Hermione's Heart

HERMIONE'S HEART, PART 6: Open Secrets

Settled comfortably in her chair, Hermione scanned the writing on the old scrapbook page. It was just a few lines captioning the picture, and written in a younger hand, but it was still the unmistakable, bold stroke of Minerva McGonagall.

Me (Minerva), Polly, and Professor Dumbledore

, read the caption. Hermione turned the brittle page. Now she was looking at a Quidditch team photo, everyone posed rather solemnly with broomsticks in their right hands. Hermione located McGonagall again, as well as her friend. The entire roster was listed. Polly Plantagenet. Both she and Minerva had been Chasers. Hermione skipped through the pages, growing a little more anxious. How were old snapshots going to answer any of her questions? Unless there were wedding pictures to come? Hermione flipped through the album. With the exception of the Quidditch photo, all the pictures were of either Minerva and Polly, Minerva and Dumbledore, or the three of them.

Hermione turned back to the first picture and traced her finger along the script, wondering just how many years ago Minerva had penned this. As her fingers touched the page, the old writing faded and a more recognizable hand shone through. Hermione stared. She had read about this complicated palimpsest enchantment, designed to respond only to the touch of the designated reader, but knew it was too complicated to be done by any but the most skilled witch or wizard. Professor McGonagall had obviously written over the original script just for her.

What had seemed to be merely captions gave way to Minerva McGonagall's narrative of her last few months as a Hogwarts student, and the months immediately after she left school. Hermione read so quickly her vision blurred, read how Minerva and Polly had been best friends, and then more. Polly had been ambitious. Although her family expected her to marry another Hogwarts graduate, Andrew McKinnon, the summer after leaving Hogwarts, she'd begged Minerva to come away with her - to live together in Muggle London - where they could avoid Polly's father, who would be certain to search for her.

Although I had doubts about Polly's plan, I couldn't say no to her

, wrote Minerva. She was the kind of person who made you want to do what she suggested, and who made you believe her often impractical ideas could work. So after we finished our last year at Hogwarts, she slipped out of a Diagon Alley shop and away from her mother while buying her trousseau, and apparated to an agreed-upon place in London. I had to go undercover as my animagus self and live mostly as a cat to avoid being caught. Polly's father was Minister of Magic at the time, and we knew he would stop at nothing to find her, extending his search to the Muggle world. Two girls living together might have been easier to identify, but a single girl with a cat was more anonymous.

However, this living situation created its own kind of strain. While Polly got a job as a reporter - long her ambition - I had no work. Living as a cat lost its charm for me quite quickly, and living with a cat seemed to lose its charm for Polly, who took to complaining about excess fur on her robes and her Muggle clothes. We lived in constant dread of being found out - even when I assumed my proper form, I had to be ready to transform at a moment's notice. Polly became increasingly paranoid about someone seeing me as a human. We were completely isolated from the magical community, and from other witches who might have been of help to us. It was in these circumstances that I received a letter from Albus Dumbledore.

It seems foolish as I write this now, but while I was at Hogwarts, I had an enormous crush on Dumbledore. He was my Transfiguration teacher, and I wanted nothing more than to be his star pupil. The letter explained he had just been appointed Headmaster, and offered me the newly vacant post of Transfiguration teacher. Polly knew I'd had feelings for him, and was furious at my even considering taking the position. I became angry - she had a job of her own, I had only a litterbox and a few stolen moments alone with her. I wanted my own work, and I wanted to live with her on more open terms. Polly issued an ultimatum - Dumbledore or herself.

I never had to make that choice because shortly thereafter, Polly's father found her. When faced with the reality of losing her, I realised she was in fact the one with whom I wanted to be. All our arguments seemed so petty in the face of being parted forever. I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye to her; nobody noticed a tabby cat in all the commotion. I saw her once after that - at her wedding. She cried through the entire ceremony, but everyone else attributed it to nerves. I saw her for a moment alone after the service, and told her how I felt, but by then it was far too late. When she kissed me goodbye, she had stopped crying, and looked resigned. She moved with McKinnon to Edinburgh and I never saw her again.

