Chapter 45 Summary: It is revealed that Minister Marchbanks, Oswald Fudge and Nott, Sr. are in cahoots. Insight of the orphanage, Lucius and Narcissa talk about Hermione's veritaserum prank. Hedgeflower is bullying Hermione. Hermione has an epiphany about how magic exists. Hermione and Draco sorta make up.
TW: Mention of child abuse, slight self harm, transphobia acts mentioned, gender dysphoria mentioned.
Friendly reminder that I do not own Harry Potter and there shall be dialogue and bits used from the books and movies.
"Oi! Crabbe!"
Crabbe's usually squinty eyes enlarged when he saw Theo making his way towards him. The rotund Slytherin looked up at Goyle, fear reflected in both their eyes, but there was no where to run. After five days of avoiding his housemate, Theo finally caught them.
"Why the bloody hell are you two avoiding me?" Theo gripped the front of Crabbe's Slytherin lambs wool sweater in both hands, pulling him up to his face.
"Let him go." Goyle said, but he didn't try to intervene any further. He was great at taking orders, but not as great at making decisions for himself.
"I'm in the infirmary for two days after getting hit with conjunctivitis and you two don't visit. I go looking for you and despite the fact we sleep in the same dorm, you're no where to be found. Malfoy is still strutting the hallways, completely unharmed by you two –" Theo shoved Crabbe from him, and the boy had to catch the wall behind him to keep from falling on his arse. "What kind of bloke doesn't even try to avenge his friends?"
Crabbe's meaty hands gripped the stone behind him, providing leverage to push himself up. "What gave you the idea we were friends?" Crabbe shot back. "All you ever do is bloody us when you're angry, and boss us around! You're worse than Malfoy - And after the example that mudblood bitch made out of all of Slytherins, Goyle and I are just going to make sure not to piss off them."
Goyle vigorously nodded his head. "Malfoy put us in the infirmary enough times."
"Is that how you feel about me?!" Theo wanted to shove Crabbe into the wall again, but even through the red that was starting to ebb the corners of his vision, he could see that Goyle wouldn't let it happen as the large teen changed his posture as if he anticipated it. The only reason why Theo was able to boss the two around was due to the fact they didn't fight back. It was evident that had changed though. "Well fuck off then! I don't need you two anyway!"
Crabbe and Goyle exchanged a befuddled look as they were there first, but shuffled away anyway.
Theo let out an angered scream before he punched the wall. He realized too late it was a mistake - he heard the knuckles of his right ring and pinky finger crack. The pain of it sucked the air out of him. He leaned against the wall on his left side and groaned. 'They're bloody idiots alright. Can't they see it? Malfoy needs to be taught a lesson.' He knew it because his father told him so. 'If I could just finish helping out father in what the Minister had asked him to do... If I can just get her to seem crazy enough, father will be happy again.'
Theo pulled out his wand, trying to focus to cast the healing spell with his least dominant hand. He was used to pain, but when he cast the weak episkey to reset his bones, he couldn't help but cry out. He hoped that if he finished what he had started when he gave Hermione the potion, he wouldn't have to deal with any more broken bones when he returned home.
Hermione wanted to say that Sunday, was no different than any other day, but that would have been a lie. From the time her eyes cracked open from the time that she met Luna down by the Black Lake, the air was charged. Even she had walked around with excitement painted on her face, although that had little to do with the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students finally arriving today.
The reason why she was smiling, was because of how she was reveling in the feel of magic all around her from her excited peers. Regularly tuning into magic in its pure form was something she had practicing on all week, but only today was it palpable.
Before Moody's imperious class where she had her epiphany on her understanding of how magic flowed, she had always thought it to be a phenomenon, in and of itself. From the moment McGonagall had informed her she was a witch, Hermione delved into books on how to use magic. The last thing she wanted to do was to be picked on for not being as knowledgeable as the other first years. Getting caught up in learning, as she often did, she didn't look into any of its philosophies more, than what Professor Binns had grazed over in class. The Ghost wasn't much of a free thinker if his disregard of any rumors pertaining to the Chamber of Secrets was anything go by. Hermione herself wasn't much of a skeptic, "facts are facts" her mother would say.
After her detention with Draco last Saturday, she went to the library to bury her nose in several books to read up on different theories on magic itself. She had done a stellar job researching over the week, as she once again used studying as a distraction, since Draco still opted to elude or ignore her entirely. Even when she sent Persephone to him, her owl, her only reply was her unopened letter. Not to mention that in yesterday's detention, she was stuck writing lines while he locked himself in the storage closet to recount Snape's inventory. Hermione knew that he was still cross with her since she made zero attempts to pacify Bulstrode – who was now throwing withering looks at Hermione in class, along with hexes of his own. On the bright side, it seemed that Draco was only half right about Slytherin seeing her as a huge target: While they now verbally assaulted her like they had in her first and second year, they left the hexing the daylights out of Hermione to Bulstrode.
Well. Him and Hedgeflower, anyway.
Hedgeflower had stopped being conspicuous in class with her hexes, but that only meant the hallways were open territory. Her favourites were cursing Hermione with various spells, like the Jelly legs or Stickfast hex, after using a silencing charm so it was more difficult to lift the spells. It often didn't last too long as Hermione was becoming more skilled at casting the counter curses non-verbally, but it still had her running late to her next lecture.
"Perhaps you should ask Lucius for advice if you don't like the bullying." Luna wasn't facing Hermione as she spoke. Instead, she was bent over in a way that nade her blonde hair act like a curtain between them as she wrote on the parchment she had in her lap. "That's what I had to do with my housemates."
'You would do well to note that Narcissa and I are not just astounded that you would resort to such a method, but disappointed in your actions. When we took you into our home, we warned you that your actions would affect the rest of us. You will do better.'
