Rita Skeeter Bites the Bullet

Harry

Tuesday morning was kind to Hogwarts. It gifted the school with a bright, clear expanse as far as the eye could see. Not a single cloud – which was quite unusual for January.

At the Gryffindor table, Draco and Hermione sat. Draco's family owl was nibbling on some bacon but seemed about ready to head out. Draco, on the other hand, had a piece of paper – real paper, from the Muggle world – and was writing a letter with an exorbitantly nice ballpoint pen he'd evidently splurged on.

"Good morning," Harry said as he sat down. Then, to Draco, "That had better be to Rosalie. Your parents will definitely suspect something's up if they receive that."

"It is," Draco said. "I just came over here to tell you that Rosalie has asked for a letter from you." He pulled out of an insanely deep pocket in his robes a folded piece of paper. "She said, I must admit that I've begun hyperfixating on something Harry mentioned in passing while you were here. He mentioned, in speaking about the parchment issue which began this whole issue, that he had had a previous experience with the image of Tom Riddle appearing from a diary. I have begun to wonder if the two cases are linked. I would like you, Draco, to ask Harry to write me as detailed an account as he possibly can and send it to me before I go crazy and begin tearing the walls of my cousin's house apart trying to distract myself from my research."

"Bless her soul," Harry said, and nudged Hermione. "She's worse than you are."

Hermione's lips moved into a smile, but the rest of her face stayed impassive and neutral.

Draco gathered up his items and stood. "Anyway, I'd better go join the Slytherin Table before Umbridge officially places a ban over sitting with other houses."

"Has she said anything?" Harry asked with a frown.

"No," Draco said. "I'm just being cautious."

He left a few sheets of paper there and returned to Slytherin. None of the snakes seemed to notice him approaching from the wrong direction. Mentioning Umbridge reminded Harry that he hadn't yet set the date and time for the next meeting on his fake galleon, so he quickly pulled it out and manoeuvred it underneath the table. Then, he tapped Hermione on the shoulder. "After I finish my letter to Rosalie, will you walk up with me to the Owlery?"

"Sounds fun," Hermione agreed. "Have you thought about my idea from yesterday?"

Harry had not, but after a good night's rest did not feel as anxious about it. "Yeah, sure," he said. "Go ahead. Also, I wanted to pass my lesson plan by you at some point."

"Shh," Hermione said. She didn't move her head, but Harry saw what she'd seen out of the corner of his eye. Umbridge had just entered the Great Hall. She was too far away to have heard, but both of them went quiet anyways. Hermione picked up a piece of Draco's paper and two quills and the two of them began to write. Harry wondered idly whether Umbridge was reading Hermione's mail as well, but figured she'd have already thought of that. She finished her letter in record time and then began to grab some food on a plate. Harry's letter took much longer, as he struggled to reach back into his twelve-year-old self and recall what had happened. Finally, he passed it over to her.

"Please check that," he said, and then reached for a muffin. Before his hand could make it, Hermione put the muffin she'd placed on the plate she'd made into his hand, and put the rest of the plate in front of him. Harry realised she'd been preparing it for him, anticipating that he would be too busy writing to eat before they began their walk. "Oh, thanks Hermione."

"Of course." She read through the letter quickly, not making any changes, and then set it down and thought. "Honestly," she said, "I can't believe this didn't strike me as odd ages ago. The diary… had its own thoughts and could create its own experiences."

"Do you agree with Rosalie?" Harry asked. "You think that Malfoy's parchment was a cursed object?"

"No." Hermione shook her head and one bit of her curly hair – it had started to go curly over Christmas, randomly – strayed in front of her face. "Dumbledore would have found it when he looked over it. I genuinely think that the parchment was just a parchment and something… either us or something in the vicinity…" She trailed off, furrowing her brow. "I'm not sure. But the diary almost resembles a creature, not a cursed object. Cursed objects can't think for themselves."

Harry thought about that. "Do you reckon it could have been Riddle himself?" he asked. "He was dead at the time, but his spirit was active. I saw him in the back of Quirrel's head the year before. Do you think he just… possessed the book?"

"So the book could have been haunted?" Hermione was thinking out loud now, tracing connections in the air with her finger. "Or perhaps… no, not quite… No, Harry, I don't think Riddle could have been in the book. I think that the basilisk venom would have completely killed him. You said that the… spectre of Tom Riddle fell apart. I don't see how Voldemort could have recovered from that."

"Well, he did recover after being dead for ten years," Harry said. "He just seems to be able to keep coming back."

Hermione turned to Harry slowly and he could see in her eyes that she was suddenly making connections. "Let's walk to the Owlery," she suggested.

Without an argument, Harry picked up his plate. Hermione took both letters, but before they walked away, she laid them out on the table and drew out her wand. She cast a nonverbal spell. First on one, and then the other. "What're you doing?" Harry asked.

"Making them unreadable to anyone except the receiver. Look." Hermione displayed his letter to him. The letters swam across the page and flipped inverses as he tried to read them. He couldn't look for long and turned away with a groan.

