Break Down These Walls

The flicker of candles in their sconces gave them room a soft, warm glow, casting faded shadows  of objects onto the stone walls of the sixth-year boys dorm.  Outside, there was a cold rain that battered against the glass windowpanes. Loud as it was, the sound was easy enough to ignore when there were other things to keep one’s attention on in the room.

Hermione’s nose was deep in a book, as always.  However, this book was another special selection. It was a copy of the story Matilda, a tale of a little girl who discovered she had magical abilities and sought to leave her mundane family.  This copy had been given to Hermione somewhere around her tenth birthday and she had felt an instant connection to it.  Like Hogwarts: A History, Matilda had been a touch of her two worlds colliding, even if Hermione hadn’t known it yet at the time.  Though she kept her books well, she had travelled with this book on almost every holiday when she had been younger.  The edges of the novel were dried, worn and yellowed.  The brunette witch thumbed over to the next page and kept reading, almost oblivious to the world around her.  Her brown tresses had been pulled back into a loose bun and secured in place with her wand, allowing her more visibility when reading the text.  She paid no mind when a finger loosely toyed with a stray curl, wrapping it around his finger over and over.

Hermione had tucked herself up in Fred’s bed almost as soon as he had let her in to the sixth-year dorm.  Now, he played gently with her hair as she read, their limbs tangled up comfortably together amongst the sheets of his four-poster bed, cuddling.  Her head rested back against his chest.  Fred moved his right pointer finger from her loose curl down to the skin of her right forearm.  The pad of his finger lazily trailed along her right arm in little patterns and Hermione was vaguely aware of his eyes on her eyes when she read.  This little intimate moment was broken when George threw a pillow at them from his own bed.  It had missed Fred but hit Hermione’s arm, making her drop her book down the left side of Fred’s bed.  It fell to the floor with a little thud and as Hermione leaned over the side of Fred’s bed to pick it up, she shook her head at George’s actions and laughed softly.  She readjusted Fred’s Weird Sisters tee on her small frame so that it wasn’t twisted and pointed her book towards her boyfriend’s twin.

“How dare you,” she teased.  “I was sort of in the middle of something, George.” She tucked her book underneath Fred’s pillow for safekeeping at the moment. “What do you want?” 

George had looked to where Lee Jordan sat on his own bed, returning his attention to Fred and Hermione afterward.  “Freddie, we should tell her what we heard today, about the Third Task.”

Hermione’s mouth had dropped open and she had hurriedly moved to sit on her knees, Fred’s shirt pooling around her thighs as she switched positions.  It was long enough to keep her modest in front of the other boys, although that was the least of her worries. 

“You know something about the Third Task?” she had practically shouted.  Lee chuckled and George gave his brother a knowing look.   Fred grinned and looked up at his girlfriend from his laid-back position, propped against his pillow.  The candle flames flickered, adding to the glimmer of amusement and mischief in his eyes.

“The three of us were headed to Charms,” Fred started to explain. “But we stopped when we saw a group of the teachers huddled together.  There was McGonagall, Snape, Burbage and Pomfrey.  Anyway, they were talking about what awaits the Champions during the Third Task.”

“And we were trying to stay hidden behind the wall, you see,” came Lee from his bed.  “So, we didn’t want to be too obvious – “

“Another reason why we are inventing our Extendable Ears,” interrupted George, but Lee cut him off and kept speaking.

“Professor McGonagall looked worried,” Jordan emphasized.  “She was saying that she still couldn’t understand how Harry had managed to get his name into the Goblet, let alone be selected to compete.  She said she had argued with Crouch after the other two tasks, pleading him to retract Harry’s obligation.  But that couldn’t be helped either.”

“Pomfrey tried to calm her down,” George added.  “Rubbing her back to sooth her, you know.  And she was saying, It’s as good as over, Minerva.  There’s only one Task left and then this can all be done with.  Potter has done well so far.  But then McGonagall had said, No.  This final task is supposed to be the most dangerous.  The old dear started rubbing her hands together.  Then she said, Albus has told me that there may be creatures inside.  What if Potter doesn’t know how to defeat them?”

“Then Snape butted in,” added Fred.  “And he was talking about the fact that Harry wasn’t capable enough to do the task.  What if the boy is meant to duel one of the other Champions, instead of creatures? Snape said.  Despite what people think about Potter being the Chosen One, his real only duelling experience came out of that pompous fool Lockhart’s class two years ago, and he ended up setting a snake on Mr. Finch-Fletchley from Hufflepuff.  I wouldn’t exactly call that duelling.”

Hermione’s hands were clasped in her lap and she was listening intently.  “Oh, do go on!” she encouraged.  “What happened next?”

Lee grinned.  “McGonagall had pursed her lips and looked at Snape like she was annoyed, you know?  Then she said, Severus, you are not being helpful.  You really find his duelling abilities that inadequate?”

George continued.  “Snape kind of smirked and said, I’m saying that if Potter was up against a second or third-year student, he would be able to defeat them.  But against three seventh-year students, one of them having had personal training underneath Igor Karkaroff, Potter doesn’t stand a chance. Then he grabbed his cloak like this – ”  George grabbed the edges of one of the blankets on his bed and he crossed his arms, wrapping his blanket ‘cloak’ around himself.  “And looked all ominous and tough.  Have you noticed he does that a lot?”

Hermione noticed how invested all three sixth-year boys were in this story.  She sat back on her heels, still kneeling, and smiled a little.  “Did anything else happen?” she asked, amused.

Fred wrapped a hand around her waist and squeezed, earning a smile from his girlfriend. 

“Well, Burbage started speaking, saying that if Krum had Karkaroff, Harry could have Mad-Eye.  And McGonagall looked intrigued by that.  Even Pomfrey agreed that Harry being trained under Mad-Eye might be a good idea.  After all, if Karkaroff is a former Death Eater, and Mad-Eye is a former Auror, they would kind of counteract each other, right?”

Hermione nodded slowly and paused to consider the argument.  “I suppose I can see the logic,” she said at last.  “What else happened?”

George moved off his bed and moved to sit at the foot of Lee’s, pushing his mate’s jumpers off the bottom of the bed onto the floor, where they lumped together in a pile. 

“After they talked about Mad-Eye for a bit, Pomfrey offered that, Maybe training with Mad-Eye will prevent Potter from gaining a god complex.  He’s a very sweet young man, but it’s a wonder that his ego is still as humbled as it is, with all of the situations he has found himself in over the years.  With Quirrell and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named; the Chamber of Secrets with that snake and then last year, with Remus and that murderer, Potter might think he’s invincible.”

“That got the lot of them bickering about how if Harry really did have a god complex, and McGonagall argued that Harry probably just considers himself to be lucky,” Fred added. “In any case, she seemed to relax a bit and she put a hand to her forehead for a second, closing her eyes.  When she opened them again, she took her hand off her forehead and put it onto Snape’s shoulder.  She was leaning a bit, like she was using him to help keep her upright.”  The Weasley brother paused to take his mug of hot chocolate off of his nightstand with the free hand that wasn’t on Hermione’s waist, and brought it to his lips.  He had visited the kitchens prior to coming up to bed and had managed to procure hot chocolate for the four of them, in charmed mugs that stayed warm.  “The last thing we heard before we kept heading to Charms was that she wished Professor Dumbledore would tell her more information.  She felt that, As Deputy Headmistress, I should really know what is going on at this school and how I can best protect my students – all of my students, which I reckon meant like everyone in the entire school.”

“The old codger is keeping something from all of us, then,” Lee had said finally.  “If some of the professors don’t even know what’s going on, maybe that’s not such a good sign.”

Hermione took the pause in story-telling as an opportunity to take her mug of hot chocolate off of Fred’s nightstand.  George had gone down to the kitchens earlier and asked the house elves to make them up a few cups, bringing them back up to Gryffindor Tower.  She brought the creamy hot drink to her lips and drank deeply for a moment, admiring how the warmth of the drink was instantly felt all the way to her toes.  Only when she had placed it back on the nightstand did she speak.

“So, we know there are creatures in the event and we know that Dumbledore is hiding the details.  At least, until we get closer to the date,” Hermione said with a soft sigh.  “At least we can tell Harry something that might ease his mind.  He’s driving himself mad not knowing what his next task is going to be.  He has no way to prepare.”  She watched Fred grab his own hot chocolate and sip, pensive.  He cleared his throat after he swallowed and set his mug back down on his nightstand beside her own.   His now-free right hand moved upward to sweep that wayward curl behind her left ear. 

“Well, the task isn’t until June, love,” Fred had said.  “We could get more information by then, I’m sure.  Harry just has to be a little more patient.”

“If I were Harry,” said Lee.  “I would have already tried to go down to the Quidditch pitch to check out what was happening for the Third Task.”

“What’s the point?” asked George.  “They’ve started to set it up already but there are enchantments.  You can’t go within a hundred feet of the main entrance, there’s some kind of silvery bubble around the pitch when you get close.  Personally, I reckon it’s all an illusion.  They know what’s being built back there and they’re hiding it.”

Hermione had sighed and ran a hand through Fred’s sheets.  “Well, we won’t know for a few months now, will we?” she asked at last.  “So, I suggest that until we know more, we tell Harry about the possibility of creatures and that can be that.”

The four Gryffindors spent the rest of that night talking of the task and what may be ahead.  Hermione indulged George and Lee’s dragon theory but Fred shot it down, saying that having dragons in more than one task didn’t make sense.  The fourth-year witch revealed her theory, the one that Sirius had spoken off in the common room fireplace the night that Harry was picked as a Hogwarts Champion: someone was targeting Harry and had been for a while.  Whomever it was had somehow managed to put the Chosen One’s name into the Goblet of Fire and knew that if Harry was drawn, he would be headed into the Tournament.  Since he was the least experienced magical child involved, Harry was put as more risk.  And by extension, Hermione and Ron rarely travelled without Harry and always helped him out of scrapes, therefore, making their lives more at risk as well.

In light of all of these revelations, Fred insisted on looking out for Hermione’s safety.  If she didn’t go to class alongside Harry and Ron, he would go out of his way to travel through the castle corridors so that she wouldn’t be alone.  The sixth-year classes were slightly staggered compared to those of the fourth-years, which meant that Fred could walk her to most classes.  When she finished her lessons before he finished his, she would wait in the corridor just outside the classroom, and sure enough, his tall frame and mop of ginger hair could be seen within a few minutes, heading her way.  George also checked in with Harry and Ron a little more than usual, making sure they were alright, and even Lee took over on occasion.  The three sixth-years dubbed their ‘security detail’ mission as “Trio Watch.”  How amusing.

This pattern continued all the way through to June. 

When it was the last week of the school year, Ginny and Hermione were determined to have a girl’s afternoon, having spent little time together lately.  They had taken some baked sweets from the Great Hall, a blanket and two bottles of pumpkin juice out to the landscaped courtyard in the middle of the Hogwarts Castle.  The two Gryffindor girls were out of uniform and had both chosen light sundresses, trying to catch the beginnings of summer’s sun upon their skin.  After they had set up their little picnic spot, they had chatted about if Ginny was fancying anyone lately with the youngest Weasley replying that she had a lot of crushes.  However, no crush was stronger than the torch she still carried for Harry.  Ginny then asked Hermione if she truly thought that Harry was going to be alright in the final task.  Hermione had only shrugged.  The protective enchantments that kept students and faculty a hundred yards back from the Quidditch pitch and beyond still held and they had no way of seeing what was being done to prepare for the event.  She had nothing to go on.  But as the brunette blinked in the sunlight and lifted a hand upward to the sky to shield her eyes from the bright beams, she sighed.

“I think that Mad-Eye Moody taking Harry under his wing since Crouch’s death has been good for him,” she said at last.  “I mean, if you’re going into a potentially dangerous task, who better to help you prepare for it than the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who happens to be an ex-Auror?”

Hermione looked over at Ginny to see that the redheaded witch was lost in thought.  They had set up their blanket at the base of one of the courtyard’s trees and the shadows of the leaves blowing in the breeze danced crossed Ginny’s freckled cheeks.  “Gin?  Are you quite alright?” she asked after a moment.

Ginny’s brown eyes, lighter than those of Fred, met Hermione’s inquisitive gaze and the thirteen-year old bit her lip.

“Moody is kind of terrifying,” she said at last. “Brilliant, don’t get me wrong, but terrifying.  I mean, he’s been twitchy more than usual – haven’t you noticed? He’s doing more of that lip-licking thing, too.  And drinking from his flask when he thinks we aren’t looking.  I don’t know, something about him has been throwing me off lately but I can’t put my finger on it.” 

Hermione sat up a little at her friend’s concern.  Ginny continued.