He hadn't sent a howler, but Hermione still heard Lucius' words loud and clear. "He's actually already sent me an owl with what he thinks I should do." Hermione was holding his letter in her hands. Usually the letter would have been burned by now, but she was at a loss on what the next course of action should be. Hermione was ashamed of what she had done, but Snape's words on apologizing froze her with fear of what would happen if she tried. Meanwhile Lucius was suggesting she demand Bulstrode to name his price so any animosity was swept under the rug. Meanwhile, Hermione was hoping by ignoring the offending Hufflepuffs and Slytherins would cause them to loose interest in her. It had somewhat worked with the Darling siblings in the past, so she was hopeful, even if it appeared to be misplaced with every spell sent her way. "And what are your housemates doing to you?"
Luna shrugged. "Oh, they take and hide my things. They do it because I'm a bit odd." Her voice was so soft that it was hard to hear over the soft lapping of the water on the lake's bank.
Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "You shouldn't let them do that to you, especially if they only do it because of who you are. Do you know who took them? I can report them to Flitwick."
Luna turned towards Hermione and stares at her instead of answering the question. She then picks up the parchment and hands it to Hermione. "Moths are misunderstood creatures, aren't they?"
Hermione was confused and cocked her head to the side to see that Luna was not writing at all like she had thought. She was instead attempting to draw. "Is this supposed to be – Is this a moth?"
"It is," Luna pointed to a cluster of black dots in the middle of the turquoise ink 'moth.' "They're not much different from butterflies, yet due to the fact that they're furry, they're not as liked as butterflies."
Hermione pursed her lips, not liking that her query remained unanswered. "It's lovely."
Hermione looked up at the sound of Luna angrily huffing. "You're a terrible liar and you're missing the point again." Hermione's eyebrows went up at that. Usually Luna gave Hermione time to understand what message she was wanting to get across before she became direct, but it was clear that Luna had been holding her tongue on the Veritaserum topic herself. "It's okay to be wrong sometimes, Hermione. It's all in how we handle it, don't you think?" Luna paused and Hermione sat there, letting Luna slowly collect herself before she continued. "You're letting them bully you because you think if you don't apologize and acknowledge that you had done wrong, the problem will sort itself out. That doesn't make any sense, now does it?" Luna took her drawing back, leaving Hermione to stare at the black envelope whose ripped open seal flap waved franticly in the breeze. "My housemates would call you 'Loony', too."
Hermione pressed both hands to her lips in prayer position. This was the conversation that she had been avoiding with her therapist, and it was happening with Luna of all people – someone who, while she acknowledged to be academically intelligent like her, she still struggled with referring to as 'Loony Lovegood' in her head at times. Hermione could see how Luna and Ginny were friends – both of them had the habit of becoming extremely direct if they saw you weren't following along in conversation.
"So, you think I should apologize..." Hermione didn't try to say it like a question in a half-hearted attempt to deter Luna from answering, but in actuality, she desperately wanted one.
A thought came to her then: Maybe she and Luna weren't so different in being a roundabout person. The difference was that Luna was whimsically roundabout when it came to what she wanted to say, and Hermione was currently... emotionally stunted. "What am I doing?!" Hermione put her head in her hands. "I'm not taking responsibility like I should." 'I'm emotionally sabotaging myself again. I said I would have a normal year with Harry and Ron, yet I'm the one finding myself in trouble.'
Hermione sat like that for a few minutes as she mentally rebuilt her resolve. In her head, she made a list of what she needed to do, and what order it needed to be done. 'Actions speak louder than words, if I learned anything from the Malfoys, it was always that.' Hermione felt like her head was back on her shoulders again as she focused on fighting the mental fog that came with her depression and anxiety.
"I think... You should do what you think is best, and inaction is hardy ever what's best."
When she looked up, everything had a blue hint to it from having her eyes closed for so long. Luna had one eye closed and was waving the parchment in the air in front of her, as if the moth was actually flying. Hermione gave a small smile, treasuring the moment with her friend. Hermione raised her wand and turned the drawing into a small figurine. Luna grinned before she took her own wand out from behind her ear and animated it. Luna is a lot of things, but 'loony' is hardly one of them.
The teens giggled as the they took turns making the beetle circle and dive over the Lake's water. It was something so simple, but it made Hermione feel light – as if she was truly having the year she anticipated over the late week of Summer.
That was until she was distracted by movement on the opposite side of the lake.
She paid no attention to the tentacle that slipped up from beneath the water's edge and pulled the Beetle beneath its waves. Instead, her eyes were fixated on a group of three Slytherins and two Hufflepuffs that were across the Lake. Bulstrode was in the middle, talking to the Hufflepuffs, making it an opportune time for Hermione to out her plan into action, but what had her mouth dry and her tongue curled was the sight of Draco Malfoy, laying in Pansy Parkinson's lap as she stroked his hair.
"I'll see you later, Luna."
Pansy gazed longingly at Maximilian, who was sitting next to her, before she remembered that she wasn't supposed to look at him in such a way– according to Max, anyway. She shook her head, causing her thick bob to fly all around her. It was a comfort to feel the slap of the fine edges across her cheeks and she giggled when the hair tried to settle back into a sleek style when she stopped, but only succeeded in tickling her jaw. Her hair was the only thing she was completely happy about in her life, so she reminded herself of its existence when stressed, like every time she thought of Maximilian pushing her away.
Her hair was a reminder that she was a victor in at least one point in her life as her parents did not want to give up power so easily;
"You look like a boy, Pandu." Her mother said the moment Pansy had walked into their dining room the day she stole her father's straight-razor and cut it to the tops of her ears.
Her father scoffed. "You'll be no good as a wife if you can't even look the part."
Even she couldn't deny the cut was done in a hideous fashion, but that didn't stop the sting of her father's words – not that she let it show. "If you let Madam Diamanda cut it evenly for me, I'll let it grow out." She knew they wouldn't let her return to Hogwarts – to Draco – looking like she was used to scrub a toilet bowl, so they conceded.