On their way out of the Great Hall, they saw Ron coming down the stairs, rubbing his eyes. "Ron!" Hermione called. "We're on our way up to the Owlery – want to come with?"

Ron looked at them both and frowned. He shook his head. "No thanks," he said. "I'm going to grab some food."

Harry was secretly glad Ron had not wanted to come. He smiled. "All right, mate," he said. "We'll catch up with you soon!" And they continued on.

He waited until they had turned the corner from the Great Hall and ascended a staircase before he dared ask Hermione, "so… you thought of something back there. What was it?"

Hermione nodded a little. "I think you're right," she said. "Voldemort must have a way to keep coming back from the dead. I remember hearing once that he boasted to his followers that he could not be killed. I wonder if he found a way to prevent being killed."

Harry considered this. The idea was frightening to him. Because if Riddle kept coming back… would he ever have any peace in his life? "And you think it had something to do with the diary? Like he was creating additional versions of himself from different points in time?"

Hermione stayed quiet for several seconds. "Well," she said. "I didn't think that until you said that."

It had only been a few months that Harry had been able to begin coming up with ideas before Hermione did and he was still rather proud of himself for it. "Oh. Well, talk out loud while you think, so I can follow."

"Then you'll hear all my half-baked thoughts," Hermione complained. However, she began to narrate anyway as they continued up the steps to the owlery, huffing. "I suppose it could be possible… for him to set up a way to bring himself back… and you said that the diary had a corporeal form… perhaps he has multiple versions of himself ready to go… but I don't know of any kind of magic that could do that. And if I don't know about it… It can't be very common at all. Meaning-" They made it to the Owlery and Harry turned to hold the door for Hermione as she walked in. She paused to catch her breath. "Meaning I doubt it's legal. Probably very dark and dangerous."

"Dark and dangerous is code," Harry said. He spotted Hedwig having her own breakfast and waved to her. She ruffled her feathers and continued to eat. Harry decided to let her finish.

Hermione was giving him an odd look. "Code?" She asked.

"Code for definitely not in the Hogwarts Library," Harry said.

Hermione deflated. "Right. You're right. There is a chance it could be in the restricted section. I'd say it's a fifty-fifty chance that McGonagall would give me a pass to do some studying."

"I'd say it's a seventy-thirty chance that Draco can get a pass from Snape."

Hermione frowned. "Actually, I'm not confident on that. Snape cares for Draco. I doubt he'd want him sticking his nose in that stuff. And if Draco keeps doing things for us, he'll lose credibility with the Slytherins."

"Well, we should ask McGonagall then before Professor Umbridge finds a way to restrict library use altogether."

Hermione shivered.

Hedwig finally fluttered down to sit on Harry's shoulder. She held in her beak a little offering – a twig with three shrivelled leaves on it. She leaned down until Harry put his hand out and then dropped it into his hand. "For me?" He asked her. "You shouldn't have." Hermione chuckled when Hedwig nuzzled Harry's hair with her beak. "Aw, I love you too," He told the bird, then returned his gaze to Hermione. "Do you reckon Rosalie could find anything in the Wigan library?"

Hermione went very still. She looked Harry up from head to toe and then said, "I don't trust her."

This was news to Harry. She and Rosalie had seemed to get along just fine ever since Rosalie had spat out the last line of the prophecy. They spent all their time together reciting trivia. "Really?" He asked. "Why?"

"Because… I don't know if Rosalie is her real name," Hermione said. "While you and Draco were packing to leave Wigan, I went and got a pie. I asked where Rosalie was. They didn't know who I was talking about. When I said she was covering for her cousin Amelia, they said that Amelia was the name they had hired her under, and she'd quit before Christmas."

"I thought she was taking a break from work?" Harry said.

"If that was true, then it must have been a more… final type of break." Hermione took a deep breath. "I've been thinking… to be hired, you need a National Insurance Number, and she'd need a Right to Work since she's American… and some sort of identification… They thought her name was Amelia, Harry. You can't just walk into an establishment and be added to payroll as a penname."

"Well…" Harry trailed off. "Maybe she was an under-the-counter employee… wasn't on the payroll… so that she could work more hours?"

Hermione nodded slowly, seemingly agreeing with Harry that avoiding the 25-hour limit could have been a factor. "But why the different name?" she asked. "And… geez, now I'm sounding like a conspiracy theorist… I swear I'd heard her voice before, Harry. When she said that line in the prophecy, I thought I remembered hearing it somewhere in her voice before. But I thought that was just prophecy gizmos… the magic in this prophecy is very strong and probably trying to pull things together. But I thought I remembered it."

"Where would you have heard it from?" Harry asked. His neck was starting to get a cramp so he moved Hedwig to his arm. "Hedwig, I'm so sorry to interrupt your breakfast. Could you please go back to it? I'm wondering if we may need to revise my letter before I give it to you."

Hedwig took off and returned to her place, budging a school owl out of the way so she could have her space. She would normally cuff Harry around the head - his apology must have soothed her irritation at being called down early.

Hermione shook her head. "I have no idea. She lives in the north. She says her family is from the north. Though honestly… I wonder if she has a cousin at all."

