Chapter Three
"This is horrific! Complete and utter rubbish," Hermione said through gritted teeth as she sat beside Harry for breakfast in the Great Hall. "Honestly, is this woman insane?"
Just then, Ron slipped into position opposite them. "What are you going on about?"
Hermione growled. She actually growled, she was so angry.
Harry just managed to keep the milk from his cereal in his mouth. He'd never heard a sound like that from her. That part in the back of his brain allowed him to think that he quite liked it.
"Rita Skeeter," Harry told Ron. "She's dug her teeth into Hermione now," he said. "I bet she's disappointed I didn't get killed."
Hermione turned to him, looking rather incredulous. "Don't say that! I would much rather read about my twisted love life than read your obituary, thank you very much."
That seemed to get Ron's attention. "Your love life, you say?" he asked, smirking, as he reached across and lifted The Daily Prophet out of her hands.
Harry was more surprised that she actually let him take it. She immediately returned to nursing her toast, clearly preoccupied by something.
Ron started to read, and then he started to laugh. "She is insane! You and Harry? A couple? Hah."
Both Harry and Hermione looked at him, deers caught in the headlights.
"Why do you find that so funny?" Hermione asked, more out of curiosity than anything. She was genuinely interested to know why Ron found the idea so preposterous.
Harry desperately wished that she hadn't asked, but he found he was quite interested to hear what his friend had to say on the matter as well.
"Oh come on," Ron said, looking between his two best friends. "Seriously? You're kidding, right?"
"I'm curious," Hermione said, leaning forward with her elbows on the table and resting her chin on the inside of her palms.
When Harry looked at her, he had to force himself not to squirm. Her position squeezed certain assets that only that part in the back of his brain was allowed to think about. There was a weird tingling in his stomach though.
Ron swallowed heavily, even making the gulping sound. "Well, I don't know. Wouldn't it just be weird?" He looked at Hermione. "I mean, I reckon I'd much prefer you and Krum really."
"Really?" Hermione asked, holding her position, clearly oblivious to Harry's predisposition.
"Is it true, by the way?" he asked. "I mean, Rita doesn't just come up with this kind of stuff out of thin air, does she?"
Harry made a point of looking at her. Thankfully, she had sat up, relieving some of the strange sensation in the pit of his stomach.
Hermione felt her cheeks start to burn. "We've spoken," she admitted.
That was news to Harry. He didn't even know where she found the time, what with all the time she spent with him, and Ron. Harry didn't like it. He really didn't like it. It twisted his insides to think of her even talking to a boy - who was he kidding; Krum was a man - that wasn't him.
"So you fancy him?" Ron asked, suddenly very interested.
Hermione's blush only deepened. "Definitely not as much as you fancy him, Ronald."
Ron looked a little gobsmacked, but he eventually laughed.
Harry didn't. His head was filling with all sorts of thoughts of Hermione going out with Krum; Hermione falling in love with Krum; Hermione getting married to Krum; Hermione having babies with Krum. Little Krummies. Krum Krum Krum!
"Oi, mate," Ron sounded, getting Harry's attention. "All right?"
Harry just couldn't make sense of his thoughts. Why was he so concerned with whom Hermione spoke to? Why should he care?
"Harry," Hermione said, almost whispering. She put a hand on his arm, fingers cool through the fabric of his school shirt. "You're pale. And you're shaking. What's got you panicked?"
Trust her to remember that this was how he acted when he was panicking. Boy did he wish he was actually coming down with a cold or something. "Nothing," he said eventually, moving his arm, and rising to his feet. "Nothing." And then he left the Great Hall, his cereal unfinished, with the part in the back of his brain growing bigger and bigger by the second.
Harry didn't actively try to avoid Hermione. He would have but he honestly didn't think he could pull it off. He needed to be in her presence. It was just a thing he needed, even with all of his twisted thoughts swimming around in his head. If he could just talk to her, maybe she could find a way to help him make sense of everything. But that would require him to tell her that that part in the back of his brain actually existed, and he wasn't anywhere ready for that conversation.
"Did you hear?" Ron asked, dropping down opposite Harry as they settled in for Study Hall in the Great Hall.
"Did I hear what?"
"About the Yule Ball, mate. Supposed to be some kind of dance. That's why they had us bring all those dress robes," he explained. "Can you believe it?"
Harry could. In fact, nothing at Hogwarts could surprise him anymore. Pretty much everything that could have happened to him had already happened. Why waste time dwelling on it?
Ron read his face. "You knew, didn't you?"
