It wasn't long before Hermione returned, holding Crookshanks in her arms.
Her steps were light, and her face carried a visible sense of relief — even a faint smile — completely unlike someone who'd just been scolded by Ron.
Crookshanks was curled comfortably against her, his tail swaying lazily in contentment.
"I asked Crookshanks already. He said he didn't do anything to Scabbers."
Hermione spoke first, her tone filled with newfound calm.
Harry glanced at the plump orange cat in her arms and couldn't help the twitch in his mouth.
He had no idea how Hermione managed to "talk" with a cat. What did she do, meow back at him?
The thought made Harry stare curiously at Crookshanks, hoping to find a clue in that smug feline expression.
Apparently, Crookshanks noticed the scrutiny, because he suddenly opened his eyes and gave Harry a look that could only be described as utter disdain. Then he let out a low "mrrrow," which — if translated — probably meant, "Pathetic human."
Hermione giggled at their silent standoff and gently scratched Crookshanks under the chin.
"When I found him, he was near the tower, belly all round. He must've just eaten some fish from the kitchen. There's no way he'd bother chasing a rat."
She paused thoughtfully.
"And I checked his fur — no signs of a fight. Scabbers must've slipped into a drain somewhere. He is a rat, after all."
Harry nodded, though he couldn't shake the feeling that something about Scabbers' disappearance wasn't that simple — especially with Sirius Black having just tried to break into Gryffindor Tower.
But seeing Hermione so relaxed again, he decided not to ruin the mood.
"That's good then," he said with a grin.
---
The next morning, Harry ran into Hermione at the entrance of the common room — with a book bag slung over her shoulder.
"You're taking books to Hogsmeade?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "What, planning to recite A History of Magic inside Honeydukes?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and adjusted the strap on her bag.
"Of course not. Since you said you weren't going, I figured I'd stay and practice a few spells in your trunk instead."
Harry cleared his throat dramatically, wearing a "this is for your own good" expression.
"Oh no, you should definitely go. Hogsmeade's great this time of year — and your favorite Peppermint Snow Fangs have a new flavor. You'll regret it if you miss it."
Hermione frowned, suspicious.
"And how would you know that? Dumbledore forbade you from leaving the castle. Don't tell me you—"
"Second-year summer break," Harry interrupted quickly, waving his hands. "Snape brought me back early for… reasons. I, uh, took a walk through Hogsmeade then."
Hermione's expression softened a little, though she still shook her head.
"Even so, I don't really feel like—"
Before she could finish, Harry snatched the book bag from her hands and started pushing her toward the door.
"Go on, go on! Just think of it as scouting for me — and, uh… maybe bring something back."
Hermione stumbled forward, glaring at him over her shoulder.
"You're not planning to sneak out yourself, are you?"
"Of course not," Harry said innocently. "I just really want some Butterbeer. Two bottles. Chilled."
Hermione blinked.
"I thought you said Butterbeer was too sweet for you — you nearly spat it out last time!"
"People change," Harry said solemnly, avoiding her gaze. "Now hurry up before all the Snow Fangs are gone."
Still half-suspicious, Hermione sighed but started walking toward the exit. Truth be told, she'd always wanted to see the wizarding village for herself.
"Fine. I'm going," she said, turning back at the door. "But you stay put, all right? I'll be back soon."
"Got it, got it," Harry said, waving like a perfect angel.
The moment she disappeared around the corner, that angelic smile turned positively mischievous.
Harry dashed up toward the fourth floor — and nearly collided head-on with Fred and George.
The twins took one look at him and grinned knowingly.
Without a word, they split off — one to keep watch, one to distract Filch — while Harry sprinted straight toward the statue of the one-eyed witch.
"Dissendium," he whispered.
The statue slid aside, revealing the hidden passageway to Honeydukes' cellar.
Harry slipped inside, wand lit faintly to guide his way through the winding tunnel. It felt like forever before a faint glow appeared ahead.
He pushed open the wooden panel and climbed up into the sweet, sugary air of Honeydukes.
Boxes of Chocolate Frogs and Licorice Wands surrounded him. He dusted off his robes and peeked into the shop — only to freeze.
There, by the counter, stood a very familiar bushy-haired girl.
Hermione.
And beside her, Ginny.
Harry crept closer, curious what they were talking about.
---
"Ginny, how's Quidditch practice going?"
