A/N: What's this? Two chapters in one weekend? (I count it as a weekend because I don't go to college on Fridays or Mondays AND it is a bank holiday weekend AND I want myself to sound extra good). Does it sort of make up for not posting for almost three months? I hope so. If not, don't worry, with any luck I'll be able to make it up to you by the end of the week. If the story isn't finished, there will at least be ONE new chapter. I got all happy and excited at the end of this chapter and actually aawed. I never aaw at my own writing, but I liked this fluffy moment. Anyway, hope you're all having a good bank holiday Monday/memorial day weekend/Monday in general. Thanks for the reviews from last chapter - this is now my most reviewed story ever, having surpassed Restricted. Thank you for that, thank you ever so much. Now all that's left for me to say is I hope you enjoy the chapter and I hope you let me know what you think. Oh, and one last thing, ginnylovesharry07 made a lovely banner for this story, and I'm just about to post a link on my profile so you can all see it. =]
Eclairs.
by Flaignhan.
There were no real developments on the Crouch incident other than that Percy had been pulled in for questioning and the Ministry of Magic were now actively searching for Crouch. It seemed as though the man had disappeared into thin air without anybody seeing him for months. No more champions had been attacked, so Hermione's level of worry around the matter gradually fell.
However, it was steadily rising as each day they drew closer to the third and final task of the Triwizard tournament. The only silver lining on the very dark and ominous cloud was that after the third task it would all be over. She threw herself into library sessions, making notes on all kind of hexes and jinxes that Harry could find useful in the maze, then putting them into practise during intense preparation sessions during break times, lunch times, and spare times. As a result of this, she barely saw Cedric during the week that followed Crouch's disappearance, and they kept in touch mostly by little notes passed during meal times, or else when they accidentally on purpose crossed each other's paths between lessons.
From the sounds of it, Cedric too had been practising all sorts of spells. He had confessed in one of his notes that he actually felt like he had a chance of winning, now he was so close to the finishing post. Hermione could honestly say she didn't care who won, just as long as everybody came out of it one piece. Of course it would be nice if it was a Hogwarts victory, but she would not be shedding any tears if the cup went to Durmstrang or Beauxbatons.
Ron joined her at the dinner table on Wednesday evening. Alone.
"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked curiously, looking around to see if he was anywhere in the vicinity.
"You haven't heard?"
"What?"
"He collapsed in Divination," Ron said in a hushed voice. "He was screaming and shouting and then he woke up, said he was fine, and legged it. I've been to the hospital wing and he's not there."
Hermione frowned. "Was his scar hurting again?"
"I dunno, he wouldn't say."
"Did it seem like it was, though?"
"I...yeah, could have been. I don't know."
"He might have gone to Dumbledore," Hermione reasoned, pushing her plate away from her and glancing towards the teachers' table. "He's not at dinner yet, I think we should go and check."
Ron nodded and they left the Great Hall quickly.
"No competition, honestly, I can't believe he had a fit in Trelawney's class! I mean, I can't stand the old bag but to go nuts like that...still, maybe he won't even compete if he's unstable."
"He's not unstable," a firm voice replied.
"Well, mad or not, you'll be able to beat him Ced."
"He's not mad," Cedric told the other boy. "Leave him alone. He's got a lot of rubbish to deal with."
"Oh I can't believe you're sticking up for him," another boy said. "You probably believe he didn't enter himself into the tournament as well, don't you?"
"He didn't."
"Oh Ced, you are naïve."
"Just lay off him, all right?"
Hermione didn't have to see the boys that Cedric was with to know that they rolled their eyes at this statement. Ron frowned slightly as they slowed down their pace, not particularly wanting to walk in on a conversation about how mentally sound their best friend was.
"How're things going with Granger?" a boy with a nasally voice asked.
Hermione stopped dead.
"What d'you mean?" Cedric asked blankly.
"Well, have you copped off with her yet? Found some secret little corner of the library to have a bit of a feel?"
Ron stepped forward sharply but Hermione grabbed the back of his robes.