He sighed. "Professor McGonagall may have mentioned it to me after class today," he admitted. "I was kind of hoping she was having me on. Apparently she wasn't."
Ron looked horrified. "Do we, like, need dates or something?"
Harry nodded bleakly. "And, as a Champion, I have to open the dance floor with all the other Champions. It's tradition."
Ron looked even more horrified. "Bet you wish you hadn't put your name in the Goblet now, huh?"
Harry just glared at him.
Ron put his hands up in mock surrender. "Too soon?" He laughed. "Well, who are you thinking of taking?"
Hermione! "Umm," he sounded. "I'm not sure."
"Well, you've got the whole Castle to pick from," Ron muttered. "I'll probably just end up going with Hermione."
What Harry would give. "Speaking of Hermione, where is she?"
Ron shrugged. "Probably somewhere snogging Krum."
Harry's fists automatically clenched. He had to drop them under the table so as not to alarm Ron. What was wrong with him? He stood up quite suddenly. "You know what happens when we leave Hermione alone," he found himself saying.
Ron looked at him. "You do know that Krum isn't a mountain troll, right?"
May as well be.
Harry left his things on the table and went in search of his best friend. It didn't take him all that long to find her. She was, thankfully, alone as she walked down a corridor, clutching a few books to her chest. Harry's face lit up at the sight of her.
"There you are," she said when she too spotted him. "I was just coming to find you."
"Here I am."
"Cedric wanted me to pass along a message," she said. Then she dropped her voice to a whisper as she approached him. "About the Golden Egg."
Harry didn't even care about the Golden Egg in that moment. Okay, maybe he did. But he just wanted to look at her.
Hermione felt herself shiver under the heat of the new way he looked at her now. It was like he could see her soul; it was so disarming. "But we can talk about that later. Tell me, why are you up and about?"
He was still grinning. "I was coming to find you," he let her know.
"Here I am."
That kept him grinning. "Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you," he said, suddenly feeling very nervous.
"Ask me as we walk. I suspect we're already late for Study Hall by now."
Harry wasn't sure he would be able to get the question out while he walked. Unlike Hermione, he didn't have that kind of skill at multi-tasking.
Before he could even clamp down his thoughts, Hermione was speaking again. "Why do you think Professor McGonagall wants to meet with all the Gryffindors this evening?" she asked curiously. "What do you think it's about?"
Before Harry could open his mouth, another, much louder voice, bellowed down the corridor.
"Potter! Granger! Are you not supposed to be in Study Hall right now?"
Without sticking around to suffer any more of Snape's wrath, Harry and Hermione scurried off to the Great Hall; their conversation temporarily forgotten. Well rather, set aside. Harry doubted he could forget.
Ron slouched down in his chair beside Harry. This was definitely the last place he wanted to be.
Across the ballroom, all the Gryffindor girls were sitting facing all the boys, clearly also waiting for their Head of House to explain to them just what it was they were all doing there.
While everyone was looking at either Professor McGonagall or Filch and his large gramophone, Harry was looking at Hermione. And she was looking at him. It quickly became apparent that they liked to look each other. Sometimes he would smile, and then she would smile. Or she would smile, and then he would smile. His cheeks would always burn, but he didn't care. He was looking at her, and wasn't she a sight?
Because his eyes were locked on Hermione, Harry missed most of what Professor McGonagall said. Although, it didn't take a genius to figure out why she had gathered the entire house.
The sound of collective grumbling brought him out of his daze and he sat up straight, much like Hermione. He was only vaguely aware of Ron muttering something to him, and then Professor McGonagall was in front of them, silencing his redheaded best friend.
"Mr Weasley," she said, putting her hand out. "Will you join me please?" It wasn't really a request.
Ron swallowed. "Umm."
"Up up," she instructed.
Ron reluctantly rose to his feet, knowing there was nothing he could really say to get out of it. He felt Harry give him a shove but he didn't turn as their Head of House led him into the centre of the room, where everyone could see.
Harry couldn't even enjoy his friend's discomfort. He was looking at Hermione. He felt someone tap on his shoulder. It was Fred. He had to pry his eyes away.
"Mate, we're never letting him forget this," Fred whispered, chuckling. "Ever."
Harry could see Ron with a tentative hand at their Professor's waist, and he had to grin. Someone even let out a cat whistle, which made some of the girls giggle.
"Everybody come together," Professor McGonagall said, and the girls were all up on their feet. "Boys, you too!"
Most of the boys shook their heads, none of them wanting to be the first to stand up. Harry looked at Hermione, who was looking at him, almost daring him to be the first. And he was going to do it; he really was. Only, Neville beat him to it. All the boys watched as Neville - yes, Neville Longbottom - rose from his seat and walked towards one of the girls.
