag so as not to be recognised, and sat down opposite Hermione, next to Luna, with her back to the other tables.
Hermione wondered what Pansy Parkinson would think if she saw her idol in this state.
She certainly hadn't expected Skeeter to greet her warmly, but she hadn't anticipated the hateful look she received, nor the first words that came out of her mouth:
"You're paying."
"Good morning to you too." Hermione scoffed.
She remembered Draco and Theo's words of prevention and struggled to apply them to the woman in front of her. She had none of the authoritative, powerful air she'd had at the Tournament; she was a shell of herself now, completely harmless. In fact, she was at Hermione's mercy, which gave her a surge of confidence.
"I don't know how you dare speak to me, let alone order me to come here." Skeeter spat.
She didn't even turn her head towards Luna, pretending the seat next to her was empty. This didn't seem to bother Luna in the least, who continued to stare blankly at everyone in the pub.
"And yet here you are." Hermione said with a small smile.
Rita muttered something and put her bag down on her lap. When Madam Rosmerta arrived to take their order, she didn't hide her surprise at seeing such a strangely mixed table: a well-known journalist in a deplorable state, Luna with her big, questioning blue eyes, and Harry Potter's best friend.
"What can I get you?" asked Rosmerta, looking at each of them in turn.
"I'll have a cherry syrup." Hermione said.
"A Firewhisky." Rita demanded, shielding her eyes unnecessarily, as if she couldn't be recognised without them.
"A Gillyweed soda, please." asked Luna, in a much more polite tone than Skeeter next to her.
"Do you know what I'm risking by coming here?" Rita asked Hermione in a hurried whisper. "In public? I'll have you know it was you who ordered me not to show my face for a year. Everyone thinks I'm in the Bahamas writing a new book!"
"Exactly, that's why I wanted to see you." Hermione said. "I want to make a new deal."
She was struck for a moment by Draco's words, which echoed in her mind as she finished her sentence, "For a year. I could never insult them again for a year. Deal? Careful, Granger. Promises, in the Malfoy household, are sacred. I want your word." She realised how much more like him she was becoming.
The hateful expression suddenly vanished from Skeeter's face, replaced by a look of hope.
"Really? What deal?" she asked breathlessly.
Rosmerta arrived with their drinks and Rita picked up her bag again to hide her face.
"I have a proposition for you." Hermione explained. "I'll let you rewrite, on the condition that your articles don't mention Harry or anyone close to him, and that... and that you continue with your horoscope column."
Rita arched a heavily made-up eyebrow and Hermione felt her blush rise.
"My horoscopes? You're an astrology buff, aren't you?"
"It's not for me, it's for a friend." she gritted her teeth. "So you agree?"
"I don't accept deals until I know all the terms, Miss Perfect." Skeeter replied bitterly. "I want to know what I have to do in return."
"I'll have to wait for Harry to explain."
Rita's suspicious slit eyes lit up when she heard his name.
"Harry? Is he here?"
"Yes, he'll be here, but you'd better keep your Quick-Quotes Quill in check if you want him to stay." Hermione warned sternly.
Skeeter ran her manicured fingers thoughtfully over her crocodile-shell purse.
"You really have the Slytherin streak." she murmured. If Hermione didn't know about Rita's dislike of her, she could almost have thought this was a compliment.
Hermione looked down at her syrup to keep from blushing even more. Luckily, Luna wasn't listening to the conversation next to her. Hermione then spotted a sliver of jet-black hair near the counter, and she raised her arm, calling out:
"Harry! Harry, over here!"
Harry spotted her and walked over. When he was only a few tables away, she saw him frown in disbelief. He plopped down on the bench next to her and Hermione pushed herself up to make room for him:
"You're early!" she said. "I thought you were with Cho, I wasn't expecting you for another hour!"
Harry shook his head, his eyes glued to the two girls in front of him as if trying to decide if he wasn't in the middle of a nightmare.
"Cho?" Rita repeated immediately, turning in her seat to stare hungrily at Harry. "A girl?"
She grabbed her bag and rummaged through it.
