(A/N)

Yay, yet another chapter done. I'm quite surprised I managed it at all, for it is Carnaval over here, a holiday celebrated only in the south of the Netherlands. It's a bit like Halloween, but the decorations and costumes aren't scary, just wacky. It once used to be some sort of Christian tradition, but nowadays it's more about consuming stupendous amounts of alcohol. I don't really join in with that last bit, but it still wears me out to be partying until early morning, so you should be grateful as I am to my encouraging reviewers that I got anything done at all.

Guest, Flyingberry, RebeccaRoy, Angel897, Rosemary Lily Marie and Tsukiyo Tenshi, thanks as always.

Then for your comments: yes, Voldemort will return. Probably before the third task even, but I don't have the details nailed down completely yet. I'll probably have him quickly defeated, with Hermione playing a key role in his downfall of course.

Oh, and I got this review that just said '...otter…'. I'm quite aware that this is Hermione's patronus in the books, I'm sure we all are. Therefore this comment can mean pretty much anything from a neutral observation up to 'What the hell are you doing making her patronus a crab while it's an otter?!', and I don't know what to do with it. Really, I love reviews, especially the critical ones because they help me improve my writing, but I like to at least be able to tell if I should take something as a compliment, as criticism, or whatever.

I'm glad you like my little nickname for Bill so much, by the way. I decided to make his patronus an eagle, for it seems fitting, and it's form was never mentioned in the books as far as I remember. It might have become a wolf when he was attacked by Greyback though, now that I think about it, it would make sense. But even if that's the case, that has not happened yet in my story, so I'm free to make it an eagle.

Then for the future. Bill will be back in the next chapter. I also plan to include something about how Crouch Jr. is doing, but I haven't found the right moment yet. I do know what'll happen to him though, you'll just have to be patient. And of course I have that nice little cliffhanger going on, so yes, Ron is going to kick a fuss.

But first this chapter. It's mainly talking again, a bit of planning an plotting too. Enjoy it, and I still don't own any Harry Potter stuff, except those mangy old paperbacks that I've read far too often.


Chapter 9 – Teenage Hormones

A month had passed since the first task, and Hermione found herself in the kitchens with Cedric once more. They were happily greeted by the house elves, which Hermione had learnt to appreciate rather than reproach.

When she first found out about house elves, during her first year, she had wanted to improve their rights and give them freedom and such. Cedric had been with her though, that first time she entered the kitchens, and he'd advised her to talk it trough with the elves first, which she'd done. That way, she quickly learnt that house elf magic was tied to their masters' magic, and therefore the elves had to be bound to be truly happy. She still wanted them to be protected against abuse and such, but she realized that she didn't have the political power to get something like that done. Therefore she had decided to concentrate on improving her position, for that way she could help her fellow muggleborns too, and creatures like goblins and centaurs, and werewolves, which had been added to the list last year when she found out about her favorite professor's 'furry little problem'.

Contrary to attempting to free them, this had gained her a steady friendship with many house elves, including the one that now handed her a bunch of chocolate goodies. He knew how she loved chocolate.

"So,", Cedric began, "how are you coping?"

Hermione thought it over for a bit. "Better than I expected.", she finally replied.

"The hero-worshipping is annoying, I understand Harry better and better these days. Being mobbed my hormonal teenage males is far worse, but Fleur has been great, and at least the hair's improving."

Indeed, now that it was longer, Hermione's bushy mop of hair had sagged out into lush curls due to the heavy weight. At first it had still been bad, because the constant strain on her head gave her horrible headaches, but after a while she discovered that she could put a featherweight charm on her hair, which made it a lot lighter and didn't even bring the bushiness back.

Fleur had been quite delighted, she tried a new hairdo on Hermione nearly every day, and the girls had become good friends between this and their daily fights with unwanted suitors.

For yes, the pretty hairdos had had a detrimental effect on Hermione's men issues. They just kept bugging her! Only that morning had she and Ginny been forced to hex Victor Krum into oblivion because he'd had the audacity to grope his fellow champion's butt. Due to his knowledge of dark magic, Krum had managed to sneak in a jinx or two to, therefore Hermione had been hit in the arm by a cutting curse, which meant she had to miss charms to get healed up in the hospital wing. She only hated him more for that.

Cedric flinched too, as Hermione mentioned her men problems.

"I get what you mean. At least my fangirls are too intimidated to corner me. Well, except Chang of course…"

Cho Chang was a Ravenclaw in the year between them. Being in another house and year, she hardly ever spoke Cedric, but apparently she considered it enough to make him the object of her teenage hormones. Consequentially, Cedric could hardly turn around a corner without being jumped on by the tiny Asian fifth year.

The worst thing was, as the victim was male and also older than the culprit, it wasn't considered molesting as was the case with Hermione, whose assailants were severely punished. Cedric reported Cho's behavior of course, and he deducted points as was his right as a prefect, but it didn't help. Suffice it to say, Cedric was not amused.