From his position, Harry couldn't see who Neville was asking to dance, because Ron and their Professor were blocking his view. He just hoped it wasn't Hermione.
It wasn't.
After the relief, Harry practically jumped to his feet. Once he was up, a lot of other boys started to stand up as well. Trust Harry to lead the revolt. He headed straight towards Hermione, who was standing next to Angeline Johnson. He came to a stop right in front of the bushy-haired witch and gave her a toothy grin. Then, clearing his throat and bending ever so slightly, he put out his hand. "My lady," he said strongly, even sultrily. "Will you do me the honour of dancing with me, please?"
Hermione positively blushed a deep scarlet, but she accepted his hand any way.
He pulled her towards him as he stepped back. Suddenly, the entire ballroom fell away. He was looking at her and that was all that mattered.
"Try not to step on my toes," Hermione said, as they moved into position.
"I can't make any promises," he said. His smile just wouldn't disappear. "I've never actually danced before."
"Ever?"
"Never had any reason to. Until right now."
While they moved, Harry kept having to look down to watch where his feet landed. At some point, Hermione lifted his chin with her finger, so he would look at her. "Try not to think about it," she said. "Look at me. Trust me."
Harry took a deep breath and did as he was told. He definitely didn't need to be told twice to look at her. He met her gaze and found himself getting lost in the chocolate brown. Gosh, were there eyes this pretty anywhere else? It was like looking into a mud pit; it was drawing him in, drowning him.
"Very nice, Mr Potter, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall commented. "Everyone, watch them."
That made Harry miss a step. He hated it when people looked at him.
"Look at me," Hermione repeated. "Only me."
Harry felt his entire body relax. He was okay. He had Hermione. At some point during their dance, Harry leaned forward and whispered a question into her ear.
After a moment, she whispered her answer back, and even took a moment to breathe in the vanilla and wood smell that surrounded him.
And, of course, at her answer, he missed yet another step.
"Bloody hell. Bloody hell. Bloody hell."
Harry had to stifle a laugh as he regarded his redheaded best friend. They were again sitting in the Great Hall for Study Hall, this time with Professor Snape. The three of them - Harry, Ron and Hermione - were huddled on one side of the table. It was safer that way.
"Still no date?" Harry asked.
"It's embarrassing," Ron said, sounding dejected. "Honestly. At this rate, we'll be the only ones in our year without a date."
Harry just managed to duck as Snape swiped them with a rolled up piece of parchment. Harry had to hold back a grin. He was feeling too content to let the sour Potions Professor get him down.
"Well, maybe us and Neville," Ron commented.
"Actually," Hermione broke into their hushed conversation. "Neville already has a date."
Ron let out a long sigh. "Bloody hell! Well, now I'm really depressed. I mean, all the good ones are going to be gone. Who else am I supposed to take?"
"You better get a move on then," Harry said, as he dipped his quill in ink to add another sentence to his Potions Essay. He wasn't even sure that what he was writing was making any sense. He looked across Ron to Hermione, who had just managed to return to her own essay. He couldn't mistake the upturning of the edges of her perfect mouth.
Ron muttered something to himself. Then he turned towards the girl sitting to his right. "Say, Hermione," he said, trying to sound endearing. "You're a girl."
Hermione slowly lifted her head, determined to give Ron the benefit of the doubt. She didn't dare look at Harry. "Keen observation skills there, Ronald."
Harry tugged on Ron's arm to warn him of Snape's arrival, but the Professor had already knocked them both on the back of the head with his roll of parchment - that Harry swore had actually doubled in size.
Once Snape was out of earshot, Ron again turned to Hermione. "So...?"
"So, what?"
"Do you, you know, wanna...?" he asked, shrugging. "I mean, it's one thing for a bloke to show up alone, but a girl... that's just sad."
Harry turned away from the confrontation that was surely to occur. He even closed his eyes, but he could hear the irritation and complete animosity in Hermione's voice.
"Well, for your information, Ronald, I won't be going alone because, believe it or not, someone's already asked me." She closed her book and used it to smack him hard on the arm - twice. Then she rose to her feet and walked to hand the book to Snape.
When she returned, Ron still hadn't recovered. "And I said yes!" she practically spat in his face, and then she headed right out of the Hall, leaving both boys in silence.
Ron turned to Harry. "What's up with her?"
Harry just shrugged, glancing up to make sure Snape wasn't anywhere close enough to hear them. "Don't ask me."