"Even if Harry went out with a hundred girls, it wouldn't be any of your business." Hermione blurted out icily.
Skeeter put the quill down and glared at her.
"What are you doing?" asked Harry.
"That's what little Miss Perfect was about to tell me when you arrived." Rita replied, taking a long, noisy sip of her drink. "I suppose I'm allowed to talk to him, am I?" she tossed to Hermione.
"Yes, I suppose you are." Hermione replied coolly.
Rita took another sip of her whisky and asked out of the corner of her mouth:
"Pretty girl, is she, Harry?"
"One more word about Harry's love life and the deal's off and that's a promise." Hermione said in an irritated tone.
"What deal?" asked Rita, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "You didn't mention any deal, Miss Prissy, you just told me to turn up. Oh, one of these days..."
The reporter took a deep breath to contain her anger and Hermione rolled her eyes:
"Yes, yes, one of these days you'll write more horrible stories about Harry and me..." she said dismissively. "Find someone who cares, why don't you?"
"They've run plenty of horrible stories about Harry this year without my help." replied Rita, glancing sideways at Harry. She seemed to take a certain pleasure in titillating him, perhaps in the hope that he would explode with anger and start spouting off material for an upcoming article. "How did you react when you read that, Harry? Did you feel betrayed? Helpless? Misunderstood?" she whispered with envy.
"He's angry, of course." Hermione answered for Harry. "Because he told the Minister of Magic the truth and the Minister is too stupid to believe him."
Rita didn't even turn her head towards her, too busy staring at Harry, leaning more and more over the table:
"So you actually stick to it, do you, that He Who Must Not Be Named is back? You stand by all this garbage Dumbledore's been telling everybody about You-Know-Who returning and you being the sole witness?"
Her fingers ventured covetously to her purse.
"I wasn't the sole witness." snarled Harry. "There were a dozenodd Death Eaters there as well. Want their names?"
"I'd love them." Rita confided under her breath. "A great bold headline: "Potter Accuses ..." A sub-heading, "Harry Potter Names Death Eaters Still Among Us." And then, beneath a nice big photograph of you, "Disturbed teenage survivor of You-Know-Who's attack, Harry Potter, 15, caused outrage yesterday by accusing respectable and prominent members of the wizarding community of being Death Eaters ..."
She had picked up her Quill and was about to press it when her features suddenly sagged. She straightened against the back of her chair.
"But of course..." she said, lowering her voice. "Little Miss Perfect wouldn't want that story out there, would she?'
"Well, actually, it's the opposite of what Little Miss Perfect wants." replied Hermione calmly.
Skeeter and Harry turned to her, their eyes wide with surprise. Luna, meanwhile, distractedly hummed Weasley is Our King and stirred the contents of her glass with her pickled onion stick.
"You want me to report what he says about He Who Must Not Be Named?" asked Skeeter in a choked voice.
"Yes, I do." Hermione replied. "The real story. All the facts. Just as Harry tells it. He'll give you all the details, he'll reveal the names of the undiscovered Death Eaters he saw there, he'll tell you what Voldemort looks like now..."
Rita gasped so hard she spilled half her whisky on her raincoat.
"Oh, please, get a grip on yourself." Hermione said contemptuously. She threw her a towel and Rita wiped herself dry without taking her eyes off her.
"The Prophet will never print this." she blurted. "In case you haven't noticed, nobody believes his cock and bull story. Everyone thinks he's delusional. Now, if you'll just let me write something from this angle..."
"We don't need a new article to say Harry's lost it!" Hermione cut in angrily. "We already have what we need, thank you! I want him to have the chance to tell the truth!"
"There's no audience for a story like that." Rita said.
"You mean the Prophet won't print it because Fudge won't let them." Hermione corrected, annoyed.
Rita gave her a long, hard look. Then she leaned over the table and said in a businesswoman's tone:
"All right, Fudge is leaning on the Prophet, but it comes to the same thing. They won't print a story that shows Harry in a good light. Nobody wants to read it. It's against the public mood. This last Azkaban escape has upset people enough. People just don't want to believe You-Know-Who's back."
