A/N: There are 2.5 centimetres in an inch. I was editing when I noticed I'd put a measurement in and even though it's pretty trivial, I thought you guys might like to know how much it is in case you don't know the metric system.

The first official day of school at Hogwarts dawned somewhat reluctantly. Even though there was still plenty of daylight, the ashen clouds ensured that no one was willing to doff their blankets before breakfast started.

However, one fourth-year Gryffindor girl refused to let the clouds affect her. She had things to do. Hermione rose at six-thirty sharp, as she always did on Hogwarts weekdays. Being careful not to wake her roommates – particularly Parvati, who did not take kindly to being woken up before she had to – she got dressed, took out the books she needed for the day then sat down on her bed and took out a quill and notebook.

This time was usually reserved for the last edit of any homework due that day, but she'd already checked her summer homework yesterday. It wouldn't hurt to check it again but strictly speaking it wasn't necessary and she had much more pressing issues at hand.

Her quill scratched over the paper quickly. The notebook now bore the title 'House Elves'. With a singularly determined look on her face, Hermione wrote down everything she knew about house elves, which, to her dismay, was very little. Feeling somewhat deflated, she resolved to check Hogwarts: A History and a few other books in the library which might have something. Once she knew more about house elves and how they were affiliated with the castle, she could set to work trying to help the enslaved elves within Hogwarts. She chewed the end of her quill in a mixture of anxiety and thoughtfulness: the problem was so much bigger than Hogwarts and she had no doubt that the elves here, even though they were forced to work for no pay and with no leave, had better conditions than most elves. She thought briefly of Dobby's cruel mistreatment at the Malfoy's hands and Winky begging her master not to give her clothes. To dismiss such a loyal, well-meaning creature over such an insignificant disobedience was appalling. Winky had been terrified and anyone could see that she was beyond distraught when she was dismissed. It was disgusting the way people like Mr Crouch exploited the poor animals, taking their loyalty for granted and then casting them aside when they did anything mildly wrong. Even worse was the fact that other people simply stood by and did nothing to help the elves, even laughing at her for her care on the elves behalf.

Making a mental note to stop by the library after dinner, Hermione rummaged through her trunk to pull out her copy of Hogwarts: a History. She settled down to read as much as she could before breakfast.

Hermione stretched impatiently, straining to grab the book just out of her reach. If she was another two centimetres taller, it would be fine. As it was, she was tall enough to brush the bottom of the spine but not able to stretch far enough to get a grip on it – only push it back farther.

She glared at it murderously. Giving up on getting it down manually, she set her schoolbag down and began searching it for her wand. Foolishly, she'd shoved it into her bag after her last lesson rather than her pocket and it was now lost amongst various books, quills and pieces of parchment. When her search yielded no results she started slamming texts haphazardly onto the table, furiously emptying her bag in her quest for the elusive wand. When her bag was half-empty and she still hadn't found the thing, she started throwing things. A crumpled piece of parchment and a broken quill were thrown unceremoniously onto the other side of the table. She grabbed an empty inkwell and threw it to her side. Her throw had a surprising amount of force behind it. It flew through the air, travelling on a virtually straight trajectory before starting to sink towards the ground. It banged loudly against the stone floor and Hermione jumped, the search for her wand temporarily forgotten as she looked around guiltily to see if anyone had been looking. She breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted no one looking at her and walked over to the unlucky inkwell.

'I don't mean to make assumptions about what you were doing, but I'm fairly certain it didn't strictly require turning inkwells into a formidable weapon.'
Hermione whipped around as her cheeks flared. Cedric was standing at the end of an aisle, previously hidden by the shadow the immense shelf cast. He walked past her, scooped the object up off the ground and examined it.

'That was some throw. You've cracked it.' He announced. 'If you liked flying, I think you'd be a good chaser.' he pulled his wand out of his pocket and tapped the inkwell. The crack sealed instantly and he dropped it into her hand. 'In all seriousness, what's wrong?'