"You know it is possible to have a conversation with a girl and enjoy it," Cedric said. "Tongues can be used for talking as well, you know."
"I can think of a whole host of other things I'd rather have a girl use her tongue for," there was a chorus of laughter.
"Sometimes, I think if we all met now, we wouldn't be friends," Cedric retorted.
"Ooh! Don't get your knickers in a twist!"
Cedric huffed and the sound of brisk footsteps began to echo down the corridor. When his eyes met hers, Hermione froze, not knowing how to react. Would he think she'd been eavesdropping? Technically she had, but she hadn't set out to. She just hadn't wanted to interrupt the conversation.
"We were going to see Dumbedore," she said lamely.
Cedric opened and closed his mouth several times. He seemed unable to get his mouth around any words that might have been a sufficient reply. Finally, he settled on "sorry about them."
"It's all right," Hermione replied. "I get that sort of rubbish all the time."
Cedric sent her an apologetic smile before his expression turned more serious. "Is Harry all right? I heard about the er..."
"We haven't seen him. We were just going to look for him," Ron told him. "Before we heard those dung heads talking rubbish about him. And then about Hermione," his face was set in a scowl and Cedric's look of guilt returned.
"I have told them to -"
"We know," Hermione said kindly, "we heard you sticking up for him. Thanks."
Cedric sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his hand coming to rest on the back of his neck. "Well, I won't keep you any longer, go and find him. Let me know if he's all right, will you?" This last sentence was spoken to Hermione who nodded.
"You saw You-Know-Who?" Ron asked in a hushed voice.
The common room had cleared now; it was gone midnight, and the only sound other than the hushed conversation that they were having was the sporadic crackle and hiss from the fire, which was slowly dying as they spoke.
"It was...I don't know, it's all slipping away now," Harry rubbed his scar roughly.
"And your scar hurt?" Hermione asked, frowning as she tried to process all the information she had gathered since they had found Harry wandering back from Dumbledore's office via a more secluded and long winded route, so as to avoid the jeers from the other students.
"Hurt is a bit of an understatement," Harry replied with a sigh, ruffling his hair, "I yelled out, I can't believe it, it's so embarrassing, and now everyone thinks I'm some sort of head case."
"Well that doesn't matter," Hermione told him matter-of-factly. "They thought you were the heir of Slytherin in second year, yet you were the one who killed the basilisk. What do they know? What really matters is that this, this dream, this vision, whatever you want to call it, showed You-Know-Who with people who could help him regain power. If it is real, if what you saw wasn't just a nightmare, then that's definitely a much more pressing concern than whether you're a head case or not."
"That was supposed to make me feel better? Voldemort's coming back but never mind 'cause when he does everyone will realise that I'm not insane? Thanks, Hermione, thanks a lot."
"It wasn't supposed to make you feel better. It was supposed to put things into perspective. I know it's difficult to have the whole school talking about you, but it'll blow over. Playground gossip always does."
"Oh yeah? So how comes I heard one of the Hufflepuffs say they saw you and Cedric snogging outside the Hufflepuff common room?" Harry asked, looking over at Hermione.
Hermione's jaw dropped. "You heard what?"
"See? It hasn't blown over, it's just been pushed back a few pages. Headlines are that I'm a nutter, but there's always a small feature about what you and Cedric apparently get up to."
Hermione sighed and sunk low in her armchair, tapping her fingers on the worn red fabric.
"You got off with Diggory outside the Hufflepuff common room?" Ron asked, scowling.
"Don't be ridiculous. I don't even know where the Hufflepuff common room is."
Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "And the fact that they said you were outside the Hufflepuff common room is the biggest untruth in that piece of gossip?"
Hermione gave him a death glare.
"Right, sorry, I know that you have never gone any closer to Cedric than is strictly appropriate, and therefore you have never snogged him. Okay?"
Hermione huffed.
"Time for bed, I think," Harry said quietly, getting up and stepping carefully over Hermione's stretched out legs. "Night, Hermione."
Hermione huffed again and Harry started climbing the stairs to the boys dormitories, Ron following on after bidding her goodnight.