"You know, Ced, we're both being bothered by unwanted fans of the opposite gender." Hermione halted at that for a moment. "Scratch that, in your case there are some of the same gender too." Cedric made an odd spluttering sound, and blushed profusely. Hermione just snorted at that reaction.

Cedric thought he knew where his friend was going with this though, and now desperate to keep her from speaking again, he interjected: "You're talking about that blasted Yule Ball, aren't you?" He had read about the tradition in 'Hogwarts: A History' when he considered entering his name, and because dress robes were required this year, he didn't need Hermione to figure out that there'd be a Yule Ball.

"Always nice to know there's someone besides me who reads 'Hogwarts: A History'.", she remarked. "And indeed, I guess there'll be a ball, and I for one know that I don't want to have to reject hundreds of desperate males. I know they'll try anyway, but me having a date already might just discourage a few of them, and since as far as I know neither of us has someone special walking around inside the school…"

Cedric didn't speak immediately, he got down on one knee in front of her first before talking.

"Hermione Jean Granger, princess of Gryffindor house, champion of Hogwarts school, my best friend for three and a half years already and for many more to come, will you allow me to escort you to the Yule Ball, before Chang gets one of those chopsticks of hers in a place where I don't ever want to have an oblong wooden object?"

"Well, that last bit ruined the romance of it, but as it was pretty much me who asked you to ask me, I'll accept anyway.", Hermione giggled. The word 'romance' made her hesitate though. "Just… Cedric?"

"Yes, Hermione, my fair maiden?", he asked confused.

"Well, you know, we've been sneaking all over Hogwarts for more than three years. If that hasn't tempted us into a broom closet yet, I don't think anything will.", the girl mumbled, looking at anything but the young man before her. He however jumped up and engulfed her in a huge hug.

"Thank Merlin you're the first to say it! Ever since your first year, you've just become too much like a little sister to me, and I'm not really incestuously inclined. I guess we're simply better off as friends."

"Best friends!", Hermione confirmed in a resolute voice.

"Aye-aye, captain Scuttles!", he joked, knowing how much she disliked the nickname.

She heard it more and more these days, especially from Harry. At her insistence he wrote Sirius a lot. His godfather had returned to England upon hearing about the Death Eater mess during the world cup, but he stayed in London where he was fixing up Grimmauld Place with Remus. When Harry wrote about Hermione's alias which she used at Gringotts, he had sent them a picture of himself laughing, both to show Harry that he was looking a lot better than the previous year, and to inform Hermione of his reaction.

"Oh, just shut up, will you!", she huffed and stuffed one of her chocolate cookies into his mouth.

It was silent for a few moments, mainly because Cedric was busy clearing his mouth far enough to regain the capability of speech.

"So, my dear little 'Mione, there is no one special for you INSIDE the school?", he asked pointedly, once the last vestiges of chocolate were removed.

"Let's change the subject.", she said darkly. "Let's change it real quick. Let's change it to… I don't know, you think of something."

"Let's talk about your job!", Cedric agreed enthusiastically. Hermione looked relieved until he continued: "And those fiery red locks of your Mr. Gingerwing!" At that she just sighed. Mr. Gingerwing, a.k.a. William Weasley, gave her strange, sad feelings whenever she thought of him, which was the better part of the day, but mostly when she got letters from work.

That however, was the only downside of her job, apart from that it was perfect. The tasks she got challenged her, but she still solved them well in time. She got two or three of them a week now, as the goblins were very impressed, and it paid extremely well. She still remembered the first one fondly, and still had the letter that came with it:


Ms. Scuttles,

This envelope contains your first case as a consultant for Gringotts. We need it solved ASAP, but within two weeks should be fine.

The goblins dragged me back from Egypt a month early for your sake, so I suppose you must be good. I sincerely hope so, for at risk of sounding petulant, I did not want to leave.

Anyway, all the details are inside, together with the notes from the guy who was working on this previously.

Good luck,

Mr. Gingerwing


Hermione had laughed out loud at reading it; she imagined Bill pouting at having to leave Egypt as he wrote. Her mood had sunk again quickly though, as she remembered that she hadn't seen or spoken Bill since she'd sent him away from the hospital wing. She had wanted to write him, but couldn't find the words, and now that a month had passed it would seem odd to suddenly contact him.

She was glad that he was at least back from Egypt. It seemed silly, but it reassured her to have him in the same country. Unbeknownst to either of them, the goblins were extremely happy that they'd recalled Bill to England, for whilst the answers Hermione sent were perfect, the best really, they had only three employees with the cranial capacity to understand them. One was an arrogant manager who considered such jobs beneath himself ever since he was promoted. Another was Bill Weasley, and the third was Ms. Scuttles herself.

"The tournament.", Hermione thought after a while. "We can talk about the tournament."

That was no good either though, because they had talked about the tournament so much already. She had long since solved the egg clue. The screaming noise that came from it when opened had shocked her, so initially she had studied the rune inscriptions, found an amplification enchantment, and planned to disable it. She decided not to however, when she realized that the type of runes used must be a clue in itself. Indeed, the runes were from an archaic mermish dialect, so she tried holding the egg underwater, and heard the song. It seemed straightforward enough, something dear to her would be stolen, and she'd have to retrieve it. She couldn't help but think though, that there was a catch somewhere, a hidden meaning that she overlooked, but she was confident that she'd find it in time, she still had months.

