Hermione was quietly pleased throughout her study session with her Slytherin friends. It really was lovely not to be asked the simplest of questions; of course, the information being asked after would have already been known if one had bothered to do their assigned reading. Her internal huff was quite undignified, but as she was the only witness, she refused to let it bother her, much. She was willing to police her outer expressions and toe the line regarding manners, but she refused to give way to her inner thoughts and actions. Those, she thought, she could very well keep for herself.
She found herself happy for the comfortable, and mostly silent company in the library. She had managed to not only complete her assignment but have it fact-checked by others who were also rather well educated and capable of completing assignments on time without her having to nag them. There were a few minor disagreements and academic arguments, though Hermione found she was enjoying those. Especially since they never got out of hand and it was all done in a hushed whisper. Whosoever dared disturbed the tranquility of the library could and would be shunned by Madam Pince. Hermione had this happen enough when Ron was in a snit and she found it doubtful she could forgive him. Often, Hermione worked alone for this reason banning anyone from approaching and asking her questions in the library. This rule was often broken if the individual was not, in fact, Ronald Bilius Weasley.
Conversation was not constant, though there were some mutterings to her left as Draco read through his assignment, and occasionally scoffed at his text. She found it didn't annoy her as much as it might have, finding the text to be lacking in several respects. When the proofreading began, there were arguments about why one ingredient would work better than another, or how removing one and adding another could yield the same potion but with fewer ingredients. Hermione came to realize that she was missing a lot in her magical education and was thankful for her Opa for his willingness to answer her unending questions.
Against her better judgment, Hermione decided to admit ignorance and ask some questions of the peers around her. "Alright, so, while I am following this conversation because it so closely relates to what I have been training in all summer, there are still things I don't really understand. I know that being a Muggle-born has definite drawbacks, and I can see now how being submerged in magic your entire life could sort of foster ill will, but honestly, why don't Muggle-Borns have an introductory class or something?"
Draco and Theo shared a look before Draco replied. "I'm not sure, really. It became clear, rather early on, that you were gifted with magic but that you didn't grasp basic knowledge of some things. I had actually considered that you simply wouldn't have known, because you didn't have a nanny or a Mum who knew these things and you hadn't been taught them from the cradle-like the rest of us. Potions is a perfect example. You were always able to create a suitable potion, but now you can manipulate them and just understand things you couldn't before, right?"
Hermione nodded, "It's like my magic just tells me what would work and what wouldn't sometimes. Like it does when I'm trying to match a person with a wand."
"I guess in a way it's like that for us all the time. We are constantly surrounded by our magic and we have always known it is there. Were you aware affinities with certain kinds of magic run through bloodlines?" Hermione shook her head in response. "It does. Blacks are good with Transfiguration, and some are good with Divination though that one is rare. Malfoy's have a good grasp on Healing and Curse-Breaking. The Potter's used to be Aurors a lot of the time, so Defense, not really shocking there. The Weasley's have always been good with Charms, but the Prewett's were wonderful with inventing new spells and Arithmancy. These are just some examples. Occasionally you have someone who is good at a lot of things, but a lot of bloodlines seems to be specialized. I think it's because the people surrounding us are so good and almost intuitively understand what they are doing that we have a better understanding. Magic isn't cut and dry, and a lot of it can be achieved different ways with the same results. It's partly intuitive and if you don't know how to trust your magic not to steer you wrong, if you get bogged down in the instructions and ignore all of the theory and other possibilities, you're going to miss what your magic is saying to you. Does that make any sense?"
Hermione looked at Draco, eyes wide with surprise. Not only was that the most he had ever said to her at once, with no insults, but it was in fact quite clear. Basically, she had been ignoring the gift she had been trying so hard to embrace, because no one had bothered to explain this to her. "I believe it does, though if you had put it this way four months ago, it would not have. I have spent a lot of time submerged in theoretical situations as of late, and it forced me to rely on trial and error. That's probably how I started to grasp what my magic was saying to me. And you all have been doing this since you were much younger than me?"
Hermione looked across the table to find Blaise and Theo nodding along. "It's the difference in having talent but no practice, and then learning to do both at once. It's just a matter of finding out how your magic speaks to you," Theo added.
"This is so very interesting! How would one teach another to find their magic like this?" Hermione asked in an excited whisper.