Needless to say, I accepted the job at Hogwarts. Despite the heartbreak over Polly, working alongside Dumbledore proved very heady. Finally we were interacting as equals, rather than merely student and teacher. And ironically, he seemed to be seeing me in an entirely new light. I had daydreamed of his falling in love with me as a schoolgirl; when it finally happened, the reality was more bittersweet than I could ever have imagined. I tried to make a go of it. After all, Polly was married and I knew my life would be much easier if I could just be like everyone else. Try as I might, however, I never felt the same kind of passion for Albus as I had for Polly. He knew it, too, and the relationship ended.

People used to call what Polly and I had a romantic friendship, but when she was taken away from me I knew I loved her as more than a friend. And I knew she had loved me too, no matter how much she complained about furballs. So when you asked me, Miss Granger, if I had ever been married, the simple answer would have been 'no.' But your question made me think back on memories I had not pondered in many years, and on reflection, I felt you deserved a more complete answer. I hope I have now provided that.

**

Hermione closed the slim volume with a snap, her head spinning. No sooner had she shut the book than Cho's mother began knocking urgently on the door. "Cho! Hermione! Are you in there?"

Terrified, Hermione threw herself off the chair, stuffed the book into her bag and grabbed her wand. She lunged for Cho's dressing gown, and with a wave of her wand, sent it flying to her just-awakened girlfriend. "Just a minute!"

Cho looked groggy as the dressing gown caught her in the face, but hearing her mother's voice, she snapped to attention and shrugged it on. She grabbed her wand from the bedside and opened the door.

Mrs Chang practically fell inside. "Locking the door again?"

"Well, it's safest, isn't it?" Cho sat up in bed and looked innocently at her mother.

Hermione sneaked a look around the room. What would Cho's mother think of the shoes thrown about, the trail of clothes leading towards Cho's bed?

But Cho's mother seemed oblivious. "I wish you'd let me know when you got in last night," she scolded. "I was so worried."

"Relax, Mum. You worry too much." Cho yawned hugely and stretched.

Her mother was not so easily placated. "You'll worry, too, when you're in my position. And when you see this morning's news," she added, concern returning to her face again.

"What happened?" asked Hermione.

But Mrs Chang didn't seem to hear her. Instead, she was walking towards Cho's bed. With horror, Hermione realized she intended to look underneath it. Having no idea which articles of clothing might have found their way there, Hermione gestured frantically to Cho to do something.

"Mum, what are you doing?" asked Cho, as her mother bent down.

Mrs Chang straightened up and put her hands on her hips. "I want you to clean under your bed before you leave. You didn't do it before you left for school and when I came to air the room before your visit, a Boggart had moved in. I don't need that sort of shock again, young lady." She surveyed the bedroom and added, "And I trust you will clean up this mess before tomorrow. Everything's got to fit in your trunks, you know."

"Of course. We'll pack this afternoon."

"It's almost noon now! When you didn't come down for breakfast I was worried." Mrs Chang shook her head. "Well, hurry up and get dressed. I have a fun surprise for you!"

Hermione and Cho exchanged looks. "What's that, Mum?" asked Cho, sliding out of bed.

"I thought we could take a trip to Diagon Alley!" Mrs Chang looked at the two girls expectantly. "We can pick up any school supplies that need refilling, and perhaps even get dessert at Florian Fortesque's. How does that sound?"

"Erm, great," Cho said weakly. "We'll be down as soon as we've showered."

Watching her mother's retreating back, Cho said to Hermione, "See what I mean? Still thinks I'm eleven. Like taking us for ice cream in January is a big treat."

"She means well," offered Hermione. She desperately wanted someone to talk to about what she'd just read, but unfortunately this was hardly the moment.

"Maybe." Cho rested her gaze on Hermione and smiled. "So what were you doing up already?"

"It's not so early. It is nearly noon."

"Yeah, but I didn't notice you lying naked in bed. Where you should have been," Cho added with a smile.

"I was, uh, reading."

"Reading?" Cho raised her eyebrows. "Should I be insulted?"

"No, not at all!" Hermione blushed and looked away, memories of last night flooding over her. "I just couldn't sleep, that's all."

"Girls! I don't hear water running!" trilled Cho's mother from down the hall.

"Go ahead, have the first shower," offered Cho.

"Thanks." Hermione ducked into the bathroom and turned on the water. Her mind raced as she shampooed her hair. What exactly was Minerva McGonagall trying to tell her?

