Chapter Two
THE MINISTER OF MAGIC
Harry wasn't quite sure what hit him in the moment before he woke up, but he was vaguely aware of his face and pillow being all wet. From across the room, Ron groaned, and a steam of laughter came in the direction of the doorway as Harry fumbled around for his glasses.
"Bloody hell," muttered Ron. Harry looked over to the doorway, where, sure enough, Fred and George were standing with looks of sheer amusement on their faces.
"Great trick, isn't it?" asked Fred. "They're Muggle water balloons!"
"Those Muggles are ingenious!" exclaimed George between guffaws. "We weren't sure if they worked the same as ours until yesterday. Dad came across them at work and brought them home to put in the shed, and Hermione told us all we had to do was fill them and throw them-no charm necessary!"
Harry had to laugh at their fascinated attitude to Muggle things, which got Ron laughing, too.
"Besides," added Fred, "Mum told us to wake you up."
"There are other ways of getting people up," Ron grumbled. He pulled himself out of bed and checked his reflection in the glass window pain. "I just love waking up looking like I've been caught in a downpour."
"There might be other ways," said George, "but this, without a doubt, was the most fun. So cheer up, little brother!"
"And hurry up!" called Fred. The two of them were on their way back downstairs already. "Mum won't let the two of us eat until the two of you show your faces at the table, too!"
"You're lucky it's just water this time," said Ron. He informed Harry about some of his brothers' other methods of waking him earlier that summer.
"Gloorip?" interrupted Harry midway through Ron's rundown.
Ron cringed. "You really don't want to know," he said grimly. "It was there own creation. Smelled like old socks and nearly smothered me with its stickiness. My hair was rock hard for days."
Harry grimaced. He could only imagine what it must have been like. The look on Ron's face was anything but pleasant.
"Come on," said Ron, grabbing Harry's arm. "We can eat in our pajamas this once. Fred and George won't be pleased if we make them wait another minute for their breakfast. Besides, I'm starved!"
The two boys were down the stairs in a matter of minutes. Fred and George already had their spoons poised above their porridge bowls and dug in the second Ron and Harry had stepped from the bottom step onto the kitchen floor. Hermione and Ginny were also at the table; Ginny looked about ready to fall asleep in her breakfast, but Hermione was alert, dressed, and chattering away with Mrs. Weasley.
"Good morning!" Mrs. Weasley called. She was still washing a pile of dishes leftover from dinner the night before, but she pointed her wand in their direction for long enough to conjure up two more bowls of breakfast. "I hope the twins didn't give you too much trouble when I sent them up."
"No trouble at all, Mum," said Fred hastily.
"You better not have," Mrs. Weasley warned. "Did you sleep well? I could have sworn I heard noise coming from your room, but you both appeared to be fast asleep when I looked in on you."
Ron, Harry, and Hermione shared a quick look. "Just fine, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry.
"That's a relief," said Mrs. Weasley. "Oh, you'll all have to excuse me for a minute. I commanded the broom to get sweeping the house, but I do believe I just heard him stop."
The twins and Ron finished their first bowl of porridge just moments after their mother had left and jumped up to refill their bowls. Ginny, who had nearly drifted off on top of her toast, opened her eyes with a start.
"You guys eat as much as pigs!" she exclaimed with disgust. At the same time, George had missed his mouth when he went to shovel in another bite, so he had his breakfast dripping down his chin. Ginny shook her head as she carried her own bowl to the sink. As she walked over to the stairs, she muttered, "And have about as many manners."
Harry looked to each of the Weasley brothers. They looked as perplexed as he felt. Ginny was usually so calm and mild-mannered, especially in his presence. He leaned in as soon as she was out of earshot and whispered, "Is something wrong with her?"
Ron, George, and Fred exchanged looks and shrugs. "No idea," declared Fred, "She's been like this most of the summer."
"She's always exasperated with all of us," added Ron.
"Always putting her friends before us," finished George.