She grinned the entire time she sat in the salon chair. She knew that by the time she got back to Hogwarts, it would be at her desired length, where it would rest just beneath her earlobes.
Due to her utilizing the one thing she used to self soothe the heartache was feeling, she didn't notice Granger had approaching their small group until she was right in front of them. "Bulstrode."
Pansy's head snapped to where Granger stood. Pansy felt her hair react by falling back into place as it grew heavier with her level of annoyance. Draco abruptly sat up, leaving several strands of his hair sticking up in the back. Pansy smoothed it down with one fluid hand, without taking her eyes off of Hermione.
She didn't miss how the Gryffindor scowled a that.
"The bloody hell do you want?" Hedgeflower shot back. Pansy could hear, rather than see, the Hufflepuff removing her wand from her holster. It was a warning Pansy thought that Granger should heed.
It appeared she did as Hermione readjusted her shoulders, almost as if she was trying to consciously look less menacing. "I came to apologize."
"We don't want your apology. You should have known better than to approach us without your wand drawn." Bulstrode declared. "Or do you like being put into a headlock?" Pansy didn't hide her smile at the reminder of their only dueling class in second year.
Granger gave an indignant huff before she stuck her chin in the air. "You wouldn't hex me in front of -"
"We wouldn't?" Pansy chimed. "Well, maybe us Slytherins wouldn't pull out our wand if hexes start to fly, but we would make sure that that the story of how the barmy bint of Gryffindor tower decided to start a completely random duel with Hedgeflower by the Black Lake was spread," the half Indian teen's smile was full of venom and it only intensified when she ran her hand down the back of Draco's head once more, causing Granger's scowl to deepen. "Completely unprovoked might I add."
"Especially after she made a scene in the Great Hall a couple weeks ago? Whose to question the story of one Hufflepuff and three Slytherins?" Maximilian shared a smirk with Pansy and her stomach did a light flip. If only he would understand that I didn't care...
Hermione huffed, but turned her attention back to Bulstrode, ignoring Hedgeflower who had just gotten up to stand in front of her. "Do you like wearing skirts still?" All five students gasped, but Justin Flinch-Fletchy was the loudest. Granger's hands flew to her mouth as she realized how she sounded. "I mean – transfiguring clothes is difficult! You've stopped wearing shirts with a feminine cut, so I thought I would offer to help with your trousers. Not to mention your hair - "
Pansy's eyes flew to Max's short cut that she had done herself. It was much easier to cut someone else's hair than your own, but deep down she was still hesitant on if her best friend had like it. Because her attention had shifted though, Pansy was able to catch the moment he snapped. "Clothes do not have a gender and neither does hair! Just because I look a certain way, doesn't mean I am going to act a certain way. I don't need your help."
Everyone expected Granger to argue her defense or defend gender stereotypes in general, but instead she put her hands in front of her. "Okay, I'm sor- " Pansy caught the flicker of Granger's gaze flying to Draco, then back to Bulstrode. "I don't want to tell you 'I'm sorry' for what I had done as I am aware that it would just be words. I don't want to just wipe away my guilty conscious, I... " Granger took a deep breath and made sure to keep her eye contact with Bulstrode to make sure her honesty was made that much more apparent. "I want to make amends."
No one knew what to say, and slowly, all eyes landed on Maximilian. Even Hedgeflower was looking back at him, trying to discern which way he wanted the conversation to end.
Pansy wasn't sure what compelled her to do it, perhaps she felt they were in the same boat of unrequited love, but she decided to give the Gryffindor a bone. She leaned in close to Maximilian and he instinctively turned his head towards her to hear her whisper more clearly. "Well spotted on putting the swot in her place on gender roles, but weren't we just spending the entire day yesterday on trying to transfigure your clothing?" Pansy had never put so much effort into studying in her life. Her grades were good enough to keep her parents off her back so she never sought the need to improve them, but for Max? There wasn't much she wouldn't do, especially when she had to watch him avoid mirrors and reflections lest he end up having breakdowns due to the dysphoria he experienced. Not to mention there were other Gryffindors who were exacerbating that fact by taunting Max, saying that he was a poser for not 'looking the part.' He was so tightly wound with pressure, he refused to ask Snape for the change of clothing – insisting he try to do it himself. "If you don't trust her to do the work, we can have her teach us."
Max sat there thinking, and for a moment she wondered if he was breathing in her scent like she had been doing to him. Zabini had gifted Max with a cologne that had a smokey scent to it, but beneath it, she could still smell something that was so distinctly... him. Even when going by a different name, Max had always been Max. Her Max. If only he would just realize that.
"After you transfigure what clothing I have, you'll have to teach me how to do it." He finally declared. "Not only that..." Max gave Pansy a sly smile and she wondered what her crush had hidden up his sleeve. "I want to see you embarrass yourself in front of the entire school, too. Then I'll think about calling it even."
Granger paused, as if she actually had a choice in considering his demands, but soon she ended up nodding her acceptance. "What did you have in mind?"
Maximilian shrugged one shoulder. "That's for me to know, and for you to find out when I think it's time." Pansy snickered, knowing that Max was buying time to ensure the embarrassment she would have to endure would be much greater than their own. Pansy looked forward to it. "Gwen, you can tell the 'Puffs to leave Granger alone for the time being."
Hedgeflower nodded and sat back down between Justin and Max. A twinge of jealousy shot through Pansy, but she refused to let it show and instead pressed her arm against Max for reassurance. They're not dating, they're just friends. Not like Max and I are together anyway. I have no right to be jealous.
"Thank you." Granger said sheepishly. She turned to walk away, but in her afterthought, she lifted her wand and pointed it at Bulstrode.
Pansy was the one who pulled out her wand this time, but before the cruel incantation could leave her lips, she felt Draco grab her elbow. "Look," was all he said as he nodded at Max.