Downstairs, Mrs Chang insisted they at least have some toast and fruit-juice before setting off. Hermione took the opportunity to scan the Daily Prophet headlines. Death Eaters Strike! she read. Hermione skimmed the article and felt a chill come over her as she read how more pro-Voldemort graffitti had appeared last night, also containing slurs against Muggle-borns. Several shops had been vandalized and robbed, including some at the top of Knockturn Alley. She and Cho must have just missed it.

Sliding the paper over to Cho, Hermione addressed Mrs Chang. "Have you ever heard of someone named Polly Plantagenet?"

"Plantagenet...Now there's a name I haven't heard in a long time," reflected Mrs Chang. "Very old family. But I think most of them are gone now. Killed the first time You-Know-Who rose to power." Mrs Chang shook her head. "A real loss."

"Are there any of them still left?" Hermione persisted.

"Could be. One of your professors might know." Mrs Chang spotted Cho reading the newspaper and scowled. "Do you see why I don't want you going out in the magical world alone?"

"You're taking us to Diagon Alley," retorted Cho. "What makes you think it's so safe now?"

"We're not going anywhere near Knockturn Alley. That's a very dodgy area. Now put on your cloaks and let's go."

Hermione and Cho once again looked at each other. Hermione knew Cho was thinking the same thing she was: could Draco Malfoy have had anything to do with the graffitti? But they had no time to discuss the matter. Mrs Chang removed an elegant vase from the mantlepiece and scattered Floo powder into the fireplace. "Diagon Alley!" she shouted, grabbed the girls' hands, and jumped into the fire.

They emerged moments later, stumbling out of the fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron. Dusting themselves off, they set off for Flourish and Blotts to pick up some more parchment. Mrs Chang cut a stylish figure as they sauntered through the shops, dressed in patterned silk robes trimmed with dark green velvet. The girls purchased a few necessities, and the group proceeded to Fortesque's restaurant. Hermione had never been here in winter. It seemed strange to have the umbrellas and outdoor tables all packed up, but indoors was comfortable enough. She and Cho split an order of chocolate cake and were about to sit down when Mrs Chang said, "I need to drop off some fabric swatches for Madam Malkin. You girls enjoy your cake. I'll be right back."

Cho watched her mother leave with a sour expression. "At last."

"She's not so bad."

Hermione glanced over at Florian Fortesque and had an idea. Harry had told her how the friendly proprietor had proved to be a wealth of information about medieval witch burning. Perhaps he knew something about Polly Plantagenet.

"I'll be right back," she said to Cho, and approached the counter.

After a little small talk, Hermione came to the point. "Did you ever know someone named Polly Plantagenet?"

Fortesque had been polishing a parfait glass while they talked, and at Hermione's question nearly dropped it. "Where did you come across that name?"

"Just reading."

He whistled and shook his head. "Been a long time since I've thought about her. Used to come in here when she was about your age, but that was decades ago. Terrible tragedy."

"Really? What happened?" Hermione tried not to sound too eager.

"Everyone knew she didn't want to marry McKinnon. Wonderful lad, but I guess he just wasn't the one for her. Anyway, she tried to run away, right after leaving Hogwarts, but of course, her father being who he was found her. Spirit seemed completely broken, and she went through with the marriage. They were happy enough, I guess, lived a quiet life up in Scotland. It was a real shame. Two big wizarding families - should have been a perfect match. Then years later You-Know-Who came to power." Here Florian shuddered and glanced around as if he expected to see Voldemort walk through the door and demand a sundae. "Killings like you never saw. Worse than now. Wiped out nearly all the McKinnons."

"And Polly?"

He regarded Hermione with surprise. "Nobody survives an attack by the Dark Lord. Polly McKinnon has been dead for over twenty years."

**

Hermione was almost bursting with impatience to be alone with Cho, but for once this had nothing to do with hormones. She simply had to tell her about what she'd seen in the book and what she'd learned in Diagon Alley.

As the girls packed their trunks, Hermione outlined the situation, taking care to emphasize the fact that she'd had the book weeks before actually opening it. Cho appeared mildly disturbed at learning their teacher had had any kind of love life, tortured or otherwise, but showed no jealousy. "Wild," was her only comment.

"Do you think we're like that - a romantic friendship?" Hermione asked.

Cho raised an eyebrow suggestively. "It's certainly romantic, but also certainly beyond friendship, wouldn't you say?"