"Who'd she be living with?" Harry asked. "She's sixteen. Can she live alone?" The further they got into this, the more doubts Harry had. He could agree that the name thing was weird. But he suddenly felt they were reading into this far too much. "I can see your concerns. But… do you reckon we can trust her enough with this? Or are you thinking she's, like, a secret spy for Voldemort? Maybe she's not the fourth person we were suspecting after all?"

These ideas seemed far-fetched to Harry, but so had the idea of their DADA teacher being a spy last year. And their first year. Actually, on second thought, his life was always far-fetched. He really should come to assume every new person wandering into his life was a death eater in disguise at this point.

Hermione looked down at Harry's letter in her hand. "Let's send this," she said. "And not say anything else. And maybe… let's keep this between us? I think… Draco would be distraught."

"I agree," Harry said. "Okay." He looked up, and called Hedwig back down. She fwooshed through the air and perched on Harry's arm again before stretching out her foot. Hermione helped Harry secure his letter to her foot. Hedwig glanced at the other one, which Hermione held on to, then put her foot down. With a final nuzzle of Harry's ear, she swooped off. Harry moved to the side of the owlery and watched her while she flew. In moments, she was out over the lake. Then, after about a minute, she faded into a pinprick in the distance. Nothing summoned her to the ground. "I guess Umbridge is still busy at breakfast," he said.

Hermione found a school owl willing to carry her letter and came by to watch as it, too, flew off. Harry paused a moment, then put his arm behind her back and took hold of the wall beside her. Plenty of space if she needed it. She did not react. "Beautiful day," she said. "What are we doing today?"

"Dungeons and Dragons, if we can convince you," Harry said. "Hermione, I wanted to ask if you'd be my girlfriend."

Her cheeks turned pink immediately. "I can't say I didn't expect that," she said and smiled. "Yes, alright." Harry chuckled a little and then picked up her left hand with his to kiss the back of it.

It was a very special moment.

A week later, Harry and Draco were sitting underneath a window in a corridor, practicing Harry's Occlumency. Draco had not been able to perform the Legimens charm while they'd been in Wigan, so they'd spent their time talking through it. Now, Harry was able to see how much progress he'd made.

Draco had told him that he exercised Occlumency far differently that Snape did. The entire concept was meta, but essentially, you needed to create a defence for your brain. It often helped to compare it to a situation. Snape was all about preventing an attack. His was most comparable to a castle wall. Every entrance impeded. Draco, instead, practiced Occlumency as if he had no brain at all. He imagined his mind fitting into a tiny, unassuming box, and that box being hidden away somewhere. If you couldn't find where his mind was, you couldn't enter it.

In Wigan, Rosalie had proposed the strategy of a fast mind – a brain that worked on so many things at once that it was impossible to read because it was in fragments. But she didn't know the Legimens charm and so had been unable to test it on either of them. Harry imagined though that anyone looking in hers or Hermione's brains might find theirs imploding.

Harry had begun imagining his thoughts in a locked safe and one needed a code to enter. The strategy was effective half the time. Most of Harry's real thoughts were hidden from Draco, but Draco could sift around his forethoughts and occasionally figure out the code to force his way into the rest of Harry's mind. But it was a start and it helped Harry feel a lot more confident in his abilities.

A mass break out of Azakaban was reported the day after Harry and Hermione had mailed their letters. Harry hadn't received a response from Rosalie yet, but Draco got a letter every day. It was a reminder of where he fell in the grand scheme of things. With the break in, everyone had focused on his DADA teachings a lot more. Neville had been the second to master the shield charm – right after Hermione. He worked harder than everyone.

Umbridge had placed Hagrid on probation, who was still receiving a lot of odd bruises and wounds from something he wouldn't tell Harry, Ron, or Hermione about. And at this point, it was only a matter of time before either Trelawney or Hagrid were sacked. Umbridge had also banned teachers about giving guidance on anything not related to their subject, which had turned out to be a benefit to Hermione. When Hermione had gone to McGonagall to request a pass to the Restricted Section, McGonagall had not been able to ask too many questions. It was the easiest pass Harry had received since he'd been put on the Quidditch team his first year.

Ron was still mad about Harry and Hermione, but Parvati Patil had apparently attempted to throw a party in the Girl's Dorm. Ron joined the DnD group for games, but avoided conversations with Harry in class, instead chatting with Neville and Dean (since Seamus was still being a bit of a prat about Harry). At least those two weren't ganging up on him.

"Right, I'm interrupting," a voice came from down the hall. Harry and Draco looked up and Harry squinted against the sun and against a headache. "Harry, I got an answer from our beetle."

"Hi Hermione," Harry said. "How is your day going?"

Hermione took a seat in the sunshine, facing the two of them. She laid a letter on the ground. "Next Hogsmeade weekend," she said.

"Right," Harry agreed. But we will be grabbing lunch first." He looked to Draco. "Has Rosalie mentioned when she's coming in?"

Draco was reaching into his coat pocket. "This was a stupid thing to forget," he said. "But I forgot. She wrote me back for Hermione this morning, because she thought a better chance that my mail wouldn't be skimmed, and also it's in code." He handed a paper folded in fourths to Hermione.