Her head whipped her head around and she saw that Max was no longer wearing the gray, knife-pleated skirt that was standard for the female students at Hogwarts, but the standard grey pants that every male wore.
"Hmpf," was all Pansy said when she put her wand back into her robe pocket.
She didn't miss the smirk Granger had on her face as she turned to walk away. It was completely forgotten about when Maximilian bumped her shoulder, causing her to look up at his heart stopping smile. "You're my best friend, you know that, right?"
What else was Pansy to do other than nod her head and smile? She knew it, and that was why her heart clenched as Draco placed his head in her lap again. Pansy wanted to be more than friends with Maximilian, but she had been rejected twice already.
"Not that the feelings aren't returned." He had stated with her hands in his. She was vaguely aware of how clammy his were. This wasn't an easy conversation for him either, especially since it was being held in the Slytherin common room where their friends were all moving their stuff from the female dorms to the floor where they sat. "But this is a lot for me and maybe... Maybe you're in love with Milli -"
"Don't use that name anymore. That's not you and it has never been you." Pansy put her hands over his. You are Max and I fancy you – Or did I just confess my feelings to another bloke named Maximilian Bulstrode in the Great Hall?"
He didn't respond to her joke, and for once, she didn't push. She could see Max was overwhelmed and when she noticed that Snap was quickly approaching them, she started to rub soothing circles into his back. "Mr. Bulstrode, would you care to explain why you sitting on the floor?"
Instead of going back to playing with Draco's hair as he sulked in her lap, she ran her fingers through her own.
"That was a lie, Harry," Hermione hissed at her friend sharply. "You didn't imagine your scar hurting and you know it. Why would you tell Sir-" Hermione stopped to get a grip on her anger. She was currently making her way to the front of the castle again, but this time, she wasn't alone. The entirety of the Hogwarts student body was with her, Harry, and Ron. It would have been too easy for someone to over hear her mention Sirius who was still at large.
"Why would you lie about your scar?" She finally hissed when they came to a stop outside. The temperature had dropped since she was outside in the early afternoon with Luna, but the heat radiating between the student body stopped her from becoming uncomfortable.
"He sent me an owl saying he was coming back to the area, I'm not going to let him get sent back to Azkaban because of me." He gave her an annoyed glance, but turned his attention back to the grounds before them. "He's already told me to stop using Hedwig. I reckon he's already too close for comfort."
Hermione opened her mouth to say one more thing, but Ron turned towards her. "Drop it," he said sharply. He discreetly pointed to McGonagall, who was shushing students as she checked their attire to verify they were within the dress code. She heeded his warning this time, but thought he could have been much more polite about it.
"How d'you reckon they're coming? The train?" Ron questioned after McGonagall passed by them to tell Parvati to remove the ornamental butterfly she had at the end of her plait. "Or brooms? Maybe appara- "
"Ronald Bilibus Weasley, do not say apparation."
Whatever Ron was going to retort with was interrupted by Dumbledore, "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!" The students scanned the grounds eagerly. Even Hermione was standing on her toes, trying to catch a glimpse of the Beauxbatons before anyone else.
She felt a little silly for it, but she had always held an interest in what other foreign schools were like. When Dumbledore had made his announcement that the Triwizard Tournament was being held at Hogwarts, she immediately found the same book that she had in Draco's room over the summer and did as much research as she could on the two soon-to-be guest schools. There were no pictures as they wanted to keep their privacy on their whereabouts, but that didn't stop her from fantasizing about what the school looked like. It filled her with the same wonder and awe that she had been left with on the boat ride to Hogwarts her first year.
"Where are they?" She could hear Parvati whisper. Many students were asking the same and Hermione had even caught a derogatory statement made on Dumbledore's eyesight.
"Up there!"
Hundreds of heads turned up in unison to see something like a flock of birds flying across the deep blue sky. Hermione had almost dismissed it as being nothing out of the ordinary, until she realized that they were all tired together and each winged beast had four legs. "Pegasus." She whispered under her breath. 'I love magic'. She imagined that the feeling that built within her every time she learned something new was similar to what Hagrid felt every time he laid eyes on a dragon.
It was obvious to Hermione when the powder-blue carriage appeared, seemingly out of thin air, that it had passed through the wards. In Hogwarts a History it was documented that one of the security wards would force any disillusionment charms to fall once breached. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine that the power blue carriage was more of a pumpkin shape and straight out of one of the many fairytale books she read as a child – save for the winged horses of course.
The coach landed as gracefully as it could, bouncing on its enormous wheels as it did. Hermione's eyes widened as the horses trotted over the grounds. Hermione realized they would certainly tower over Hagrid. No matter where they decided to store the horses, she was going to stay away from them. 'Imagine that lot loose on the grounds...'
The door swung open and a student from the school held it open. Hermione noticed Harry, and Ron exchange a look as a woman, who was also larger than Hagrid, stepped out. "Reckon that's why they needed a big carriage." Ron joked. "Ow!"
Hermione poked his side and gave him a stern look. "Don't be rude, Ronald."
"I'm just saying!" He hissed.
"Well, say less," but her reply was drowned out by everyone clapping around them. Hermione shifted her attention back to their guests to see that the woman, who she assumed to be Madam Maxime, Head Mistress of Beauxbatons to be speaking with Dumbledore. She wore her hair in a knot and was clutching the front of her mauve, feathery robes in one hand as she waved the other, sizable hand to the Beauxbatons students who were standing behind her, huddled together for warmth. They wore silk uniforms that matched the carriage, but did nothing in regards to protection from the late October air. 'They aren't even wearing cloaks!'
" 'As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked. Hermione's eyebrows shot up. She hadn't heard someone with that thick of a French accent since she was in France. It caused anger to swirl within her.
"He should be here any moment," Dumbledore replied. "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"
"Warm up," said Madame Maxime. "But ze 'orses —"
"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," said Dumbledore, "the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other — er — charges."
"Skrewts," Ron snickered at Harry.