Hermione remained by the fire for a few more minutes before she too left to go to bed, unintentionally stomping on each step as she climbed the stairs to her dormitory.
Snogging Cedric outside of the Hufflepuff common room indeed.
It was true though, she didn't know where the Hufflepuff common room was.
"You look a bit peaky," Cedric commented, frowning a little in concern before he took a large bite out of his éclair. There was no nonsense this time. No picking, no licking, no dissecting, just straightforward munching.
"You'd look peaky too if you'd been stunned as many times as I have today."
"Ah," Cedric replied knowingly, "been practising?"
Hermione nodded. "He's more or less got the hang of them all now. We're going to do a little polishing on Impedimenta tomorrow lunch time, but that's all that's left now really."
"Don't teach him too much, I would like a chance at winning," he smiled good naturedly. "Eat something, you look ill."
Hermione shook her head.
"I didn't see you at dinner, have you even eaten at all today?"
"Yes," Hermione said with a defensive tone. "I had some toast at breakfast."
"And..."
Hermione looked away sheepishly. "I've been in the library a lot today, trying to find anything that'll get him through this horrid tournament alive. I couldn't possibly eat anyway, I feel too anxious."
"I think you should go to Madam Pom -"
"I'm fine, Cedric. It'll all be over tomorrow so I'll be able to eat properly once it's all finished. Merlin knows I've been waiting this to end since it began. I just have to make it through tomorrow without having a panic attack and all will be fine."
"You're more nervous than I am," Cedric said with a smile. "There's nothing to worry about, honestly."
"None of you seem to realise that you could get very badly hurt!" Hermione said hysterically. "They've cancelled this tournament a dozen times before because people competing have been badly hurt, or killed, yet none of you seem to take this into account! The last time it was cancelled was because one of the students was eaten by a manticore!"
"Well I don't think Dumbledore will have any manticores in the maze," Cedric said with a chuckle.
"Why not? He had dragons! Why not throw a couple of acromantula in there too? Why not a chimaera? Hell, if Harry hadn't killed that basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets he could have let that in one the fun as well!"
"Calm down," Cedric told her. "Dumbledore wouldn't put any of us in any situation if he didn't think we could handle it. He would never put any of us in danger. Never."
Hermione's erratic breathing began to slow a little and Dobby trotted up to her with a tray.
"Dobby heard miss has gone without dinner. Dobby has dinner for miss."
Before she could even protest, Cedric had taken the tray from Dobby, thanked the elf, set it down on Hermione's lap and given her a look that informed her that she would not be able to leave the kitchen before she had consumed a sufficient amount of the large meal resting on her knees.
"I'm just so worried," she told him, in between mouthfuls of broccoli. She hadn't realised that she was really quite hungry until the first mouthful of food, and in her haste to convey to Cedric just how anxious she really was, she was eating at three times the speed she usually did, earning herself a raised eyebrow from Cedric.
"You don't need to worry. Honestly. I'm going to be fine, Harry's going to be fine, everyone's going to be fine. It's not like it used to be, so just sit back and enjoy it tomorrow."
"Professor McGonagall didn't want Harry to compete," Hermione said sulkily, as though everything Professor McGonagall said was absolutely one hundred per cent unquestionably true.
"Yes, but that was before, Harry's proved himself to be quite the worthy champion since then. I didn't see what happened with that horntail but I heard Bagman's commentary when I was in the tent. Sounded quite epic if you ask me."
"There's still the matter of who put his name in that goblet," Hermione told him, cutting up her chicken roughly. "Whoever did it didn't do it so Harry could have a jolly good time and possibly win a thousand galleons, they did it because they know how dangerous it is. Because they know he could get hurt. He could die."