"Oh, don't ask," Ginny groaned. "Wood's gone mad. I swear he dreams in Quaffles now. Oh, and Hermione — put that down. That's a Singing Lemon Drop. Fred made Ron eat one last year; he couldn't stop singing for an hour."
Hermione laughed and tossed it into her paper bag anyway.
"If it's awful, I'll just give it to Harry."
Both girls burst out laughing — their voices bright as bells.
That was when Harry cleared his throat.
Hermione jumped so hard she dropped her bag of sweets.
Harry bent down, picked it up, and brushed it off with exaggerated politeness.
Ginny shot Hermione a look that screamed good luck and bolted.
Now it was just the two of them.
"So," Harry said casually, holding up the Lemon Drop. "Who were you planning to give this to?"
Hermione's face turned scarlet.
"Th–that's not important! What's important is—how are you here? You promised you'd stay in the castle!"
Harry rubbed the back of his neck, coughing awkwardly.
"Well, since I'm already here, no sense ruining the day, right?"
Hermione huffed and gave his arm a light (but not really angry) punch.
"Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? What if Filch saw you? Or—Merlin forbid—Sirius Black?"
Harry only smiled and handed the bag back to her.
"How could I let you experience Hogsmeade for the first time without me?"
That shut her up. Hermione turned away, cheeks pink, muttering something about "sugar making people stupid."
---
They wandered through the village afterward, Harry teasing her at every turn.
At one point, he pointed into Zonko's Joke Shop. "Fancy trying a Cockroach Cluster?"
Hermione's eyes went wide. "Is that a real cockroach?"
Harry grinned and walked right in. Moments later, he came back out, unwrapping a piece and popping it in his mouth.
"Not bad," he said, crunching exaggeratedly. "Chocolate flavor. Dumbledore loves these."
"Ew!" Hermione squeaked, recoiling. "You're disgusting!"
Harry laughed all the way down the street.
---
As they passed Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, he started to say, "Fred once told me this place was perfect for—"
But he stopped mid-sentence.
Because right there, through the window, Oliver Wood was snogging a girl like the world was ending.
Hermione's face went crimson.
"Harry!" she hissed, yanking his sleeve. "Stop staring!"
"Just surprised," Harry said, eyes twinkling. "Didn't know Wood could do anything other than yell about Quidditch."
Hermione dragged him away, fuming.
"Unbelievable! Boys!"
For a while, they walked in silence — both red-faced for very different reasons.
Finally, near the Three Broomsticks, Hermione folded her arms and said, "Didn't you want Butterbeer? My treat."
Harry immediately panicked. "Ah, no need! Too sweet! I—"
"Oh?" Hermione arched a brow. "So you lied to me again?"
Harry caved instantly. "On second thought, one won't hurt."
---
They stepped inside the Three Broomsticks — and Harry's heart dropped straight to his boots.
Professor McGonagall was there.
So was Professor Flitwick.
And the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge.
"Oh, wonderful," Harry muttered under his breath.
Fudge spotted him first and beamed. "Harry Potter! The Boy Who Lived! What an honor!"
Harry forced a polite smile and shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Minister."
McGonagall's expression, meanwhile, could've frozen lava. She didn't say a word — just glared.
When Fudge and Dumbledore eventually moved to a private room, McGonagall set her glass down hard.
"Mr. Potter," she said icily, "how exactly did you come to be here today?"
Harry tried weak humor. "I… walked?"
Hermione quickly stepped in.
"Professor, it's my fault! I dragged him along because he's been training too much lately. If anyone should be punished, it's me!"
Flitwick blinked, confused.
"But why? It's perfectly normal for students to come on a Hogsmeade weekend."
"Normal?" McGonagall snapped, eyes narrowing. "Mr. Potter does not have a guardian's permission slip. The Headmaster specifically forbade him from leaving the castle under current circumstances."
"Enough," she finished sharply, rising from her chair.
"Come, Potter. We're returning to the castle immediately. And as for punishment… we'll discuss that in my office."
She swept toward the door, her tartan robes billowing.
Harry sighed and followed. Before leaving, he shot Hermione a tiny smile, silently telling her not to worry.
Flitwick leaned over to Hermione and whispered kindly,
"Don't fret, my dear. Minerva talks tough, but her heart's soft. Harry won't be in too much trouble."