"Well, my Mum had me do basic things around the house from a young age. Simple things you know, like using cleaning charms. She would not tell me much aside from the wand movement and incantation, but I would figure it out pretty quickly. When you're a child you believe things a little more easily than you would as an adult, or even an older child. You're not so jaded, and if you believe your magic is pulling you in a certain direction, who's to say it's not? If it manifests as an aura or a light trail? So it is. I would wager it's different for everyone," Blaise replied.
"My Father had me doing meditation at a young age to stop my endless reading, that's when it happened for me," Theo supplied.
"It was when I learned to fly that it really clicked for me, how to see and listen to my magic," Draco sounded wistful.
"You know, that makes sense for all of you. Mine was when I was immersed in a magical research project…" Hermione smiled wanly. The boys around her shared a laugh at her expense, not all that shocked Hermione had finally learned to listen to her magic surrounded in piles of books.
"It's an odd thing for everyone. I don't know why they don't stress this to Muggle-Born students as first years. I mean honestly, if you could have understood it then, do you think you would have had any issues with that Troll?" Draco scoffed.
"I told you about that in confidence!" Hermione screeched at him, nudging his shoulder. "Besides, I lived. The troll situation was not something I would like to repeat, however. Such an odor!"
Draco laughed at her crinkled nose and thought to himself she looked rather cute just then. He could not blame her at all, a troll would likely cause much grief to one's olfactory senses. He was happier than he could say not to have experienced such a stench, yet. "Do you all have the time? It must be nearing time for dinner at this point?"
Theo checked a watch which was around his wrist. "We are actually a few minutes late, so we should get going."
Hermione moved to pack her things away for the evening but couldn't stop herself asking, "Theodore Nott, where did you get a watch which functions inside this castle? I need one, posthaste."
Theo smiled and only stated that he might be persuaded to reveal his sources if Hermione would allow him to escort her to the Great Hall. Hermione rolled her eyes but saw no harm in it. She took his arm and the four of them left to dinner, Draco carrying her backpack for her. Hermione was not looking forward to more gossip at dinner, but she was glad to have new friends even if her old ones didn't quite understand the new ones. Besides, Theo Nott was an intelligent person, and her arrival with them to dinner would be cause for more gossip. It might, however, be gossip that helped her to solidify the rumors.
As predicted, the Great Hall was ridiculously loud. Generally, the room was full of murmuring sounds and clacking silverware, but Hermione was fairly certain all the ruckus was gossip. Unfortunately, that's an inevitability when hundreds of teenagers are living in the same space. She rather wished it were not the reality of the situation, but there was nothing to be done for it.
When she entered the Hall with her three compatriots, many sets of eyes moved to observe them. The smile which had been on Hermione's lips promptly fell away and was instead displaced with an inscrutable flatness. She mourned her easy laughter from moments ago, but one could only handle so much scrutinizing, and Hermione loathed for the attention.
She thanked Theo for courteously escorting her, and likewise Draco for carrying down her things. After handing Hermione back her bag, she and her friends parted ways to opposite sides of the Great Hall to eat dinner. She almost would have sat with them but did not want anymore nastiness and she was not convinced the rumor mill had adequately done its job yet. Pansy Parkinson was a gossip, but there was only so much one witch could do in a few hours' time. She would be seeing her friends in a short while anyway, and she could use the spare moments to construct a brief mental outline before trying to speak to them about it. They were likely to think her ideas were mad after all.
Hermione walked up the table until she found Neville, Harry, and Ginny. She was pleased to find a good spot even though she had come in late. She did not fancy sitting next to Ron or Patil and try to eat her meal. No, thank you. Hermione scooted in next to Ginny and began to fill her plate while exchanging hellos with everyone. Ron, she noticed, was continuing the trend of sitting farther away from them with Dean and Seamus. Given the three of them were shooting daggers at her, she thought it was just as well. She made it a point to ignore them as much as possible and get on with her evening. Ronald Weasley had a hot temper, and he was not known for cooling off quickly.
"How was your day, guys?"
"Oh, you know, animals trying to nibble me to death, the usual," Harry answered with a smile.
"Hagrid sure knows how to ensure an injury," Neville offered.
"You would think he would have learned, what with the baby dragon and all," Ginny smirked.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "What beautiful creature did he have in store for you this time?"
"Baby acromantulas," Harry grinned at her, while she dissolved into a fit of laughter.
"He most certainly did not learn his lesson," Ginny remarked firmly.