Hermione's lips twisted into a scowl. She had been right about the Blast Ended Skrewts – they had grown to be well over six feet and was growing deadlier with every class. She had her concerns that Hagrid illegally breed them and with good reason: She couldn't find a single bit of information on them.
After one class where Lavender had a good portion of her robes burned off from the fire a Skrewt had spewed, Hermione was going to submit a formal complaint with Dumbledore. She had planned to submit an essay with the complaint, at least seven inches long, highlighting her concerns on the class' safety, but without any information to back her up, she came to the realization it would only put Hagrid at risk. All complaints made with the Headmaster were to be reported to the Ministry, and seeing that not only did he have a record, but that the Ministry looked down on half-breeds, it would only put at risk. She left the library that day with her nose in the air, content with the notion that she did not risk being expelled first year for smuggling Norbert, his illegally acquired dragon, off Hogwarts grounds for Hagrid to be sent back to Azkaban over skrewts.
"The lake!" Yelled Lee Jordan, pointing down at it. "Look at the lake!"
Hermione looked over at the water to see that its usually calm surface had been broken. Near the middle of it was a whirlpool, but there was something that looked like a log sticking out of it. Hermione's jaw dropped as a great big ship slowly emerged from the swirling waters. The pressure of it being released was so great that it seemed to fly into the air for a second before crashing down and creating waves on to the bank.
"Thought it was The Jolly Roger, wouldn't ya?" Semus' joke caught Hermione off guard, eliciting a laugh from her and the other surrounding half-bloods and muggleborns who heard him.
The ship bobbed as it slowly approached the bank. It was grand, but did not have the daedalian design or structure to it like Hermione would have expected. However, it was apparent that whoever designed the ship, wanted it to be known that it was built with strength in mind. The broad structure didn't have a single crooked plank and it's massive sails looked as if they were starched and ironed that very same morning. The Dumstrang's Institute crest that was on the ship's mainsail completed the daunting look that the combined details created.
Once the ship was docked, a large plank shot out from the forecastle and landed onto the now soaked bank where its passengers started to disembark. The first man to approach them was obviously not a student, as he was the only man who had facial hair, and it was easy to assume that he was Headmaster Igor Karkaroff. The first thing Hermione noticed he and the pupils who were following behind him in Military Parade style, was that they were dressed in clothing that was much too cold for the Scotland's weather this time of year. She had no clue where Draco was, but it was easy to imagine his nose wrinkling in the distaste of the animal leather and fur the Durmstrang students donned. As Karkaroff drew closer, Hermione saw that his middle-aged face was decorated with thick, unkempt eyebrows whose colors matched the salt and pepper goatee he was sporting. She was given the impression that he always frowned, so she was quite surprised to see his face split into a smile that was filled with yellowing teeth when he neared Dumbledore.
"Dumbledore! How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"
"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied.
"How good it is to be here, how good..." Hermione studied Karkaroff, her eyebrows pulled together. There was even less information on Durmstrang in the library, although she was able to find some rare rid bits of information buried within Grindelwald biographies, but she could have sworn she had read his name somewhere Karkaroff's name somewhere. "Viktor, come along, into the warmth... you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold..." Karkaroff swung one cloaked arm open, encouraging one of the students to break formation to step into his waiting embrace.
As the student passed, Hermione caught the handsome profile of Viktor Krum. Her eyebrows immediately raised and she didn't need Parvati squealing beside her to know that she was going to be greatly annoyed this year.
"I don't believe it!" Ron said in a stunned voice as the students exited the Great Hall. The second welcoming feast had been wonderful, despite Ron drooling over a Veela Beauxbatons student and his small temper tantrum when Hermione didn't move her seat fast enough for his liking. He somehow got it in his head that the Durmstrang students considered sitting with Gryffindor despite that they were two tables down. He pouted until Dumbledore started his speech on the Triwizard Tournament. "Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!"
"For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player," Hermione snapped, already having enough of his fawning over Krum. She resisted the urge to rub her temples as she thought it was only the first night at Hogwarts.
"Only a Quidditch player?" Ron said, looking at her as though he couldn't believe his ears. "Hermione — he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still in school! I only wish I had a quill..." Ron looked back over his shoulder where the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons were exiting the front doors of Hogwarts to head back to their ship and carriage.
"An Age Line 'round the Goblet of Fire! Can you believe that, Harry?" Fred edged himself between Hermione and Ron by throwing an arm over their shoulders. A fraction of a second later, Hermione felt George do the same to her and Ron.
"A simple ageing potion should get us past it, and then once our name is in the Goblet, it won't be able to tell if we're not seventeen."
Hermione could not believe her ears and tried to look between the two brothers, but their arms had restricted her head's range of motion. "You can't be serious - that is so pathetically dimwitted! You do know that Dumbledore himself will be drawing that Age Line, right? Not to mention that anyone under seventeen hasn't learned enough -"
"Speak for yourself," Fred cut in, causing her to frown. "You'll try and get in, won't you Harry?"
Hermione shrugged the twins' arms off and stepped in front of the four boys. "He will not!" Hermione's eyes burned with a manic fire that her best friends hadn't seen in a long time. She held her pinky finger out to Harry, "promise me you won't go looking for trouble, Harry?"
"Hey!" He started to object, but she only pushed her hand further into his face.
"Promise me? And you too, Ron." She held her other pinky out to him.
"Why are you making me promise? I'm never the cause of it."
She gave him a disbelieving look. "Yes, but when trouble finds Harry -"
"Thank you," Harry said in acknowledgement to her correction.
"That means trouble finds us and I think it's only fair if I ask you to be on your best behaviour, too." She fixed him with a stern look and eventually Ron rolled his eyes before grabbing her pinky as if to shake on it. She started to laugh, noting she would need to teach him what a pinky promise was, but was filled with delight when Harry wrapped his pinky around hers.
"I guess bringing the family honour is going to be our duty, Fred."