'What's wrong,' she said irritably, 'is that house-elves are given no respect by the wizarding community and are treated like slaves. But I think what you're referring to would be the fact that I can't find my wand to get the book I want.'

'Ahh.' said Cedric, nodding to pretend he understood. Her foul mood sharpened slightly and her scowl became a little more prominent. He opened his mouth to say something but clearly thought better of it as he gave her a sidelong glance and snapped his jaw shut.
'Would you like me to get it for you?' he said instead.

Hermione nodded shortly and named the book and pointed to it. Cedric summoned it with a flick of his wand as Hermione set the inkwell down on the table perhaps a little too forcefully and, much to her fury, saw her wand half-lying under her Charms book. She snatched it up and put it in her pocket straight away. She silently swore she was never putting it in her bag again and took a few even breaths to help calm herself. She turned to Cedric who proffered the book she'd been trying to grab and set it on the table when she didn't take it immediately.

'Magical Creatures and the Ministry: a complete guide? Is this to do with what you mentioned about the house elves?' He ventured. His gaze slid over some other books in her pile: Why House-elves need us, Mutinies of Magical Creatures and Etiquette concerning house-elves.

'Yes, well, I've been doing some research.' she said testily. 'The way house-elves have been treated in the past is an abomination. I'm going to start a group, Society of the Protection of Elvish Welfare, or S.P.E.W.. We'll focus on improving the rights of house-elves. Why no one has done anything about their appallingly large lack of rights before, I have no idea.' she sniffed, while quietly cursing herself for using such formal language. She may be the only one to care for the house-elves, but she wasn't pompous or self-righteous.

Cedric frowned. 'Hermione…,' he began cautiously, 'I don't know how much you know about house-elves, but believe me when I say that they're happy with what they have. I know they could have a few more rights, but they enjoy working. It is, quite literally, their instinct.'
'Instinct! No, they just don't know any better! They would if they'd ever been paid or given holidays!' said Hermione, her voice rising as her anger returned. She crossed her arms and raised her chin defiantly.

'No, really,' said Cedric earnestly. 'You've only got books on our interaction with house-elves. You need something purely about the creatures themselves to get a real understanding of their nature.'

Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously but felt a twinge of doubt concerning her beliefs. She tried vainly to squash the feeling but when it refused to go away, she conceded that she would deign to borrow a book on house-elves and house-elves alone. Although, she reminded herself, it would be written by witches or wizards, who were likely to conceal the truth in case it was decided that house-elf slavery was cruel.

'Also, the acronym S.P.E.W. might need some reconsideration.'

'Why? What's wrong with it?' Hermione demanded.

Cedric raised an eyebrow, making Hermione instantly jealous. She'd always wanted to be able to do that. It did no favours for her temper and she glowered at him.

'Spew. People will call it spew.' said Cedric.

Hermione, who had been on the verge of gathering her books and walking out in a dignified and disdainful silence, froze as she realised the ridicule she had nearly unknowingly brought upon her society.

'I would suggest the Society of the Protection of Elfish Rights instead. S.P.E.R. would probably be a safer choice.'

Hermione realised he was holding back a smile. She looked up at him sullenly. 'Fine. Thank you.' she said.

She sat herself down at the table and opened one of her books in a clear dismissal but much to her annoyance, Cedric sat down across from her. He opened his own book and took out some parchment which made it clear he was doing homework, but considering her current mood, Hermione wished he would go to another table. To her frustration, he stayed where he was. Hermione refused to be the one to move.
After about an hour Cedric rolled up his parchment and began packing to leave. His movements caught Hermione's attention, who looked up in mild surprise. Her anger towards him had abated by now and she was almost disappointed he was leaving. However, Cedric simply leant back in his chair in a more relaxed pose.

'Are you entering the Triwizard Tournament?' Hermione asked. In all honesty, she'd been vastly curious as to what Cedric would do since the Feast the night before when the tournament had been announced.

Cedric nodded slowly. 'Yes. I think I will.'