"I'm not sure Hagrid will ever learn that particular lesson," Neville chimed in. "Those bloody books were a menace!"
Hermione hummed her acceptance through her laughter. Hagrid simply loved all of his creatures. "At least the venom can't kill you, yet."
Harry and Neville both laughed but agreed. "It didn't stop them trying though," remarked Neville.
Having met a fully grown Aragog in third year, Harry would be quite content to keep his distance, thank you ever so. And no, in fact, he did not want to have a spider the size of a large squirrel perched on his shoulder. No, and thank you to never ask again. He was not terrified of them like Ron, but he had a certain distaste for large spiders near his person these days.
Ginny jumped in next asking the question Hermione simply refused to ask, "Did Ron wet himself? Or did he just faint?"
Harry and Neville laughed uproariously because neither option was unbelievable. "Oh, he fainted. Then refused to participate in the class," Harry said, cracking a grin. Hermione just shook her head. She could believe it.
Neville cleared his throat, indicating a change of subject. "I couldn't help but notice your new friends escorting you to dinner, Hermione."
"Was there a question, Neville?" Hermione returned tersely. She did not want to discuss this, and she was certainly unwilling to do so at dinner at a table of lions who held their own prejudices near and dear to their hearts.
"Well, I guess I just don't understand it? Malfoy has bullied you, or rather tried to, for years."
Sighing, Hermione exchanged a look with Ginny. Ginny and Luna were her vaults. They did not speak a word about anything Hermione told them, and she was so grateful she finally had that. Knowing Neville was only concerned for her well-being, she decided to give him an answer. "We're…tentative friends. Some things happened that I will not discuss here, but we spent time together over the summer. My Grandfather knows Blaise's grandmother. They're not so bad, really, and again there are things I won't discuss in the open but suffice it to say they've earned my hesitant trust."
Of course, they had probably saved her life at a possible great detriment to themselves, but Hermione knew better than to declare absolute trust in them so soon. Besides, it wouldn't have been…exactly true. Only Ginny and Luna knew about the fact Draco Malfoy had written her over the summer after she had broken his nose, and before she had been adopted. His letter had said a great many things and held several apologies. Only Ginny and Luna knew sometimes Hermione had met Theo in the library to study, because he could keep up with her and was conversationally engaging. Blaise was, for a change, new to her, but she found him easy enough to get along with knowing his Nona would skin him alive if he treated her poorly. He was mostly harmless with his flirtations, and he had a way of bringing a very calm vibe to those around him.
No, that would be too much information all at once. And it would be too much information to tell them the truth about why she was picked on. It would be too much truth at once to tell them she had been friends with two out of the three boys for longer than they knew, but now they could be openly friendly. Definitely too much, and definitely not something to be said in the open where anyone could hear them.
Neville looked thoughtful for a moment and then shrugged. "Okay, good enough. You can tell me if you want, but I trust your judgment, Hermione. They're kids, just like us, you know?"
Hermione smiled and thanked him, grateful that Neville always seemed to have a very thoughtful and level head. Unlike some. The conversation turned to potions shortly after that, and what Professor Snape had wanted with her after class. Hermione was much more willing to discuss this topic, and so she rehashed her earlier explanation and conversation in the library.
Harry, Neville, and Ginny remained silent as Hermione let loose a deluge of words in their direction, thoughtful looks on their faces. Hermione could tell they were interested in what she was saying, they didn't have that glazed overlook in their eyes. She could also sense she had attracted some attention from the Ravenclaw table, though it was not all that uncommon, so she didn't bother tracking them or pay them any mind. They would speak up if they had something to impart, Ravenclaw's liked knowledge.
"You know, I never really thought of that, but it does make a lot of sense. Then again, I was brought up magical, and Gran stull thought I might be a squib. Though, I suppose that's neither here nor there because I've always been around magic and taught to listen for it, listen to it," Neville offered.
"So, do you actually hear your magic?" Hermione asked, eyes alight at the idea.
Neville chuckled at her excitement. "I suppose I do, but we'd better get some food in you, Hermione. Dinner is almost done, and you've barely eaten."
Hermione scrunched her nose, "Fine, but I reserve the right to pester you about it later. What about you Ginny, Harry? How do you interact with your magic?"
When Ginny pointedly stared at her plate, she sighed and then began to pick at her meal again. Only then did Harry answer her question. "I'm not sure I've really developed a sense for my magic, honestly. The only time I can remember feeling at home with it, or like it was leading me, is when I used my Patronus last year…and I suppose I felt it might have been letting me know a hex was coming my way a time or two."
