Hermione gave him the kind of nasty look

Hermione gave him the kind of nasty look she had just given his copy of Advanced Potion-Making.

“It was all on the back of the bottles they showed Ginny and me in the summer,” she said coldly, “I don't go around putting potions in people's drinks... or

pretending too either, which is just as bad...”

“Yeah, well, never mind that,” said Harry quickly. “The point is, Filch is being fooled isn't he? These girls are getting stuff into the school disguised as

something else! So why couldn't Malfoy have brought the necklace into the school—?”

“Oh, Harry... not that again...”

“Come on, why not?” demanded Harry.

“Look,” sighed Hermione, “Secrecy Sensors detect jinxes, curses, and concealment charms, don't they? They're used to find dark magic and dark objects. They'd have

picked up a powerful curse, like the one in the necklace, within seconds. But something that's just been put in the wrong bottle wouldn't register—and anyway love

potions aren't dark or dangerous—”

“Easy for you to say,” muttered Harry, thinking of Romilda Vane.

“—so it would be down to Filch to realise it wasn't a cough potion, and he's not a very good wizard, I doubt he can tell one potion from—”

Hermione stopped dead; Harry had heard it too. Somebody had moved close behind them among the dark bookshelves. They waited, and a moment later the vulture-like

countenance of Madam Pince appeared around the corner, her sunken cheeks, her skin like parchment, and her long hooked nose illuminated unflatteringly by the lamp she

was carrying.

“The library is now closed,” she said, “Mind you return anything you have borrowed to the correct—what have you been doing to that book, you depraved boy?”

“It isn't the library's, it's mine!” said Harry hastily, snatching his copy of Advanced Potion-Making off the table as she lunged at it with a clawlike hand.

“Despoiled!” she hissed. “Desecrated, befouled!”

“It's just a book that's been written on!” said Harry, tugging it out of her grip.

She looked as though she might have a seizure; Hermione, who had hastily packed her things, grabbed Harry by the arm and frogmarched him away.

“She'll ban you from the library if you're not careful. Why did you have to bring that stupid book?”

“It's not my fault she's barking mad, Hermione. Or d'you think she overheard you being rude about Filch? I've always thought there might be something between them...”

“Oh, ha ha..”

Enjoying the fact that they could speak normally again, they made their way along the deserted lamp-lit corridors back to the common room, arguing whether or not Filch

and Madam Pince were secretly in love with each other.

“Baubles,” said Harry to the Fat Lady, this being the new, festive password.

“Same to you,” said the fat lady with a roguish grin, and she swung forward to admit them.

“Hi, Harry!” said Romilda Vane, the moment he had climbed through the portrait hole. “Fancy a Gillywater?”

Hermione gave him a “What-did-I-tell-you?” look over her shoulder.

“No thanks,” said Harry quickly. “I don't like it much.”

“Well, take these anyway,” said Romilda, thrusting a box into his hands. “Chocolate Cauldrons, they've got firewhiskey in them. My gran sent them to me, but I don't

like them.”

“Oh—right—thanks a lot.” said Harry, who could not think what else to say. “Er—I'm just going over here with ...”

He hurried off behind Hermione, his voice tailing away feebly.

“Told you,” said Hermione succinctly, “Sooner you ask someone, sooner they'll all leave you alone and you can—”

But her face suddnly turned blank; she had just spotted Ron and Lavender, who were intertwined in the same armchair.

“Well, goodnight, Harry,” said Hermione, though it was only seven o'clock in the evening, and she left for the girls’ dormitory without another word.

Harry went to bed comforting himself that there was only one more day of lessons to struggle through, plus Slughorn's party, after which he and Ron would depart

together for the Burrow. It now seemed impossible that Ron and Hermione would make up with each other before the holidays began, but perhaps, somehow, the break would

give them time to calm down, think better of their behavior...