Recalling the events of New Year's Eve, Hermione blushed. Cho was right. "So why do you think she wrote that stuff?"

"To tell you not to make the same mistake?" Cho guessed, sitting on her trunk and trying to make the locks fasten. "And not to fall for your Transfiguration teacher," she added, hair falling across her face as she bent over the locks.

"I guess. But things are totally different now. I wouldn't have to live as a cat so we could be together." Hermione sat on her own trunk and assumed a dreamy expression. "She must've felt tremendously sad, when Polly was killed." She shuddered. "There must be someone at Hogwarts who could fill that void . . . what do you know about Professor Vector?"

"Come and sit on this while I try to lock it." Cho strained with the closures. "We are not," she said at last, as the locks snapped shut, "playing matchmaker. We've got enough to think about with all this newfound junior-Death Eater activity."

"Reckon we should tell Harry?" asked Hermione, struggling with her own bags.

"Dunno. It's not like anyone's done anything at Hogwarts. I mean, every year Harry's been at school something or someone has tried to kill him. Be nice if he could get through one year without facing mortal danger. Let's talk about it on the journey back."

The girls dragged their belongings out to the landing. "You dropped this." Cho held out a newspaper cutting to Hermione. "What is this anyway?" she asked, examining the photo more closely.

"My mother won an award from the dental association. My father sent the cutting along."

"Your mother?" Cho continued to stare at a photograph of a panther, underneath the headline of Panther Stolen from Zoo. "Why isn't anything moving?"

"Muggle photographs don't move," Hermione explained, reaching for the cutting and turning it over. "And that's a panther, not my mother. You're reading the wrong side."

"Oh." Cho inspected the correct photo with interest and looked over at Hermione with a smile.

Suddenly embarrassed at the scrutiny, Hermione pointed to the more active photographs adorning the wall and asked, "Who are they?" while gesturing to several young witches and a boy wizard. He kept making faces from the frame.

Cho glanced up and handed over the cutting. "Oh, those are my cousins. They live in Hong Kong. That's my cousin Winston. He's ten and a total pain."

"Girls! Get those trunks downstairs now or we'll miss the train!" Cho's mother called from the bottom of the staircase. Hermione stuffed the bit of newspaper back in her pocket, picked up her luggage and followed Cho downstairs.

**

As darkness fell and the train drew nearer to Hogsmeade Station, Cho and Hermione had talked themselves out. They sat in companionable silence, fingers entwined, leaning against each other. In an hour, Hermione knew she would be facing Ron and Harry. She and Cho had agreed to tell them about seeing Malfoy near the scene of the vandalism, but Hermione also knew the boys would be expecting to hear new information on Cho's love life, and she wasn't sure just what she was going to say.

When Hermione dragged herself through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room, Ron and Harry were waiting for her. Everyone else had already gone down to dinner.

"Well?" asked Ron expectantly. "Who is it? Who's Cho seeing now?"

Hermione stood facing the two boys. For months she had thought about this moment, how she would phrase things, how she would make them understand.

"It's me - she's in love with me," she blurted, explanations and careful phrasings falling by the wayside.

Harry and Ron stared incredulously. From the expressions on their faces, Hermione might have just spoken to them in Mermish.

Ron found his voice first. "She invited you to her place to tell you that?" he gasped.

"No." Hermione glanced over at Harry, whose face looked ashen. In a lower voice she added, "She told me ages ago."

"What did you say?" Ron persisted.

"I said I felt the same way." Hermione's voice was now so low as to be barely audible.

Ron stared again, absorbing this information. Harry remained strangely expressionless. "But you - you didn't actually do anything about it, did you?" Ron's voice grew higher with each question.

Hermione dropped her eyes and could feel a flush creeping over her. "I'm sorry, Harry. I wanted to tell you earlier, I did." She looked up at him imploringly. "It just sort of . . . happened."

"So this is why Cho dumped me?" Harry finally spoke and when he did, his voice held an unmistakable note of bitterness. "Because of you two?"

Hermione nodded.

Ron had collapsed into an armchair, but Harry was now pacing around them.

"Harry -" Hermione began, but he cut her off.

"If you don't mind, I think I'd like to be alone for a while."