Hermione pursed her lips. 'I don't think this tournament is a good idea. I know they've added new safety measures, but the mention of a death toll isn't exactly comforting. I think that they shouldn't be trying to reinstate something so dangerous and pose it as friendly competition. It's hardly going to be friendly. Personally, I don't think it's safe to enter.'

Cedric eyed her oddly. 'Yes, but only seventeen year olds are allowed to enter. Most of the candidates will be year sevens and only a few year sixes, so it's very advanced magic that they're capable of doing. Besides, with such a bad history, why would they start the tournament again if they weren't completely sure it wouldn't be safe?'

'I suppose,' Said Hermione, though she made it clear through her tone that she didn't believe this at all. She took the box of badges next to her and started charming them various different colours.

'Oh, come on.' said Cedric lightly. 'It's a good thing. Isn't the aim of the thing to get us to make foreign friends? Although,' he added as an afterthought,

'Perhaps a competition isn't the best way to get us to become friends with each other.'

'I'd imagine it would actually work very well.' said Hermione. 'There's a long period between tasks and the tournament goes most of the school year, so there's a lot of time when there wouldn't be much of competitive atmosphere. Then there's the Yule Ball of course.' She held back a soft curse when she didn't pay enough attention to her aim and accidentally turned her fingernail pink. She changed her nail back and hit the badge with the spell instead.

'The Yule Ball?'

'Yes, I was reading about the tournament a bit at lunchtime. It's held on Yuletide – that's Christmas – and it's…well…it's a ball, on Yuletide. It used to be wildly popular. All the officials and teachers would attend as well as many of the students. It used to be all waltzes and such, but I imagine we'll have a few modern songs. Although they'll probably keep the tradition of champions and their partners dancing first, which will most likely be to a waltz.'

'You really think they'll keep it? It sounds a bit…old-fashioned.'

'Oh, yes,' Hermione nodded. 'Like I said, it was very popular, as everyone got to dance with and talk to people from the other schools. Did I say they'll probably have modern songs? I think I did.' She turned the badge she was holding a vivid green, stared at it thoughtfully for a moment, and then changed it to a dusky purple. 'I don't think they'll tell us about the ball for a while, though.'

'Mm, probably. They'd want Durmstrang and Beauxbatons here first and then they'll want to wait for the competition to die down a bit.' He picked up a golden-brown badge and started fidgeting with it.

Hermione peered into her box. She'd almost finished colouring the badges and after that she'd have to emboss them with S.P.E.R.. That would take longer than performing the colour-changing charm. 'Do you know when the other schools are coming? Dumbledore didn't say last night, but I thought you might know since you're head boy.' said Hermione, changing the last few badges to different shades of blue.

'No, but Dumbledore'll let everyone know soon. It can't be long before they're due – like you said, the tournament takes a long time, so it's going to have to be pretty soon in order for them to get the whole thing done in a school year.' He had pulled out his wand and was idly drawing colours on the badge. It was now a myriad of reds and yellows with a pearlescent stripe running jaggedly across the middle. As she watched, he traced an onyx border onto it.

She let him continue playing with the badge and started transfiguring the letters S.P.E.R. onto the pile in front of her. 'So – ' she broke off, slightly unwilling to breach the subject. In the end her curiosity won over. 'So why do you want to enter?' She inquired brazenly. She held her breath, hoping she hadn't been rude.

Cedric rolled the badge between his fingers, his expression brooding. He poked the pin with his finger and it split to form two little legs. He set it down on the table and watched it as it teetered for a moment before toppling, its spindly limbs unable to support the rest of the heavy badge. He waved his wand over it and the legs melded together. When he turned it over and put it back in the pile, it was the golden-brown colour she'd originally charmed it to. He picked up his bag and swept the last of his belongings into it. 'Sorry, but I'm afraid I have to get going.' He said distantly. 'I think Werman's scheduled to patrol tonight and he never goes unless someone checks that he does.' He rose from his chair and turned to leave.