Hermione's eyes went wide at this, remembering what Draco had imparted about family bloodlines and kinships with certain magical skills. She finisher her bite and told him he should see about working with Professor Flitwick, knowing he had been a dueling master before. Maybe he would even start a dueling club, and it might help Harry hone his bond with his magic. Harry, ever the dutiful friend, promised he would inquire about this if she would finish her blood meal already.
Rolling her eyes, Hermione went about finished off her meal as requested and looked over at Ginny. She was curious to see if Ginny knew how to listen to her magic. Ginny looked back at Hermione nonplussed, but sighed before replying, "Mum made us meditate until we could feel our magic. I'm not sure how it is for the others, but mine always feels like a lead. If something is happening and I'm doing it incorrectly, or if I'm about to fall, it's like my magic tugs me a little to warn me. I just learned to listen to it."
"That is so interesting! I wonder if it's different for everyone," Hermione mused. She decided to let the subject drop for now. Harry had promised he would speak with Professor Flitwick, so she knew he would. "Honestly, they need to have a proper class set aside for Muggle-Born students to learn this type of thing. It was like allowing a sixteen-year-old to drive a car without enforcing attendance to Driver's Education first. Poorly managed. I don't see why there is a class about Muggle's but not one about how to be a witch or wizard. It would have helped immensely in the first year to learn more about the culture and the things we are apparently expected to know and understand."
No one answered her, but Harry did nod his agreement. Finally finished eating, Hermione pushed her plate away to see most of the school, and certainly all their guests still in attendance in the Great Hall. "Why is literally everyone still here? Normally the Hall empties rather quickly at dinner."
"Oh, you missed that because you came in late. You see the Goblet, yes? The drawing for the Champions is going to be tonight so everyone is waiting around to see who gets chosen," Harry explained. The excitement was plain on his face, but honestly, Hermione didn't understand it. The tournament was rather barbaric, really.
"That makes sense," she hedged. The Tri-Wizard Tournament hadn't happened in many years and could be exciting if you also thought that signing away your life was a good idea. She had read about it, of course, In order to officially become a Champion of the school, you had to sign a rather extensive contract, a binding legal agreement, which happened to include that you entered of your own free will and the school could not be held accountable in the event of your death. No, thank you. Hermione was far too sensible to enter a tournament if the proctors of said tournament could not be arsed to guarantee the safety of children. It was why you had to be seventeen to enter, as it was the legal age of majority. You couldn't sign any legal bindings or enter into certain oaths unless you were of age. "And thank Merlin for that," she thought.
Moments later, Dumbledore stood and approached the Goblet. He did a complicated wand movement and the Goblet spat out a singed piece of paper. Before opening and reading the name, Dumbledore first imparted some knowledge. "Remember, if you are chosen and you decide that you do not want to proceed with being the Champion, you may decline, and we will choose a new school Champion. You are required to sign a binding magical agreement to be the Champion of your school, and the eventuality of your death notwithstanding, death has happened in the tournament before. The proctors endeavor to ensure the safety of all the participants, but it does happen," he intoned gravely.
"Now, without further ado: The Champion for Durmstrang is...Viktor Krum!" After the applause and congratulations had died down some, Dumbledore spoke again. "Please come up to the front with your Headmaster. Once we have called all Champions, we will convene privately to cover details."
Viktor Krum, that Bulgarian Seeker Ron was always mooning over, and another rather off-putting wizard strutted up to the front and stepped to the side behind Dumbledore to wait for the other participants.
Dumbledore did the complicated wand movement again and murmured something quietly and the Goblet produced another singed strip of parchment which flew into his hand. "The Beauxbatons Champion is…Fleur Delacour!" More applause and congratulations, then she and her Headmistress, a rather large woman, went to stand next to the duo from Durmstrang.
Repeating the process for the third and final time, Dumbledore unfolded the paper and announced, "The Hogwarts Tri-Wizard Champion is…Cedric Diggory! Please come and join us at the front." He imparted a smile at his student as the applause and yells reached a cacophony Hermione truly wished would cease immediately. She was getting a headache.
"Cedric is clever," Hermione commented. She thought he should be just fine. Neville was nodding his agreement, as was Harry.