“The other day, he was teaching us about werewolves.  He included a photograph from a past crime scene in one of the slides of his lesson, where someone had found out their colleague was a werewolf and was sent to Azkaban for killing him.  The poor bloke had been half-changed and the picture only focused on the victim’s chest.  It was just a close-up photo of the chest, no marks or anything on it – but the bones looked a little disjoined and there were patches of fur...  All I could think of was Professor Lupin… it made me so sad.  I cannot believe they would let Moody feature his past case photos in a lesson like that.  One boy from Slytherin named Harper, have you heard of him? Well, he almost vomited right there at his desk!”

Hermione grimaced.  “I don’t reckon McGonagall would like that if she knew,” she said. 

Ginny shook her head fervently.  “No, no she would not,” the redhead replied.

Hermione took a sip of her pumpkin juice and Ginny ate a blueberry scone.  Then Ginny got on the topic of Fred and the rest of the Weasley family, a pleasant shift in conversation from the topic of Mad-Eye Moody.

“While I appreciate how much my brother has taken on the role of being your personal knight in shining armour lately,” Ginny teased.  “Do you ever find his protectiveness of you overbearing?  Like him following you around all the time?”

Hermione shook her head.  “He’s not always around,” she replied.  “I mean, we value our time as a couple and I definitely feel safer with Fred walking me to and from class when Harry and Ron can’t.  But at the end of the day, I get my time alone, or I’m able to have time with just Harry and Ron if I want.  We don’t push to be around each other all the time and I want him to have time with George and Lee and the others.  It’s healthy, what we have.”

Ginny smirked and drank half her pumpkin juice down, letting out a very unladylike belch that reminded Hermione so much of Ron.  The brunette giggled.  Ginny turned her attention back to Hermione as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“All I’m saying is that it couldn’t be me,” Ginny said.  “Having a man around me, always like a shadow, wherever I go – no, thank you.”

Hermione laughed.  “What if that man is Harry one day?” she teased.  Ginny’s cheeks went pink.

“Hermione, he could have anyone he wanted.  If he wanted me by now, he would have done something.”

The brightest witch shrugged and laid down, her hair wildly fawning out upon the soft surface of the blanket.  “I wouldn’t be so sure, Gin,” she said.  “Nothing is set in stone.  Who’s to say that Fred and I will always be together?  We’re still so young – I don’t think Harry needs to claim you as his wife now, does he?”

“I would be bloody-well satisfied if he did!” Ginny exclaimed.  She pulled at the hem of her sundress slightly and drank some more of her pumpkin juice before continuing on.  “Are you coming to the Burrow this summer, then?  To be with Freddie?”

Hermione grinned.  “I’ll have to spend at least a week or two with Mum and Dad first, but I’ll assume for the rest of the summer, I’ll be there.”

“Mum wrote Bill and Charlie and told them that we also might be spending some time at Grimmauld Place this summer,” Ginny said excitedly.  “I’ve never been there – what’s it like?”

“Sirius’ house?” Hermione replied, her brows furrowing together.  “I’m not sure, I haven’t been.  I wonder if it’s grand.”  They knew Sirius was the black sheep of the Noble House of Black family and if the rumours about the Malfoy Mansion were true, then the house of Narcissa Malfoy’s cousin was sure to be just as large and ornate.   Most of the Sacred 28 Pureblood families had inherited wealth and power along their way throughout history.   Hermione couldn’t imagine Sirius’ family having been any different.

Ginny’s eyes were alight with excitement.  “I wonder if we’re going to stay with Sirius long,” she mused, starting to be swept away with the idea of it all.  “But I’m not supposed to know, Charlie wrote me separately.  I don’t even think the twins know yet.  You have to swear to secrecy.”

Hermione drank down most of her pumpkin juice and then busied herself by eating a strawberry scone.  She held up her pinky on her right finger and Ginny took hold of it with her own.  The secret of Grimmauld Place was safe with her. 

The summer breeze picked up and warmed Hermione’s skin.  It made the young witch long for the beach.  She closed her eyes and thought back to past holiday vacations.  Her parents would take a week or two off from their dentist work and drive down with Hermione to Brighton.  They would spend days along the rocky beachside, faffing about in the water for hours. Maybe one day she could take Fred.  The sun would be sure to bring out even more of their respective freckles or sunspots.

After the girls had finished their little picnic, they had returned to the Gryffindor common room and gone up their respective dormitories to pack up their remaining things.   As it was the last week of the school year, the students were prepared to head home.  The final and Third task of the Triwizard Tournament was to take place on this upcoming Saturday, the 24^th, and the students took the train home on the evening of the 25^th.  Hermione had kept a few of her favourite outfits out of her suitcase and they were folded on the bottom shelf of her little closet area but the rest had been packed away.  All of her books, save for her copy of Hogwarts: A History, had also been tucked amongst her clothing to keep their covers and binding safe in her travels.  She had kept Fred’s note from when he had asked her on their first ever study date and had slipped that into a pocket of her suitcase as well.   She planned on making a special box when she got home that had keepsakes from their dating adventures inside.

That afternoon and evening was spent with Harry and Ron.  Harry confided that he was feeling a little more confident about going into the Third Task, thanks to Moody’s coaching the past few months.  His confidence allowed Ron and Hermione to be more comfortable with the whole ordeal.  It was difficult to constantly watch their best friend be put into turbulent situations.  As the days drew nearer, they speculated along with the rest of the students about what the Champions would have to go up against within the surrounding area of the Quidditch pitch.  Some, to Ron’s worry, spoke of the giant spiders that were rumoured to live in the Forbidden Forest and wondered if they were the creatures that the Champions would face.  Ron whimpered and spoke quietly of how he and Harry had met the Acromantula in second-year, especially Aragog, King of the arachnids.  Hermione knew that Ron still had nightmares about his and Harry’s shared experience with the Acromantula, even if it was two years ago.  Hermione had never seen such a creature with her own eyes but she could only imagine that she would have found the experience to be equally as chilling.  She reassured Ron on multiple occasions that the rumours were just fictitious and that Harry was going to be alright, no matter what he faced within that pitch.

When the day of the final task arrived, Flitwick had set up banners all over the school.  Some were attached to flagpoles, other flapped independently in the air.  Using his charms, he had levitated four enlarged banners, each about twenty feet in length and had fixated them to each side of the Hogwarts clock tower.  While each Champion had a representing banner on the clock tower, the ones throughout the Hogwarts grounds and castle walls were mostly yellow and black, representing Cedric Diggory and his Hufflepuff house, or red and black, to represent the Chosen One and the noble house of Gryffindor.

While Flitwick had been busy setting up banners, Fred and George geared up for a busy day of sales.  Over the past two weeks, in anticipation of the Third Task, the Weasley twins had created pins to sell on the day of the final event.  Harry and Cedric’s pins were made of a light resin and featured the words “Potter makes us Proud!” or “Diggory Gets It Done!” upon them and again, sported the matching Champion “colours” of red and black or yellow and black with the Hogwarts crest faded underneath the text. 

For the other two Champions, Delacour and Krum, the twins had fashioned the pins out of wood rather than resin.  The pins that represented the Beauxbatons student featured fleur-de-lis and lavender sprigs.  The hope was that the Beauxbatons students who would buy them would pin them onto their velveteen uniform hats or the silk of their caplets.  Viktor Krum’s pins, also fashioned out of wood, were in the shape of a phoenix.  This phoenix mimicked the one depicted on Krum’s shirt that he wore so often, the brown one with the silhouette of the firebird on the front.  It was the same bird that represented the Durmstrang Institute.  If tapped with a wand, the Bulgarian phoenix pins would squawk.  Fred had been rather proud of his charm work to have created all of these pins, while George, Lee and Angelina, who had only so recently been accepted back into the friend group, had used their charm work and hands to paint each pin. 

When Fred and George had packaged up all of the pins, they decided to show off their creations in the Gryffindor common room first, waiting until after breakfast to bring out their wooden trays with all of the packaged pins on display.  To no one’s surprise, the Gryffindors bought the Potter Pride pins and happily fastened them to their outfits as they started to get ready to head down to view the final task.   The twins, followed by Hermione, who kept an inventory of sold pins in a notebook, and Lee Jordan, who worked his sales pitch magic, then left through the portrait hole and set their sights on the rest of the castle.  When they reached the Great Hall, they were surprised to spot Mr. Amos Diggory, Cedric’s father, who sat proudly beside his son at the Hufflepuff table.  As it was a special event, Mr. Diggory was allowed attend and had taken full advantage of the invite.  He was going to spend the whole day with his boy.  After buying a Cedric pin for himself, as well as a few of Diggory’s friends, the group of Gryffindors left Amos behind them, the sounds of his boastful talk about Cedric’s imminent success fading.

They passed through the quad, where the clocktower resided, and ran into Madame Maxime, the Headmistress of Beauxbatons.  She shepherded a group of her girls, Fleur and Gabrielle amongst them.  The little white butterflies that had appeared when the Beauxbatons girls had first arrived at Hogwarts all those many months ago fluttered around them again today, excited.  They flitted through the air, this way and that, and especially around Madame Maxime’s head.  As they approached the French Headmistress, the soft scent of lavender reached their noses.

Every Beauxbatons student in that group, save for Fleur, bought a pin.  Madame Maxime purchased one as well and immediately fixed it to her dress.  She patted George’s left cheek and called him a “dear boy” before she led her charges away.

As the morning progressed, Hermione kept track of the remaining pin inventory and Lee walked around the perimeter of the little group, canvasing potential buyers to come up to Fred and George.  They managed to sell a few Durmstrang pins to both Bulgarian students and a few Hogwarts students, like Malfoy and his cronies.  The pins sold well and sure enough, the twins were over halfway through their stock within a few hours.  The foursome of Gryffindors continued on through from the quad through the castle to the courtyard and had just started walking across the grass in the sunshine when Hermione caught sight of McGonagall out of the corner of her eye.  The Head of Gryffindor house walked alongside Madame Pomfrey down the exposed corridors of the castle that wrapped around the courtyard.  Hermione gave the professor a little wave and McGonagall waved back – until she noticed what the twins were up to. 

Hermione sucked in a breath.  “Freddie, did you get permission to sell these pins?” she asked quickly.  Fred smirked.

“An entrepreneur doesn’t ask permission, love,” he replied.  “He just seizes the moment.”

“Well, McGonagall is coming over here to take that moment away,” Hermione answered. “I waved at her and I guess she saw the trays.”  She pushed lightly on Fred and George’s backs.  “Just walk faster.”  They picked up the pace but so had McGonagall and she passed through the stone archways into the courtyard, her velvet green robes billowing behind her like a flag.

“Mr. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Jordan and Miss Granger – freeze!” she called, authoritative.  “Don’t move.”

Fred and George visibly flinched and froze, as did Lee and Hermione.  They slowly turned around to face their House Head.  All four students stepped back once at her approach and respectfully nodded once when she met up with them.  They daren’t speak until she did.  Hermione quietly folded her notebook closed and tucked it under her arm to keep it safe. Lee twiddled his thumbs. Fred and George, ever so bold, simply grinned at their Deputy Headmistress.

McGonagall placed her hands on her hips and huffed.  “What is all this?” she asked.  “Boys, you know you are not supposed to solicit on school grounds!”

“But, Professor, they’re for a good cause,” said George.  “And look at the craftsmanship!” He held up one of the wooden pins they had fashioned.  “We slaved for two weeks, we did! And look, we made them out to be really intricate.  Everyone loves them!”  He switched out the pins and held up the one that represented Fleur, the one with all the florals.  McGonagall raised an eyebrow, not impressed.

Fred, daring to push a little further, stepped forward to the professor’s right side and wrapped his left arm around her shoulders, moving in closer so that they were almost cheek-to-cheek.

“A Potter Pride pin would be a great look on you, Professor!” he said with a tilt of his head in Minerva’s direction.  He motioned for Lee to hand him one, quickly, and his best mate did so.  When Fred had the resin pin in hand, he held it out for McGonagall’s inspection.  “It’s red and black to represent his Champion robes and shows the Boy Who Lived that we love him and have pride for Gryffindor!”

The glossy surface of the pin reflected the sun’s light and seemed to sparkle.  Hermione saw the Transfiguration teacher’s façade waver a little.  George, who had noticed as well, took the opportunity to step forward so that McGonagall could see all of the pins, laid out for presentation. 

“Yes, Professor,” George began.  “For a very small price, you could be sporting one of these all for yourself.  Think of how proud Harry will feel when he sees you, the matriarch of Gryffindor house, wearing a pin bearing his name!  Why, you’re like the grandmother he never had! It will surely spur him on to victory!”

McGonagall’s eyes widened at George’s comment.  “Grandmother?  Ach, the cheek of you, Mr. Weasley!”  But behind her startled expression, the anger in her eyes at the boys’ behaviour had softened.  McGonagall shooed the twins backwards and out of her general vicinity with a flutter of her hands and then held her hands up, palms facing outward to signal that enough was enough.  The Scottish witch tried to keep her emotions at bay.   “I remain firm on my point that you cannot solicit your products on school grounds, no matter the cause!”  She lowered her hands when it seemed that the twins wouldn’t rush her again.  “Away with you, now!  Back up to the common rooms and be lucky that I don’t confiscate your products.”