"So the Daily Prophet exists to tell people what they want to hear, does it?" Hermione replied scathingly.
Rita sat up with raised eyebrows and drained her glass of Firewhisky.
"The Prophet exists to sell itself, you silly girl."
"My dad thinks it's a terrible paper." Luna said, suddenly joining the conversation. She stared at Rita with her huge, protruding eyes with a slightly crazed look. "He publishes important stories that he thinks the public needs to know. He doesn't care about making money."
Rita turned haughtily to Luna.
"I suppose your father runs a stupid little village newsletter?" she said. "Probably Twenty-Five Ways to Mingle With Muggles and the dates of the next Bring and Fly Sale?"
"No." Luna replied, dipping her onion into her Gillyweed soda. "He's the editor of the Quibbler."
Rita let out a snarl of disdain so loud that the customers at the next table turned around in concern.
"Important stories he thinks the public should know about, eh?" she said witheringly. "I could manure my garden with the contents of that rag."
"Well, this is your chance to raise the tone a bit, isn't it?" Hermione replied in a friendly tone. "Luna says her father is quite happy to take Harry's interview. He's going to publish it."
Rita looked at them both for a moment, then let out a howl of laughter:
"The Quibbler!" she exclaimed, cackling. "And you think people will take it seriously if we publish it in The Quibbler?"
"Some people won't." Hermione admitted evenly. "But the Daily Prophet's version of the Azkaban escape had some gaping holes in it. I think a lot of people will wonder if there isn't a better explanation for what happened, and if there is an alternative story, even if it's published in a..." She gave Luna a sideways glance. "In a, well, unusual magazine, I think they'd be very interested in reading it."
Rita was silent for a long moment, but she watched Hermione shrewdly, her head tilted slightly to one side.
"All right, let's say I do it." she said suddenly, leaning across the table a second time to whisper: "What kind of fee will I get?"
"I don't think my dad really pays people to write for his magazine." Luna replied dreamily. "They do it because it's an honour and they get to see their name in print."
Rita Skeeter looked disgusted:
"I'm supposed to do this for free?" she asked, ignoring Luna.
"Well, yes." Hermione assured her in a very calm tone as she took a sip of her syrup. "Otherwise, as you already know, I'll inform the authorities that you're an undeclared Animagus. At that point, the Prophet might pay you a good price for a live report on the lives of Azkaban's prisoners."
Rita let out a few angry breaths from her nose like a bull.
"I don't suppose I have a choice?" she asked in a slightly shaky voice. She opened her crocodile bag again, took out a piece of parchment and reached for her Quick-Quotes Quill.
"Daddy will be so happy." Luna declared cheerfully.
"Is that all right, Harry?" asked Hermione, turning to him. "Are you ready to tell the public the truth?"
She knew Harry well enough to see a flash of recognition in his eyes.
"I suppose." he replied.
He looked at Rita, whose green quill was already trembling over the piece of parchment.
"Go on then, Rita." Hermione said calmly, fishing a cherry from the bottom of her glass.
It took Harry a while to ignore the Quick-Quotes Quill and Rita's sonorous reactions during his story. He explained everything in detail about his arrival, the Portkey, the graveyard, Wormtail. Hermione had heard his story before, but that didn't stop her from shivering several times. Even Luna, who often drifted off into her daydreams, listened attentively.
Rita proved to be a very good listener. She asked no inappropriate questions and ignored Harry's obvious emotion. When it was time to get to Cedric, he had to stop talking and Rita herself ordered him a Butterbeer to mark a short pause. He didn't dwell long on the deed itself, probably still traumatised by his sudden death. Rita asked him how he'd felt, and Harry struggled to describe the torrent of emotions that had passed through him at that moment, terror being the worst of them all.
"Who else was there, Harry?" asked Rita, her eyes locked with his. Her quill danced on the parchment beside her. "You mentioned Peter Pettigrew and the Dark Lord, but there were other Death Eaters there that night, weren't there?"
Harry took a sip of his Butterbeer, wiped the foam from his lip, took a deep breath and quoted in a lethargic tone: "Lucius Malfoy, Walden Macnair, Crabbe, Goyle, Avery and..."
