"So Granger," Cormac said, "I hear that Slughorn's throwing a small soiree this week. Care to go as my plus one?"
Hermione sighed. She had worn her ring since she had gotten it. She'd been in several news articles because of it. But they were mostly Bulgarian papers. News hadn't really gotten back to England about her engagement. For which she was mostly grateful.
But there were times that she wished some people weren't as oblivious. Mostly Cormac.
"Can't," she said.
"Of course you can," Cormac insisted. "I'll pick you up in the common room and then we'll stroll down to the dungeons together."
Hermione shook her head. "I can't. I don't think Viktor would like it if I went with you. Especially since he's already my plus one."
"You're still together?" Cormac asked.
"Well, I wouldn't spend all summer, or most of it anyways, in Bulgaria if we weren't. And I certainly wouldn't be trying to figure out how I'm going to split my time after graduation if he weren't a factor."
And she wasn't sure exactly how things were going to work out. She was sure there was going to be a huge conflict. And she knew that she was going to wind up helping Harry. He needed her for that. He wouldn't survive on his own.
It was after that that was the tricky part. She loved England. It had always been her home. But since she had found Viktor, she only wanted to be with him. She would gladly go live on Mars if it meant that she got to be with Viktor all the time.
But she also wanted to be around her friends. It would be nice to be able to visit Harry, Ron, Neville and Padma at times. Magic would make that so much easier, but she knew that she would still have to account for time zones and such.
"You planning on moving?" Cormac asked.
"If only to get away from you," Hermione said.
She stormed away from him, heading to the library. It was always quiet in there. She could sit and think, and Madame Pince kept most of the students out. It was a small haven in a school that was otherwise bustling with life.
She pulled a random book off a shelf and immersed herself in it. She finished the book and looked up to find Harry and Ron staring at her.
"What time is it?" she asked.
"About eight. You missed supper," Ron said.
"We're taking you to the kitchen," Harry added.
"I'm perfectly capable of going on my own," Hermione said.
Harry and Ron each put an arm around her and herded her out of the library.
"We know," they chorused.
Under their supervision, she ate a bowl of stew, a roll, and a treacle tart. They wouldn't let her leave any of it untouched. And once she started eating, she realized that she was much hungrier than she had originally thought.
"What happened?" Harry asked.
"We heard that McLaggen had something to do with it. But we don't know much more than that," Ron said.
"He's just an insensitive lout who thinks he's the most attractive man in the world," Hermione said. "And he assumed that I'd go to Slughorn's party with him. As if I would even if I weren't engaged."
"I don't think that everyone knows that," Harry said. "You wear your ring on the opposite hand for English traditions."
"And?"
"And most people won't look up Bulgarian wedding and engagement traditions."
Hermione sighed. "I know. And it's not like I need the whole school to know. I'd rather they didn't. But I just wish I had a way of telling all the stupid guys to back off. I'm dating someone."
"It was easier when he was here," Ron said. "He was just always around."
"Scared most of the guys off," Harry said. "But he was always followed by a gaggle of giggling girls."
"Don't remind me," Hermione groaned. "He's always followed by fangirls. At least in Bulgaria they keep their distance."
"Maybe people will be a little more respectful after the wedding," Ron suggested.
"That's over two and a half years away," Hermione reminded him.
"So, you're magic. You guys are probably going to live to be close to two hundred years old. I bet that in fifty years you're going to laugh at how stupid some of those girls were," Ron said.
"Maybe."
"If you don't, Viktor and I will," Harry said. "I feel his pain."
"Harry, you're just the savior of the wizarding world," Ron said. "You aren't an international quidditch star."
"Maybe not yet."
Hermione leaned over the desk. "So who are you taking?" she asked Harry.
"I'm not sure." Harry shrugged and then turned back to his essay. They were getting better but it was still his first draft and he was struggling.
"You're going to have to ask someone. I've heard Romilda Vane talking about you. She's thinking about slipping you a love potion."
"Really?"
Hermione shook her head. "Don't worry. She's only interested because she thinks you're the chosen one."
"But Hermione," Harry protested, "I am the chosen one. This is going to get ridiculous."
"Probably. You'd better ask someone to the party, and fast. Or things are going to get ugly."
"Fine. What do you think about Luna?" Harry asked.
"I think she's nuts, but not in a bad way," Hermione said. "She'd probably love to go. And it would be much less awkward than bringing Ron."
"He'd just be mad that he wasn't invited and then think I was trying to spare his feelings. And then he'd be frustrated because nothing happens at Slughorn's parties anyways. And I'm trying to get something from Slughorn, so I'd be doing that instead of having fun with Ron." Harry rambled on about the troubles he was having.
"I'll be sure to entertain Luna while you butter up Slughorn," Hermione said. "And I'll make sure that she knows Neville and Padma are going to be there too."