Harry leaned over Malfoy's shoulder and stared at the jumble of letters. In the corner was the number four, circled. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

Hermione held a hand out to Draco and Draco pulled a coloured pen out of his pocket with a scoff. She muttered under her breath, counting on her fingers, and then scribbled a few letters underneath the ones on the page. After only four, she straightened up. "It's just a Caesar Cypher," she said. "No big deal."

The first four letters spelt, "Herm". It was impossible to tell where one word would start, as there were no spaces, but it seemed very likely that the message could be cracked now.

"You sit there and crack it," Draco said. "I'm curious, and Potter needs more practice anyway."

Harry groaned but could not deny Draco's words. "We're all just teaching each other, aren't we?" he said. "Imagine that."

Draco paused and peered at Harry curiously. "I've got an idea," he said. "Imagine your mind is a mirror."

"A mirror." Harry quickly traced Draco's line of thinking. He must have thought Harry was deflecting, and if he could do that well, then… "Are you sure?"

"Let's give it a shot. Ready?"

Harry pictured a mirror. The first one that came to mind was the Mirror of Erised. Then he gave a thumbs-up to Draco. "Legimens," Draco said.

He felt the attack coming, felt it near, and then felt it jump off his mirror. Suddenly, he could see Draco with his feet up in the house in Wigan, with Harry and Hermione and Rosalie and his parents there. The image quickly shut off. "Right," Draco said. "We're not doing that again, but it works. Maybe Hermione would like to do that with you."

"It was a good idea, Draco," Harry said. It probably had not been the most polite to imagine the Mirror of Erised, and he quickly pushed the images down. "Thanks for suggesting it."

Draco did not reply. He was trying to read Hermione's translation of Rosalie's code upside-down. Harry moved his head to peer as well.

Hermioneimsuspiciousthatthatjournalthatharryfoughtshouldnothave

Beenabletobecomeasolidpersoniwonderifitisacopythedarklordmadeof

Himselfandifthereareanymoreouttheresofarinmyresearchihavenotfound

Muchbutisuspectsomesortofsoulanchorthatpreventshisspiritfromleaving

Theearth

Hermione had, once she'd found most of the letters, begun skipping ahead and filling things in. Not every word was filled in, but you could make out most of it by reading ahead. The last bit was completely done though. It read, "pleaseresearchhorcruxesfromyourfriendrosalie."

"Is that one word, or two?" Harry asked.

"It's clearly several," Draco replied.

"I think horcruxes are one word," Hermione said. She stood. "I guess I'm off to the library. Either of you coming?"

"We're going to teach Blaise Zabini to play Dungeons," Harry said. "But if we finish before you're done, I'll come help you."

"You won't finish before me." Hermione stuck out her tongue and the three laughed and departed.

Harry couldn't understand what was taking Rosalie so long to transfer. At this rate, she'd only be there for the last three days of school! But she would never give a straight answer on what was taking so long, though she did promise to meet them in Hogsmeade over Valentine's day.

On February the fourteenth, Harry met Hermione in the common room to walk to Hogsmeade together. She had decided to wear her Muggle clothes, which was a welcome change. She looked comfortable and nice.

"Are we also meeting Draco?" Hermione asked as they climbed out of the portrait hall.

"If I had to guess, I'd say he headed out already," Harry said. "He's not said anything, but I think he's been going bonkers waiting."

They joined the throng of students wandering away from the castle. It was a very cold day, but Harry's muggle coat and gloves were thick enough that he only noticed the bite of the temperature on his cheeks.

The sun was just finishing melting the night's frost off the windows and doors of the little village when they arrived, but most shops were open and bustling. Was the little village getting a bit bigger? Harry couldn't see any new construction, but it seemed to him that there was an extra street or two to the north.

The first thing he did was take Hermione into the Tomes and Scrolls, so she could pick out a book of her liking. She hunted around for a half hour and then found a book on the four Hogwarts founders. Harry took it from her and went to the register to purchase it for her. There was a double value in this purchase, he thought. First, it'd show Hermione he valued her on Valentine's Day. Second, it could contain some hints as to what the Bane of Hogwarts was supposed to be.

Hermione insisted on taking Harry to Spintwitch's Sporting Needs so he could peer around as well. There wasn't much that he needed, but he understood that Hermione wanted to get him something for the same reason he wanted to get her something, so he got a small pack of chocolate frog cards instead. Then, outside, he offered one to her.

"What's your card?" Harry asked, biting the head off his frog before it could hop out of his grasp. The rest of the chocolate hardened as the charm wore off.

Hermione glanced at hers, and smirked. "Guess," she said.

"Dumbledore."

"Nope. Guess again?"

"Fudge? Bagman?"

Hermione turned the card around. "Salazar Slytherin," she said, "was the founder of Slytherin house at Hogwarts. He was one of the first recorded Parselmouths, an accomplished Legilimens, and a notorious champion of pureblood supremacy."