Harry subtly turned his head to Hermione for permission, she blinked in agreement, and Harry looked back at Rita, all in less than a second. No one but them understood this silent exchange.
"... Nott Sr." he finished.
The Quick-Quotes Quill noted each name carefully.
"Any others?" inquired Skeeter.
"There were others in the graveyard, but I didn't recognise them. He said... the Lestranges were supposed to be there, but they were in Azkaban. He also said they would be rewarded for their loyalty when the prison was opened.
Hermione had the picture of the ten Azkaban escapees that had appeared in the newspaper every day since they'd escaped.
"He said six were missing, among others." Harry related, his face tightening as he tried to remember exactly what he'd seen. "Three are dead, another was too cowardly to come back, and Voldemort said he'd make them pay."
Rita gasped as she heard the name, even though it was the tenth time Harry had said it since his story began.
"Another would have left him for good. Igor Karkaroff." Harry muttered in disgust. "And the last was supposedly his most loyal servant. He worked for his master at Hogwarts to capture me. Barty Crouch Jr, disguised as Moody Mad-Eye for the entire school year."
Harry stopped speaking so that the Quill had time to note this last piece of information.
"And what did they do, these Death Eaters, Harry?" asked Rita breathlessly, caught up in his words.
"They swore allegiance to him in front of me." he replied. "They fell on their faces to make amends. Voldemort said he couldn't forgive them, not for thirteen years of loyal service. They all apologised, begged him to be merciful. Lucius Malfoy said that if he'd had the slightest sign all this time, he would have rushed to his aid."
"Are you sure about that, Harry?" asked Rita, her quill quivering more than ever on the paper. "Lucius Malfoy said this?"
"Yes." Harry confirmed. "Lucius Malfoy himself."
Hermione felt a shiver down her spine, and finished her cherry syrup without a word.
.
Harry's interview lasted an hour and a half. By the end, Rita's scroll was full, all four glasses were empty, and Harry's complexion was noticeably paler, but there was a flame of pride in his eyes that hadn't been there before. Rita shook Harry's hand and promised to send him the finished article before publishing it elsewhere.
To her surprise, Rita shook Hermione's hand as well:
"I'll take the deal. I'll send Harry's article as he told me, and in return I'll come back to the Prophet. What star sign are you, Miss Perfect?"
Hermione blinked, not sure if she'd heard correctly.
"Er... a Virgo?"
"Then I'll include a little comment just for you in my next horoscope, since you want it so badly." Rita said with a wink.
Harry gave her a confused look and Hermione stammered, repeating unnecessarily that it wasn't for her, but for a friend.
Skeeter didn't say goodbye to Luna and ran out of the pub, trying to look as incognito as possible. Luna left too, as she had to go to the pet shop to buy firefly seeds for her father.
Harry then turned to Hermione with a small sigh of satisfaction.
"You've been very brave, Harry." she said gently.
Without answering, he took her in his arms. This was not an insignificant gesture on Harry's part, because he had always been very modest about his displays of affection. He said nothing, but she could almost hear him thanking her for arranging this just by the way his arms held her. Hermione pressed her fingers against his forearm and without a word, they shared one of the most beautiful displays of friendship Hermione had ever experienced.
"I have to get back, I promised Ron I'd be there for his training." Harry said, breaking the embrace, his voice vibrating with emotion. "Are you coming?"
"I have to stop by the tea shop." Hermione said. "See you at dinner?"
Harry nodded and walked out into the rain. Hermione paid for the table and walked out. There was a torrential downpour outside. She ran to her favourite shop, covered herself with her cloak and bought three new tins of cinnamon tea and a chestnut for a change. The whole shop was decorated for Valentine's Day, and an overwhelming smell of roses filled the small room, making her sick.
When she opened the door to leave, a shower of pink confetti fell into her hair and she grunted through her teeth.
She found herself in the main street, deserted because of the rain. Large icy drops fell down her neck and onto her new tea tins. There were three cafés in front of her and she could see the silhouettes of couples kissing.