"Oh, she's just growing up," said Hermione. She got up to put her own bowl in the sink, but she sat back down at the table with the boys instead of traipsing back upstairs. "I think she's just tired of being little Ginny to all of you."
"She still is little Ginny!" exclaimed Fred.
"Yeah, she'll always be our little sister!" agreed George.
"Girls!" muttered Ron.
There was a moment of silence, for Harry chose not to comment. Instead, he got up to refill his own bowl. He didn't eat as fast as any of the Weasleys, but that didn't mean he wasn't as hungry. However, he couldn't quite manage the ladle and his bowl because his cast had his left elbow locked at a ninety-degree angle.
"Do you need some help, Harry?" asked Hermione, breaking the silence. Without waiting for a response, she jumped up and took the bowl from him. He gave her a grateful smile; he really couldn't manage the task very well on his own.
"Thanks Hermione," said Harry, returning to his seat. "You're the greatest."
"It was no problem." Hermione's words were slightly muffled because she looked away from him for a moment. Harry could have sworn her saw her cheeks turn a little pink, but there wasn't any time to question it. At that moment, a dignified brown owl flew in the window holding some post. He circled the table, dropping a letter and parcel each to Harry, Hermione, and Ron. All three of them opened the letters in unison.
Hermione was the first to speak. "I'm a prefect!" she exclaimed, but she didn't seem completely surprised.
Harry, however, did. "Me too."
"So am I," said Ron. He sounded the most amazed of all.
"Let me see that!" called Fred. He snatched the letter from Ron, and he read it eagerly with George.
"But they always have two from each-" said George. He stood up to throw his and Fred's bowls in the sink.
"Eh, great job, Ron," interrupted Fred. He mussed Ron's still-damp hair as he walked by. He and George looked proud of their little brother, and they walked up the stairs exchanging quiet whispers of astonishment. It wasn't until they were completely out of sight that anyone spoke.
"This is great!" Hermione had a huge smile on her face; it was at least twice as large as the one she had when announcing she had been made a prefect. "I-well, I kind of wanted to be a prefect, but I didn't want the two of you to be left out. This is wonderful!"
"It is," Harry agreed. "We might actually get to spend more time together this year than before."
"Have you seen some of the rooms the prefects get to use?" Hermione lowered her voice. "One of the Ravenclaw prefects showed me their common room last year. It's simply magnificent!"
"Ced-I saw their bathroom last year," said Harry. He cleared his throat. "They have a bathtub comparable to a swimming pool in there."
Harry and Hermione kept on chattering for a few more seconds, but Ron remained strangely quiet.
"Ron, what's wrong?" asked Hermione.
Ron sighed. "The two of you were made to be prefects. I'm sure the only reason Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall made me one was because they didn't want me to feel-don't give me that look! You saw George and Fred! They couldn't believe it!"
"That's not true," said Harry. "You're smart, Ron. Sure, you might get into trouble sometimes, but I'm always involved, too. Don't worry about it. They wouldn't have chosen you if you weren't meant to be a prefect."
"Harry's right, Ron," Hermione said. "Come on, smile. We're going to have great fun next year!"
"Oh yeah," said Ron. He had a sly smile on his face, and he looked a lot happier now that he had his friends' assurances. "We'll have a lot of fun helping enforce the rules."
"Us? Enforce rules?" asked Harry innocently. Ron smirked, but Hermione frowned.
"That is what prefects do," she said. The boys burst out laughing.
* * *
It was a long time before Ron and Harry went upstairs to clean and dress for the day. They had been about to leave the table when Mrs. Weasley had returned, and she had nearly burst with excitement when she found another one of her sons had been made prefect. Mr. Weasley had been called in from outside, and he, too, had expressed his pride in Ron, as well as Harry. By the time the boys were able to get away from the kitchen, the twins and Ginny were on their way back down, all freshly washed.