Hermione watched as McGonagall turned away from them.  She looked down at her notebook and bit her lip.  She didn’t want Fred and George to do all of this and not meet their goal. Before she could think twice, she reached out and lightly grabbed her teacher’s left elbow.

“Professor, wait, please – “

McGonagall turned sharply on her heel, the action pulling her elbow out of Hermione’s light grasp.

“Miss Granger, what in Godric’s name – ”

“A compromise!” Hermione blurted.  “What about a compromise?  The twins have a goal of 200 Galleons, Professor, and to do that, they need to sell their last 5 Potter pins.  If you buy them, at a cost of 2 Galleons, 11 sickles and 38 knuts, you don’t even have to wear all 5 – I mean, obviously not – but the twins will have met their base goal and we can, I mean, would, stop selling the rest of the product immediately.”

Fred, George and Lee stared at Hermione like she had three heads.  McGonagall’s wrinkled face mirrored a similar expression.  Hermione held out her notebook to show their professor her calculations and track of inventory.  Professor McGonagall took it from her and flipped through the few pages of the notebook with a gentle touch.  Her expression changed as she looked through the various ledgers Hermione had made.

“These boys are very fortunate to have you, Miss Granger,” McGonagall said after a moment.  Her mouth had softened from a determined line to a smile and her eyes weren’t as fierce – they were kind.  She looked over the numbers one more time and handed the notebook back to Hermione.  The professor seemed to be deliberating something in her mind and looked back and forth between the four Gryffindor students before her for several seconds.

Finally, she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.  “If I say no to this little arrangement, are you boys going to continue selling the pins anyway?”

Fred and George perked up.  There was hope.  “Probably,” Fred admitted.

“Even if it means getting detention?” McGonagall asked. 

George smirked as he spoke.  “Professor, today’s the last day of the school year, detention seems pretty pointless to me.”

McGonagall sighed.  “Alright – if you’re saying that I must buy your desistance – I guess supporting Potter is a good reason to do it.”

Hermione brought her notebook up to her face to cover her mouth so that McGonagall wouldn’t see her impish grin.  Fred and George held up their hands in surrender while Lee simply shrugged.

“At the end of the day, it’s your call, Professor,” Lee said at last.  “No one is forcing you to buy the pins.  But I mean, if you were to make this once in a lifetime purchase, you would be representing the noble house of Gryffindor and the Chosen One, himself.  And that is worth more than any amount of money that happens to be in your leather coin purse.”  Mr. Jordan leaned forward as if he could spot the mentioned coin purse amongst McGonagall’s many layers of robes.  Hermione nudged him with an elbow.

McGonagall, realizing she was getting a dressing down from Lee, shot him a warning glance and smirked, her eyes sparked with mirth.   

“Now, really, Mr. Jordan, you can stop looking me up and down like I’m one of your dates!  You won’t be able to tell where my coin purse by just looking at my robes.”

Hermione was caught off guard by McGonagall’s words and laughed so hard in surprise that she snorted.  Lee shot her a reproachful look and Hermione cleared her throat, looking away from the sixth-year quickly.  George, not wanting to lose momentum, spoke up quickly. 

“So, what will it be, Professor?” he asked.  “Freddie and I are business men, after all.”

“Real entrepreneurs, you could say,” Fred added. 

McGonagall rolled her eyes, still smirking, and looked up at the twins.  “What’s your final offer again, Mr. Weasley?” she asked of Fred.  The Weasley boy grinned and jumped at the opportunity to shine.

He gestured over to Hermione with a fan of his right hand.  “Professor McGonagall, if you take the lovely advice of my beautiful girlfriend and business associate, and purchase our last five Potter pins, we still stop persistently asking people to purchase our products and punctually go down to the Quidditch pitch.  Come on, Professor!  Please?” he asked.  “Get us to our goal and we will never pull a prank again!”

McGonagall crossed her arms.  “Fredrick Weasley, the day I believe that you and your brother will stop playing pranks is the day that you lot become best friends with Mr. Malfoy,” she replied. 

George held up an arm, pointing at the Deputy Headmistress.   “Fine!  We won’t pull a single prank for the rest of the school year, then!” he bargained.

The Scottish witch cocked her head and regarded the four of them with a small grin.  Finally, she gave her head a little shake and reached into one of the inner pockets of her robes, pulling out her coin purse. 

“Alright,” she said reluctantly.  “Here you two go.”  She handed over the correct change that they asked for and received the last 5 Potter pins.  She placed one on the left breast of her robe and then pocketed the other four.  She then looked to George.  “But don’t think that bargain worked,” she said with a cheeky smile.  “As you all so graciously reminded me earlier, today is the last technical day of the school year… You weren’t about to pull the wool over my eyes.”

The twins shrugged and Lee smiled.  “It was worth a shot,” he said from behind the twins.  “But thank you, Professor, for supporting the most noble of causes.”

The Transfiguration Professor smiled knowingly and looked down at the pin on her robe.  “Yes, well, Potter deserves our support today.”  She patted Fred on the right shoulder.  “You two go back to the common room now and put away the rest of your things, you don’t want to be late getting down to the pitch.” 

She gave them a little wave farewell and left their company, heading back over to the exposed stone corridors that surrounded the courtyard.  They watched as she took a Potter pin out of her pocket and handed it to Pomfrey, who fastened it to her dress.  Fred and George turned around to face Hermione and Lee, grinning like Cheshire cats.

Fred spoke first.  “You’re brilliant for compromising with McGonagall for us.  Thank you for helping us reach our goal, Hermione.”  He kissed her deeply and cradled her cheek with his right hand.  George cleared his throat but they ignored him.  Then it was Lee’s turn to cough loudly.  Hermione giggled against Fred’s lips and pulled away.  She reached a hand up to his fringe and gently swept some of the longer pieces out of his eyes.  It was getting long.  She should cut it over the summer when she visited at the Burrow.

“Can I help you?” she asked, looking to her boyfriend’s twin and best friend. 

“You can help us by getting a room,” Lee joked.  Hermione’s mouth dropped open.  Fred, however, was unfazed.

“We have a whole summer to get a room,” he replied confidently.  Hermione blushed.  The Weasley boy wrapped his left arm around Hermione’s waist and started to lead the way back into the castle.  His lips brushed the top of her head and when he spoke again, his tone was only loud enough for her ears to hear.  “Maybe I could tie you up with my tie.  Would you like that, Granger?” he teased.  Hermione’s breath hitched and she nodded.  They continued to walk but she snuggled a little closer into his side. 

“I’m going to have to tell Mum that we can’t be in the same room this summer,” George said with a snicker as he and Lee followed behind the happy couple.  “I can’t be in a room with those two.”

“I really don’t think Mum would ever allow us to be alone in the same room together,” Fred said from his place at Hermione’s side.  “Unless we either had a chaperone or the door was wide open.”

Now it was Hermione’s turn to snicker.  “I’m a complete sweetheart, anyway, George,” she promised her boyfriend’s twin.  “You wouldn’t see, or hear, anything inappropriate.”

George faked being sick and Lee laughed loudly as they entered the castle.  The foursome talked happily of their plans for the upcoming summer as they travelled along the castle corridors and the Grand Staircase.  Hermione explained that she only planned upon seeing her parents for a few weeks before she headed to the Burrow to spend time with Fred, Ron and the rest of the Weasleys.  The fact that Hermione’s parents were dentists was brought up during said conversation and Lee had become fascinated by the profession, wanting to know all about it.  Hermione had just started to explain about fluoride and flossing when they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, who mercifully stopped the Muggle-born witch and didn’t allow Lee to ask further questions.

They entered the common room and while Fred, George and Lee went upstairs to work through the twins’ earnings, Hermione walked over to where Ron sat at one of the wooden furniture sets, the high tables with the tall chairs.  She sat down across from him and put down her notebook on the polished wood surface.  Ron didn’t look up from the chess set that had been placed in the middle of the table. 

“Harry’s already gone down then?” she asked softly.  Ron nodded.  Hermione sighed and reached forward to touch the back of her best friend’s hand lightly with her fingers.  “What’s wrong, Ron?”  She watched the freckled wizard blink a few times and he looked up at her slowly.  His expression wasn’t sad or distant, just pensive.

“I’m actually worried for him on this one, Hermione,” he admitted.  “I know in the first task, he battled the dragon and that was scary enough.  In the second one, without the Gillyweed, he probably wouldn’t have been able to figure out how to safely finish the task at all.”  Ron took a deep breath.  “But in this task, I’ve heard he has to battle even more creatures, and possibly even duel against the other Champions.  I mean, Harry is brilliant, but he can’t go up against Cedric, Krum or Fleur.  He doesn’t know as much magic.”

Hermione felt her throat get tight.  Ron’s words evoked emotion from her and echoed what Fred, George and Lee had overheard the professors discussing back in March.  They both cared for Harry as if he was their brother – it was nerve-wracking to see him be constantly put into these fearful situations.  She slipped off her chair and moved around the table to wrap her arms around Ron’s neck, giving him a strong hug, and she turned her head to rest her chin on top of her right arm.  Having been friends for so long, their communication was often wordless and she didn’t need to give Ron a big speech right now for him to know that she felt the same.

Tears sprung into her eyes and she fought to keep them at bay.  Only when she thought her voice wouldn’t crack did she speak.  “Ron, they’re not going to let anything bad happen to him,” she murmured.  “They’re not going to let anything bad happen to any of us.”

Ron slowly wrapped his arms around Hermione’s waist and she felt him squeeze once.  “I reckon you’re right,” he said as they pulled apart.  “Sorry – I got a bit ahead of myself there.”

Hermione hastily wiped at her eyes and then gave Ron a small smile.  “The best way we can help is support him and cheer him on loudly,” she said.  “He needs that, from all of us.  If we’re not scared, he won’t be.”

Fred, George and Lee returned to the common room.  “Right, shall we go find the others?” Lee asked.  “I think Angelina and Alicia were saving the whole lot of us a bench in the pitch stands.”

Hermione fought the urge to grimace.  Angelina was still a sore subject for her and Fred but she had seen improvement in Angelina’s behaviour since she had returned to school in the middle of February.  She crossed the room over to Fred and wrapped her arms around his middle gently.  Fred peered downward and noticed her slightly red eyes.

“Hermione, what’s wrong?” he asked quietly.  “Have you been crying?” He looked from his girlfriend to his younger brother.  “What did you say to her, did you make her cry?”

Hermione quickly shook her head. “No, Freddie – it’s not Ron.  We’re just, um…”. The brunette lowered her arms from around her boyfriend and ran her palms along her denim-clad thighs to stop them from sweating.  At the same time, her body shifted from foot to foot.  “We’re just worried about Harry.”

Fred sighed and Hermione watched as George and Lee knowingly nodded behind her boyfriend.  She felt Fred’s lips brush against the top of her head.

“Let’s go cheer our boy on, shall we?”  He ran his hands along his arms quickly to soothe her.  She nodded and wiped once more at the imminent tears that threatened to fall.  The group of Gryffindors then gathered together and headed out of the common room.  On the Grand Staircase, they ran into Ginny and she joined their little squad.   They quickly travelled throughout the remainder of the castle, under the clock tower and past the bridge onto the grassy grounds of Hogwarts school.  They had to travel down around a curve and slip along a slope of hill and then… they saw it. 

Now that the enchantments of secrecy had been lifted, they could see that one half of the Quidditch pitch had been altered.  It had been lowered to ground level.  That same half of the Quidditch pitch was now covered with tall hedges, around fifteen feet high.  They were dark green and mist poured out of the four openings that were ready to welcome each of the Champions.  As they moved closer to the altered pitch, Hermione observed that the hedges formed an expansive maze.  This maze stretched out well-beyond the borders of the Hogwarts grounds, along the Scottish landscape, and almost all the way out to the far mountains.  Hermione’s mouth dropped open.

“How on earth did they cover all of this up?” she said in an awed murmur.  “We couldn’t even see that the pitch had been lowered... This is incredible!”  From the corner of her eye, she caught Fred staring at her and she closed her mouth. “What?” she asked, sheepish.  Fred chuckled and wrapped his left arm around her shoulders. 

“Magic, darling.  Magic,” he said proudly.  “Come on then, let’s find Alicia and Angelina.”