"I suppose it is." Fred had his fingers laced together behind his head with an eyebrow cocked, waiting to see if she would make them swear they wouldn't get past the Age Line.
Hermione looked up at the older Weasley brothers with a smirk. "It's not going to work." She said the last word in sing-song and spun on her heel to head up the grand stair case.
"Why do you think we can't do it?" Fred asked as he and George flanked her in the usual spot that Harry and Ron did. "You don't know what we're capable of - we'll bring your nightmares to life."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Please, if you know everything -" George egged.
"I do not, I simply strive to know everything I can." She would have left it at that, but the conversation was reminiscent of the ones she and Draco frequently had. She put a tamper on the jealousy she felt as she recalled the memory of him on Pansy's lap, she needed make up with him next. "An Age Line is created with Runes, Sigils, markings – something that doesn't always need a wand. Chances are, it would need to be taken down the same way – think of Golpalott's Second Law and apply it to other forms of magic. A poison's affects could be cured with an anecdote. A curse would need to be undone with a counter curse. The chances of getting past runes with a potion are slim to none."
"Ah, yes, you were right in thinking that you shouldn't put your name in the Goblet of Fire." Fred remarked. "Golpalott's Second and Third law have been debated on for decades on if they should be demoted to theories."
"We're counting on that and how 'pathetically dimwitted' it is, that getting past with an aging potion would be an oversight on Dumbledore's part." George finished. "You can either help, or prove us wrong yourself."
Hermione inhaled and held up a finger to say why she would not, but when would an opportunity to work with an age line that the great sorcerer Dumbledore had cast? She thought about the hours she had been pouring into her runes class despite her headaches and decided that she had to. "Shall we bet on it then? You try to get past the Age Line and when it is time for the Goblet to be removed, I can ask Dumbledore if I can make an attempt at removing it." Now Fred and George were the ones who were speechless.
"You really think you can do it, Hermione?" Harry asked.
"Of course she can, it's Hermione." Ron grinned at her and with his soft eyes looking at her intensely, she felt a blush on her cheeks as she remembered his crush on her.
When she looked up at the twins after their lack of a response, she caught them silently trying to communicate on if they should accept her proposal. When Fred caught her looking over at him, he gave her a smile that didn't seem to reach his eyes. "Sure. What are you wanting to wager?"
Hermione tapped a finger on her chin twice. "How much did you bet at the World Cup?"
Classes had been cancelled the next day, regardless of it being Monday. Hermione was sure it was done so the schools could mingle, especially under the watchful eye of Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman – both of which who were in attendance at the feast last night as they will be staying in Hogsmeade for the Tournament.
Hermione would have complained about missing out on her classes, but for once, she welcomed the respite from the regular Hogwarts routine, as she holed herself in her favourite library corner. Before her was the parchment she copied Dumbledore's Age Line on and around her were several books, at least two opened at all times.
Copying the Age Line was something that took several tries as the first two pieces of parchment burned to a crisp the second she completed more than a quarter of the Line. It was a clever way to ensure that students didn't try to attempt what she was doing, but she discovered that if she drew a slash through the Line every so often, the protective measure Dumbledore imbued would not activate, as it acted as if she wrote it down incorrectly.
Seeing that most of the school had woken up just as early as she to watch other students enter their names into the Goblet of Fire ensured the library would stay empty. This allowed her to work through most of the morning and afternoon without disruption – a welcome treat for her.
One of the first things she noticed in Dumbledore's clever work, was that he had not just used runes and sigils, but old Latin. She attacked the ancient language first. Hermione wasn't completely fluent in it like she was in French due to the fact she only used it in primary school – she could really only recite prayers aloud, and had to sometimes rely on contact clues when reading anything – but it still served to be the easiest part of the Age Line;
"Glory lies before you, while safety lies behind.
I have no way to see, but nothing escapes mine eyes.
This circle shant be broken, unless you've come of age.
Do not try to trick me, for I will respond with rage."
'A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic. It doesn't surprise me that Dumbledore might have attempted to incorporate it as a protective measure.' Hermione grinned as she remembered the puzzle Snape had set up in the dungeon that contained the Sorcerer's Stone in their first year. 'All I will need to do is add on my own conditions if I can't erase this part from the circle.'
The next thing she worked on was deciphering the runes. She started with ones she knew, keeping The Scores which Bring Life, the rune and sigil tome she split her brow open with, by her side. Even as she looked through the others, she kept it open as she felt a strange pull to it. When she first got to the library after Moody's imperious lesson, it was the first book she sought out. Now that she was even more attuned to the magic existing in the "empty" spaces her other senses had neglected to pick up on, she could see why Draco was surprised she hadn't felt the magic sooner. It was excessive, to say in the very least. Hermione's eyebrow seemed to twitch every time she looked at the tome, something that made her scratch it consistently as it brushed the edges of her curled fringe, but she greatly preferred the tickle to the migraines.
After she made her way through what she knew, she worked in consecutive order in which the runes were created, which was where she started to greatly slow down as Dumbledore amalgamated the more complex runes. At a single glance, one would have thought Dumbledore was simply mad with no clue what he was doing, but Hermione had more faith in him than that. She might have had to rotate the parchment several times, but she eventually discovered a pattern; Dumbledore would pair Elder Furthark with Younger Futhark, or Dalecalian Runes with Anglo-Saxon Runes. It all made sense if one had the habit of paying great attention to detail, and was aware of how many ways something could be changed when a dot, dash, or line was added or subtracted.
When all that were left were the sigils, she was elated to discover that Dumbledore opted for power over personalization. She had anticipated the sigils to be the most complicated, but instead of creating his own – rendering deciphering them in a day to be impossible - he had used the same ones she had spotted in ancient grimoires regarding ceremonial magic. Hermione would have to focus on her intent to over power the potent magic the sigils had built over decades and centuries, but she was more than happy to accept the challenge of tearing down the protective, calligraphic magic markings into what they really were – markings charged with intent.