"I just can't believe it," said Ron again, once they were safely in the confines of his room. "I'm happy that we all get to be prefects, but I just don't understand it."
Harry shrugged. "I'm not totally sure, either. Dumbledore likes the three of us, though. You know that. He also trusts us. I bet that's why."
"Maybe," Ron said. "Percy'll have a heart attack when he hears. He won't dare say a word around Mum and Dad, but he'll give me a lecture about upholding the rules and performing to the best of my abilities and what an honor I've been granted. But I'm sure he'll be glowering on the inside. He was so sure he would be the last prefect in the Weasley family!"
"Why did he move out? I got your very first letter this summer, and you didn't mention it."
Ron scratched his head, obviously trying to remember. "It was that next week," he said finally. "The Ministry needed him on site somewhere, blah blah blah. They've switched him departments, and I didn't care enough to listen. Mum had Pig all tied up then, though, so I couldn't tell you. I kept thinking you'd send Hedwig with something, but she never came."
At the mention of her name, the snowy white owl fluttered a wing in her cage, which was hanging from the ceiling about Harry's bed. Harry pushed a finger through the bars, which she immediately nuzzled. "Hedwig wasn't doing too well this summer," he explained. "I broke one of Aunt Petunia's china plates, and there was hell to pay. Uncle Vernon let her out, and she came back days later, barely alive."
"Poor Hedwig," said Ron, offering Hedwig a finger. Harry's owl had grown much friendly in her recovery.
"I wouldn't be surprised if he had something to do with her injuries," said Harry darkly. "I don't think I can go back there next summer, no matter what Dumbledore says."
"You'll come here," insisted Ron. "I could tell by her first glance at you that Mum had no intention of ever letting you back there."
"Why's that?"
Ron scrunched up his nose. "Look at yourself, Harry," he said. "I'm not trying to be mean, but you don't look so great. There's your arm, and you've got a huge scratch by your eye and a bruise on your chin. That, and you're about as skinny as a pole. You looked like you hadn't eaten a think all summer!"
"Barely," muttered Harry.
"What?"
"Nothing," said Harry quickly. "How was your summer?"
"It was okay," said Ron, but Harry could tell he was a little glum. "It would have been a lot better if you were here. The twins are convinced they're going to open their joke shop after school ends, but don't you tell Mum that. Ginny doesn't want anything to do with anyone, and there's been a lot of misuse of Muggle artifacts this summer. It wasn't so bad, but I can't wait to go back to Hogwarts."
"I can't, either," said Harry, glad that the conversation was shifted from him. It didn't seem like any of them had had a very good summer. He'd been miserable at his aunt and uncle's, Ron hadn't been too keen on being alone at The Burrow, and, even though she hadn't directly said it, Harry had a feeling Hermione hadn't had the greatest time, either. "I think it's going to be a good year. You, Hermione, and I, prefects! Who would have thought?"
"Not me!" Ron said with a laugh. Suddenly, his face changed to look very serious. "Harry? I don't want things to be like last year."
"What do you mean?" Harry was genuinely confused.
"Well, more like the last couple of years. If Hermione and I weren't fighting, you and I were. I don't want it to be like that anymore," confessed Ron. "I just have this feeling that it'll be more important than ever to be friends."
Harry immediately got what he was saying. He had a feeling that Ron was indirectly referring to what happened at Beauxbatons. He nodded. "I agree. A pact, then?"
Ron grinned. "I guess so. Should we inform Hermione of it?"
"It might be a good idea." Harry paused. "Something's changed about her over the summer."
"She's not nearly as bossy, that's for sure," said Ron. "I'm not complaining, though. Hermione's cool."
"Yeah, she is." Harry bit her lip. "It's something else, too, though."
Ron let out a low whistle, followed by a sly grin. "You noticed too?"
"I noticed what?"
"Hermione!" exclaimed Ron as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "She looks like a girl now."
"Ron, aren't you missing something?" asked Harry. He was puzzled. "Hermione is a girl! Of course she's going to look like one!"
