"Come on, "Mione." He bumped his leg against hers and gave her a smile. "Remember fourth year when you got bourbus puss all over your hands from the hate mail Rita Skeeter's fans sent you when she wrote you were "two-timing" me? And we weren't even dating!" Hermione couldn't help, but smile at that. "Adults sent you harmful things over a rumor! This bloke is sending you hate for being a successful Muggleborn working on muggle cases. The blood purist hate did not all die with Voldemort. These threats aren't made to be taken lightly," Harry leaned forward, almost comically to get her to meet his gaze when she tried to look away. "And I know you're not."