She tucked the boxes into her pocket and was about to head down the street in the opposite direction to find a carriage to take her back to the Castle when a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. Hermione let out a small cry of panic.
"Hermione, it's me!"
In barely a second, she was thrown backwards between the tea shop and the post office, pinned against Draco's torso. She scrambled away from him and turned to face him, outraged at what he'd just done.
"Draco!" she screamed, before remembering at the last second that it wasn't a very good idea to shout out the name of her supposed enemy in the middle of the street. She put a hand over her mouth. "What are you doing here?!" she asked, her question muffled by her palm.
"I came to see you." he said, as if it were obvious.
His hair was wet from the rain. He wasn't in his uniform, and Hermione loved it when he wasn't, because he looked even better in his everyday clothes. In this case, a black jumper, trousers of the same colour and a long jacket that Hermione was sure must have cost three times her parents' monthly salary.
"You can't meet me here, anyone could see us!" she squealed, looking to her right and left and praying that no pedestrians had stopped at their level.
"Relax, Granger." Draco said in a calm tone. "There's nobody left in the village, everyone's either inside or back at the Castle. You're the only one running down the street with your cloak over your head."
"You're the one telling me to relax? When you've told me countless times that we shouldn't be exposed?"
Draco shrugged, the prospect obviously forgotten.
"You're beautiful." he said suddenly.
Hermione opened and closed her mouth several times, unable to think of anything to say. He really was an expert at sudden changes of subject.
"Um... thank you." she stammered awkwardly. "You're very handsome too."
Draco gave her his unbearable smirk. She was about to scold him again for his spontaneous behaviour when he suddenly grabbed her wrist again:
"Come with me, I'll take you somewhere."
"What? Where?"
"Quiet, we mustn't be seen." he called back, clearly mocking her.
They walked to the end of the alley, which led to a small passageway on the right. Draco rushed in without letting go of her hand and Hermione followed, panicked at the thought of being discovered but also too glad to see him, her head spinning and her heart pounding in her chest.
They reached the end of the alleyway and Draco turned to face her with his timeless grin. He covered his hair with the black hood of his jacket and pulled out his wand in his left hand, his right hand still holding Hermione's behind him.
"Ready?" he asked and Hermione nodded, even though she had no idea what he was going to do.
He ran off, taking Hermione with him. They crossed the few remaining metres of Hogsmeade's main street at full speed. Their feet plunged into the large puddles on the cobbles, splashing loudly, and Hermione, against all odds, burst out laughing. After the last few hours she'd spent dwelling on the horrors Harry had been through, it felt good to get all the pressure off. She giggled loudly, imitated by Draco who laughed along with her, the sound of their laughter mingling with the splashing of puddles. Hermione's hair was puffy from the humidity, heavy on her shoulders, she was hot from running, but she didn't care. For the first time in a long time, she felt free.
They reached the end of the main road, laughing like children, then Draco turned left and slowed his pace.
"Where are you taking me?" she asked breathlessly.
"You'll see." Draco replied mysteriously.
They made their way up the small hill just outside the village. The path was muddy and they had to jump to avoid the large puddles on the ground. By the time they reached the top, they were both out of breath. Draco found a patch of fresh, mud-free grass and led them to it. From here they had a magnificent view of Hogsmeade and were sheltered from the rain by the huge oak tree behind them.
The main street they had just left was flooded with rain, and the shops made little dots of colour all over the place. Hermione found the Three Broomsticks, where wisps of smoke billowed from three biscorn chimneys.
"It's very pretty." Hermione commented, looking at the village before her eyes. "I never realised how small it was."
When she turned to Draco, his cheeks were red from all the running and his hair even more soaked. He smiled at her and Hermione felt her heart pound in her chest.
"Why did you bring me here?" she asked for the third time.
Draco lowered his head to the grass:
"Well, you said you were jealous of Weaslette and Potter because they were entitled to a Valentine's Day date." he explained without preamble. "So... I brought you here to give you one."
With that, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out two large, bright red candy apples wrapped in plastic sachets.
He handed one to her and added:
"Happy Valentine's Day, Hermione."