"Ron, what's wrong with you?" Hermione Granger inquired, grabbing her best friend's hand to try and keep up with his fast pace.

Ron shook her off indignantly and continued walking.

"Ron!" Hermione sharply cried, so much that he came to an abrupt halt and onlookers stared at them curiously. "Honestly, what's the matter with you?" she questioned, pulling him behind, "And where's Harry?"

Ron looked at Hermione, with an unmistakably seething expression embedded on his face. "The celebrity is probably up in bed, waiting for his breakfast to be served to him there," he snarled.

A shocked look crossed Hermione's face. "Are you insane?" she asked, snapping her fingers at Ron, "are you seriously telling me that the two of you have got into a petty, little fight at such a time? Harry needs support right now, Ron! How could you have got into an argument with him?"

"That's right, Hermione!" Ron roared, "It's all my fault. Harry Potter is a saint sitting there and no finger is pointed at him! All he wants is his eternal glory!"

"Ron!" Hermione gasped, tears springing into her eyes, "how can you actually believe that Harry put his name in the Goblet? He would never do such a thing."

"I don't about that, Hermione," Ron responded, glaring at her, "he's capable of anything. He must have probably gone down to the goblet late one night and crossed the ageing line, with the help of some random potion. Who knows?"

"Ron," Hermione firmly instructed, "you are going to far. Harry's your best friend! How can you not trust his word?"

"Yeah, I'm crossing my limits," Ron sarcastically agreed, "it all boils down to me, doesn't it. I'm the one who's done everything wrong. It's all because of me. It's all my problem."

"Yes, it is," Hermione hissed, "and now it's up to you to fix it."

"Hey, Ginny!" Hermione called, entering the girl's dormitory, "C-can, I have a word?"

The younger girl looked up at her, "Yeah, sure," she consented, indicating the chair beside her, for Hermione to sit on, "you look worried."

"Well, that's why I wanted someone to talk to," Hermione explained, willingly seating herself on the chair, "you see, someone just a-asked me to the ball."

"Wow!" Ginny exclaimed, clapping her hands, "That's great, Hermione, did you say 'yes'?"

Hermione gave a shaky nod, as Ginny did a sort of jig around the room.

"I can't believe that prat actually asked you, Hermione!" she laughed, "He's had his eye on you since his first year, you know!"

Hermione looked at Ginny curiously. "Who are you talking about?" she asked asked uncertainly.

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "My brother of course," she responded, "who are you recovering to?"

"Oh, no," Hermione muttered, burying her face in her hands, "I'm not talking about Ron at all."

A disappointed expression appeared on Ginny's face. "Then who?" she asked.

Hermione bit her lip nervously. "V-Victor Krum," she managed to stutter.

She looked as though she had just been slapped. "Who?" she weakly asked again.

"I know," Hermione sighed, "but it's true. International Quidditch Player, Victor Krum asked unheard of Hermione Granger to the ball."

"Hermione, have you really got a date to the ball?" Ron questioned curiously, examining her closely. She, Harry and himself had never kept any secrets between them, and her mysterious date for the ball was upsetting him immensely.

"Yes!" Hermione exclaimed, exasperatedly, "For the last time, Ronald, I have!"

"Then why won't you tell me who it is?" he cried, in a peeved manner, "Just give me one clue!"

Hermione sighed. "Even, if I gave you a hundred clues, Ronald," she retorted, "you would still think it's not enough. And anyway, I've already decided to keep my date a surprise until the ball...Speaking of which, why are you so concerned about who I'm going with? You should be more worried about yourself!"

Ron glared at her. "How was it that Hermione managed to find a date and that he and Harry had not? " he thought to himself, bitterly.

"You're just jealous, aren't you?" Hermione asked him slyly, reading his thoughts, "All the good looking girls have been taken, hmm? Well anyway, I should go up to the Common Room now. I promised Professor Vector that I'd make an extra chart on the rings of Saturn for the class."