Harry snorted and looked at his own card. "Oh, gee whiz, I got Gryffindor," he said. "Godric Gryffindor was the founder of Gryffindor house at Hogwarts and the first owner of the celebrated Sorting Hat. He was the most accomplished dueller of his time and an enlightened fighter against Muggle discrimination."

Hermione paused. "This can't be a coincidence," she said.

"No, it can't," Harry said. "But while I'm staring at this card, do you think any of this means stuff for us?"

"You are an accomplished dueller," Hermione said. "I'm not sure I could speak Parselmouth and I don't think I'll ever champion pureblood supremacy." She frowned. "I've never tried Legilimens."

"If you want, you can try on me," Harry said. "I'm still working on my Occlumency. I've got my next meeting with Snape on Thursday." He had had two thus far and they had been better, but he still felt subpar.

"Are you still doing Draco's mirror technique?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head. "I haven't with Snape. I feel that wouldn't go over very well."

"Well, let's give it a go," Hermione said. "Legimens."

Harry tried to imagine his thoughts were in a locked safe. He waited and waited. Then, Hermione began sifting through his thoughts and Harry realised it was already too late. She'd snuck in without him realising.

"Try the mirror method, Harry."

He imagined his mind as a mirror and this time, when Hermione uttered the spell, she bounced right off. Harry glimpsed her forethoughts before the spell ended. She looked very impressed. "In my opinion, you should just keep that up," she said. "Learn to make your mind like that all the time."

They went to lunch and got paninis at the Three Broomsticks, but didn't make any effort to move. Rita Skeeter showed up a half hour after they'd ended and Hermione waved her over. Luna Lovegood also drifted over, apparently in on the plot as well.

Unemployment did not suit Rita. The hair that had once been set in elaborate curls now hung lank and unkempt around her face. The scarlet paint on her two-inch talons was chipped and there were a couple of false jewels missing from her winged glasses. She got a firewhisky from the bar and took a big gulp before she said 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," said Hermione irritably.

"What deal?" said Rita, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. "You haven't mentioned a deal yet, Miss Prissy, you just told me to turn up. Oh, one of these days . . ." She took a deep shuddering breath.

"Yes, yes, one of these days you'll write more horrible stories about Harry and me," said Hermione indifferently. "Find someone who cares, why don't you?"

"They've run plenty of horrible stories about Harry this year without my help," said Rita, shooting a sideways look at him over the top of her glass and adding in a rough whisper, "How has that made you feel, Harry? Betrayed? Distraught? Misunderstood?"

"He feels angry, of course," said Hermione in a hard, clear voice. "Because he's told the Minister of Magic the truth and the Minister's too much of an idiot to believe him."

"So you actually stick to it, do you, that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back?" said Rita, lowering her glass and subjecting Harry to a piercing stare while her finger strayed longingly to the clasp of the crocodile bag. "You stand by all this garbage Dumbledore's been telling everybody about You-Know-Who returning and you being the sole witness — ?"

"I wasn't the sole witness," snarled Harry. "There were a dozen-odd Death Eaters there as well. Want their names?"

"I'd love them," breathed Rita, now fumbling in her bag once more and gazing at him. "A great bold headline: 'Potter Accuses . . .' A subheading: '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. . . .' " The Quick-Quotes Quill was actually in her hand and halfway to her mouth when the rapturous expression died out of her face. "But of course," she said, lowering the quill and looking daggers at Hermione, "Little Miss Perfect wouldn't want that story out there, would she?"

"As a matter of fact," said Hermione sweetly, "that's exactly what Little Miss Perfect does want." Rita stared at her. Harry fought to keep a smirk off his face. Luna, across the table, sang, "Weasley Is Our King" dreamily under her breath and stirred her drink with a cocktail onion on a stick. Harry pinched his lips together. He needed to remember to sock Malfoy in the arm for that stupid song. Or get Hermione to do it.

"You want me to report what he says about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" Rita asked Hermione in a hushed voice.

"Yes, I do," said Hermione. "The true story. All the facts. Exactly as Harry reports them. He'll give you all the details, he'll tell you the names of the undiscovered Death Eaters he saw there, he'll tell you what Voldemort looks like now — oh, get a grip on yourself," she added contemptuously, throwing a napkin across the table, for at the sound of Voldemort's name, Rita had jumped so badly that she had slopped half her glass of firewhisky down herself.

Rita blotted the front of her grubby raincoat, still staring at Hermione. Then she said baldly, "The Prophet wouldn't print it. In case you haven't noticed, nobody believes his cock-and-bull story. Everyone thinks he's delusional. Now, if you let me write the story from that angle —"

"We don't need another story about how Harry's lost his marbles!" said Hermione angrily. "We've had plenty of those already, thank you! I want him given the opportunity to tell the truth!"

"There's no market for a story like that," said Rita coldly.

"You mean the Prophet won't print it because Fudge won't let them," said Hermione irritably.

Rita gave Hermione a long, hard look. Then, leaning forward across the table toward her, she said in a businesslike 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 breakout has got people quite worried 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?" said Hermione scathingly.

Rita sat up straight again, her eyebrows raised, and drained her glass of firewhisky. "The Prophet exists to sell itself, you silly girl," she said coldly.