Hermione felt guilt sweep through her as she realised she should have left the question. It could be, after all, potentially very personal. 'Wait! I'm sorry. I didn't mean…I didn't mean to…I don't know. I just didn't mean to ask something you weren't prepared to answer. I understand – it's not as if we've known each other very long.'

Cedric's posture relaxed fractionally and Hermione quietly exhaled in relief. Then she frowned at herself. She'd come to consider Cedric a friend very quickly if she was this worried about his reaction to her apology already. She pushed her thoughts aside as Cedric addressed her again, in a considerably more amiable tone. 'That's okay. But I really do have to go. I'm not lying about Werman, he's shocking.'

Hermione gave a short laugh. 'You'd better go make sure he stays in line then. Good luck – it sounds as if you'll need it.'

He smiled at her and nodded. 'You're right, I probably will. Thanks. See you around.'

With that, he strode quickly out of the library. Despite his acceptance of her apology, Hermione wasn't quite sure if she was actually forgiven or if he was just saying it. If it was Harry and Ron, she knew they'd mean it, but Cedric seemed infinitely more complex and not quite as…blunt? Forward? Sighing, Hermione refocused on the badges in front of her and began working on them again. Sitting and analysing her conversation with Cedric wasn't going to help any house-elves.

It was with much joy on Friday of next week that the fourth year potions class packed up half an hour early to see the arrival of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Hermione, while vaguely disappointed they hadn't had time to finish their potions, was very glad that Professor Snape hadn't been able to carry out his threat of poisoning one of them. Harry and Ron in particular seemed extraordinarily happy.

'Did you see his face when we left?' said Harry, beaming.

'Yeah, but he always looks like that…it's like his face is stuck.' Ron was grinning too.

'The wind probably changed at the wrong moment and now he's going to look like that forever.' said Hermione with a smile. Harry laughed.

Ron looked at them confusedly. 'What? What's the wind got to do with anything?'

'It's just something muggles tell their children to stop them pulling faces. They say if the wind changes, you'll look like that for the rest of your life.' Hermione told him.

'Nah, I reckon Snape's just a miserable bat. It comes to him naturally.' replied Harry. Harry and Ron laughed and then all three of them sprinted towards a staircase to get to it before it finished moving away.

Hurriedly depositing their bags in their rooms and donning their cloaks, they rushed out towards the Entrance Hall. Hermione couldn't stop a smile sliding across her face. In addition to the excitement of the arrivals of the other schools, for some reason, the novelty of running in a cloak never wore off. It billowed out behind her as she hurtled down the stairs, racing Harry and Ron; then flared dramatically as she triumphantly jumped the last three steps, behind Ron but ahead of Harry. She smiled at Harry mischievously and pivoted sharply to face him, enjoying the way her cloak swirled around her.

Ron punched the air jubilantly. 'Ha! I win!' He gloated teasingly, grinning broadly.

'What? We were racing?' said Harry, frowning.

Ron smirked and Hermione giggled and tugged on their sleeves. 'Come on, Professor McGonagall won't be happy with us if we're late.' she told them.

'I don't think it's possible for us to be late, with all that running we just did,' said Harry. He grimaced and clutched his chest as if he had a stitch. 'We'll probably be the first ones there.'

They were still panting slightly as they rounded the corner to the entrance hall to find Professor McGonagall already instructing Gryffindors on where to stand: they were some of the last to arrive, sharply contradicting Harry's predictions. Hermione shivered and wrapped her cloak more tightly around her as they crossed the moonlit grounds. They came to a halt on the sloping lawns with an excellent view of a good portion of the grounds. Harry, Ron and Hermione – as fourth years – stood in the fourth row from the front and Hermione ended up on the end of the row.

Hermione jumped as she heard someone greet her from her other side, the one where no one was standing. She turned around to see Cedric stationed to the side and a little behind her.

'What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with the seventh years?' She said waspishly, miffed that he'd managed to sneak up on her for the second time in as many weeks. She secretly prided herself on her excellent hearing, so being snuck up on – while she wasn't reading, at any rate – wasn't something she was used to.

