Hermione had been piling up suspicions for weeks.
It wasn't just the food truck parked next to the greenhouses, nor the perfect grades in Divination, not even the fact that Kronk always seemed to be "accidentally useful" in every Hogwarts disaster.
It was everything.
That's why she ambushed him in the empty greenhouse, where Kronk was sitting on a tiny bench with a recipe notebook, a chewed-up pencil, and a pumpkin on his lap that seemed to be listening attentively.
Why were there so many pumpkins around Kronk lately?
How good had Hagrid's harvest been this year?
And how were they lasting so long past their season?
"Kronk," said Hermione in the tone of a judge about to pronounce a sentence.
He looked up, smiling.
"Hermione! You're just in time, I'm testing a seed bread, 'extra crunchy edition.' It doesn't explode… most of the time." Then he whispered to himself, "I still need to fix that empty classroom full of holes…"
"No," Hermione replied firmly, crossing her arms. "I'm not here to test anything. I'm here to ask you questions."
Kronk nodded solemnly and pulled a little notepad from his pocket.
"Do you want to take a number or just go straight to the list?"
Hermione glared at him.
"This is serious!" she exclaimed. "You always show up at the strangest moments, you always come out unscathed from impossible situations… and somehow you have a Time-Turner without going through the tests I had to pass!" she snapped. "What are you hiding?"
Kronk leaned toward her, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret.
"Well… I have a gift."
Hermione stiffened.
"What kind of gift?"
Kronk pointed to himself proudly with his thumb.
"The gift of being in the wrong place at the right time."
Hermione gaped at him.
"That… doesn't even make sense."
"Exactly! But magic exists, so…" He grinned.
Hermione pressed her lips together and pulled out a parchment with her list.
"Fine. Question number one: how did you get your Time-Turner?"
Kronk settled onto the bench like someone about to tell an everyday anecdote.
"I went to Professor Sprout and said: 'Sometimes I need to be in two places at once to hand out cookies and attend class.' And she replied: 'That seems like a reasonable concern, here, take one, Kronk, I trust you.'"
Hermione choked.
"That was it?!"
"Well… I also promised her weekly rye and honey bread," he whispered quietly. "That helps."
Hermione gripped her quill so tightly it almost snapped.
"Question two: how is it you always survive the most dangerous incidents? Dementors, hippogriffs, pyramid traps…" She still had trouble believing that last one. "No one is that lucky!"
Kronk rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"I call it my Three-S Method: Smile, Stay nice, and Sprint." He explained while adjusting glasses that hadn't been there a moment ago. "It works ninety percent of the time."
Hermione narrowed her eyes.
"And the other ten percent?"
"I play dead. Except with bears—then it's back to the Three S's."
Hermione opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again.
"That… that's not a method."
"Of course it is," Kronk countered confidently.
Hermione furiously scribbled something on her list.
"Question three: how did you get a perfect score in Divination?"
Kronk lit up as if they were discussing a dear subject.
"Oh, easy! I read tea leaves like recipes. One cup said 'sea voyage,' and I thought 'fresh fish.' Another said 'painful loss,' and I interpreted it as 'burned dinner.' And in the end, they all turned out valid!"
Hermione slapped the bench with her palm, her breath growing ragged.
"But that's not Divination, Kronk, that's… anything else, cooking even, but not Divination!"
Kronk shrugged casually.
"Well, the future also gets cooked."
Hermione froze with her quill in the air, trembling with frustration. It was so absurd she couldn't find a solid counterargument.
"You…" she finally said, pointing at him with the quill as if it were a knife. "You are impossible."
Kronk beamed from ear to ear.
"Thanks."
Hermione huffed, rolled up her list, and stormed off muttering something about "laws of logic dying in agony."
Kronk waited until she was gone, sighed with relief, and then looked at the pumpkin on his lap.
"Well, buddy, I think we got out of that one."
The pumpkin, of course, remained silent.