Even so, this left her without a not Bill-related conversation subject.

"Skeeter. She's behaving well, isn't she?", Hermione finally said, quite desperately. Cedric decided to go along with it, understanding that his friend didn't want to talk about the tall Weasley. He had no idea what was going on between the two of them, but he wasn't about to screw it up.

"Yeah, I'd have expected her to be all gleeful and nosy after the first task turned out such a drama."

Indeed, the Daily Prophet had surprisingly been rather quiet about it all thus far. There had been an article of course, one that focused on the idiocy of the ministry, Hermione's clever defeating of two dragons, and her heroic saving of Fleur Delacour. Especially the last two were described in great detail, but furthermore the article only mentioned that both girls had been spotted and appeared recovered, there weren't even any insinuations about Bill carrying her out of the arena, something Hermione had expected Skeeter to blow out of proportion. Her threats must be working better than expected then, she supposed, but it was still odd.

"I'm getting used to Skeeter making factual reports, but even when writing the truth, she'd always dig for details, and this article contained nearly none at all.", Hermione remarked, she got a thoughtful look at that.

"It seems almost as if she deliberately leaves it vague, so that I can provide the details myself.", she added.

"That makes little sense to me, but if you say so, I guess it'll be true.", Cedric shrugged.

"Yes, that's what it must be. I'll write her a letter now, to quote from. If I write this the right way, it might just solve a few little problems. Fancy helping me?", the girl said as she withdrew a scrap of parchment from an inner pocket of her robe.

Cedric just shrugged again, as if to say 'why not'.


Dear Ms. Skeeter,

It is in response to your article about the first task from the Triwizard Tournament that I find myself writing this letter to you today. I am quite aware that it was published nearly a month ago, but I fear I was not really up to this any sooner. Do not forget that, even if I did beat two dragons, I am still but a teenage girl; that day was one hell of a physical blow, excuse me my language, but left me mentally scarred as well. It took me a while to recover, but once I had digested the whole ordeal a bit, I was given a copy of the article. It did not escape my notice that you must have left it up to me to decide just how much I wanted the world to know about my experience, and thank you profusely for respecting my privacy at a moment when I needed it like never before. The article still did a great job at describing the general story though, and with all the gruesome events in it, I thought that without knowing the end, people might be worried either about me or Fleur, Ms. Delacour.

Therefore, I would like to start with confirming that I am indeed all right, now at least. When I was carried out of the arena I was merely magically exhausted, for it takes more power than I can afford to use to tamper with wards and put such a strong stasis charm on a person. Of course it did not really help that I gave a blood transfusion to Fleur whilst I was barely even conscious, but I would do it again any day, because a life is worth far more to me than a little trauma.

Fleur is fine now too. Her many wounds were easily healed, it was the blood loss that was so dangerous, but the transfusion saved her. This did affect me, because of her veela ancestry, but it is not all that bad. My hair has grown a lot longer, and I will not get scars anymore, but that is pretty much it. I was lucky not to get any of the other veela attributes, like that horrid allure or something. In fact, I have a written statement from both the school nurse and an independent expert from St. Mungo's that I do not, yet the forty-six men (at last count) that have thus far tried to force themselves on me all used it as the excuse for their intolerable behavior. Suffice it to say, my body-bind hex is getting quite a workout. My faith in humanity however, suffers irreparable damage.

I suppose I should take it as a compliment that men seem to find me attractive, but the manner in which they express it is inappropriate, illegal, and detrimental to my mental wellbeing, which I hope them to realize as they read this.

Well then, I guess this would be all. I would like to thank everyone who supported me through both the task and the aftermath, and state that I have good hopes to bring the second task to an end as successful as the first.

Yours sincerely,

Hermione Granger


"It's brilliant, 'Mione! With those subtle comments about legality, you're threatening those guys who bother you without them even realizing it.", Cedric congratulated her once she was done writing.

"Yes, remind me to thank Susan for advising me to get that medical statement. It may not have helped much thus far, but now that it'll be printed in the paper I think it'll have a very positive effect."

"Yeah, she's nice that way.", Cedric said casually. He didn't even seem to realize he said it, but Hermione filed the comment away to mull it over some more at a later date, as there were more things to be done now.

"Let's find Fleur, we should ask her if she's okay with how we've written it, with us mentioning her in it."

Cedric readily agreed and opened the portrait entrance to the kitchens for her as she thanked her house elf friends for the service.


It had been after dinner already when Cedric took Hermione to the kitchens. Therefore, it was nearly midnight once Hermione returned to Gryffindor tower, and nobody was around anymore. Nobody except one young redhead that lay sprawled on a couch, but startled awake as his champion housemate entered the common room.

"Hermione, we need to talk!", Ron Weasley said after jumping up.