"For Merlin's sake, Hermione!" Cedric half yelled. "Harry is not going to die! Yes, he does have a trouble magnet attached to him, but he's in this just the same as the rest of us. No one can hurt him in that maze, it's been set up by the Ministry," he seemed to be labouring under the false impression that the Ministry was the most trusted authority in the whole world, but since the debacle with Sirius's false imprisonment, (which Hermione blamed on the absence of any sort of trial, let alone a fair one) Bertha Jorkins' disappearance as well as Mr Crouch's and Cornelius Fudge's clear lack of rational thought, Hermione didn't place much trust in the Ministry at all.
She didn't respond to Cedric, just continued eating her late dinner in silence while Cedric began picking apart an éclair. After a minute or so of fiddling he set the ruined cream cake down on his plate and sighed. "I'm sorry I shouted," he said.
Hermione looked towards him, a questioning look on her face.
"I am, honestly. It's just not all that comforting when the most intelligent and logical witch in the whole castle is absolutely positive that someone is going to die in that maze tomorrow."
Hermione's expression softened into a slightly guilty look. "I didn't mean to worry you," she said. "And you don't need to apologise, you didn't shout."
"I did. Sort of. I was horrible."
Hanging around with Harry and Ron, who both had very short fuses coupled with raging hormones meant that she was used to angry outbursts, and was also prone to a few herself. This apology from Cedric for barely even raising his voice above a normal talking volume had caught her rather off guard.
"You weren't horrible. I know I'm being silly about this whole thing, but I'm just worried because nobody else seems to be concerned that it's dangerous. Nobody seems concerned about the fact that Harry didn't put his name in the goblet, that Barty Crouch has been held captive somewhere and has quite clearly lost his marbles, and no one seems worried about the fact that Harry's scar has been playing up more than ever this year. And I'm worried about you, and Viktor, and Fleur as well because where Harry's concerned, if people get in the way, whether they want to or not, they get hurt. If You-Know-Who is behind this, he won't care who he has to get rid of to get to Harry. He killed Harry's parents without a second thought, he's not going to care if a couple of Triwizard champions are about. The only person who does seem worried is Sirius. He seems to be the only one thinking all of this through, but who's going to listen to a convicted mass murderer?"
"Not many people," Cedric agreed. "Just...try not to worry too much, will you? I know you probably won't listen to me, but just try, please? You'll feel better, I'll feel better, Harry's probably paranoid enough as it is without you doing extra worrying for him. Maybe you should get some Anxieteeze from Madam Pomfrey. I'll take you down there now if you like, Prefects are allowed to escort students after curfew."
"It's after curfew?" Hermione asked, looking around the kitchens for a clock.
Cedric pulled his sleeve back to glance at his watch. "Almost," he told her. "For fourth years, anyway."
"I'd best get back," she said, setting her almost finished dinner to one side. "If I don't get a chance to speak to you tomorrow -"
"If you say 'good luck' that's fine, but if you say 'don't die' then that's not fine," Cedric warned her, a small smile curving his lips slightly upwards.
Hermione looked away awkwardly. "I don't want anyone to get hurt," her voice was slightly thick as she began to imagine all the possible horrific consequences of the following evening.
Cedric reached out a hand and gently turned her face to look at him. "No one's going to get hurt," he said quietly, "I promise."
He was very close. That was all Hermione could think of. He was very very very very close. Incredibly close. And he was getting closer.
And closer.
She stared at the canopy of her four poster, running through what had happened in her mind. She had intended to consider it from a serious point of view, but all she could do was play the memory on a loop in her mind, concentrating on all the different senses each time, whether it was the feel of the slight stubble that was starting to grow on his jaw, or the smell of his aftershave and shampoo, the warm, comforting feeling of his hand in her hair, keeping her face close to his, the sheepish grin he'd given her afterwards, the way he'd walked a little bit closer to her than usual as he walked her back to the common room...
Hermione bit her lip.
"You don't seem half as worried now." The smug smile on his face didn't irritate her.
The feeling of worry had suddenly, in an instant, become a foreign, long and distant memory. She wasn't worried. Not one bit.
As she relived the memory for the dozenth time, she remembered one, very important detail.
He had tasted of éclairs.
Hermione Granger was not one for giggling, but as she rolled over and buried her face in her pillow, she made an exception.
