The Third Task

It took all of Hermione's self-control to keep her text books safe and secure (mostly secure) in her trunk. Her fingers were itching to flip through the pages and study for her upcoming exams. She daydreamed about sitting on the sofa in the common room with Fred, her revising, and him dozing off and playing with her hair.

Instead, she had been spending her free time in the Transfiguration classroom with Ron and Harry, learning new hexes and helping the Boy Who Lived (also known as her best friend) get ready for the Third Task.

She really wasn't bothered. She wasn't lying when she told Harry that she didn't mind helping, and she was completely serious when she mentioned it would help Ron and her with their Defense Against the Dark Arts exam. And after the disaster with her Boggart last year, she knew she could use all the extra points.

It had been a rough week. With all the extra training with Harry, Hermione had been neglecting more than just her homework. She and Fred had been spending less and less time together. Even though he swore up and down that he didn't mind, that he totally understood, she still felt the guilt eating at her at breakfast that morning.

Add on a particularly heinous Draco Malfoy and an annoyingly insane article about Harry by Rita Skeeter, and Hermione was quite sick of this whole situation. She was eagerly awaiting the arrival of the summer holiday. Or at least the end of the Triwizard Tournament.

She and Ron were packing up their bags after some last minute breakfast time cramming before their History of Magic test when Professor McGonagall began making her way over to their table. She pulled a confused Harry away from the group of them to meet with his family.

Hermione let out a giggle as she shoved her last book into her bag. She was surprised that Harry was as lost as he was; she had already figured out who was waiting outside for the raven haired boy.

"Come on Hermione, we're going to be late," Ron said, as oblivious to the situation as Harry.

She sighed deeply and gave Fred a quick kiss goodbye, who wished her good luck on her test, before she hurried off after Ron.

xXxXxXxXx

"What did you get for question 2b? Because I'm not sure if the answer was –"

"Hermione, I have never, and I will never, discuss a test with you," Ron interrupted, grinning and the now slightly irritated brunette.

"It's not fair. I talk about Quidditch with you guys," Hermione argued.

Ron scoffed. "No you don't. You groan and stick your nose in a book while Harry and I talk about Quidditch. Not the same thing."

Hermione laughed. "Alright, you've made your point."

They had reached the Great Hall for lunch by this point, but Hermione felt her hunger dissipate when she saw Mrs. Weasley and Bill sitting and eating with Harry at the Gryffindor table. She didn't have any problem with the woman, but she was nervous to see her when she remembered how small her Easter egg had been, especially in comparison with the boys'.

She and Ron sat down next to Harry and started filling their plates. The air had grown a little tenser at their arrival, and Hermione felt herself growing red.

"Hello Hermione," Mrs. Weasley said stiffly.

Hermione's smile faltered at the cold expression on the elder woman's face, and she muttered a soft hello back.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione noticed Harry looking between the two of them, recognition dawning on his face. "Mrs. Weasley, you didn't believe that rubbish Rita Skeeter wrote in Witch Weekly, did you? Because Hermione's not my girlfriend."

"Oh!" said Mrs. Weasley. "No – of course I didn't!" She smiled warmly at Hermione, and the girl thought she might have been forgiven.

Fred and George came bounding over then, George sitting next to Bill and Fred, of course, sitting next to Hermione. He leaned over and kissed her quickly on the lips.

"Hello love, how was your exam?" he asked, shoveling food onto his plate. He glanced up briefly, only then noticing the rest of his family. "Oh, hello Bill, mum…MUM!"

In all the time that Hermione had spent with the Weasleys, she had learned to things that she thought were pretty much fool-proof. One, that it was impossible to embarrass Fred. And two, it was equally, if not more impossible, to stun Molly Weasley into silence.

Both of those supposed facts had been proven wrong in the last thirty seconds.

Fred's face was as red as his hair, something Hermione had thought only the two youngest Weasley's were capable of. Mrs. Weasley's mouth had fallen open in a perfect little 'o', and for a wild moment the only explanation Hermione was able to come up with was that she had been on the receiving end of the Impediment Curse.

"Er, lovely weather we're having, aren't we?" George interjected loudly.

"Oh yes…quite," said Bill, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Honestly boys, I think we're a little beyond exchanging meaningless pleasantries, don't you?" She then turned to Fred, whacking him roughly on the arm. "I thought you owled your mother after the Ball?" she hissed at him.

"Well, you see love, I meant to, honestly," Fred began.

"Then why didn't you?"

"Er…I was distracted by your radiant beauty?"

Hermione rolled her eyes again, and an old fable her mother used to tell her rang in her ears. If you keep making that face sooner or later you'll get stuck like that. Hermione brushed the errant thought off; there was probably a spell to fix that somewhere.

"Nice try," she said finally, sighing. "Mrs. Weasley, Fred and I have been dating since the Yule Ball. He was supposed to owl you ages ago, but it obviously slipped his mind." She glared at Fred again, and he grinned back apologetically.

"Well I had gathered that much deary. Though it does make those Weekly articles seem even more ridiculous than before."

"I've suggested they get their own publicist, release a statement," George interjected. Hermione glared at him as well, and he cowered slightly.

"No matter, so long as the two of you are happy, I don't have anything against the relationship. Although if I would have paired you up with one of my sons, Fred certainly wouldn't have been my first guess…perhaps Ron…"

Harry nodded enthusiastically. "I was thinking the same thing, Mrs. Weasley."

Fred glared at Harry, who ignored the sixth year, while Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. They both seemed to consider it for a moment, before their noses wrinkled and they looked like they had taken a large bite of week old corned beef. The rest of the group let out a laugh.

Just then, Professor Dumbledore was asking the Champions to follow Mr. Bagman out onto the Quidditch Pitch for the final task. The Gryffindor table burst into applause when Harry stood. Hermione wished him good luck along with the rest of the Weasleys, but she couldn't stop the worry from forming in the pit of her stomach.

xXxXxXxXx

"They've been in their ages," Hermione said again, leaning into Fred as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

"You're worrying too much, Mi," he told her. "They're not going to let anything bad happen to them."

"And yet Victor and Fleur were floated out of the maze on stretchers," Hermione intoned bitterly.

Fred sighed and wrapped his other arm around her, hugging her tightly to his chest and kissing the top of her chest. "I'm sure Harry's gotten out of worse scrapes then a maze."

And then there Harry was, appearing on the ground just outside the dreaded maze, clutching the Triwizard Cup, and Cedric Diggory's immobile body.

Bring on the torches and pitchforks; I know it's been much too long. I hope you guys will forgive me for not posting a chapter as of late, but I've had a bad month. I broke up with my boyfriend after her brought his ex flowers and love note, and I haven't been in a writing mood. But I'm back with a new chapter at last. I hope you guys like it.

Thanks for sticking with me all this time, loves. It means a lot. Leave me a review with your thought on this chapter.