"My dad thinks it's an awful paper," said Luna, chipping into the conversation unexpectedly. Sucking on her cocktail onion, she gazed at Rita with her enormous, protuberant, slightly mad eyes. "He publishes important stories that he thinks the public needs to know. He doesn't care about making money."

Rita looked disparagingly at Luna. "I'm guessing your father runs some stupid little village newsletter?" she said. " 'Twenty-five Ways to Mingle with Muggles' and the dates of the next Bring-and-Fly Sale?"

"No," said Luna, dipping her onion back into her gillywater, "he's the editor of The Quibbler."

Rita snorted so loudly that people at a nearby table looked around in alarm. " 'Important stories he thinks the public needs to know'?" she said witheringly. "I could manure my garden with the contents of that rag."

"Well, this is your chance to raise the tone of it a bit, isn't it?" said Hermione pleasantly. "Luna says her father's quite happy to take Harry's interview. That's who'll be publishing it."

Rita stared at them both for a moment and then let out a great whoop of laughter. "The Quibbler!" she said, cackling. "You think people will take him seriously if he's published in The Quibbler?"

"Some people won't," said Hermione in a level voice. "But the Daily Prophet's version of the Azkaban breakout had some gaping holes in it. I think a lot of people will be wondering whether there isn't a better explanation of what happened, and if there's an alternative story available, even if it is published in a" — she glanced sideways at Luna, "in a — well, an unusual magazine — I think they might be rather keen to read it."

Rita did not say anything for a while, but eyed Hermione shrewdly, her head a little to one side. "All right, let's say for a moment I'll do it," she said abruptly. "What kind of fee am I going to get?"

"I don't think Daddy exactly pays people to write for the magazine," said Luna dreamily. "They do it because it's an honor, and, of course, to see their names in print."

Rita Skeeter looked as though the taste of Stinksap was strong in her mouth as she rounded on Hermione. "I'm supposed to do this for free?"

"Well, yes," said Hermione calmly, taking a sip of her drink. "Otherwise, as you very well know, I will inform the authorities that you are an unregistered Animagus. Of course, the Prophet might give you rather a lot for an insider's account of life in Azkaban. . . ."

Rita looked as though she would have liked nothing better than to seize the paper umbrella sticking out of Hermione's drink and thrust it up her nose.

"I don't suppose I've got any choice, have I?" said Rita, her voice shaking slightly. She opened her crocodile bag once more, withdrew a piece of parchment, and raised her Quick-Quotes Quill.

"Daddy will be pleased," said Luna brightly. A muscle twitched in Rita's jaw.

"Okay, Harry?" said Hermione, turning to him. "Ready to tell the public the truth?"

"I suppose," said Harry, watching Rita balancing the QuickQuotes Quill at the ready on the parchment between them. "You'll be double-checking what she writes, I assume."

"Every word. Fire away, then, Rita," said Hermione serenely, fishing a cherry out of the bottom of her glass.

The interview concluded by the time that two PM had rolled around. Harry and Hermione got a shake – despite the temperature outside – to celebrate as Luna and Rita took their leave. They weren't alone for long. Someone with light brown hair and a bright blue streak in the side entered and pointed directly at them with a wide smile.

Harry looked at Hermione. Hermione looked at Harry. Then, Draco Malfoy entered behind the person, and they realised that the brunette was Rosalie.

"Don't tell me that you didn't recognise me!" Rosalie exclaimed, drawing nearer. "Oh, it's so grand to see you both!"

Harry and Hermione got to their feet and were hugged in turn by Rosalie. Harry could tell Hermione was slightly uncomfortable with the new look. On any other friend, such an appearance would be welcome. On a friend with two names? It felt off.

"It's great to see you as well!" Hermione said, offering up the spots that Luna and Rita had vacated. "Your hair is new!"

"I needed a change," Rosalie said.

"Are you still in Wigan?" Hermione asked.

Rosalie shook her head. "No, I'm not. I actually moved to Edinburgh. I found a place there to myself for pretty cheap and thought it'd make owl communication with Draco and Dumbledore easier." She slapped a hand down on the table. "Before I forget – I just got Rowena Ravenclaw's chocolate frog card!" She began to reach into her pocket. Harry and Hermione immediately moved to theirs and, as a trio, they all put their cards on the table. Rosalie looked confused for a moment, then surprised.

Draco's lips pinched together. "Coincidence," he said.

Rosalie hummed and exchanged a look with Hermione, eyebrows raised. "He won't tell me who he got," she said, very matter-of-factly. It couldn't be clearer who she thought he'd got. The corner of Hermione's mouth twitched.

"Draco?" Someone else had approached the table. Harry found himself wishing for a more private corner. This time, it was Pansy Parkinson, who did look… to be honest… a little worse for wear. "Who's this?"

Draco glanced around the table at the three as if to say, "buckle up" and took Rosalie's hand. "This is Rosalie Spinks," he said. "The pureblooded American I'm dating."

Pansy looked them both up and down. "You both look like Muggles," she said.