"Protection, Warding, Time, Resistance... but what is this last one?" She ran the pad of her middle finger over the last sigil in the set she was working on.
She blinked as her eyes ached, and her vision blurred from working intensely for hours. Hermione decided to take what she considered to be a "break", which meant that she stopped reading and instead allowed herself to mull over the information she had absorbed to see if she could recall any unexplored paths in her research. 'I know many of the enchantments were repeated... just coiled around each other in such a way that forces someone to take down the entire circle, and not just one or two layers – quite similar to the maze at the Manor.' Hermione pouted when she thought of the Sphinx, missing the thrill she had being able to spend time with such a powerful creature. 'I ought to apologize to her too after the trouble I caused her when Lucius had Crewe apparate us from the maze. After I free Crewe, I'll just have to remember -'
Hermione had the urge to slap her own forehead. 'Remembrance! That's it!'
Hermione wanted to laugh at the irony as she furiously flipped through the book she had hit her head on before. 'I remember it now - I see that bloody symbol in my dreams every night! Oh, where is it -'
When she got to the page she was looking for, she let the book clatter to the desk. The sight of old, dried blood that was along the bottom of the page made her recoil. 'Oh, that's disgusting!' Her parents would have demanded the book be burned due to their fear of blood borne illnesses. Something she almost would have seen as a reasonable reaction, considering they were doctors. 'Whoever thought that was okay -'
"Come on, let's go!" A younger student whispered loudly by the aisle's opening. "I'd like to get there before they move the Goblet!"
Hermione gasped and peered out the window at the setting sun. She had gotten rid of the mirror she had once transfigured in a glass panel and could hold up her fingers over the horizon to count how much time was left until the sun set.
She was supposed to meet the twins at the Goblet half an hour ago.
"Oh no!" She grabbed the journal she was writing in, and stuffed any loose pieces of parchment into it. She looked at the book, contemplating if she had time to check it out, before deciding she didn't. withdrawing her wand form its holster, she tried to clean the blood off of the page, but she was unsuccessful. With a groan, she shoved the tome into her bag that Lucius enchanted and shuffled as fast as should could past Madam Pince, hoping her guilt at breaking a rule wasn't terribly noticeable.
Once she was past the library doors, she sprinted through the entrance hall and into the newly charmed, open chamber where Dumbledore stored the Goblet of Fire. It was a room without doors, but it did hold benches on each wall so students could comfortably loiter, cheering or booing anyone who put their name into the beautiful cerulean flames.
Lee Jordan was standing just outside of the Age Line and tipped his chin up in greeting when he saw her enter. He carefully walked along the edge of the Line, careful not to cross it, so he may meet her on the other side of the circle. "You're late. You missed a terribly good laugh with Fred and George."
"Aged a few years, didn't they?" Hermione dropped her bag on to the bench they were standing by and pulled out the borrowed tome. She opened it to the Sigil Remembrance again and she tried again to vanish the blood, but after several failed attempts, it occurred to her it wasn't going to be possible. If Draco couldn't heal the wound the heavy book caused when all she did was slam into it, the chances of her being able to cast a successful spell on it were slim to none. "Were you waiting for me in their place?" Hermione watched him carefully, hoping there was no animosity between them after she rudely commented on his hair.
From what she could see, there was only the friendly, umber, unofficial Weasley triplet before her. No trace of annoyance or enmity for her. "Yeah, I am. You know how they are about their bets." Lee gave a low whistle as he looked down at her work. His thumb stroked his chin as he deciphered her notes. He looked up at her. "The circle had them grow beards finer than Dumbledore's... You really think you can take it down?"
Hermione looked down at her work, running through the mental catalogue of everything she worked on in the past couple of hours. "I'm confident." Was her safe reply before she took the subject off of her again. "I'll have their money, they can collect from me at any time."
Jordan was taken aback. "What?"
"My bet was that they could not get past the Age Line. If they ended up getting close enough to the Goblet to grow beards, they got past it." Lee made a curious sound in the back of his throat as he watched her nonchalantly pick up her books and turned to face the circle. She inhaled a deep, calming breath though her nose and felt a smile creep on her face at the energy around her. She felt every atom of magic vibrating – more so than usual in the ancient castle. "Anyone we know put their name in yet?"
She opened one eye and looked over at him to find him grinning proudly from ear to ear, "Angelina. I think that's why Fred was so determined to enter himself."
"Well," She didn't want to admit it in front of Harry or Ron, but she actually liked the idea of having a Gryffindor Champion. She just wanted an of age Gryffindor Champion. "I'm glad someone from Gryffindor's entering. I hope she gets it."
"So do I. Apparently Warrington from Slytherin and Diggory from Hufflepuff also entered. I was helping brew the ageing potion so I missed everyone else from Hogwarts who might have entered, but I imagine all of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons did, too. There is no way the handful of students who arrived account for their entire upper classmen." Hermione nodded in agreement, although she did wonder about the young Beauxbatons student she saw. She looked as if she was only in her second year and was obviously not able to volunteer for the tournament. "Are you going to start now?"
"No." Hermione kept her smile on her face as she started to walk around the Age Line, double checking she had not missed anything. It was bad enough that she was probably going to have to take down one sigil on the fly. "I need permission from Dumbledore -"
"Permission from me?"
Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin hearing her Headmaster's voice behind her. "Yes, sir." Her voice caught in her throat for a moment as she realized he was accompanied by Madam Maxime and Professor Karkaroff. "I was – I have an interest in Ancient Runes, you see, and I was wondering if I could make an attempt at taking down the Age Line before the Goblet of Fire was moved."
Dumbledore's eyebrows slightly raised, causing his already wrinkled skin to pucker even more. It was an odd sight. While she knew Dumbledore's age, there was always a bit of spunk within him that tricked Hermione into forgetting it. "May I see your notes?"
