Ooh, someone's… jealous? Maybe. Maybe not. All we know is Draco and Hermione aren't exactly enemies anymore. What will Harry think of this? Proceed to read the chapter!
Days passed and soon it was October 31.
"Whoever put their their name in the Goblet must be pretty stupid," Draco said as he and Hermione sat by the lake, keeping warm with scarves and their cloaks while warming their hands by the bluebell flames Hermione had conjured in a jar. She'd done that for her and Harry in their first year.
"Why do you say that?" she asked curiously as she examined her outstretched hands. She'd cut one of her fingers during Double Potions that Tuesday, just three days ago.
"Well, they'll most likely die if they get chosen and why go through all that for simple glory?" he answered.
Hermione had just looked up when he burned his finger on the flames. He swore and pulled his hand away. Hermione winced and pulled out her wand.
"Here, let me help," she offered.
She brought his hand towards her and aimed her wand at the burn.
"It'll sting a bit," she warned softly.
She muttered a healing spell and he flinched as it cleared the skin of the burn. Still gently holding his hand, she looked up.
"Better?"
He couldn't reply, only stare into her warm brown eyes and think how nice it was that she was actually concerned for him. At the same time she couldn't help but notice that his eyes weren't just grey but around the iris there were little flickers of silver and the palest blue. Without even noticing they'd been leaning in, slowly, very slowly….
"We should, uh..." Hermione interrupted, "get going to the Great Hall for the name choosing."
They backed up more and Draco nodded, suddenly interested in his now healed hand.
"Yeah, I guess you're right," Draco replied quietly.
Hermione screwed the lid onto the jar and picked it up.
"C'mon, get up now," she joked lightly.
But inside she was wondering just what had happened? One moment they'd been laughing and talking about the stupidity of the tournament and the next they'd almost kissed! It was very confusing. She hiked up the hill back towards the school, trying her hardest not to look at Draco. She walked inside and it was very dark, the only light coming from the flames that rose out of the goblet. She smiled at Harry. He ignored her. She furrowed her eyebrows and turned away skeptically, finding an open spot.
"And now, we would like to show you this Cup of Glory, the Chalice of Champions, the TriWizard Cup!"
Minister Crouch pulled away a sheet which revealed a glowing blue trophy that lit up the room. Hermione gasped. Who would be the one to win it? Dumbledore walked over to the goblet and stood calmly in front of it, the fire dancing in his bright blue eyes. Suddenly the flames turned a vivid red and something shot out of them. A piece of paper. Dumbledore caught it in his thin fingers and flipped it over.
"And the Beauxbaton's champion… Fleur Delacour!"
The girl whom Ron had such an annoying interest in smiled primly and stood, walking away into another chamber. The flames shot out another piece of paper.
"The Durmstrang champion… Viktor Krum!"
The intense looking boy rose and followed Fleur. Before he left though, he shot a nod at Hermione. She tried to cover her smile but Draco noticed. He scowled. Hermione was distracted by the goblet. The fire was burning red again. Another piece of paper flew out.
"Harry Potter," he murmured. Then he looked up. "Harry Potter!"
Hermione flipped her head to look at Harry. Confusion, nervousness, and terror were etched on his face. She wanted to run and hug him, never let him go so he couldn't be taken.
"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore repeated loudly.
Hermione nodded at him and he slowly got up, stumbling towards the front. Everyone was either eyeing him with disgust, confusion, or disbelief. Some even registered looks of sympathy. But hardly any. Before he could leave entirely however, the flames turned red yet again. She peered closer and watched a fourth piece of paper flitter into Dumbledore's hands.
"Hermione Granger!" Dumbledore called out.
Merlin's. Beard.