"Happy Muggles," Rosalie said. "You must be… Petunia?" Harry cringed.

"Pansy," Pansy said.

"Pansy. I'm so sorry! I've heard all about Draco's friends from school. It's just-" She waved her hand at her forehead. "Names."

"Right." Pansy nodded. "Well, Draco tells me you're transferring in?"

"Yeah, about that." Harry couldn't bite his tongue anymore. "How much longer is that going to take?"

"Part of it is my fault," Rosalie said in earnest. "I forgot to write Dumbledore back about a meeting time. I only sent the owl last week. I got distracted with my research project."

"Research project?" Hermione blurted out. "What on?"

"Oh, Hermione, are you familiar with electromagnetic interference?"

Harry was glad to see Draco and Pansy look just as intimidated as he felt. Of course, it wasn't as if Pansy was very high up in their year... Draco was second after Hermione and he looked lost... Hermione immediately perked up. "Yes! I was wondering back in second year if it was the reason-"

"Technology doesn't work at Hogwarts?" Rosalie finished over Hermione. "Well, did you figure anything out?"

"I'll pull out my old notes! They're probably just up in my trunk."

Rosalie groaned. "I wish I'd written Dumbledore back sooner!"

Hermione thought about that. "Well, why don't we walk up right now?" She asked. "He's probably in his office."

Rosalie looked momentarily panicked, then calmed back down. "Can we just go up?" she asked. "He is a very powerful wizard."

"Sure, Potter does it all the time," Draco rolled his eyes. Harry felt very sullen. This afternoon was certainly being taken up by a lot of business, and he still did not want to see Dumbledore. He glanced at Hermione, who had noticed.

"Let's walk up together," Hermione said, "And we'll give you the password to Dumbledore's Office. And after that, you can go explore the grounds and the village before dark, and we'll do the same."

Man, Hermione was wonderful. He nodded at her and she smiled back. The group shuffled out of the booth and left the Three Broomsticks. Pansy did not follow.

Colin Creevey and Dennis Creevey were leaving the Quidditch Supplies store when Colin spotted Harry and shouted his name across the road. "Harry! Hey, Harry!"

Draco and Rosalie were walking hand in hand a little ahead of Harry and Hermione. Draco turned around and said, "Here comes your fanbase, Potter."

But Colin had only made it halfway across the road when he instead focused on Rosalie. His brow went together and he stared at her in confusion. "Do I know you?" he asked.

Rosalie was just as confused. "Er, no?" she said.

Colin thought for a moment, then smiled. "You look really similar to this actress – Marilyn De'Armeen."

"Do I?" Rosalie asked.

"I mean… I can see the differences between you, but yeah, it threw me off."

"What's she been in?" Hermione asked Colin. "Anything I'd know?"

"The Prince and the Showgirl television series," Colin began. "She had a background role in Bridgerton. And the movie Bane of Broadway."

"Bane of Broadway," Hermione repeated. "I've seen that one."

Rosalie shook her head. "Well, congratulations. I think that may be one of the only times you'll have seen a movie I haven't seen." She smiled at Colin. "What's your name?"

Colin smiled back. "Colin Creevey," he said, then glanced behind Rosalie at Harry. "Oh! Harry! Hey, check out this green stitch!" He opened his hand and a green practice snitch flit out.

Harry nodded. "I didn't realise they had different colours. Thanks for showing me, Colin."

Colin nodded and ran back to his brother. Rosalie raised an eyebrow at the sudden departure. "That was interesting," she said, and then pointed over her shoulder. "Um, Dumbledore, still?"

While they walked, they filled Rosalie in on how things were at the castle. Rosalie had already heard about Umbridge, but after a month, Harry had more to rant about. "She's banned spells in the corridors!" he said. "And started instigating a rule that everyone needs to be at least two feet apart from each other. No one's to touch. And when McGonagall went to Dumbledore about reinstating the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, she got permission to undo that!"

Underneath the bluff where the castle would come into line of sight, Rosalie tucked her arm through Draco's and said, "You know… I bet we could get her thrown out."

Conversation stopped and Harry, Hermione, and Draco all stared at her. She did not wilt under their gazes. "Just a thought," She said. "Of course, if you don't want to…"

"No, we want to," Harry said quickly. "But… how?"

"The bureaucracy. To my understanding, the ministry is still subject to the UK Government. Even if they like to pretend they're independent." Rosalie shrugged. "Give me a week. I'm American. We're awfully good at obnoxious lawsuits. For example, a woman got a cup of coffee – much more popular in America than it is here – and dropped it. It burned her pretty badly and so she sued the company for not putting a proper label that the cup was hot. And the court decided-"

"Here we are," Draco said, pointing. They crested the hill and Hogwarts was now in the distance. Rosalie's eyes fixed on it, and a smile spread across her face.

"Wow," she said. "It looks just like the carving we saw in Manchester."

They stood for a moment, staring, and then continued forward. Rosalie continued holding onto Draco's arm as they walked and Harry was trying to work up the courage to offer his arm to Hermione. What was he nervous about? That she was going to say no?

"What did the court decide?" Draco asked, still invested in the story Rosalie had been telling.