Dumbledore was in the middle of dismissing the rest of the students back to their evening when a fourth sheaf of paper blew out of the Goblet, and into his hand. Dumbledore fell silent and looked positively dumbstruck. This had never occurred before, and it certainly should not have occurred now.
"What does it say, Headmaster Dumbledore?" asked the new Defense teacher. Hermione had not had his class yet, but she had an odd feeling about him. He did not feel like teaching material. She did not trust him.
Dumbledore cleared his throat and opened the parchment to see which name it may have spit out. The Hall was so quiet a baby Kneazle sneeze would have been heard throughout. His face turned stormy, then thoughtful, and then serious. It was such a quick flurry of emotion across his face, Hermione almost missed it.
"Harry Potter," and for the first time this year, several sets of eyes looking in Hermione's direction were not actually searching her out but were instead looking for her best friend. Hermione turned to look at Harry too, horror plastered plain as day on her face.
"What?" Harry asked quietly. He was pale. So very pale that Hermione worried he might be going into shock. There were quiet murmurs of outrage and glares, but Hermione didn't really notice. She was too focused on her friend.
"You have been selected, please come to the front so we can figure this out. Everyone else is dismissed." Dumbledore had to shout over the protesting voices and cries of congratulations alike, because of course, he was going to try and make Harry go through with it.
Hermione shook her head, violently, pulled herself up from the bench, and followed. No, she was not letting this happen. He was only fourteen years old! Fourteen! No, absolutely not, and Sirius would never allow it. She caught up to Harry just as he had reached everyone else, plans shifting and forming into a cohesive plot of action as she strode determinately towards them all.
"Miss Ollivander, you've no need to come. Mr. Potter and I can figure this out by ourselves, I think," came Dumbledore's tremulous voice and genial smile.
Hermione did not smile. Hermione thought an alligator might smile like that right before it snatched its unsuspecting prey. "No, I don't think so, sir. I'm well-versed in Wizarding law, as you might remember. I was the one who cleared Sirius when you could not, and I will not have my fourteen-year-old best friend competing in this tournament when he is woefully underage and does not have a guardian present to give consent," she spat at him, acid and disdain dripping from her words.
"You are not an accomplished legal practitioner, Miss Ollivander," Dumbledore said sternly. Hermione was not deterred, not in the slightest.
"She's quite right, Albus. Mr. Potter is too young. He obviously didn't enter his own name as a stunt, look at the lad," came the voice of reason. Professor McGonagall always seemed to know when to appear. Hermione idly wondered if it was a cat thing.
Stealing the moment, she could Hermione got her Head of House's attention. "Professor McGonagall, perhaps we should have Sirius here?"
The stern woman took her meaning immediately and sent off her Patronus to find Harry's guardian. Hermione looked to be holding Harry up, who still seemed to be somewhat dazed. "Of course, Miss Ollivander. Good thinking. If this was done to see Mr. Potter harmed in some way then his guardian should absolutely be made aware."
Hermione thanked her Professor and looked up to see her Headmaster scrutinizing her. She met his eyes with a fiery determination. Nothing would dissuade her, and she was making it quite evident. When a Gryffindor got that look, you were done for, and she let him feel the ire she held for him in her eyes. Perhaps not her plan, but it was there all the same. He wasn't going to have a choice but to allow her entry, Minerva was backing her, and too many students had already seen the altercation. Dumbledore did not understand why she would simply not do what she had been told.
"Alright then, the lot of you. Follow me, please," and the old wizard led the group of seven into a room which was just behind and to the right of the staff table.
Hermione kept her hand on Harry's arm, giving him silent support. She would not leave him, and she wanted to make sure she knew it. She spotted a chair and started to guide him toward it. The Defense professor had followed them into the room, though Hermione was fine to ignore him as long as she got Harry sitting, and soon.
"What is the meaning of this?! Alastor, you told me, assured me, the Goblet had been made tamper-evident," barked a very unpleasant dark-haired man. He must have already been waiting for them in the room because Hermione didn't remember seeing him in the Great Hall. "This is unacceptable!"
"Now, wait a minute Crouch! I said no student should be able to tamper with it, and he obviously has not! Look at him! The boy looks as if he might faint!" Moody growled and gesticulated wildly at Harry. He was not wrong about the fainting.
Hermione got more irritated by this man. "Honestly, are you a Defense teacher, or aren't you?! He's in shock he's so terrified!" Hermione screeched at the room. She did not give a damn if he was a former, current, or the most prolific Auror to have ever lived. Harry was her family. She got him firmly seated in the chair and called for Dotty. She was not sure she would be available, but Hermione knew dotty always listened for her.