The side of the Quidditch pitch that continued to exist had significantly been lowered as well. The stands rose about ten feet from the ground and the actual benched bleacher seating continued upward for another twenty feet, marking about fifteen rows per section.  The banners that hung on the front of each section of bleachers bore the crests of the Triwizard Tournament and the Ministry of Magic, in colours of muted gold and warm chestnut brown.  In the stands, students and teachers alike held up large makeshift flags and banners, showing support for their favourite Triwizard Champion.  From the third quadrant of the stands, there was a group of students that played several brass instruments.  They played upbeat music, lively with punched beats coming from the tubas and trombones.  In the second quadrant, Hermione spotted Alicia and Angelina.  They had tried to save as many spots as they could but as other students had showed up first, they had had to adjust.  Fred dropped his arm from around Hermione’s shoulders and took hold of her left hand with his right instead.  He started to lead her towards Alicia and Angelina.  As they passed through the other students, teachers and visiting family members that were all passing through the grass to get to their seats, Hermione overheard bits and pieces of conversation, where people discussed who would win the Triwizard Cup. 

“I think Fleur is going to win!  It would be so great for a girl to win against all of these boys!” came a voice as they pushed by.

“Krum is definitely going to win,” said a Durmstrang student to his friend in the crowd. “He is the fastest –“

“Maybe in ze air,” a Beauxbatons student teased as she and another Beauxbatons girl pushed by, having also overheard the Durmstrang boy.  “But ’ave you seen Viktor walk around ze castle?  ’E eez an absolute clod on land!”

Fred continued to lead the rest of their group forward through the throngs of people.  Ron was helping Ginny get through and Lee and George brought up the rear.  Ginny stumbled and fell into Hermione’s back with a squeak.  Ron helped right his little sister and continued to guide her, making sure her footing was alright.  They made it to the stairs to climb up into the stands and had to split up a little based on available seating.    Since Hermione and Ron wanted to sit as close as they could to the front of the stands, so that Harry could see them, they chose the two empty spaces three rows in, beside Seamus.  They sat behind Dean, who turned around and gave Ron a high-five.  “

We’re the Harry cheering squad!” Dean yelled over the noise.  “This whole section is supporting Potter!”  He flashed his Potter pin that he had bought earlier off Fred and George before he turned back around and started wildly cheering.  “Potter, Potter, Potter!”

In the next row up, Parvati and Padma sat on the end of the row, directly behind Ron and Hermione.  Angelina and Alicia sat next to the Patil twins on the right side of Padma, with Neville beside them on Angelina’s right.  Neville waved to Ginny and patted the bench next to him. 

“I’ve got you a seat right here, Ginny!” he called and Hermione watched as a grateful smile spread on Ginny’s face.  The youngest Weasley moved to go and sit beside her friend.  Lastly, Fred gave Hermione a kiss, one that made Ron advert his eyes and sigh, and then he joined George and Lee sitting beside two second-years in the sixth row up, behind Alicia and Angelina.  The second-year girls were holding a large homemade banner made from a yellow fabric that read “We love you, Harry!” and a bunch of the second-year girls had signed it.  Maybe they were planning on giving it to him afterward as a gift.

Hermione noticed that there were more Ministry officials at this event than at the last two.  This was most likely due to Barty Crouch Senior’s death.  They sat in the stands with the teachers and visiting families, all dressed in thick black velvet cloaks with black fastenings.  Rita Skeeter was sat at the very back of the stands, far behind the families, her Quick Quotes quill poised and ready at any moment.  From her vantage point at the end of her row, Hermione was able to watch as more people arrived without an obstructed view.  Molly and Arthur Weasley arrived, there to support both Harry and Cedric, since Arthur was a friend of Amos Diggory’s.  Molly spotted Ron and Hermione and gave them a little wave.  Hermione waved back and watched as the Weasley parents sat down.  She couldn’t spot Amos Diggory amongst the other professors, parents or visiting officials.  She supposed he might be with Cedric down wherever the Champions waited.  Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, sat at the very front of the stands on the edge of his seat.

After about a half hour, the clouds covered up the sun and the sky took on a dull grey hue.  It was nearing twilight hour and the tournament was officially ready to start.  The students’ band, encouraged by the now-full crowd, started to play a more pompous and livelier tune.  Professor Flitwick, the Charms professor, stood on the grass of the pitch and conducted the band with his wand, his arm making sharp and lively movements indicating the emphatic notes and tempo. 

McGonagall stood from her place in the stands and raised her wand to her throat. 

“Thank you all for being here,” she said, her voice taking on an air of pride.  It echoed throughout the pitch.  “Today is a momentous occasion!  It is time for the Third and final task!  On behalf of Professor Dumbledore, and the entirety of Hogwarts school, I welcome our visiting families, schools and Ministry officials once again!  In a few short moments, the Champions will begin to emerge from under the stands and I would like all of us to give them the grand entrance that they so deserve!”

McGonagall looked down momentarily at her Potter pin, proudly displayed upon the chest of her robes as the crowd started to go wild.  Hermione cupped her hands around her mouth and started chanting Harry’s name.  Ron mirrored her actions, screaming loudly amongst the crowd.  “Harry!  Harry!”  Their whole section was a sea of red and black, dotted with the yellow of the homemade banners and flags.  Potter pins sparkled and shone on every chest!  From the rows behind, Hermione could hear Ginny, Neville, Fred and George chant for Harry in the same way, or they had given way to their own choruses of “Potter!  Potter!”

Amos Diggory was the first to emerge from underneath the stands, crossing onto the pitch at a jog.  He turned with a flourish of his tweed cape, the olive-green hue offset against his mustard yellow waistcoat underneath, and held out his left arm, proudly gesturing to the lower area of stands.  Cedric Diggory came out of the doorway next and sauntered over to his proud father.  He puffed up his chest as he looked at the crowded stands, not oblivious to the fact that most of the Hogwarts students, and even some of the professors, screamed some variation of his name.  His lips curled up into an astonished smile and he shared a look with his father, gobsmacked.  He looked down at his yellow and black Champions jersey and Hermione watched him run his fingers along the fabric, as if what this all meant had finally sunken in.  This was it.

The next Champion to emerge from below was Fleur Delacour, in a powder-blue velvet tracksuit that matched the blue of the Beauxbatons uniform.  She was followed out by Madame Maxime, who wore a well-tailored ink-black pantsuit.  From their quadrant of the stands, the Beauxbatons girls sang a chant loudly to support their Champion.

“Allez-y, Fleur Delacour!  Nous sommes tellement fiers de vous!  Allez-y, Fleur Delacour!  Nous sommes tellement fiers de vous!”

As they sang, the Beauxbatons students danced, alternating their hand placements on their elbows, shoulders, head and hips.  Their dancing momentarily distracted Ron, whose mouth dropped open.  Hermione noticed out of the corner of her eye and nudged her best friend.  “Will you focus?” she hissed as she turned her attention back to the pitch below.  “Harry’s about to come out!”

“How am I supposed to focus when they wiggle like that?” Ron asked with a chuckle.  “You know I like how they walk, Hermione, now look at how good they look when they dance!”

Hermione rolled her eyes.  “Boys,” she muttered under her breath.   Ron had the decency to look sheepish.

Viktor Krum walked out next with all the confidence of a lion closing in on its kill.  He pumped his fists up into the air and screamed, a deep and guttural sound, a war cry.  Karkaroff followed out after him, bringing his hand up to his lips to kiss his Durmstrang ring, almost as if in prayer. Viktor seemed to be searching the stands for something, his gaze flitting back and forth.  When his eyes locked on Hermione, he put his hand over his heart and bowed his head once, breaking eye contact only once Hermione had nodded her head in return.  The Bulgarian Seeker then turned around to puff up the crowd once more.  From their place in the stands, Hermione spotted Malfoy, Goyle and Crabbe cheering wildly for Krum, with Crabbe even having Krum’s last name painted on his forehead.  The young men of Durmstrang chanted Krum’s last name over and over again, their deep voices resonating throughout the stands. 

Lastly, Professor Dumbledore exited from underneath the stands followed by a hesitant Harry.  Hermione watched as Dumbledore turned and clapped a hand onto Harry’s right shoulder in support and solidarity.  As they moved to stand in the middle of the pitch, Harry looked around and slowly smiled.  The show of support seemed to shock him just as much as it had for Cedric.  When Hermione realized that Harry looked to their section, she motioned for everyone to shout for him.

Hermione cupped her hands to her mouth once more and shouted as loud as she could to be heard.  “You can do it, Harry!” she screamed.

Ron pumped his fist into the air, excitement running through him.  “You’ve got this, mate!” 

Fred and George could be heard amongst all the din, saying “Get the cup!  Get the cup!”

Ginny, Neville, Seamus and Dean all wordlessly screamed and cheered for their Champion, all smiles as they shouted and yelled their admiration.  The two second-year girls beside Fred and George waved their banner wildly, screaming Harry’s name.  Hermione noticed that Harry had spotted the banner and he seemed to blush and turn away.

Dumbledore had reached the podium in the middle of the grassy pitch.  He placed his right hand on top of the podium, an imposing position, and raised his wand to his throat with his left hand. 

“Sonorus!” he bellowed.

The crowd stopped cheering and there was a hurried shuffle of several hundred people all sitting down at once.  The band ceased playing, their last notes of music dwindling off, and sat down as well, holding their instruments between their knees.  Flitwick tucked his wand away and turned to face Professor Dumbledore.  The Headmaster of Hogwarts School waited until all eyes were upon him, commanding full attention, before he spoke again.

“Earlier today, Professor Moody placed the Triwizard Cup deep within the maze.  Only he knows its exact position.  Now, as Mr. Diggory…”

The crowd went wild as they cheered for Cedric.  Amos Diggory lifted his son’s right hand up into the air triumphantly, much to the embarrassment of Cedric, who quickly pulled his hand down and Hermione watched him mutter some words in protest.

Dumbledore tried to continue.  “And Mr. Potter…”

The crowd grew even louder for Harry; Hermione and Ron were on their feet screaming as loud as they could.  Even Professor McGonagall even stood up from her place in the stands and waved her fist in the air in excitement, making Harry smile even more.

“- are tied for first position, they will be the first to enter the maze.  Followed by Mr. Krum…”

As the young men of Durmstrang roared their approval, Viktor pumped his fist into the air.  Karkaroff waved his hands in the air, encouraging the crowd to be even louder, beckoning them to raise their voices.

“Come on!  Come on!” he hollered.

“And Miss Delacour,” Dumbledore finished.  The cheers from the Beauxbatons supporters were full of heart and Hermione watched Fleur steel herself and set her jaw.  Even though Fleur wasn’t the Hogwarts Champion, Hermione supposed that just a little part of her would root for the Beauxbatons student, too.  She was a girl after all, going up against three boys.  Fleur clutched her wand tightly in her hand.

Moody emerged out of the fog-filled maze as Dumbledore pressed on.

“The first person to touch the cup will be the winner!” the old wizard exclaimed enthusiastically.  Once again, the whole crowd was on their feet, cheering, shouting and stamping.  Flags flew proudly in the air, banners drifted boastfully in the sky.

“I’ve instructed the staff to patrol the perimeter.  Should, at any point, a contestant wish to withdraw from the task, he or she need only send up red sparks with their wands.  Contestants, gather round! Quickly!”  Dumbledore descended from the podium as the audience’s cheering died down.  Hermione gulped hard as her own screaming stopped, fearing the familiar ache of sore vocal chords.  She feared she might go hoarse simply from this. 

The gathered crowed was silent as they watched Dumbledore join into a huddle with Harry, Cedric, Viktor and Fleur..  Whether he was giving them words of encouragement or caution, she couldn’t tell.  When the huddle broke apart a minute later, Harry’s facial expression didn’t give anything away either.  Dumbledore stood up to his fullest height and took a deep breath, shouting again.

“Champions, prepare yourselves!”

The crowd started to applaud once more as the Champions walked to their four different maze entrances.  Hermione rose to her feet once more.  She watched as Harry moved to stand beside Professor Moody.  The two shared a glance.  Then Harry looked over to Cedric, who nodded as he left the embrace of his father and moved to stand at his own entrance.  Did they have some sort of understanding?  Were they going to help each other get to the Cup?  The canon, set off by Mr. Filch, resounded with a large boom, and those in the stands covered their ears.  Hermione watched as Harry turned around to face the open mouth of the maze.  Moody patted Harry’s right shoulder twice, to reassure him, and Harry took a hesitant step instead the maze.  Then another.  Another still. 

When he was about four feet into the maze, the branches of the maze started to move on their own and sealed shut behind him.  Hermione’s breath caught in her throat as the realization hit her.  Harry was truly alone in there.  For once, she and Ron couldn’t help him through. 

Her left hand gripped at the fabric of Ron’s sleeve and she tugged to get his attention. 

“Oi!” Ron exclaimed.  “What are you on about?”  His gaze flickered from her face to Harry’s appointed entrance, now impossible to detect.  In fact, the only indication it had ever been there at all was the fact that Harry’s Champion crest remained fixed to the outer hedge wall.  Cedric’s had also closed behind him.