"But -" Hermione wanted to tell him about the Death Eaters, explain there were more important things going on -

"Alone. As in nobody else around." He looked her straight in the eye, his own green eyes glittering brightly, but whether he was angry or sad Hermione couldn't tell.

"C'mon." Ron grabbed her arm. "Let's go eat."

Still looking back at Harry, Hermione allowed herself to be led towards the portrait hole and down to the Great Hall. Dinner was a silent affair for herself and Ron. Around them, the rest of the school was noisily recounting their holidays, but Hermione ate quickly and spoke to no one. Ron often looked over at her as if he wanted to say something, but didn't.

As they left, Hermione caught Cho's eye. Cho flashed her a quick smile before returning to her conversation at the Ravenclaw table. Ron noticed, and scowling at Hermione, dragged her away to a quiet corner of the castle.

"So you and Cho really -" he broke off, looking embarrassed.

"Yes, Ron," Hermione replied, impatient to be gone.

"I just don't get it." He shook his head. "Is that why you broke up with me last year? You liked girls instead?"

"No," she said, more kindly. "I didn't really know then. Cho and I -" Now Hermione stopped and sighed. "We just work, okay?"

"If you say so." Ron continued to eye her with wonder, then suddenly dropped his eyes and muttered, "So were you just disgusted when I used to kiss you?"

Hermione suddenly understood what had been bothering him. "Ron, you did not make me gay. It doesn't work that way. My liking Cho has nothing to do with you. She's just who I want to be with now."

He looked back up at her, his face both sad and puzzled. "I'm going to check that Harry's alright. See you later."

He turned to go, but stopped when Hermione said, "Ron, wait."

"What?"

With a wry smile, Hermione told him, "You were a good kisser. Just so you know."

Ron didn't say anything, but Hermione saw his ears turn pink and knew he was pleased she'd said something. "I'd better go," he repeated.

Hermione watched him hurry away, then headed for the empty Charms room where she and Cho had agreed to meet after dinner.

Cho was already waiting. "What was going on at dinner?" she asked, looking concerned.

"I told them." Hermione leaned against Cho and recounted what had happened in the common room. Cho listened without interrupting, absent-mindedly stroking Hermione's hair.

"And I didn't even get a chance to tell him about the Death Eater stuff and how we saw Malfoy -"

"Well, you have to admit, it's a bit of a shock for him," reasoned Cho. "You can't expect to just announce you've been carrying on with his ex-girlfriend and move on to the next item of business. Give him some time. How'd Ron take it?"

"Alright, I guess. He didn't seem angry, just kind of dumbfounded."

"That's good, then. Let's just hope things stay quiet, and they'll come around, you'll see."

**

But things didn't stay quiet. If Harry and Cho had been one of the school's most high profile couples, Hermione and Cho quickly found themselves one of the most notorious. Hermione felt certain neither Ron nor Harry had said anything, but somehow the whole school seemed to have figured things out. She supposed it didn't help that Harry had essentially stopped talking to her and could only give her a pained look if she tried to speak to him. Or that Ron constantly badgered her with questions regarding her new-found sapphic tendencies. Their question and answer sessions tended to break down into bicker-fests, and lately had concluded with Ron stomping off while saying 'I don't see how you could do this to Harry.'

The rest of the Gryffindors treated her with a cautious respect. No one hassled her, but nobody really talked to her, either. The one exception was Neville, who remained as friendly as ever, but Hermione strongly suspected he was concerned only with learning the new common room passwords.

Cho seemed to fare better. She'd always been very popular, and rather than detract from her mystique, this latest news merely seemed to add to it. Her phalanx of Ravenclaw friends accompanied her where ever she went, forming a human shield against anyone who might say a bad word about her.

Predictably, the Slytherin contingent had nothing positive to say. Pansy Parkinson went out of her way to confront Hermione as they walked back from Care of Magical Creatures one day. "I think what you're doing is disgusting. I didn't think a mudblood could sink much lower, but trust you to find a way."

Hermione stared at Pansy. It struck her that some people might consider the girl attractive - her hair parted perfectly in the middle and was the sort of hair that did anything. She had even features and a small, upturned nose. Yes, she could almost pass for pretty if it weren't for the viciousness that always lingered behind her eyes, giving her a hard look, or the smugness that dominated her entire aspect, or the way her lower jaw always stuck out so unpleasantly. Having grown up with dentists, Hermione knew an underbite when she saw one. She walked away without saying anything.