Ron laughed. "No, not like that. I guess I mean woman."
Harry sucked in his breath, and he blushed. Ron was right. Hermione had grown up, but, then again, they all had. Ron was still laughing.
"I know, I noticed it too," said Ron, and he grinned slyly. "But I didn't realize what I was noticing until Fred and George said something!"
Harry was blushing furiously at this point. "I didn't mean it like that, Ron!" he muttered, but Ron just kept laughing. He tossed Harry a towel.
"I know. I just couldn't resist the urge to put you on the spot? You and Hermione? Ridiculous!" Ron looked quite pleased with himself. "Now hurry up and get showered! Mum's not going to let me off from chores just because I got made prefect!"
* * *
Twenty minutes later, the two boys, looking much fresher, were back in the kitchen. Hermione, obviously waiting for them, was standing at the counter, flipping through one of Mrs. Weasley's cookbooks. A pudgy little witch on one of the pages seemed quite frustrated with the array of sharp objects zooming around above her head.
"Good!" she exclaimed when she saw Harry and Ron. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to come down again! I offered to help your mum out with anything she might need, but she told me just to wait for the two of you!"
"Mum never wants to let the houseguests work," Ron grumbled, "no offense or anything. I'm just not looking forward to de-gnoming the garden again." Nonetheless, he grinned at Harry, obviously remembering Harry's very first visit to the Burrow. "I've never had a problem before the garden gnomes before this year. Bit me four times last week alone!"
"We'll help you, Ron," Hermione and Harry both said immediately, and Ron smiled. Together, they started to walk towards the garden door of The Burrow. They were standing right in front of the back steps when Ron stopped to tell Hermione about his and Harry's pact. She seemed delighted with the idea.
"I think you're both right. If something should happen-" she stopped herself. "I mean, not that anything is going to happen, but if something did, we wouldn't want to be fighting with each other."
"Times like these require that we stick together," said Ron, making his statement sound overly sincere.
Hermione swatted him. "They do!"
"No fighting, you two, remember?" Harry said with a laugh, but he quickly went back to being somber. He put his hand out.
Hermione placed her hand gently over his, and Ron followed. They shared a look of complete understanding before breaking apart.
The silence was broken from shouts from the other side of the house, in the direction of the shed. "Ron!" Mr. Weasley was shouting, "can you come help me for just a second? I can't quite manage-"
Ron grimaced with the loud crash that followed, and he sent his friends an apologetic look before dashing around the house.
"Meet you out by the garden!" he called.
"I hope everything's okay-" Harry stopped, noticing the strange look Hermione was giving him. "Is something wrong?"
"No," she said, "not really. It's just-"
Hermione reached up, obviously on her toes and touched Harry's hair, obviously patting something back into place. This time, she wore the apologetic smile. "I'm sorry," she said. "Your hair's always unruly, but there was one hair sticking straight up all by itself in back."
Harry smiled. "It's no problem. In fact, I should probably thank you. I didn't bother looking in the mirror this morning."
Hermione laughed as the two of them headed toward the garden.
* * *
The de-gnoming went quickly, partially because Fred and George had gotten to work tossing the gnomes before Ron, Harry, and Hermione had even left the house. The Weasley brothers were all quite good at the task, and all of them got quite a thrill from sending the little devils flying. Hermione had never de-gnomed anything before, but she caught on quickly with a little guidance from Ron and Harry. In no time at all, not a single gnome was peeking out from his hole. The five tumbled back into the house, laughing and joking. It was just past noon, and Mrs. Weasley was busy throwing around various ingredients in the kitchen.
"Sit down at the table!" she called as they came into the kitchen. She caught a stray tomato as it flew by. "I'm running just a tad bit late. They've made a decision at the Ministry, and your father had to go in. He should be home at any minute."
"Do you think they've named a new Minister?" Fred asked, ducking as kitchen knife soaring over the table, dangerously close to his head.