He seemed oblivious to her unfriendly tone. 'They're getting prefects to supervise different areas. Sprout made it clear to the Hufflepuffs that she doesn't want anyone tarnishing our reputation in front of the other schools, particularly Beauxbatons. The teachers haven't noticed it, but they've made it pretty clear to me and the head girl that they're very competitive, especially with Beauxbatons.'

'Yes, well, Beauxbatons is somewhere in the South of France, so I'd imagine they would be rather prickly towards them. Wizarding ties with South France have been negligible since the hundred year war in a skirmish near Nice. The French used a chimera, although they only did it in retaliation to the English using manticores... it was an absolute massacre and now neither side will accept any responsibility.'

'Sounds very much like what we would do. Hold a grudge for this many years and refuse to apologize.'

'In wizarding history, the two nations have rarely cooperated. You can't expect that to be forgotten overnight.' said Hermione.

They both turned in alarm as a voice yelled out 'There!' The shout came from near the back and Hermione spied an arm pointing over the trees and slid her gaze across the forest eyes widened as she saw a huge black shape silhouetted against the moon, flying rapidly towards Hogwarts.

'What is it?' Hermione asked Harry. He shook his head mutely. She peered at the growing shape, trying to discern what it was.

The silhouette grew constantly nearer, and details slowly made themselves visible. At first it became apparent that the shape – a carriage – was being pulled by giant winged creatures; they looked something like Pegasus'. Hermione sub-consciously took a small step back at the sight of them. Horses had always seemed unnatural to her: surreal creatures, always looming over her. They were just so loud and generally intimidating. Large horses couldn't possibly be better than normal ones.

The horses landed on the lawn and the carriage bumped as it hit the ground, losing speed quickly. It was enormous, and a rather unappealing powder-blue colour – or so Hermione thought. She glimpsed an emblem on the door before it flew open, and a boy in powder-blue silk robes jumped out and unfolded a set of stairs before standing promptly to attention, earning a few giggles from the Hogwarts students.

Then, the largest woman Hermione had ever seen in her life exited the carriage. She was easily comparable to Hagrid, with feet the size of some of the larger books in the library and a height that required her to stoop considerably to avoid knocking her head in the doorway. The students filing out behind her all looked to be of age, but the tallest of them were only half her height.

Dumbledore strode forwards to greet her, but Hermione missed what he was saying as Cedric started talking to her again.

'They don't seem to like the look of Hogwarts.'

Hermione glanced at the Beauxbatons students, who were all looking up at the imposing castle with apprehensive looks on their faces. 'It is a big castle. They can be rather intimidating, you know.'

They paused for a moment. The giant woman was, for some absurd reason, talking about single-malt whiskey.

'They look like they're freezing. Do you suppose they brought cloaks? It doesn't look as if it would be a part of their uniform – silk uniform! Not very practical.' She commented.

'They've probably got cloaks, but nothing anywhere near good enough for winter in Scotland. Wow, they're really well behaved, this Beauxbatons lot…the teachers won't be very happy about that.'

The students were extraordinarily well-behaved. Hermione watched incredulously as the students walked silently in single file towards the castle, headed by the enormous woman. Not one person dropped back to talk to their friend or even whispered a word. If the students at Hogwarts behaved that well, Hermione would suspect someone had used an unforgiveable curse on the entire student population.

'How do you think Durmstrang will get here? Not a carriage, I bet.' said Cedric.

'I'm not sure…I think you're right though, they probably won't come in a carriage. In the past, schools have always gone out of their way to find different methods of transportation to get to the schools, always trying to outdo each other. It's really quite ridiculous; it's not as if it's part of the tournament.'

Cedric smirked. 'No, but it sounds exactly like what would happen. Try and prove that you're better because you have a more impressive way of getting to there than the other school does. I can see why this tournament is so prestigious.'