“He’s going to be scared,” Hermione said, her voice shaken.  “Ron, he’s going to be terrified now that it’s closed.”  Ron was quick to pat Hermione’s back softly.

“He can make it, Hermione, okay? All he has to do is get through the maze.  If someone happens to grab the Cup before him, who cares?  He doesn’t have to win.”

“But what’s in there?” Hermione asked.  “Ron, they’ve said nothing!”

“What if it’s just an empty maze?” said Ginny from the row behind them.  “What if it’s just twists and turns and that’s all this is?”

Ron shook his head quickly, as did Neville from beside Ginny.  “There’s no way,” Neville said finally.  “Not with it being the Triwizard Tournament.  There’s definitely something more sinister in there than just leaves and hedges.”

In unison, their eyes all adverted back to the maze.  Viktor and Fleur must have gone in by now as their marked entrances to the maze were sealed shut.  Dumbledore motioned for Karkaroff, Amos Diggory and Mad-Eye Moody to come stand in the middle of the pitch with him to chat amicably.  Hermione watched as Professors Sprout, Trelawney and Burbage, as well as Madame Hooch, all took to the skies on their brooms to start circling the maze.  The crowd died down now and all gathered seemed to collectively realize that they had no way of knowing how long this task was going to take.  Hermione saw that some of the other students had brought books, board games and sweets.  She turned to look over her shoulder and noticed that Fred had produced a deck of playing cards from his pocket, a Muggle set of cards that she had given him.  The Muggle-born witch motioned for Ron to follow her up the stairs and they joined Fred and George.  Hermione moved to sit on Fred’s lap and Ron pushed between George, Lee and the two second-year girls, who gave Ron disapproving looks.

“What are you playing?” she asked as she rested her head against Fred’s.  Fred wrapped his right arm around her waist.

“We are going to play the Muggle game ‘Go Fish’ like you taught me, I haven’t played with George yet.   Can you explain the rules to him, love, while I deal him the cards?”

Hermione grinned and looked down as Fred shuffled the cards and dealt them between himself and George.  “I taught Ron last summer,” she said as she motioned to her best friend with a nod of her chin.  She then looked to Lee, who grinned.  “Maybe we could play a game between the five of us?”  She cleared her throat.  “Anyway, the goal of the game is to pair up all the cards in your hand and set them aside, until you have no cards left.  You put down any pairs you are dealt but in order to win, you have to ask the other players if they have cards in their hand that would make pairs of yours, so that you can rid of them.  If someone asks you and you have the card, you must hand it over.  If you don’t have the card, you tell them to “Go Fish!” and then they fish another card from the stacked deck of cards in between you.”

George smirked.  “Ah, so it’s a game about deceit!” he said, triumphantly.  Hermione snorted and her brows furrowed together. 

“How do you figure that?” Ron asked before Hermione could.  George continued grinning like an idiot.

“Well, you lie so that the other person doesn’t get your cards and then you end up winning!” George replied.  Hermione rolled her eyes, Fred pushed lightly on George’s chest and Lee laughed quietly.  Ron shook his head slowly.

“That is so not the point, mate!” Lee said when he stopped laughing.  “What happened to playing fair square?”

George ran a hand through his long red hair.  “Freddie and I have never played fair,” he said.  “Ask Ron – the amount of tricks and pranks we pulled on him was a bit much as kids.”

“As kids?” Ron asked, indignant.  “You still prank me now!”  This caused Fred and George to both burst into chuckles and they high-fived.  Lee shrugged his shoulders and sighed.  The twins would never change.  Hermione swatted the side of Fred’s thigh with her left hand.

“Stop being a bully, you two,” she chided.  “We have a whole summer of being at the Burrow for that.”

This made Fred and George laugh even louder and Ron visibly pouted.  Lee patted Ron on the back to comfort him.   “She’s turning into one of them,” Lee said to Ron, referring to Hermione.  “You can’t save her, mate, she’s too far gone.”

The brunette witch giggled when Ron stuck his tongue out at her and tried to change the subject.  “Okay, let’s play!” she said excitedly.  “George, those are your cards.  Ron, these are yours.”  She motioned for Fred to deal Lee a hand of cards.  She then held out her hand and waited for a hand to be dealt to her as well.  When Fred gave her a set of cards, she turned them in hand and fanned them out, examining what she was dealt.  She was able to put down a pair of Queens from her hand.  Fred put down two pairs.  George put down one.  Ron had one.  Lee didn’t have any pairs.

As the game went on a few rounds, Hermione went down from eight cards to three.  Fred was at five.  Ron was at four.  George was at four.  But Lee, somehow, was ahead and was only down to two.  This was going to be tricky.  There was some cheating involved on Fred’s part to try and get even with George.  When it came to Hermione’s turn again, she found that she was distracted by Professor McGonagall having a discussion with Professor Snape across the way.  She motioned to Ron that she was going to walk over and left her spot in the stands, her absence causing the other two Weasley boys and Lee to scoff since she left had abandoned the game.

“Darling, where are you going?” called Fred as he, too, put his cards down.  Hermione waved him off, wordlessly telling him to stay put.  She adjusted the zip on her jumper and crossed down the stairs, across the pitch and into the other quadrant of stands, up the stairs toward the Deputy Headmistress.

“I like your pin, Professor,” she said knowingly as she approached, nodding her chin toward McGonagall’s robes.  The older witch, confused momentarily at being interrupted, smiled softly at Hermione.

“Thank you, Miss Granger, I bought it off some very clever salesmen and their associates,” she replied.  She made to turn back to continue speaking to Snape but Hermione cleared her throat.  This time, both of the professors’ heads turned.  Snape huffed, clearly annoyed, and looked down at her with his dark eyes.

“Miss Granger, what could you possibly want?” he asked.  Hermione gulped.

“I was only wondering if anyone knew what was exactly inside the maze,” she asked.  “We would like to know what Harry and the others are up against.”  McGonagall sighed.

“I suppose Professor Dumbledore didn’t make that clear,” she muttered under her breath.  Hermione fought the urge to smirk.  “Well, in any case, you all deserve to know, since we will be waiting out here a fair while yet.”  She stood up and dusted off the front of her velvet green robes with her weathered hands.  “Severus, would you mind handing me your wand?” she asked.  “I can’t seem to find mine in my pocket, och, the bloody thing is missing!”  The Scottish wizard lifted her spectacles onto the bridge of her nose and squinted down at the inner pockets of her robes, as if to somehow spot her missing wand.  Snape looked between Hermione and McGonagall and produced his wand. It was made of a dark wood with an intricately carved handle.  The older witch took hold of the handle lightly and turned the wand thrice in her hand.  Hermione watched as McGonagall looked to where Dumbledore continued to confer with Moody, Karkaroff and Madame Maxime about how the Champions should fare.

“Right,” the Deputy Headmistress said before clearing her throat.  “Sonorus.”  She pressed the tip of Snape’s wand to her throat and cleared her throat again.  The sound echoed through the pitch.

“May I have your attention, please?” she asked of the crowd.  Several heads turned at once as they looked for the speaker and when all eyes found McGonagall, the Transfiguration professor found it an appropriate time to continue.  “Thank you, everyone!  Now, as we are all here wishing our Champions a safe and happy return, we feel as though you should know that each of them will be facing inside the maze.  As you may expect, the Champions will have to face each other in a duel if necessary.”

Here, she paused to allow for the cheers and applause to break out.  The people that were gathered screamed the names of their chosen Champion, clapped their hands and stamped their feet to show their pride.  After a few moments, she held up her right hand to motion for them to be silent and continued. 

“However, if our Champions only had to duel each other, that would be too easy.  Therefore, there are some surprises for them waiting inside the maze.  The first obstacle they may face is a Boggart.  The second, a gold mist that will alter their perception and flip their world upside down.  The third, a Blast-Ended Skrewt.  The fourth, an obstacle that Ravenclaws would love, a sphinx with a riddle that will not let one pass unless the riddle is solved.  And lastly, an Acromantula from the Forbidden Forest.”

Excited chatter buzzed throughout the stands. Hermione watched Ron’s face pale – the rumours had been right. McGonagall raised an eyebrow and they quietened.

“We may be waiting a while for our Champions to return to us,” she continued.  “Therefore, you are more than welcome to head up to the castle for some refreshment in the Great Hall or to gather some items to entertain yourselves with, including playing cards, books and board games.  If you could all gather by Mr. Filch, he will take a group of you up to the castle at time.”

Mr. Filch looked incredulous.  “I am, ma’am?” he asked.  McGonagall smirked and chuckled softly.

“Of course, you are, Argus,” the Deputy Headmistress replied.  “Now, if you could all make your way towards Mr. Filch if you would like to go up to the castle, that would be greatly appreciated.  We will be quick to summon you back if anything happens.”

Hermione smiled as Professor McGonagall returned to her seat.  Some students and visiting family had begun to shift in the stands as they rose and tried to shuffle along, ready to head to the castle with the caretake.  The brunette moved out of the way as people started to file down the stairs.  “Professor, one more thing,” she said as she stepped forward on the grass pitch.  “When the Cup is found, what shall we do?”

“We plan to have a feast this evening,” McGonagall replied, looking quite proud.  “The banners in the Great Hall will reflect upon the winner and we will all eat and be merry, celebrating the Tournament.”  She handed Snape’s wand back to him and the Potions professor pocketed it quickly.  “Go back to your friends, Miss Granger, and enjoy your evening.  I’d imagine you’ll be speaking of your summer holidays, I hope you make plans that keep you happy and well-entertained.”

Snape still looked quite miffed at the fact that Hermione had interrupted them at all.  “Yes, Miss Granger, do head back as quick as you can,” he commented.  “I believe Professor McGonagall and I were in the middle of conversation, anyway.” 

The brightest witch took her leave and headed back into her original quadrant of the stands.  Fred stood up from his seat as she approached and smirked.

“Did you really just go up there, bold as can be, and cut off Snape in the middle of his conversation?” he asked of her.  Hermione stood in place and gave a little curtsy.  Ron gave her a half-hearted applause.  Lee and George grinned from ear-to-ear.

“You’ve got a death wish, Granger,” George commented.  “An absolute death wish.”

“At least we know what’s in the maze, now,” Hermione said without regrets.  She motioned for Fred to sit back down.  When he did, she placed her hands on his shoulders and rubbed gently.  “So, who is winning at “Go Fish”, gentlemen?” she asked.

Neville and Ginny had decided to watch the game and had been placing bets with chocolate Galleons on who would win.  “They split up your cards amongst them,” Neville explained.  “So, it’s been a pretty even fight.  They’re all down to their last three cards.  It’s Ron’s turn.”

Ron fanned out his cards in between his hands.  “I’m ready to crush you,” he promised Fred, George and Lee.  His gaze flickered to the cards in his hands.  “When I win, you will weep.”  Hermione rolled her eyes at her best friend’s words.

“Yes, Ronald, the world will weep forever and ever,” she said sarcastically.  “Pick your card and get a move on.”

Ron looked up from his cards to Hermione.  “You know, you’re cheeky now that you’re with him,” he commented, nodding in his older brother’s direction.  He looked almost hurt.  Fred and Hermione smiled softly.  Hermione muttered ‘Sorry’ without vocalizing.  Ron’s attention went back to his cards and his eyes focused upon one in particular.  He opened his mouth to ask one of the other players when –

There was a fizz and a bang and red light illuminated the sky for a brief moment.  There were murmurs of shock amongst the crowd.  One of the Champions had lit distress sparks from their wand inside the maze.  Dumbledore’s head whipped around and he shouted to the Hogwarts professors in the sky.

“Madame Hooch, Professor Sprout, find the Champion in distress and bring them out of the maze!” he ordered.  From their position in the heavens, the Quidditch professor and the Herbology professor nodded and flew off over the maze.  Trelawney and Burbage also set off on a sweep of the maze to see if they could keep an eye upon the other Champions.  Hermione bit her lip and her grip tightened on Fred’s shoulders.  She hoped it wasn’t Harry that needed help.

Within a few minutes, Madame Hooch had returned to the grass-covered pitch of the stands with an unconscious Champion hovering in the air behind her.  She lowered the Champion onto the grass gently and some of the Ministry medi-wizards that had been present at the first task rushed forward.  When they cleared the dirty roots away from the Champion’s body, the crowd in the stands could see the blonde hair, the blue jumpsuit – it was Fleur.  Though she was unconscious, the people gathered could hear her muttering as her eyes flickered beneath closed lids.

Madame Maxime rushed forward and knelt beside her student.  “Oh, ma chère, what happened to you?” she asked.  Her manicured fingers grazed across Fleur’s brow.  The medi-wizards ran their wands over Fleur’s body, performing diagnostics, and assessed that she would wake within a few minutes.  One poured a little vial of liquid into her mouth, helping the aches of her body heal.  They knew the roots and vines would have bruised Fleur’s skin.  Madame Maxime cradled under Fleur’s head with her hands and allowed the medi-wizards to use their wands to lift Fleur from the ground and into the stands, where she could lie down.  They then came over to speak to the Headmaster of Hogwarts.  Words were exchanged and then Dumbledore placed his wand to his throat. 

