And he told her what had happened in Madam Puddifoot’s teashop.

“…so then,” he finished several minutes later, as the final bit of crumble disappeared, “she jumps up, right, and says, ‘I’ll see you around, Harry,’ and runs out of the place!” He put down his spoon and looked at Hermione. “I mean, what was all that about? What was going on?”

Hermione glanced over at the back of Cho’s head and sighed.

“Oh, Harry,” she said sadly. “Well, I’m sorry, but you were a bit tactless.”

“Me, tactless?” said Harry, outraged. “One minute we were getting on fine, next minute she was telling me that Roger Davies asked her out and how she used to go and snog Cedric in that stupid teashop—how was I supposed to feel about that?”

“Well, you see,” said Hermione, with the patient air of someone explaining that one plus one equals two to an over-emotional toddler, “you shouldn’t have told her that you wanted to meet me halfway through your date.”

“But, but,” spluttered Harry, “but—you told me to meet you at twelve and to bring her along, how was I supposed to do that without telling her?”

“You should have told her differently,” said Hermione, still with that maddeningly patient air. “You should have said it was really annoying, but I’d made you promise to come along to the Three Broomsticks, and you really didn’t want to go, you’d much rather spend the whole day with her, but unfortunately you thought you really ought to meet me and would she please, please come along with you and hopefully you’d be able to get away more quickly. And it might have been a good idea to mention how ugly you think I am, too,” Hermione added as an afterthought.

“But I don’t think you’re ugly,” said Harry, bemused.

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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.	\|	Hermione laughed.

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