Hermione laughed. 'The prestige is why they do that, though. I don't know how to explain it. I think-'

'The lake! Look at the lake!' Someone, a Gryffindor – Lee Jordan – was yelling.

The lake was no longer perfectly still. Part of it had become a seething, boiling mass of water, bubbling loudly, and the students looked on with wide eyes as a long pole rose gently from the water. It rose higher and two other, smaller poles began to appear above the surface as well. It was only once she saw the poles running perpendicular to the ones she had first seen that she realised what it was.

'It's a mast!' Harry told them excitedly.

Indeed it was. It was clear that the elongated pole was the mast and now the massive decks were coming into view, rising eerily slowly and calmly from the frothing lake. The students stood silently and wide eyed as the ship gradually came to rest on the surface and glided silently towards the bank. The ghostly ship anchored; then they heard the thud of a plank being thrown onto the bank.

The students filing off the ship were large and bulkily built. Hermione grimaced. 'Look at their size!' she said to Cedric in astonishment. He nodded fervently.
As they came closer, Cedric bent down and whispered to her, 'I think it might be furs. At least they're prepared for winter in Hogwarts.'

Hermione squinted. Yes, they were dressed in furs, thick layers of them. 'A bit too prepared, I think. Gosh, they must be hot! It's really not that cold out tonight…'

Cedric didn't reply and she looked up to see his gaze fixated on one of the students. His eyes were wide.

'What is it?' She asked, craning her neck to try and see what he was looking at.

He glanced at her in surprise, as if only just realising she was there. 'It's Krum! Viktor Krum!' He must still be a student!'

Viktor Krum was one of two names she'd made an effort to remember at the Quidditch Cup, so her eyes lit up, pleased that she was able to recognise the name – if not the face, she thought frustratedly, as she realised she couldn't identify him.

Cedric must have noticed her fruitless searching because he pointed and leant closer to her so that she could tell exactly who he was pointing at. She finally spotted Krum.

'Oh! I suppose he's entering the tournament. Do you think he'll be chosen?'

Cedric moved back to where he had been and Hermione shivered at the sudden loss of warmth. 'It wouldn't surprise me if he is.' His reply was distant and muted; Hermione wondered what he was thinking about. Perhaps gauging Krum as potential competition, but that didn't really seem like Cedric. She blinked; surprised that she was making such confident assumptions about Cedric when they hadn't really got to know each other yet.

She heard Harry's voice and pulled herself out of her reverie. 'Hermione, c'mon!' Ron said to her. 'Everyone's starting to go back to the castle and I don't want to miss out on any of the good food.'

Hermione raised her eyebrows and shook her head resignedly at Ron's train of thought. Trust him to be thinking of food when the entire rest of the school was buzzing about the tournament.

She glanced at Cedric. 'Well, I'll see you soon! Good luck with the goblet!'

He said something in farewell which she didn't quite catch and she turned around to walk with Harry and Ron back up the hill to the castle. Ron grinned at her from around Harry's back, clearly thrilled to have seen Krum, and she couldn't help but return the smile.

'Guess we're going to find out tomorrow who the champions are, right?' Harry asked, although she suspected he knew question was rather pointless.
She snuck in between the two of them and in a fit of frivolity and mischievousness which seemed to have sprung from nowhere and linked arms with both of them, but her mood immediately sunk.

'That's right. Tomorrow night. Halloween.'

Her out-of-character reply puzzled Harry and Ron, but they merely looked at each other and shrugged. However, Hermione's playful mood had dissipated at the same time she had formulated the answer, because even though she'd wished Cedric good luck, she couldn't help but worry about the danger he would be facing if he was picked – and she had a bad feeling that it could quite possibly be him.

A/N: Yes, I am extraordinarily guilty. I apologize. Profusely. Excessively. Vehemently. I have been neglecting my story.
Good news: Summer holidays soon! A month from now and I'll be free till February! (Yes, that means updates!)
Bad news: Exams stand between me and freedom. Exams mean study. Exams mean less time writing.
That's all. I send an abundance of love to my reviewers.