“Sonorus!” he commanded.  His voice rose into the evening sky.  “It seems that Miss Delacour has been the first Champion to fall in the Third Task.  The medi-wizards have assured us that Miss Delacour will wake soon and that no real harm has come to her.  When she wakes, let’s make note to give Miss Delacour the warmest applause for her efforts and her valiant fight in this Triwizard Tournament.”

There was a small applause.  Hermione craned her head to try and get a better look at Fleur.  She had started to stir already while Madame Maxime dutifully watched over her.  Her little sister, Gabrielle, had left her seat in the stands to be down at her older sister’s side and was running a cold cloth over her forehead.  Curiosity died down and the guests returned to their games and entertainment.  A grouping of witches and wizards left to follow Mr. Filch up to the castle.

It had been about twenty minutes and Fleur was well enough to sit up unassisted upon the bench, although she preferred to lean into her little sister for support.  She was angry at herself for not having won the final task, they could all tell that much from her expression.  The Beauxbatons girls had come down in little groups to offer their condolences for her loss, but told her that they were proud of her accomplishments.  It was a small comfort. 

Those who had gone up to the castle led by Mr. Filch had returned with small sandwiches, tea cakes, finger foods and the like, as well as either hot chocolate or Butterbeer.  George had run up to the castle without the group and had come back down with a little bag of sweets, like assorted chocolates and taffies.  The group of Gryffindors had all enjoyed the special treat.  Lee ended up winning at ‘Go Fish’.  Ron, who had come in second, had been quite chuffed about it. 

Just as they were about to start another round of cards, a wind swept through the maze with a hurricane force.  It whipped the hair of those in the stands and swept the playing cards out of the hands of the Gryffindors, who complained as the loss.  Their complaining was cut short as they stared in wonder and horror – the maze was changing.  Due to the winds, the paths and hedges shifted, the greenery morphed. The paths nearest the centre of the maze twisted and closed, tightened and turned.  There was a flash of blue light from the middle of the maze.  It shone brightly for a flash of a second, illuminating the entire sky, and ended just as quickly as it had started.  The wind stopped and the hedges were immobile once more.  What just happened?

Dumbledore shouted for the four Hogwarts professors to close in from the perimeter and go and see what had happened in the maze.  Burbage and Trelawney were the first to reach the middle of the maze, hovering over a spot near where the blue light had flashed.  The two witches pointed their wands down towards the ground and the waiting crowd could see a body being levitated out of the maze.  Just as tenderly as Hooch had handled Fleur, Burbage and Trewlawney flew back towards the pitch on their broomsticks with the Champion’s body carefully trailing through the air behind them.  After what seemed like forever, the two witches touched down gently onto the grass and lowered the Champion’s body to the ground.  It wasn’t difficult to discern that the extricated Champion was Viktor Krum, based on his build and height.  The medi-wizards rushed forward from the sidelines at the same time as Dumbledore, Karkaroff and Mad-Eye Moody.  Between the three professors and the medi-wizards, there was quite the huddle above Krum.  Hermione’s eyes flickered back and forth as she watched each of the medi-wizards work.

“Dumbledore, what is the meaning of this?” Karkaroff demanded.  “How did this happen?  Under your watch, under all of our noses!” 

“Why don’t you tell me, Karkaroff?” Moody growled.  “You would have been able to do this easily, right before he went in the maze.”

“Enough!” Dumbledore snapped.  “We are not in a position where we can point fingers.  And Alastor, although Karkaroff has a past, it does not define who he is now.”

Alastor sneered.  “Albus, you know I think the world of you and you’re a real saint for wanting to give everyone a second chance but this man – ”  He was cut off by Igor Karkaroff, who stepped forward to get in Moody’s face.

“ – Is a former Death Eater, yes, Mad-Eye!  Yes!” said the Durmstrang Headmaster.   “But so is your colleague over there, Severus Snape, and I do not see you accusing him of doing the same crime!” 

McGonagall and Snape had descended from their seats into the pitch to join the fray. 

“What is the matter with you?” McGonagall exclaimed.  “Heavens, I don’t see what all of the fuss is about!”  Then Hermione saw the Deputy Headmistress look down at Viktor’s form upon the grass and the witch fell silent.  Snape, who had also been watching Viktor, turned to fix his gaze upon Igor. 

“I do not think Karkaroff did this, Headmaster,” he said in his cool drawl, addressing Dumbledore though his eyes remained upon his former Dark colleague.  “What would be the motivation?  If Krum was put under the Imperius curse simply to duel the other champions, that is something that would have been expected to happen anyway.  Igor would have no reason to do this.”  The Durmstrang Headmaster lifted his chin, surveying Snape with a look of equal frigidity.  A murmur went out over the crowd.  Viktor Krum had been put under the Imperius curse?  The change in the crowd’s attitude did not go unnoticed by the Hogwarts Headmaster.  Dumbledore stroked the end of his beard, contemplating what to do, and paced back and forth for several moments.  A few of the Ministry officials spoke with the Minister of Magic in the stands and then took to the skies on brooms of their own, adding security to the event.  Fudge then descended from the stands, himself, and crossed over to Dumbledore.

“Albus, this can’t go on,” Hermione heard the Minister say.  “One child attacked by vines, the other under the Imperius curse… this is getting out of hand!”

Dumbledore sighed.  “We cannot simply stop the event, Cornelius,” he explained.  “The Cup, as we have said so many times this year already, has a magical binding contract that forces the children selected to compete until one of them wins.”

“Well, go and find the other children in the maze!” Fudge snapped.  “Tell one of them to touch it and touch it now so that this can all be over and done with!”

Dumbledore removed his cap and ran a hand through the crown of his hair, visibly frustrated.  “What do you think, Minerva?” he asked of McGonagall.  “Do you think we can put a stop to this?”

Just as McGonagall was about to speak, Madame Hooch flew back towards the crowd.  “The Cup is gone,” she said, her tone sharp and resolute.  “We also cannot spot Diggory or Potter, not anywhere.”

Dumbledore’s eyes widened.  “That’s impossible,” Hermione heard him say.  “They can’t have just disappeared!”  Dumbledore turned to look at Mad-Eye Moody!  “Where did you place it?”

Moody pointed at the edge of the maze.  “I went and hid it in there like you told me to, Albus!”

“Did you do anything to the Cup?” Dumbledore demanded, stepping closer to the ex-Auror.  Moody shook his head.

“Besides putting some additional protective enchantments on it like you asked me to?  No, Dumbledore, I didn’t,” Alastor insisted.  “It is my solemn duty to protect these children and protect the Cup!  The fact that you would accuse me of doing something with the Cup –”

Hermione stopped listening to the professors’ conversation.  Her attention had been redirected to the medi-wizards who had left Krum’s side.  It seemed like they had been able to lift the curse from Viktor.  The Durmstrang student panted heavily as he tried to regain his breath and bearings.

“Viktor,” Hermione murmured.  She started to step into the aisle to head down the stairs when she was stopped by a hand that had gently slipped into hers. 

“I know he’s your friend, Hermione,” came Fred’s voice.  Hermione didn’t take her eyes off of Viktor laying on the grass.  “But give him a few minutes to get his bearings.”  A few of the Durmstrang boys had come down from their place in the stands to kneel around Viktor, ready to support him.  “You see?  He has help, he’s going to be fine, just breathe.”  His left hand, the one that wasn’t holding hers, ran along her left arm to soothe her.  “We’re all going to be fine.”

“But they can’t find Harry or Cedric,” came Ron’s voice.  “What do they mean that they can’t find them?  Surely, they must be in there somewhere, they can’t just disappear.”

George shrugged.  “They’re in there,” he said, his tone final.  “They’re in there and they’re okay.  One of them will have grabbed the Cup by now.”

“I want to know what that flash of blue light was,” said Lee.  “Did you lot see that?  It was so bright!”

Everyone nodded.  Strange things were happening, making them all uneasy.

Hermione watched as Dumbledore said something to Professor Snape.  The Potions professor nodded and raised his wand to his throat.  It appeared that an announcement was going to be made.

 “Sonorus,” Snape demanded and the crowd’s collective gaze focused upon him.  He looked down to Krum and back up to the crowd.  “It appears that the Durmstrang Champion, Viktor Krum, was placed under the Imperius curse inside the maze.  When the event is over, he will be assessed by our Healer, Madame Pomfrey, prior to returning to Bulgaria tomorrow with his peers and Headmaster.”  He continued to talk as the crowd began to whisper and murmur.  “Mr. Diggory and Mr. Potter still remain active participants of the Third Task.”  Snape lowered his wand from his throat and tucked it back into his robe. 

As he turned around, a voice rang out over the crowd, piercing and shrill.  Rita Skeeter had stood up to make herself visible in the stands and had raised her own wand to her throat so that her questions could be heard. 

“Severus, since you’re suddenly the Headmaster’s spokesperson, perhaps you could shed some light on how could this have happened?  How could this have transpired under the noses of Dumbledore, the most powerful wizard we’ve ever known, Alastor Moody, an ex-Auror and two ex-Death Eaters – by that, I mean Karkaroff and yourself,” she questioned.  Snape visibly stiffened.  “Uncomfortable?” Skeeter assessed. “Let’s continue then.   How about the fact that this has all happened under the security of the Ministry officials?”   Rita Skeeter She then fixed her hyper-focused gaze onto the Minster of Magic.  “Or the Minister, for that matter.  Minister, would you care to comment?”  Fudge said nothing. Dumbledore, Karkaroff and Moody all glared up at the journalist. 

Hermione watched as the Headmaster cleared his throat and lifted his wand to his neck.  “If security would kindly escort Miss Skeeter out of the stands and off of Hogwarts grounds, that would be most helpful.  I think I can speak for everyone here when we deem that her presence is harmful and quite unnecessary.”  Skeeter started to protest but Dumbledore talked over her.  “In short, Rita, your services and reporting skills are no longer required here.”  Security started to close in around the witch, whose Quick Quotes Quill had stopped writing.  Hermione smirked as the journalist looked around wildly, flustered. 

Rita’s mouth dropped open.  “Albus, you can’t be serious!” she exclaimed.  “I am the heart of the Daily Prophet, I am how the people get their news - !”

Dumbledore cut the witch off again.  “Good luck writing your article, Miss Skeeter, I look forward to reading it.  I’m sure you’ll have some choice words to say about my actions today.”

The Ministry security drew their wands and motioned for Rita to leave the stands.  Rita snapped her fingers and her Quill and notebook flew into her open bookbag.  The blonde moved into the aisle and started to descend the steps.  As she travelled downward, she looked up from watching her footing and then pointed, redirecting everyone’s attention.

“Look!” she shouted.  “He’s alright, everyone!”  Her Quick Quotes Quill flew back out of her back and furiously started writing on the levitating notepad.  Security even turned around to watch as Viktor Krum slowly sat up from the ground on the pitch.  The crowd erupted into thunderous applause to show how grateful they were that Krum was alright. Hermione broke out into a grin.  When the crowd had become silent once more, Karkaroff moved to kneel at his Champion’s side, placing a hand on his student’s shoulder.  They started speaking in Bulgarian.

“Добре ли си, момчето ми?” (“Are you okay, my boy?”) Karkaroff asked.  Viktor nodded and leaned into the hold that his Headmaster had upon him.

“Не знам какво се случи,” (“I don’t know what happened”), said Krum.  Then he switched to English.  “My head hurts.”

“Take all the time you need to get up,” Moody said, motioning for a few of the Durmstrang boys to move out of the way.  He knelt on Krum’s other side and patted Krum’s cheek with the palm of his right hand.  “I’ve been under the Imperius one too many times in battle, young man, it takes a lot out of you.” 

Krum took a few deep breaths.  The crowd waited with baited breath to hear what the Bulgarian had to say.

“I was walking in the hedges and I had been sprayed by the gold mist.  Everything was upside down,” Krum began.  “There was a pair of boots in front of me, on the ground – except, the ground looked like it was in the sky.  I don’t know, everything was flipped.  Then, I felt my head get cloudy, heavy.  All I wanted to do next was fight the Hufflepuff, that Diggory.  Something was telling me to get him out of the way.”

“Out of the way for what, dear?” McGonagall asked softly.  From where she stood, her hands were clasped together and held tightly against her chest. She was worried.