"I suppose that's why he was called it," said Mrs. Weasley, straining to grab another tomato. She wasn't fast enough, and the tomato went whizzing into the wall with a large splat. At the same time, the knife spun when it bounced off the wall, heading back over the table. This time, it was Harry that had to duck.
"Oh dear!" Mrs. Weasley said, whipping out her wand. "I try to keep the magic to a minimum, but it's no use! I'll end up killing someone! I guess it's all or nothing."
"Just do what works best for you, Mum," said Ron, ducking one last time as a variety of kitchen utensils flew back to their usual spots in the drawers and cabinets. "Did Dad say when he'd be back?"
"They sent him an express owl," explained Mrs. Weasley, "important, but it came with the promise that it wouldn't take long."
She went about summoning this and that from the cabinets, pausing every once in a while to throw this or that into the skillet. Ginny, who usually helped her cook, was nowhere to be found, so Hermione jumped in to assist Mrs. Weasley. The boys absorbed themselves in a discussion about Quidditch, and Mrs. Weasley was setting the meal floating the meal to the table just as Mr. Weasley appeared in the kitchen.
"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley called. "Come on downstairs, dear! Your father's home, and lunch is ready!"
The look on Mr. Weasley's face was unreadable as he took his place at the table. A few seconds after he sat down, Ginny rushed down the stairs and followed suit. No one made a move to eat anything; instead, they all directed their attention towards Mr. Weasley.
A sly smile formed on his face. "What are you waiting for?" he asked, reaching for a roll from the center of the table. "Your mother's fixed a lovely lunch, and you're not eating."
At his seemingly stern look, everyone began eating. However, they kept their eyes glued to Mr. Weasley, waiting for him to rely whatever news he had received at the Ministry. He didn't budge until every single person around the table had started to eat.
"Well," he started, "the new Minster has been named on the suggestion of Albus Dumbledore. Sagesse Bom will be Fudge's replacement, effective immediately."
"Sagesse Bom?" Mutters and whispers erupted around the table, and Harry shot Hermione and Ron a confused look. He figured that he was only confused because he had not grown up with news of the wizarding world, but he realized it wasn't so when he saw that all of the Weasleys were also perplexed.
"Who's Sagesse Bom, Dad?" asked George. "I've never heard of him before."
"Neither have I," volunteered Fred. "Has he worked in the Ministry long?"
"Barely a part of the Ministry in the eyes of most, Fred," said Mr. Weasley with a peculiar smile. "Bom trained at Hogwarts directly under Dumbledore's guidance a few years after your mother and I. He would have been there at the same time as your father, Harry."
His statement brought even more confusion to the table. "Don't get me wrong, I trust Dumbledore," said Mrs. Weasley, "but why not elect someone higher in the Ministry?"
"Frankly, no one in the Ministry is brave enough to take responsibility at a time like this," said Mr. Weasley seriously. "Dumbledore was the most obvious choice, but he won't turn his back on Hogwarts. He feels that Bom would be able to handle the job, and I'm apt to agree with whatever he thinks is best. Dumbledore is a wise wizard, and he usually knows best on these sort of matters."
Everyone nodded in agreement. After the brief pause, Ron spoke. "So what's he been doing since he left from Hogwarts?"
"Fighting the Dark Arts," said Mr. Weasley vaguely before turning to his wife. "Excellent meal, Molly, as always. Bom has been working as an Auror since leaving Hogwarts, but he was to return this year as the new Defense teacher, which is why I have so much faith in someone I've never met. If Dumbledore was willing to sacrifice the teacher for a subject that has gone through so many, Bom must be just what the Ministry needs."
* * *
"Ron?" This time, it was Harry who rolled over because he couldn't sleep.
"Just like last night," muttered Ron. "You can't sleep, either?"
"No, I can't. I can't stop thinking about what your dad said at lunch today," Harry admitted.