"She won!" Rosalie exclaimed. "The company had to pay her and they started putting labels on everything so it wouldn't happen again. Long story short, I bet there's a loophole I can sinch closed around Umbridge's neck."

"Right," Harry said. "You know, Draco, between Rosalie making nooses out of the law and Hermione shaking jars with people in them, I think we'd better not ever put a toe out of line again. What do you think?"

The three others laughed. They passed through Hogwarts wards and were officially on the property. Rosalie gazed up at the castle. "Being here feels like a dream," she said in a light tone, as if a faint breeze would blow her away.

Draco took his arm away from her and put it around her back instead. Harry swallowed and, before he could lose his nerve, switched the hand he held Hermione's with and pulled her underneath his arm as well. Waited a moment to see if she would pull away, and she did – taking her hand away from his and sliding it around his back instead.

Maybe she had been having the same thought he'd been having all the walk up, and he'd simply acted too late.

Unfortunately, it didn't last long. Professor Umbridge was standing just inside the doors. They all quickly broke apart. "Back early?" Professor Umbridge asked.

"Yes, Professor Umbridge," Draco answered for them all. Beside him, Rosalie sized Umbridge up. She stood just a little taller than her. And just as confidently.

Umbridge focused on the pair of them. "What are you both wearing?" she asked.

Draco hesitated. "An insulated sweater," Rosalie said. "It's chilly out today."

"Who are you?"

"Friend of my family's," Draco said. "She's been-"

"Working on a research project with Professor Dumbledore," Rosalie interrupted. "And Hermione."

This was the worst possible thing Rosalie could have said. Hermione jumped and tried to disguise the motion by raising a hand to her forehead. Draco's smirk faltered. Professor Umbridge was examining them very closely. Harry felt that she was breathing into his face despite being a good meter away. "What about?" she asked.

"Well, it's quite complicated," Rosalie said. "Do you know anything about multisensory stimulated pedagogy and its socio-legal applications?"

Harry's brain switched off after the first two syllables. Umbridge paused. "Is that a law from the Ministry?" she asked.

"Oh, it's quite complicated." Rosalie sighed and shrugged. "It'd take an hour or two to break it down for you. How about I set up a time to talk with you later..."

"My dear," Umbridge huffed, "I am a Hogwarts Professor."

"What's your discipline?" Rosalie asked.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts," Umbridge said, frowning. "But I work for the ministry! I've never heard of-"

"It's a very different field. But like I said, I'm happy to explain it to you later."

Umbridge looked very cross at Rosalie. But they all began to move past her and she did not stop them. They quickly turned the corner and scurried out of earshot. Harry glanced back, but she did not seem to be following them. "Why'd you do that?" he asked.

"Yes, why did you do that?" Draco repeated, a little stern. "You're going to get me pegged as a troublemaker! Like Potter!"

Rosalie's lips turned into a smile. Harry and Hermione began to lead the way, though all three were looking towards her for answers. "I did it," she said, "to see how legal-minded she is. And she isn't. And I also did it so that she'll remember me, and she'll know I can talk circles around her."

"But why'd you drag me into it?" Hermione asked. "I've only got the faintest idea of what teaching laws there are!"

"Oh, you can keep up with legalese?" Rosalie looked extremely pleased. Harry looked at Draco, lost. "Well, I dragged you into it because she doesn't like you and I don't want her to like me either."

"Excuse you," Draco frowned. "Now I'm not going to be on good terms with her!"

"You'll do just fine. You're good at getting people to listen to you." She patted his shoulder. Draco was not placated.

Harry shook his head against a splitting headache. They were now approaching the gargoyles. "Chocolate Chip," Hermione told them - she knew the password from Prefect rounds, though she hadn't used it yet - and they sprang apart. Draco and Rosalie waved. "Come find us later," Hermione said. "And tell us how it went." As they walked up and out of sight and the gargoyles closed, she said to Harry, "Do you think I can cross off visiting Dumbledore's office twice on my BINGO card?"

"I feel that you need to go up the stairs," Harry said. "But ask everyone else. No one's got a BINGO yet. You can outvote me."

"I have a feeling they'll agree with you."

They wandered down to the lake and found a smooth slab of stone to sit on. Harry kept his arm around her and rubbed little lines on her upper arm. She told him about a book she'd begun reading for fun – it was filled with old ways to do Arithmancy. The sunlight glittered on the lake and the wind made their cheeks pink.

"Hermione," Harry said when they'd sat for fifteen minutes. "May I kiss you?"

She smiled with her mouth closed and straightened up beside him. "That would be nice," she said.

He wasn't quite sure what he was doing, but he took off his right glove and put his hand to her jaw. All too soon, his fingers would become icy, and he didn't think that would be very attractive. He leaned forward and paused just a moment. Her warm breath defrosted his cheek and unnerved him a bit. Then Hermione closed the distance and Harry felt her hand on his cheek as they tested the new contact.

They had their first three kisses by the lake.

The next chapter will be called The Resorting, and is one of my favourites. I'll post it early if I get five reviews. (One count per commenter per chapter.)