"Did you see that?" Did you see how she was looking at me?" screeched Pansy, enraged at Hermione's lack of response. "People like that shouldn't be allowed!"

Perhaps the worst was Malfoy, who announced loudly in the corridor between lessons, "Just so you know, Granger, I have no objections to whatever it is you do with Cho Chang - as long as you let me watch," he leered. "Yes, that should be quite a show. Let Potter in on it, do you?" he added as Harry drew near.

"Shut up, Malfoy," muttered Hermione.

"What - only private performances?" He turned to Harry. "Tell me, Potter - how much to watch these two qu -"

WHAM! Before Malfoy could finish, Harry had drawn his wand and slammed Malfoy backwards against the stone wall. "Keep your filthy ideas to yourself," he growled between clenched teeth.

Crabbe and Goyle took a menacing step forward, their own wands trained on Harry. People began to gather around them. Hermione drew in her breath as Ron came skidding up in front of them, looking from Harry to Malfoy to Hermione.

"Ah, Weasley," Malfoy sneered, ignoring Harry. "Nice of you to join us. Not that you'll be of any help, of course. I'm sure you couldn't afford to watch Granger's little exotica shows - unless she's giving it to you for free?"

That was it - Hermione and Ron simultaneously took aim at Malfoy, while the entire group of surrounding Gryffindors began brawling with nearby Slytherins. The melee lasted only a moment, however, before Professor McGonagall came storming down the corridor and broke it up.

"What on earth?" she demanded as the scene cleared. Malfoy had come off the worse, and lay slumped against the wall, hideous boils breaking out all over him. Hermione had hit him with the Weeping Wound hex, resulting not only in oozing sores, but sores that made a particularly disgusting sucking sound. Harry had a cut lip and Ron's cheek had been grazed with wandfire. Only Hermione stood unharmed, her wand raised in a most incriminating manner.

"Malfoy, Potter, Weasley - go to the Infirmary at once. I will meet you there in a few minutes. Miss Granger, my office. Now," she added, when Hermione remained rooted to the spot.

The small knot of students broke up, and Hermione had no choice but to slink after McGonagall.

"Sit." Professor McGonagall pointed at a heavy wooden chair in front of her desk, and Hermione sat. That formality taken care of, the teacher appeared at a loss for words. "Explain," she finally said, and Hermione retold the story as delicately as possible, eyes on the floor the whole time.

"I see," Professor McGonagall said when Hermione had finished. "However noble it was of you to defend Miss Chang's virtue, as well as your own, the corridors of this school are not a dueling club. And I need hardly say that I am shocked - shocked - that a prefect such as yourself would engage in such activity. However, given the nature of the, er, provocation, I will let you off with a warning. For now," she added, giving Hermione a very serious look. "Any further incidents of this sort, Miss Granger, and you will have to appear before the prefect council. Understood?"

Hermione nodded, afraid to breathe lest McGonagall change her mind.

"One more thing," the professor said as Hermione's hand was on the door. "I know this is probably asking the impossible, given yours and Potter's track records, but in the future, should a student harass you, promise me you will report it to a teacher rather than take matters into your own hands."

"I will." Hermione crept out the door.

When Hermione stepped into the Gryffindor common room that evening, everyone turned, stood up and applauded her. Shouts of congratulations filled the air while Hermione stood in the middle of the room, bewildered. Even Harry came over and clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Malfoy's going to be in the infirmary for a week thanks to that last hex of yours," he said, grinning. "You're a hero. Or should I say, heroine."

Hermione stared about her. For the past couple of weeks she had received nothing but wary eye contact and remote politeness, and suddenly her fellow Gryffindors were cheering her.

"Ordinarily I'd find it troubling that one prejudice has been defeated by another, more enduring hatred," she told Harry, "but after what's happened today I'm willing to make an exception."

Later that evening she ran into Cho while on prefect duty. Cho had evidently heard about the altercation, for when she saw Hermione, a huge smile lit up her face. "Heard what you did to Malfoy," she said jauntily, draping an arm around Hermione and spinning her around the empty landing. "Does this mean my girlfriend is tougher than Pansy Parkinson's boyfriend?"

"Looks like it."