Apparently, Hermione had succeeded in shocking the rest of the room into silence, which was just as well. She was cognizant that her hair was nearly sentient with magic, sparking wildly with her anger. Her wonderful friend Dotty popped silently and directly next to her, took one look at the situation, and snapped her fingers. She handed a bar of chocolate to Hermione with aplomb and narrowed her eyes in judgment at the rest of the room.
"Thank you, Dotty. Could you please do me another task? Sirius is taking a rather long while to get here, can you please find him and bring him to us?" Dotty only nodded and disappeared again. The room remained quiet, the only sound was Hermione unwrapping the chocolate bar and handing a piece to Harry. He moved mechanically but took it. Hermione was going to take that as a good sign. Hermione thought she may have seen Professor McGonagall's mouth upturn slightly, but when she looked a little closer, she had the same stern facial expression as always.
Moments later, Dotty reappeared with an extremely irate Sirius Black. The Black temper of legend was upon him in full force, as he eyed the state of his Godson. He took notice that it was Hermione standing next to him feeding him chocolate. Why was he not being treated properly for shock?
"Thank you so much, Dotty," Hermione said, breaking the spell of silence.
"You are most welcome, Miss. I will see you later, we have lessons," Dotty gave her a meaningful look and Hermione only nodded. She knew they didn't have a lesson planned for tonight, but Dotty wanted to speak with her, and Dotty had yet to steer her wrong.
"Yes, thank you, Dotty!" Sirius yelled after she had already gone. "Minerva had sent for me, but for some reason, MY ENTRANCE WAS BARRED! What the bloody hell is going on? Why does my son look like he's faced off with a hundred dementors? Why in the fuck has he not been checked over by Madam Pomfrey? And what in the hell is wrong with all of you that a fifteen-year-old witch and student under your care is more intelligent and intuitive?! He will NOT be competing and that is bloody fucking final Dumbledore! I will call in the fucking Wizengamot and stall this fucking tournament FOREVER because he is not of age and he did not put his bloody name in that fucking cup! Do I make myself clear? Or does someone want to argue with me right now?"
Mr. Crouch seemed rather taken aback at the man's tone and ire but said absolutely nothing because he was pleased the man agreed with him and was showing sense. Harry Potter was too young. He could not compete legally, and his guardian had very plainly said no way was it happening. So, while the theatrics were off-putting, he simply had no reason to disagree with the extremely angry man and he simply did not. Not to mention, Harry Potter's Godfather was a Black, and a Black that had spent twelve years in Azkaban, and it was partially his fault. No, he would be keeping his mouth shut, thank you very much.
Professor McGonagall seemed pleased in a way a cat is pleased to watch events unfold. She watched her former student pace up and down the small room, putting himself between his son and Albus Dumbledore, and she was unbelievably pleased at the sight. Harry needed a real parent, and his Muggle relatives had been horrible. She was intensely relieved and heartened at the sight of the family Harry Potter had, now. An extremely angry Sirius Black pacing just so, that hinted he was part animal. Of course, Minerva knew he was. It did much to unnerve everyone on the other side of the room. Indeed, next to Mr. Harry Potter was one of her very own lion cubs, protecting her family quite fiercely. Although, she looked quite snake-like at present. Calm and languid, but quite poised to strike should danger arise. Very interesting, and Minerva found it did not bother her one bit. She could only protect Harry against Albus so much, but Sirius and Hermione didn't have to toe the line with Albus, and especially not in this.
Alastor Moody -outwardly- had sat passively throughout the lad's tirade, because Alastor Moody would see no reason to argue with perfectly sensible notions. Bartemius Crouch, Jr. however, could argue but so no reason to do so. No, he could get to the Potter brat some other way for his Lord if he needed to. No need to draw any further attention to himself, though he would rather enjoy bringing the chit of a girl down a peg or two. His plan might have worked had she not intervened, and so very publicly. Alastor Moody wouldn't do anything in this situation, but Barty, well, he wanted to do a lot of things that would only blow his cover. He took a sip of his Polyjuice Potion from his flask and remained silent.