"Imagine that," said Ron. "Sagesse Bom? I reckon Dumbledore's finally cracked. He had to know what was happening at your aunt and uncle's, but he still wouldn't let you come stay with us. Then, he made us all prefects! Hermione anyone can justify, we're in trouble at least half the time. Now, he convinces the Ministry an Auror to the highest position?"
"It all sounds a little crazy, doesn't it?" responded Harry.
"Are you starting to wonder if old Dumbledore has gone nutters, too?"
"Well," started Harry. "Maybe he's not going crazy, but it all sounds a little peculiar when you put it like that. I still trust him, through."
There was a sigh from the other side of the room. "I know. I do, too. I just don't get it. What if this Bom character isn't who Dumbledore thinks he is?"
Harry didn't get a chance to answer because he was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Harry? Ron? It's me again."
"Just like last night? Maybe Divination really is your subject, Ron." Even though Ron couldn't see it in the darkness, Harry grinned at his best friend as he hopped off his bed to let Hermione in.
"I'm sorry to bother you again," she whispered as she tiptoed across the room and sat down next to Harry on his bed. Ron had already tossed her the same blanket from the night before, and she gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Ron. It's unusually cold for summer up in your sister's bedroom."
"Ginny out like a log again?"
"Yes, except I've never known a log to snore like she does." The boys snickered as Hermione unfolded the blanket and wrapped it around herself. "I didn't wake you, did I?"
"No," said Ron. "We were both still up."
"We wouldn't have heard you if we weren't. I'm sure Ginny's snoring is nothing compared to Ron's." Harry ducked, but the pillow Ron sent hurling in his direction still hit him square in the chest. He tossed it back.
"I just can't believe this about Sagesse Bom. I know Fudge put great trust in Dumbledore's ideas, but I had no idea that the same went for the rest of the Ministry," whispered Hermione. "I feel better knowing Dumbledore approves of Bom, but something about the whole situation doesn't feel right."
"I wonder what he would've been like as a Defense teacher," said Ron.
"And, even more important, who will the Defense professor be now?" added Harry.
"Four days isn't very long to find a new teacher," said Hermione. "It's even shorter when you consider how many Dark Arts professors Hogwarts has been through in the last four years."
"Snape might finally have the chance he's been looking for," said Harry grimly. "Hopefully, there isn't anyone to fill the Potions position, either."
"Maybe Gilderoy Lockhart is back to his old self by now. He could be the Defense professor again," teased Ron. Even in the near darkness, Harry caught the flush of pink that rose to Hermione's cheeks.
"Oh, quiet," warned Hermione. "I doubt it will be any of our old professors."
"I wonder if we'll ever have a Dark Ages professor that lasts more than a year," said Harry, shifting positions because his leg was starting to fall asleep. When he accidentally brushed again Hermione, he quickly muttered an apology.
"I just have a feeling it's going to be different this year," said Hermione quietly. "Everything, I mean, not just the Dark Arts professor."
"It seems as if everything is changing," Harry agreed.
"Tell me about it." Hermione, who was sitting cross-legged, rested her elbow on her knee and her chin in the palm of her hand. She looked off to the side.
"Is something wrong, Hermione?" Harry asked.
"It's really nothing, Harry," said Hermione. She pulled the blanket tighter. "I probably should be leaving."
She started to stand, but she sat back down when Harry touched her shoulder. "You don't have to, not if you don't want to. Come on, what's wrong?"
A loud snore came from Ron's side of the room, prompting Harry and Hermione to share a smile. "How does he do that?" Hermione muttered. She turned to Harry. "I don't want to wake him."
Harry shrugged. "Trust me, he won't wake up. Ron over there could sleep through just about anything. Just talk quietly. What's wrong?"
"Harry, honestly, it's nothing," Hermione insisted. "I'm not about to complain about my summer when you had to spend yours with those horrible Dursleys. Merlin only knows how they were treating you!"