"Mmm." Cho stopped spinning and seized the front of Hermione's robes, pulling her close. "I think this new butch side of you could grow on me," she murmured.

"You think so?" Hermione smiled back at her coyly. She leaned forward and felt Cho's lips on her own. Although moments earlier she had found the castle drafty and cold, a sudden rush of warmth overcame her.

"Miss Chang! Miss Granger!" The two girls broke apart at the sound of Professor McGonagall's voice. She was looking at them crossly. "I trust you two know the rules regarding public displays of affection," she scolded.

Hermione and Cho gave their teacher sheepish looks. Despite her tone, McGonagall was eyeing them with an almost indulgent expression. "You'd best get back to your dormitories," she said. "I'll take over here."

Nodding respectfully, Hermione and Cho made a hasty departure. When they were several flights of stairs away, Cho turned to Hermione. "That was unexpected."

"At least it wasn't Snape." Hermione shuddered as she contemplated that scenario. Still, there was something rather novel about being told off for kissing a girl in the corridors.

"Yeah." Cho seemed unconcerned about the prospect of being found by Snape. Clearly her mind was elsewhere. "You know, now that Harry's come round, we ought to tell him about what we saw on New Year's Eve. Malfoy's just the type to start his own Young Death Eaters group here. And after the way he's treated you, I'd give anything to take my own revenge on him." Cho's expression had become stormy while she spoke.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something calming, but the events of that afternoon remained too vivid. Recalling the hot surge of anger she had felt on hearing Malfoy's insults, she decided Cho was right. As she trudged along to her dormitory, Hermione decided even Weeping Wounds weren't enough punishment for Malfoy if he'd had anything to do with aiding Death Eaters.

**

As winter thawed and warmed into spring, Harry's attitude towards Hermione also warmed considerably. He'd been friendly to her since the Malfoy-hexing incident, but it still took time for things to feel completely normal again between them. As the weeks sped by, however, they began to slip back into their old routine, Hermione and Cho ceased to be the main subjects of gossip, and Ron and Harry both agreed the girls were on to something trying to track the Death Eater actions.

Ron had been most excited when Hermione and Cho told him about spotting Malfoy near the scene of at least one crime, but as Harry pointed out the girls had also been there and they weren't at fault. Their inability to find any hard evidence against Malfoy made both Ron and Cho decidedly cross. And strangely, the attacks seemed to have stopped by February, almost as if someone knew they were being watched. The one advantage to this temporary reprieve, as Cho pointed out, was the possibility that they might get through an entire school year without any menace appearing on or near Hogwarts.

"Not if you count Malfoy," said Ron morosely as he picked his way across the muddy path to Hagrid's hut. He still nursed the hope they would come across a completely incriminating piece of evidence that would lead to Malfoy's expulsion.

"Well, we've been dealing with him for years," said Harry, "and he hardly counts as a source of mortal danger. Especially after what Hermione did to him. Seems to have lost his nerve a bit, wouldn't you say?"

They all snickered in satisfaction. Draco Malfoy had been markedly subdued after being released from Madam Pomfrey's care, and had not so much as glared at Hermione since then. Besides, this was the first day to carry a bare whiff of spring, and none of them could stay focused on gloomy thoughts for too long. The ground was softening under their feet, and they had all left off their gloves on setting out to visit Hagrid. Hermione and Cho walked hand in hand alongside the two boys, who had become increasingly accustomed to such behavior. The first time Cho had taken Hermione's hand in their presence Ron stared so hard the girls had pulled apart instantly, but neither Ron nor Harry seemed to pay much attention now.

They pulled up short, however, when Hagrid himself came thundering up the path, a crossbow in his hands and Fang at his heels.

"What's wrong?" they chorused.

"Unicorns," he puffed. "Something's after the unicorns. It's almost foaling season, but if something's after 'em -"

"Have any been hurt?" Harry interjected.

"None that we've seen. Professor Grubbly-Plank - you remember her?" When all four of them nodded, Hagrid continued, "She lives over on the other side of the Forbidden Forest - keeps an eye on the unicorn herd that winters over there. Just had an owl from her an' she says there's some kind of stampede going on."

Hermione and Cho exchanged looks. The last time anything had threatened a unicorn was six years ago, and they all knew what had caused that incident. It looked like Cho's prediction of a peaceful school year wasn't going to come true after all.