“For Potter to win,” Krum replied.  “We all had to be out of the way to so that Potter could get to the Cup.” Hermione watched the Bulgarian groan and clutch his head.  “I found the French girl first, the Beauxbatons.  She was getting tangled up in the roots and the vines.  But I left her.  I don’t know who found her, but it wasn’t me that cast the sparks.  I kept walking and I heard a snap behind me.  I saw Potter, hidden amongst the hedges. He was pressed up against them, like he had been hiding from me.   But I kept walking.  We got closer to the middle and I spotted the Cup.  I started to walk towards it but then Diggory came out of the hedges and we started duelling. Potter ran out from another maze path and almost got hit by my Cruciatus curse.  And then, Diggory Disarmed me and I was flung backwards.  I hit the ground and I passed out.  The next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes out here.”

“You tried to cast a Cruciatus curse?” Snape asked of Krum.  “How did you know how to do that?”

Krum shrugged, wincing at the pain the action caused.  “I don’t know,” he answered simply.  “I just heard a voice telling me to do it.  And telling me I had to try and mean it.”

Two medi-wizards put Krum’s arms over their shoulders and lifted, slowly helping the Bulgarian to his feet.  Karkaroff then took over, taking Krum’s left arm from one of the medi-wizards and draping over his own shoulders.  A few Durmstrang students walked around Moody and McGonagall so that they could assist in supporting their fallen Champion and they carried Krum into the stands to sit down.  Dumbledore started conferring with Fudge, quietly enough that no one could hear besides them.  McGonagall and Snape returned to their seats, also talking quietly.  The crowd tried to go back to their activities but it was hard to shake the air of unease that now hung over the stands.  This event had taken a precarious turn.  The maze was quiet – no more wind, no moving hedges.  Amos Diggory had left the grass pitch and moved to sit beside Mr. and Mrs. Weasley again.  Games continued and the conversations about the summer started up, in an attempt to distract from the feeling.

Hermione allowed Fred to bring her down onto his lap.  “So, when you come to the Burrow, are you going to share a room with Ginny then?” he asked.  “I don’t think Percy’s coming home, you could take his room.  Or Charlie’s.”

Hermione shrugged.  “It depends on how many people come to stay, won’t it?” she said with a little smile.  “I mean, if Harry comes, he may not want to room with Ron for once.”

“Excuse you,” Ron said with a smirk.  “Harry’s my best mate, of course he’s going to stay in my room!”

George and Lee laughed.  Then Lee spoke up.  “What if I come to stay for a few weeks?” he asked.  Fred high-fived his best mate.

“You’re more than welcome,” he said.  “You know my mum, she always likes the company.  The more the merrier in the house.”

“We should go swimming,” Ginny suggested from her place in the stands.  “All of us, we should do a group swim at some point!  Like a beach day, with the sun.  A mini-holiday!”  This earned appreciative murmuring all around.

Conversations passed happily for the next few minutes and the overall mood seemed to ease.  Ginny and Hermione volunteered to even bake for the group while they were all together at some point over the summer holiday.  Lee teased Ginny about if she was going to invite a boy to visit over the summer, which made Ginny blush.

“No, I reckon that Mum would kill me if she thought I was even thinking about boys,” Ginny said.  “It’s bad enough that Harry comes to visit.”

George smirked.  “If we go swimming, you can’t ogle the lad the whole time,” he teased.  “I know he’s the Chosen One, Ginny, but he’s a boy, too – a boy with feelings.  You know, he’s not just some man candy.”

Ginny blushed even more.  “Shut up, George,” she muttered and ducked her head down.  Neville’s ears reddened, uncomfortable with the conversation.  Hermione felt a little sorry for Neville.  Perhaps he had had a crush on Ginny after all.

The conversation had switched to talking about what Neville was going to do with his summer when staying with his grandmother.  Neville was explaining that the most entertaining thing he was going to do this summer was learn how to play Bridge with his gran when there was a commotion on the pitch.

Flitwick motioned for the band to start playing again and they returned to that uproaring tune, the one with the lively beat.  Hermione turned her head to look and screamed in delight when she saw the familiar jet-black messy mop that was Harry’s hair.

“It’s Harry!” she screamed, clambering out of her seat.  “He has the Cup!”  She grabbed Ron’s hand and pulled him out of his seat.  “Come on, Ron!”  Others had noticed that Harry had returned and the crowd started to cheer wildly, louder than ever before.  Hermione brought Ron down the steps, with Fred and George, Neville and Ginny following after them.  When they got closer, they saw Harry was kneeling over someone.

“Is that Cedric?” Fred asked.  “That looks like his jersey!”

“Is he hurt?” asked George.  “He’s not moving!”

Fleur rushed forward, about to congratulate Harry, when she stopped in her tracks and screamed.  The sound made Hermione’s blood run cold.  It was a sound of pure fear and shock.  A sound of heartbreak.  Hermione stopped in her tracks. 

Fudge rushed down from the stands to see what was the matter.  “Dumbledore, what is it?  What’s happened?” he asked as he moved to stand over Harry.  Dumbledore knelt down at Harry’s side and tried to help him off of his knees but Harry wouldn’t get up and wouldn’t leave Cedric.  Hermione watched as Harry tried to push Dumbledore off of him, telling him to leave him alone.  When he spoke, he was crying and shouting at the same time, absolutely distraught.

“He’s back!  He’s back!  Voldemort’s back!”

Ron stopped walking and bumped into Hermione.  “What did he say?” he murmured.  “’Mione, did he just say what I thought he said?” But the brunette couldn’t answer – she couldn’t find the words.

The crowd seemingly stood up all at once.  They were all craning their neck to try and get a better look, like they had with Fleur and Viktor.  One thought was at the back of Hermione’s mind: why wasn’t Cedric moving?  McGonagall and Snape walked down from the stands and moved to stand with Dumbledore.  Snape put his hand on Dumbledore’s back and looked down at Harry and Cedric.

“Cedric asked me to bring his body back.  I couldn’t leave him, not there!” Harry insisted.  Dumbledore took hold of the sides of Harry’s face gently and tried to get him to focus his gaze. 

“It’s all right, Harry, it’s all right,” he soothed.  “He’s home, you both are.”

Fudge turned around and pointed to the rest of the Ministry officials and professors.  “Keep everybody in their seats!” he ordered, loud enough to be heard over Harry’s cries.  “A boy’s just been killed!”  Then he turned back to Dumbledore.  “The body has to be moved, Dumbledore.  There’s too many people!” he hissed.  But Dumbledore paid the Minister no mind.

Hermione’s heart plummeted.  She felt like being sick.  Her knees started to shake and she felt Ron squeeze her hand to reassure her.  She looked around and saw many spectators were doing the same as she was.  She caught Mrs. Weasley staring over at them, with a mother’s concern and worry.  Hermione then turned her gaze back to Harry.

Amos Diggory pushed past Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley, the latter trying to hold him back.  “Let me through!” he demanded.  “Let me through!”  Mr. Weasley followed Amos down the stairs and continued to try and hold him back.  Amos pushed through the little gathering and finally laid eyes on his son, deceased on the ground.  “That’s my son!” he hollered as he dropped to his knees, kneeling over his son’s face, staring into his eyes, void of the spark of life.  “That’s my boy!”  He started to wail, the sound purely heartbreaking.

Hermione felt tears trickle down her cheek.  She hadn’t even noticed that she’d been crying.  She furiously wiped away at a tear.  She felt Fred’s hand go to her shoulder and he gave her a light squeeze.  They watched on as Moody wrapped his arm under Harry’s head around his neck and he used bodily force to pick Harry up from Cedric’s body.  They could see Moody murmuring into his ear and then the ex-Auror was practically dragging Harry off the pitch and out underneath the stands.   Hermione tried to follow after them but a Ministry official had blocked off the bottom of their stairs.  Dumbledore announced that Harry Potter officially won the Triwizard Tournament and would be the winner of the thousand Galleons prize money and then he was following after Moody and Harry.  McGonagall and Snape also took off after Mad-Eye and the Chosen One, hot on Albus’ heels.

Hermione turned around and reached for Fred, who hugged her tightly to his chest.  He kissed the top of her head.  “You’re safe, Hermione,” he promised.  “You’re safe, we’re all safe.”  She could feel that he trembled but he remained strong for her.  “I don’t know what happened with You-Know-Who in that maze, I don’t even know how he could have even been there, or what happened.  But I know that we’re safe now.”

Most of the Ministry officials had started scanning the maze for signs of tampering or misuse of magic.  The other professors, like Trelawney, Burbage, Flitwick and Hagrid had started ushering students towards the back of the stands and out the alternate exits away from the grass pitch and Cedric’s body.  As they all collectively travelled towards the back of the stands, they passed Cho Chang, who was being helped along by a few other Ravenclaws.  She could barely walk and was in absolute tears.  Hermione couldn’t imagine her pain since she had been Cedric’s girlfriend. 

When all the students, guests and visiting families had journeyed along the top of the pitch’s wooden scaffolding and down the emergency stairs, they gathered on the grass outside of the pitch.  Mrs. Weasley pushed through the crowd and wrapped her arms around Ron and Ginny, holding them tight.  George turned around and wrapped his arms around his mother’s back.  Fred brought Hermione over and the lot of them joined in a huddled group hug.  Mrs. Weasley was weeping.

“Never in all my years,” she murmured.  “Never did I think I would see this day.”  They all held each other tight.  “Poor Amos.  Cedric was so young.”

Hermione’s lower lip trembled.  “I’ve never heard Harry cry like that,” she whispered.  They all broke the hug and Fred’s arms wrapped around her once more.  Now that they were out of the stands and into the open grounds, Hermione could feel the slight chill in the evening air against her hooded jumper and found that she was more grateful for Fred’s body heat than she was for the actual hug.  She wiped at her eyes again.

“Freddie, it could have been anyone,” she said at last.  “Any one of the seventh years could have been killed if they had been picked – you or George could have been killed if your stupid Aging potion had worked.”  She buried her head into his chest.  “I don’t even want to think about you dying.”

Fred chuckled through tears of his own.  “Oh, Granger, I am not dying anytime soon,” he promised.  He tilted her chin upward with a crooked finger and brushed the tip of his nose against hers.  “I have a lot of mischief to manage and I want you to be around to see it.  Promise me that you’re not going anywhere either.”

Hermione managed to give him a small smile.  “Fred, being your girlfriend has been the most alive I’ve felt these last few months,” she commented.  “You’ve broken down my walls, you’ve made me a different person.  Of course I’m not going anywhere.”

Ron snorted in the background, his eyes alight with joy now even though they had remained red from crying moments earlier.  “You still hound us about homework,” he teased.  “So, you’re not that different.” 

Before Hermione could reply, Fred turned his head and flipped Ron the finger on his girlfriend’s behalf, which earned him a smack up the backside of his head from his mother.  He laughed, not even regretting it a bit.  Then he turned back to Hermione.  “Don’t listen to him,” he said.  “You’re brilliant.  And you’re perfect just the way you are.”  He pressed his lips to her forehead before he pulled back a bit,  his arms leaving her waist so that his hands could fall on her hips instead.  He turned his body slightly to face his family.  “Do you reckon that Harry’s going to be alright?” he asked.

Suddenly, they saw Dumbledore exit the bridge that led from the grounds to the castle at a frantic pace.  “Where is Cornelius?” he bellowed.  “I need the Minister, now!”

All of the gathered witches and wizards looked around for the Minister, perplexed.  Rita Skeeter, who had never been truly removed from the event by security, was back to scribbling with her Quick Quotes Quill.  Fudge stepped forward from the back of the group, looking meek.

“What is it, Albus?” he asked softly.  Dumbledore’s lip curled.  When he spoke, he did so loudly and with clarity, so that all gathered could hear him.  This was something he did not want to hide.

“As you saw, Professor Alastor Moody walked off with young Harry Potter,” he began.  His tone was clipped and short, trying to hide his rage.  “Unfortunately for Harry, that person was not the real Alastor Moody.  It seems as though Barty Crouch Junior, notorious Death Eater, escaped from Azkaban and has managed to impersonate Alastor Moody for quite some time with Polyjuice Potion.”

Gasps echoed through the ground and Hermione could make out the form of Viktor standing alongside his Headmaster, looking furious. 

“We have found the real Alastor Moody on our premises and thought that you would all like to know that he is safe.  I have instructed Professor McGonagall to owl Azkaban to come and collect their missing prisoner.  As for Barty Crouch Junior, he is being held captive upstairs at wand-point by our Potions master, Professor Snape.”

“What about Harry?” came Mr. Weasley’s voice.  He was on the other side of the crowd, holding an overwrought Amos Diggory in his arms to keep him from collapsing.  “If Junior went off with Harry, is he alright?”

“Mr. Potter suffered some cuts, lacerations and bruising,” Dumbledore answered.  “Madame Pomfrey will tend to Miss Delacour, Mr. Potter and Mr. Krum in the hospital wing now.  As for the rest of you, please come and join us in the Great Hall.  We will not be having a celebratory feast tonight.  Instead, tomorrow morning will be a service for our dear Mr. Diggory, and the afternoon will be a Leaving feast to say goodbye to our new friends, the students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.”