None of the other Champions had uttered a word. They might have, had Harry been trying to participate. Rather it seemed the boy was actually intelligent and wanted no part of the Tournament other than to watch. Though, Viktor Krum was staring at Hermione Ollivander as if she would be tasty and he would be very curious indeed to find out what her flavor was. Of course, this went unnoticed by largely everyone, save Sirius. He would have to find a time to warn Hermione about that.
Sirius was waiting for Albus to say something stupid. Something to try and change Harry's mind. He should never have called Harry up to the front like that in the first place. He should have never read the name aloud. He should have disregarded it knowing the boy was underage. Dumbledore always had to push it when it came to Harry, though. He had surprisingly been quiet while Sirius paced and yelled. Perhaps he was not completely senile yet, because Sirius could see him weighing his options. He was wondering what he could get away with. From the faces of those in the room, the answer was not much. Defeat, then.
"Minerva, please escort Mr. Potter to Madam Pomfrey. He seems better but it's best to be safe," Dumbledore said quietly.
Hermione did not scoff. She did not roll her eyes. She did nothing disrespectful at all, aside from thinking that Albus Dumbledore was an old fool who was going to get a lot of people killed.
"Of course, Albus. Sirius, would you like to stay with Harry for the night? I'm sure something can be arranged." Minerva offered mostly to take care of her cubs, but it was a bonus to further piss off Albus.
"Yes, I would like that. Thank you. Hermione, you're coming with us," Sirius said in a much calmer tone of voice. He scowled at Viktor Krum to let him know he had been seen. Sirius was perfectly aware of what Hermione was capable of, but it would still be good to make sure the boy knew would be watched.
"Absolutely, I wouldn't dream of deserting my brother," Hermione smiled at him. Sirius gathered Harry and got him to his feet. He did not immediately sway, which was a good sign and an improvement from earlier.
Minerva walked near Sirius to help catch Harry should they stumble, Hermione brought up the rear. Just before she exited the room, she turned and said, "I do apologize for my outburst and that of Mr. Black. We don't have much family, but we do protect what we have. I wish you all the best of luck in the tournament. Oh, and doubly sorry to you Professor Moody. I suppose not everyone is used to seeing the physical signs of shock. We got used to it last year, unfortunately." She gave them a polite smile and closed the door behind her. No one had missed the fact that she had not included the Headmaster in her apology.
Hermione quickened her steps to catch up to Harry and Sirius just as they were about to exit the hall. Professor McGonagall had already alerted Madam Pomfrey and was on her way to make sleeping arrangements for Sirius to be nearby. Honestly, she knew it was likely he would remain in the hospital wing with Harry, but it never hurt to be considerate of all possibilities.
Sirius looked askance at her when she evened up with them, Harry mostly walking on his own power now. "Thanks, Hermione. Harry and Minerva told me what you did. I really appreciate you, little witch. He was going to try to put Harry in the tournament anyway. I'm almost sure of it," he growled the last.
Hermione indicated they shouldn't talk about this in the open hall with a shake of her head. "Of course, I would do anything for Harry. He's family." She smiled up at them both, because Sirius was family, too.
Sirius chuckled, "You're a good one. Also, a fair warning for you. That Bulgarian seeker? You caught his eye tonight."
Hermione scoffed, "I am obviously far too busy to consider such things. This stupid tournament is already going to be a problem with my studies. Forget about boys."
Harry let out a low laugh, but he sounded quite tired. Shock will do that to you. "Well, Hermione, at least no one will be staring at you at breakfast in the morning. Did you hear what they were saying about me, Mi? Apparently, I am the Boy-Who-Cheats now."
"Don't you dare Harry James Black Potter! Stop it, immediately! I will set every single person in this school straight if I must. I will make such a spectacle they will forget you exist," she replied haughtily. "Honestly, not even Fred and George could figure out how to pass the barrier. They're still in the hospital wing from their attempt, and you were with me in the tower most of the evening! Fucking ridiculous!" Hermione seethed.
Sirius gave a barking laugh at her language and ire. "Aye, you've got some of the Black blood in you."
"And I've got the papers to prove my pedigree, unlike some," she teased. Feeling better that she managed to get both Sirius and Harry to laugh, she parted ways with them and headed to the Tower. She needed to drop off her rescued bookbag and let everyone know Harry was alright, and that he would not be competing in the bloody tournament. Then she still had to head to the Room of Requirement so she could speak with her friends. What a fucking night. The term was days old, and Hermione was already tired. And she really needed to stop herself from adopting Sirius' syntax, her parents would not have approved.