"What kind of joke is this, Hermione?" Jon forced a look of confusion, mentally recalling Ron Weasley's usual expressions as he demanded loudly.
As he spoke, he began walking toward her.
"Back off... hands up!" Hermione Granger snapped, taking several steps backward.
"Hagrid's hurt. Time's running out..." Jon made a final attempt to reason with her.
"Hagrid isn't hurt at all—and you're not Ron!" Hermione shouted. "Don't come any closer... hands up... or I'll—"
Jon obediently raised his hands.
Hermione visibly relaxed, her wand lowering slightly. She had been extremely tense just moments ago.
"Miss Granger, I'm curious... how did you figure it out?" Jon asked softly.
"If Hagrid were really injured—or even dying—Ron would never have been that calm. I should have realized it back in the library..." A confident smile spread across Hermione's face.
"And just now, when I looked toward Hagrid's hut, I saw smoke rising from the chimney. If Hagrid was cooking in his own house, how could he possibly be in the Forbidden Forest?"
"You're very clever—brilliant, even." Jon couldn't help but nod in admiration.
He had chosen dinner time deliberately. After spotting the smoke rising from Hagrid's hut, he'd taken Ron to Umbridge and then transformed into Ron to prepare for abducting Hermione. That way, on their way to the Forbidden Forest, they wouldn't risk running into the real Hagrid.
He hadn't expected Hermione to notice the flaw.
"And you—who are you, really?" Hermione Granger aimed her wand at Jon's chest, her voice sharp. "You used Polyjuice Potion, didn't you? What did you do to Ron?"
"I'm afraid you'll find out soon enough..." Jon said with a bitter smile, lowering his raised hands slightly.
...
The effects of the Polyjuice Potion seemed to have reached their limit. The skin on Jon's face began shifting rapidly.
Hermione's eyes stayed locked on him.
But then—
Something small and swift leapt from the willow behind her, streaking straight toward her.
"Ah—!" Hermione Granger screamed.
The little creature landed on the back of her neck and wriggled into her clothes.
"Expelliarmus!" Just as Hermione froze in shock, a calm voice echoed in front of her.
She felt a powerful force push against her, and both wands flew out of her hands.
The wizard she had just disarmed had somehow drawn another wand.
"Incarcerous!" Jon wasted no time, raising his emerald-green wand and shouting the spell.
A thick rope shot from the wand's tip, coiling tightly around Hermione Granger's limbs.
"Wh-what are you doing?" Hermione stammered, her voice trembling with fear.
The other person was striding toward her, his face twitching grotesquely as the transformation faded, giving him a warped and hideous expression.
Meanwhile, the small creature that had burrowed into her clothes was still squirming around behind her.
She struggled in pain, but the rope only tightened further.
Jon grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her around so her back faced him.
"Ah—!" Hermione screamed in terror.
He had lifted the back of her robes.
...
"What are you doing—let me go—let me—" Hermione's screams cut off abruptly.
Because he'd let her robes fall back into place.
At the same time, the little creature darting around behind her seemed to have been pulled free.
"So it was you!" Jon stared in surprise at the tiny being in his hand—the very creature that had just wriggled into Hermione's clothes: a Bowtruckle.
The Bowtruckle had no blood on its hands or mouth, showing it hadn't harmed Hermione at all.
It lifted its head and chirped softly at him.
"Oh, I didn't expect it would be you helping me." A small smile touched Jon's lips as he gently patted the little sapling's head.
This part of the forest was indeed home to Bowtruckles. Jon had instinctively brought Hermione here, though he hadn't expected this particular one—whom he'd fed many times before—to recognize him and leap out to protect him.
"Thank you for today," Jon murmured quietly.
Just moments earlier, he'd been trying to think of a way to distract Hermione so he could draw his second wand—his real one—and catch her off guard. The Bowtruckle had saved him a great deal of trouble.
As the little creature chirped happily, Jon lifted it gently and placed it back on a nearby tree.
...
"Is that... you, Jon?" Hermione Granger's eyes widened in disbelief as she struggled to break free from the ropes, but they wouldn't budge.
The Polyjuice Potion's effects had completely worn off, and without the iron ring on his finger, Ron Weasley's appearance had reverted to Jon's true form.
"That's right. Long time no see." Jon turned back to face her, his tone calm.
"But you died... during the Triwizard Tournament... How is this possible... Are you human or ghost..." Hermione's words spilled out in a rapid, panicked stream, her face pale with shock.
"I'm sorry, Hermione... Please forgive me..." Jon said softly. "I truly am... very sorry."
Then, with one hand gripping the rope that bound her, he raised his wand with the other, pointing it directly at her head.
"Obliviate."
Before she could react, Hermione's eyes grew vacant and distant. Her consciousness faded.
Thin, silvery threads drifted from her temples... then slowly sank back in.
Five minutes later, Jon lowered his wand and exhaled deeply.
Finally, it was done.
Krum's letter might not have resolved the issue itself, but at least the one who discovered the problem had been dealt with... though he'd nearly been outwitted by a sixteen-year-old girl.
He glanced around. Leaving Hermione alone here wasn't safe—this was the Forbidden Forest, after all. If some wild beast or magical creature stumbled upon an unconscious girl, the consequences could be dire.
But he already had a plan.
Sliding on the iron ring, he hoisted Hermione over his shoulder and carried her all the way to Hagrid's hut.
Inside, Hagrid's humming could be faintly heard.
Jon laid the unconscious Hermione at his doorstep.
Then he slipped away quietly into the shadows.