Madame Pomfrey flicked her wand a stretcher appeared out of thin air.  Hermione watched as she urged Amos Diggory to lay back on it.  Trauma and grief could kill a man and she wanted to make sure that no one else died tonight.

Stretches were charmed for Fleur and Viktor as well, both Champions hesitantly climbing into them.  Then, with a swish of her wand, Pomfrey led the stretchers up the hill before her, marching up the grass behind them.  She was already muttering to herself about how awful this entire Tournament had been.

Fred tapped on Hermione’s hip affectionately with his left hand.  “Maybe you and Ron should go and say something to Harry – if he’s in the hospital wing, I mean,” he suggested.

“You’ll be okay here?” Hermione asked just as Mr. Weasley pressed through the crowd to wrap his arms around his family.  Fred nodded.

“I’ve got them,” he said with a small smile.  “Go, I’ll see you in the Great Hall in a few minutes.”

Hermione watched as Mr. Weasley took hold of his youngest son’s face in his hands.  “I love you, son,” he said with emphasis.  “Please don’t forget that.  Ever.”

Ron sighed and pulled out of his father’s embrace.  However, rather than fully pulling away, he surprised Hermione by wrapped his arms around his father and giving him a tight squeeze.  “I love you too, Dad,” he murmured.  The brunette witch watched as the entire family hugged once more, Fred included, and then Ron allowed himself to break free.  He walked over to stand at Hermione’s side. 

“You alright?” he asked.  Hermione nodded.

“I am,” she replied simply.  “Are you?”

Ron nodded.  “Yeah.  Let’s go find, Harry.”

When they found Harry in the hospital wing, his arm had already been bandaged by Pomfrey.  And Harry, in true Harry fashion, lept out of bed and ran to Ron and Hermione, wrapped his arms around their necks in a fierce hug.  Hermione and Ron immediately returned his embrace, clutching their best friend with all of their might.  Harry’s breath came in large gulps and he was trying to speak through his tears.

“He’s back!” Harry cried into their shoulders.  “Voldemort – they took my blood and, and, and… Peter, I mean, Wormtail, he had to chop off his hand!  Voldemort gave him a new one…”  He spoke so fast, they could hardly understand him.  “There was a cauldron and they said kill the spare and then – ” 

Hermione stepped back from the hug to place her hands onto Harry’s cheeks.

“Harry, you’re safe,” she promised, speaking slowly so that Harry could understand her through his pain.  “We are all safe.  No matter what happens, the three of us are never leaving each other.  Ron and I are not leaving you, Harry.  We are safe at Hogwarts and you are home.”  She repeated this over and over again until Harry’s breathing had returned to a normal pace.  Only when he was calm did she and Ron help him back on to his hospital bed.  They then sat at the foot of the small piece of furniture and draped the blanket over Harry’s legs.

Ron’s expression was dull and muted.  They both didn’t really know what to say.  Perhaps there was really nothing to say.

Hermione reached for Harry’s right and squeezed.  “We love you, Harry,” she whispered at last, her words absorbed into the quiet of the vast room.  “You’re our best friend.”

Ron took hold of Harry’s other hand and squeezed as well.  “You scared us, mate,” he mumbled.  “When they said they couldn’t find you, we were panicked.”

Harry nodded once.  “Sorry,” he muttered as he looked down at their joined hands.  “I didn’t mean to worry anyone.”  Hermione almost laughed at how much he blamed himself.  She shifted to sit up closer to him on his bed.

“Harry, we are always going to worry about you,” she admitted.  “Because when you’re a friend, you worry and care that your friends are safe. And because of all the scrapes we manage to get ourselves into, I think that goes triple for all of us.”

She rolled over so that she could lie down on her left side beside Harry, careful to mind his injured arm.  Ron mirrored her on Harry’s left side.  The three stayed like that, cuddled up together on the little hospital wing bed, silent.  Nothing was said for more than twenty minutes.  All three of them had heads swimming with all sorts of thoughts and imaginings but no one dared say anything aloud, for fear of breaking the moment.  Or for fear of naming a growing evil, one they had thought was so far away.

That night, after all the visiting families had gone home, and the students had gone to bed, the guards of Azkaban prison came and took Barty Crouch Junior away, silently.  By the time the students of all three magical schools had risen the next morning, the Quidditch pitch had been returned to its normal state, the maze was gone.  No banners for the Triwizard Tournament, the Ministry or any of the Champions remained.  Instead, the entire castle bore midnight blue or black banners that bore the “H” of Hogwarts and stars in gold stitching.  The banners that marked a funeral.  The sun shone brightly, although no one felt it’s warmth.  The students finalized packing all of their belongings and then all went down to the Great Hall.  Everyone moved in unison, wordlessly.  No one had been reminded to wear all-black – but they did so.  As they entered the Great Hall, it didn’t matter what House you belonged to, or what school – professor and student alike sat shoulder to shoulder together in the vast room, on black chairs tied with ribbon.  Harry sat beside Ron and Hermione, of course, and tried to ignore the inquisitive stares.  A few rows ahead, Fred and George sat near the front, beside Ginny.  Hermione watched as her boyfriend reached for his little sister’s hand, holding tight.  A Durmstrang who sat on Ginny’s right side, offered her a tissue, which the third year took gratefully.

Fleur sniffled gracefully from behind a handkerchief and Krum, also in all black, sat rigid and tall beside his Headmaster.  When the clocktower chimed the tenth hour, the sound seemed to echo throughout the entire castle.  Dumbledore, who sat in his Headmaster’s throne at the head of the Great Hall, rested his chin in his hand.  He had been in this position well before the children and staff had arrived to the Great Hall.  When the last chime had rung and nothing more could be heard but the faint chirping of birds outside, Dumbledore sighed and decided he had better begin.

“Today, we acknowledge a really terrible loss.”  The Headmaster stood up slowly and started working towards the gathered.  “Cedric Diggory was, as you all know, exceptionally hard-working, infinitely fair-minded and what’s more, a fierce, fierce friend.  Now, I think, therefore, you have the right to know exactly how he died.  You see, Cedric Diggory was murdered – by Lord Voldemort!” 

He had stepped up to his gilded podium now and spoke with more volume.  He was angry and sad – embodying all of the emotions that everyone was feeling.  Hermione ducked her head down and blinked,  her vision blurring.  Hot tears rolled down her cheeks and into her lap.

“The Ministry of Magic does not wish me to tell you this,” Dumbledore continued.  “But not to do so, I think, would be an insult to his memory.”  From the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Harry nod, almost imperceptibly.  “Now, the pain we all feel at this dreadful loss reminds me, reminds us, of while we may come from different places and speak in different tongues, our hearts beat as one.  In light of recent events, the bonds of friendships we have made this year will be more important than ever.  Remember that and Cedric Diggory will not have died in vain.  You remember that!” he emphasized.  “And we will celebrate a boy that was kind and honest and brave and true, right to the very end.”

A few hours after Cedric Diggory’s service, the students gathered once again in the Great Hall for their Leaving feast.  Students of all schools and Houses sat amongst all tables.  Hagrid chatted to Madame Maxime and made a date for when he could visit her next.  Karkaroff was flirting with one of the Hogwarts professors, asking if he could meet her over the summer for a glass of wine.  And as the students left the Great Hall and started to leave the school, Krum had made sure to catch up with Hermione after the feast.

“I had to see you before I left,” he said, a little out of breath.  He held out a piece of paper to Hermione.  “It’s my address in Bulgaria.  Write to me, Herm-own-ninny.  Promise me,” he emphasized.  Hermione nodded. 

“Of course, I will,” she murmured softly with a little smile.  The Bulgarian leaned forward and took the hand that held his address into his own, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the back of it.

“Thank you for being my first true friend,” he said with a little grin.  He then stood up and clicked his heel, lowering her hand.  Ron was given an autograph, which he secretly pretended not to fan over, and Krum gave Harry a large bear hug.

“We are brothers,” he promised the Boy Who Lived.  “We are bonded together by what we have gone through his year.  If you need me, for anything, I will be there.”  Harry nodded and returned Viktor’s hug.

“Thanks, Viktor,” he said at last.  “I really appreciate it.”

The three Gryffindors watched Viktor hurried off and Hermione found that she couldn’t stop staring at Viktor’s address.  She was breathless.  The memories from the last year seemed to pass like a montage through her mind.

Staying at the Burrow with the Weasleys and Harry.

Meeting Cedric and his father before the Quidditch World Cup.

The good, and the bad, that happened at the Quidditch World Cup.

Coming to school, meeting the Durmstrangs.  Meeting the Beauxbatons.

Having the urge to go and see Hagrid that cold and snowy November night. 

The first time Fred had saved her, catching her in the snow.

The many firsts they had had.  The secrete dates, the heartbreak.  The recoupling.

Skeeter’s interference.

Being a part of the Second Task…

It had all gone by so quickly and yet she could clearly see each memory in her mind.

There was one thing that was for certain.  Any student present in those stands yesterday evening had been witness to a death.  Any student in those stands had heard Harry’s broken cries.  It was more than a little scary that Voldemort’s reach already extended so far and had some so close to the castle.  Even the fact that one of his Death Eaters had successfully managed to infiltrate the castle and impersonate their professor, an ex-Auror, was chilling.  It seemed impossible for anyone to pretend that Hogwarts was truly this safe and happy place anymore, completely untouched by the outside evils of the world.  The light that the castle and its teachings once represented now held a bit of a dark shadow, a glimpse at what was possibly to come.  What was more, Dumbledore had said that friendships made with other schools this year were crucial.  The way the Headmaster had worded it made Hermione think that sometime in the near future, they would need to call on those friendships for help.  Perhaps even to fight. 

She looked down at her feet, overwhelmed at the idea of having lost their innocence.  Nothing would be the same after this year.  Her voice shook as she spoke her concern aloud to Harry and Ron.

“Everything’s going to change now, isn’t it?” she asked.  Ron’s brows furrowed at her question.  Perhaps he hadn’t thought about their reality that deeply.  However, Harry surprised Hermione by crossing over to her and lightly holding her right shoulder, giving her a little pat.  Her brown eyes met his green and she found comfort in his gaze. She tried to stop her thoughts from swimming out of control.  Harry gave her another little pat.

Harry decided to answer her simply.  “Yes,” answered simply.  “Everything’s changed now.  I don’t think we can pretend any different.”

“Bloody hell,” Ron murmured from behind Harry.  It appeared that the gravity of what they were saying had just donned on him.  “I mean, You-Know-Who’s really back, then.” 

Hermione looked past Harry’s shoulder to meet Ron’s gaze and nodded.  “I believe in Harry with everything I have,” she said without hesitation.  “There’s no doubt in my mind.”  Ron looked from Hermione to Harry, their faces and minds resolved, and it seemed that that helped him make up his own.  The redheaded wizard smiled softly. 

“We’re with you, mate,” he promised.  “No matter what happens.  We’re not just friends, we’re family.”

The three Gryffindors shared a group hug and then started to walk along down the stone corridor, heading towards one of the balconies so that they could watch the other schools leave.  The silence was comfortable but full of things that were better of left unsaid.  Hermione cleared her throat and decided to break the gravity of the moment.

“Promise me you’ll write this summer!  Both of you,” Hermione demanded.  “I mean, I know we’ll only be apart for a few weeks but you must or I’ll go mad.”

Ron, who walked on Hermione’s left, smirked.  “I won’t.  You know I won’t,” he said with a little chuckle.  Hermione rolled her eyes and turned her attention over to Harry.  He walked on her right side.  She took the opportunity to lightly grab his left arm and squeezed. 

“Harry will, won’t you?” she asked of the Chosen One. 

The Potter boy was sarcastic in reply.  “Oh yeah, every week,” he teased in response.  Hermione fought the urge to groan.  They reached the exposed alcove and stood shoulder-to-shoulder as they watched the Beauxbatons carriage take to the sky.  The winged horses that pulled the carriage whinnied as they soared through the air and disappeared amongst the clouds. Then, the large wooden vessel of the Durmstrang Institute opened its sails and took to the waters of the Black Lake, sinking down below its shoreline when they reached the middle of the loch.  The trio turned away when both were out of site and started to head back up to Gryffindor Tower to collect their luggage.  As they went, Hermione knew that she couldn’t be sure what events were in store for she, Harry and Ron in the future.  But what she could be sure of was that whatever was coming, no matter how dark, no matter how bleak, they would be facing it head on together.  In vulnerability, there was strength.  In friendship, there was power.

And if one challenged oneself to break down their walls and push their perceptions aside, they could come out on the other side forever changed.  Hermione knew that she had been forever changed by the events of this year. 

No longer a girl, not yet a woman, but somewhere in between; a person who was strong, starting to know her worth and what she would fight for.  A person she was growing to be proud of.