Hermione was hurrying toward them, very pink-faced and wearing a cloak, hat, and gloves.
“I got back a couple of hours ago, I’ve just been down to visit Hagrid and Buck—I mean Witherwings,” she said breathlessly. “Did you have a good Christmas?”
“Yeah,” said Ron at once, “pretty eventful, Rufus Scrim—”
“I’ve got something for you, Harry,” said Hermione, neither looking at Ron nor giving any sign that she had heard him. “Oh, hang on—password. Abstinence.”
“Precisely,” said the Fat Lady in a feeble voice, and swung forward to reveal the portrait hole.
“What’s up with her?” asked Harry.
“Overindulged over Christmas, apparently,” said Hermione, rolling her eyes as she led the way into the packed common room. “She and her friend Violet drank their way through all the wine in that picture of drunk monks down by the Charms corridor. Anyway…”
She rummaged in her pocket for a moment, then pulled out a scroll of parchment with Dumbledore’s writing on it.
“Great,” said Harry, unrolling it at once to discover that his next lesson with Dumbledore was scheduled for the following night. “I’ve got loads to tell him—and you. Let’s sit down—”
But at that moment there was a loud squeal of “Won-Won!” and Lavender Brown came hurtling out of nowhere and flung herself into Ron’s arms. Several onlookers sniggered; Hermione gave a tinkling laugh and said, “There’s a cable over here… Coming, Ginny?”
“No, thanks, I said I’d meet Dean,” said Ginny, though Harry could not help noticing that she did not sound very enthusiastic. Leaving Ron and Lavender locked in a kind of vertical wrestling match, Harry led Hermione over to the spare table.
“So how was your Christmas?”
“Oh, fine,” she shrugged. “Nothing special. How was it at Won-Won’s?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute,” said Harry. “Look, Hermione, can’t you—”
“No, I can’t,” she said flatly. “So don’t even ask.”
“I thought maybe, you know, over Christmas—”
“It was the Fat Lady who drank a vat of five-hundred-year-old wine, Harry, not me. So what was this important news you wanted to tell me?”