"It's okay, Hermione. I got through it-without the intention of ever going back, mind you, but I still got through it. I want to know what's bugging you."
"Oh Harry," Hermione sighed. "I feel awful complaining. My parents are wonderful, they love me, and Angelica isn't bad. It's just... it's nothing. I'm sure I'm just making too big of a deal over this."
"Hermione," said Harry, a hint of warning in her voice.
"Well, I don't really want to take anything out on Angelica because it's not her fault, but it's really not my parents' fault, either. They're usually so excited to hear about my year, but they never asked about it once over the holiday. Angelica was born just a few days after I got back. They expected me to help them with everything concerning her, and I hadn't even known before that my mum was pregnant. It... Oh, I must sound so silly!"
"You don't sound silly," Harry insisted. "Now what were you saying?"
Hermione sighed. "At first, I guessed I was just jealous of all the attention Angelica was getting because I wasn't used to sharing my parents with anyone else, but that theory stopped making sense because I just adore my baby sister. Somewhere in there, Mum started criticizing everything about me. First, she just disapproved of the amount of sweets I ate all the time, but before long, she was making comments about my weight and hair and asking me why I never wore any makeup. Soon, she started talking about how awful my appearance was in general.
"It just went downhill from that. She didn't want to hear a single thing about Hogwarts, be it you or Ron or the grades I pulled. She started accusing me of doing things I hadn't done, and she constantly demanded me to help with the baby. My dad eventually started doing the same thing. I just don't get it, Harry. It doesn't make any sense! I can't ever remember my parents acting like that before."
Harry did the only thing that felt right at that moment, which was to put his arm around Hermione. She didn't protest his gesture and rested her head against his shoulder. He could tell by her tone that she was on the verge of tears, and he couldn't blame her. He'd never heard Hermione speak anything but the best of her parents, so she was right in saying their recent behavior made no sense.
"They don't want me to be a witch," said Hermione. "Mum finally told me that three days ago, right before I left for here. She said that she and Dad have been talking about it for a long time, and they don't think it's a good idea anymore. Do you think they're right? I don't want to make them angry, but I've never been happier than I am when at Hogwarts. I love you and Ron and all the professors, even Snape. I love my classes and the Fat Lady and the ghosts. I never felt this happy at home. I didn't have any friends. I was just Know-It-All Hermione, the ugly girl with buck teeth and bushy-"
"Hermione?" interrupted Harry.
"What?"
"You're a great witch, the best I know. You belong at Hogwarts, no matter what they say. It's obvious, and they'll see it soon enough."
"Do you really mean it?"
"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it, Hermione," said Harry. "I'm not going to lie to you. You should know that."
There was a moment of silence, but it didn't seem uncomfortable. "Thank you," said Hermione finally. "That's one worry out of the way."
Harry released her, and she had turned to face him. "One? What, do you have another?"
"Not exactly..."
"Don't make me drag it out of you again. Wasn't once enough?"
"It has to do with Viktor," said Hermione softly.
"Viktor Krum? That's right," said Harry, "I was meaning to ask you what happened. I thought you were going to visit him this summer."
"I did." Hermione looked away again.
Harry didn't try to turn her, but he did rest his hand on her shoulder. "I thought Ron said you didn't."
"Yes," said Hermione. She sounded kind of ashamed. "That's what I wrote in my letter. I didn't want to trouble the two of you."
"What happened?"
"Nothing, really," said Hermione. "I guess Viktor and I just aren't right for each other. I felt uncomfortable the second I arrived. He wanted too much from me, and there was something that-"
"There was something that what, Hermione?" asked Harry, wondering why she stopped suddenly.
"Nothing." Hermione had stood up. "I'd better go back up to Ginny's room. I doubt Ron's parents would be happy to find me here. Thank you so much for listening, Harry. I feel much better."
She hugged him, just as she had the night before, and she was gone as quickly as she had arrived. Harry was left sitting upright on his bed, wondering what had suddenly made Hermione so nervous.
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