"Okay..." Ron absent-mindedly said. A group of Beaubaxton girls sitting in a corner of the Great Hall, had just caught his eye, "I'll meet you there..."

"Great!" Hermione called, as she left the Great Hall, smirking in the direction of Ron's gaze.

"Hermione, you could you?" Ron shouted, as they stormed into the Common Room after a particularly horrible night, for Ron.

"How could I what?" Hermione demanded, "Go to the ball with Victor? Really, Ron, what is your problem about who I go with to the ball with? I have a mind of my own and I don't need you to dictate my life!"

"Well, at the moment, your brilliant mind seems to be making utterly wrong choices!" Ron retorted, "How could you go with someone from Durmstrang, out of all places? Fraternising with the enemy!"

"Ron, the whole point of this competition is to mix with the exchange students and be friendly with them!" Hermione shrieked, "I'm not 'fraternising with the enemy'! How could you even suggest such a thing?"

"Well, I'm sure you had much more than friendship on your mind!" Ron yelled back, "And that to, with someone who's more than a decade older than you!"

"Victor is two years older than me," Hermione hissed, through gritted teeth, "and what about you and Fleur? She's probably the same age as him and nothing was wrong when you asked her out to the ball!"

"Well..." Ron started to say in defence of himself, "that was her Veela magic acting on me. And I didn't go with her to the ball, did I?"

"Ron, the sole intention of your asking her out, was to go with you to the Ball! And you would have too, if she agreed!" Hermione cried.

"That's not the point!" Ron exclaimed, making rapid hand gestures.

"Then what, may I ask, is?" Hermione questioned, placing her hands on her hips.

"You just shouldn't have gone with him," Ron huffed, not knowing what else do say.

"Well, if you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you?" Hermione angrily shouted.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" Ron questioned, making a fist.

"Next time there's a ball, ask me before somebody else does, and not as a last resort!"

"Do you think Harry's alright in there?" Hermione asked Ron, just as the judges announced that Fleur had retired from the final quest."

"I hope so," Ron replied, "I mean, these tasks have been looked over by the ministry and all."

Hermione nodded her head shakily. At that moment, a red light appeared from somewhere inside the maze. "Oh no!" Hermione shrieked, crossing her fingers, "Please make that not be Harry!"

Ron clenched his jaw shut and tried to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. If Harry had sent that spark, then he must have been in some serious trouble. Harry wasn't the type of person to give up easily.

"The next retiree..." the judges announced, "is Victor Krum from Durmstrang."

Ron breathed a sigh of relief. Thank Merlin, it wasn't Harry. He glanced over at Hermione, who was peering anxiously over at the stadium, a worried expression on her face.

Ron shook his head. I bet she's probably wondering if Vicky is alright.

"How much more time does the tournament end in? Hermione suddenly questioned, waking Ron from his musings.

"Er, I think in around a quarter of an hour," Ron responded, looking at his watch, "So, if Harry doesn't come out by then, the officials-"

"Stop, Ron!" Hermione squealed, "Don't think like that! Harry will be out, he will!"

Ron looked at Hermione in shock, "I never said..." he began, but then tailed off, as a loud 'CRASH' was heard from somewhere below in the stadium.

Hermione seized Ron's hand and squeezed it tightly. "What's happened?" she asked in a high-pitched voice, worriedly.

Ron gazed down at the stadium, trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on below through the many spectators' heads. "I-I think I can see Harry and...Cedric!" Ron exclaimed.

"Oh Merlin!" Hermione gasped, "Is he alright?"

"He seems to be," Ron muttered, "but then why are Dumbledore and Fudge gathered around them?"

It took less then a minute for realisation to dawn on almost all the spectators.

"He's dead!" someone cried, "Cedric Diggory's dead!"

All through the audience, people echoed this cry. The whole stadium was in chaos. Hermione rested her head in the crook of Ron's shoulder, as tears poured down her cheeks. Thank god, it wasn't Harry...thank god...

DISCLAIMER: Some lines have been taken from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, directly.