"Oh," Hermione said slowly as she continued to play a little with the button of her coat up at her collar. She bit her lower lip, unsure whether she wanted to have her name attached to the paper in the first place. She had always found it more of source of entertainment than one of true literary virtue. Conspriacy theories, wild stories and tales of fiction spun to create truth (at least in her opinion). However, this was the way the voice of the Order was getting to the people, and she was in no position to say anything about it. Perhaps this would be a pleasant surprise - finding out Octavius Lovegood was an attractive young man and not a crippled old codger certainly had been.
"Well, Mister Lovegood, what is it you want me to do first?" Hermione finally asked as she began to undo her coat, resigned to the fact she wasn't going to get out of this.