"Of course, sir." Hermione felt her hands start to perspire. She carefully held out the books to Dumbledore, but he only picked up the journal she laid on top.
He took his time reading her scrawled notes. When he started to mumble the words 'curious' and 'interesting', she noticed that Maxime and Karkaroff leaned over his shoulder to see her work. "I was unaware there was a student at Hogwarts who might have been well versed in Latin."
"I went to St. Mary's in Hampstead, they thought it was important to know." She tried to keep her tone indifferent as, much to her chagrin, the skill had come in handy more than once in her small-time at Hogwarts.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with amusement, picking up on her hint that she wasn't too fond of the idea of what her former school thought was imperative to know. "When it is time, I will allow you three attempts to dismantle it."
Hermione took another deep breathe, the undertaking of what she asked to do becoming very real to her. "Thank you, Sir." Her own excitement started to buzz around her.
Hermione turned around to find that a substantial number of Hogwarts students were glancing in their direction, whispering amongst themselves. She shook her head and told herself to ignore the nosey parkers as she waited for Dumbledore to give her the go ahead.
After about five minutes, the crowd's diversity shifted a little. Some Durmstrang students were trickling in as some Hogwarts students left, likely to situate themselves in the Great Hall for the Champion drawing. Harry and Ron were nowhere to be seen, but that was expected, so she was left to search for a certain white blonde head. He was nowhere to be found either. She bitterly thought that he might have been letting Pansy play with his hair again in the dungeons, or worse, snogging -
"When you're ready, Miss Granger," Dumbledore waved a periwinkle clad arm at the gold, shimmering circle before them.
Immediately, she fell into the mindset she adopted when steeling herself to play her cello. She threw her shoulders back and carefully shifted her books before she pulled out her wand. Once it was pointed in the air, the room dissolved into a hush. Those who knew her were curious to see if she could actually take down something of Dumbledore's while those who didn't, watched her in disbelief that someone so young would even attempt such a thing.
Just like she had with her research, she started with rewriting the Latin:
"Glory lies within me, while safety is all around.
It will not matter what is seen, as you're welcomed all around.
This circle shant be broken, for I do not pose a threat."
Like a lie, she thought it was best to stick with altering rather than erasing the entire thing. Hermione's confidence built as the gold letters turned into an ethereal looking white before disappearing entirely.
The Runes gave her little resistance at all as she walked backwards around the entire circle, hissing a permanent Flagrate charm. She furiously glanced between her parchment and the circle, not noticing how students both moved out of her way, but also crowded around her as she worked. Soon, the affected markings shined with a white glow when she was done.
Last was the Sigils. It should have been the easiest for her as she was inspired to use a similar tactic that Dumbledore had. She was going to write in fresh sigils by lacing new markings over the old – changing the meaning entirely. It was a language of its own, but unlike Latin and Runes, she often did not need to conjugate it.
Often, meaning she shouldn't have had to.
Hermione noticed at once that some of the Sigils she had yet to touch had turned white before disappearing with the Sigils she worked on. She glanced up at Dumbledore to see his eyes shining with anticipation. It was beginning to dawn on her why he gave her three tries.
Taking advantage of the fact she was still on her first attempt, she paused and sought out Lee. "Could you hold this for me?" When he took the journal from her, she shifted The Scores Which Brings Life into her right arm as her left shoulder had started to ache. Holding her arm in her dominate hand once again, gave her the extra edge of reassurance she needed. She wasn't a stranger to performing in front of a crowd, but it had been a while. She wanted to be as comfortable as she could be if she was going to be dealt curve balls.
'Protection, Warding, Time, Resistance, Remembrance.' Her scarred eyebrow twitched again.
She walked around the circle once more, but did not lift her wand as she contemplated where to start. There was no clue that she could discern which sigil would be the circle's weakest point, although she knew that the last three sigil were really just reinforcements for Protection and Warding. She would need to take down those three first and, hopefully, Protection and Warding would fall on their own, much like a skyscraper collapsing in an earthquake.
That's it! It's just a simple structure. Hermione lifted her eyes from the ground to stare at the Goblet. If she relied less on her eyes and more on her magical core, she knew she would be able to see the magic swirling before them in a cone like fashion. The philosophy books she had been reading called it The Cone of Power. Something often found in circles. Amazing, if only -
"Mr. Filch, thank you for joining us. I am sure Miss Granger only needs a few more minutes before we can move the Goblet." Filch's grunt was the only reply Dumbledore received had as he glared at Hermione. He hated having to wait to do his job, especially if he had to wait on a student.
"Right," she said softly to herself. She had no time to appreciate what was before her. 'Cone of Power. In order for it to work, all points have to be on an equal standing. Any sigil would be a good starting point.' Pivoting on her heel, she approached the closest one to her - Remembrance. It was the one she expected to take the most time on since she had little research on it and thought it would be best to get it out of the way first.
As soon as she pointed her wand to it, her mind went blank. She glanced up in a disoriented manner and was surprised to see other's intense gaze on her. 'What am I doing taking down the Age Line? Why am I doing it? Did I have permission to?' The questions didn't stop until she put her wand away. Her memory rushed back to her in a single breath. She looked down at the sigil in her book. 'Oh.'
"I believe that would conclude your first attempt." Dumbledore had the tips of his fingers pressed together as he watched her. A murmur broke throughout the crowd.
'So each sigil is a protective measure in and of itself... Fascinating.' Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, internally having a moment. 'This... Is going to hurt, isn't it?' A part of her wanted to swear off Ancient Runes once the year was done, as she finally acknowledged the patterns she was being wrung through when it came to her dreams.
Hermione rolled her shoulders back as she decided to do what she was always meant to do, and face the problem head on. She spent enough time ignoring what was in front of her, wallowing in the pity of her trauma would only put off the inevitable.
This time, she kept her eyes on The Scores Which Brings Life in front of her when she raised her wand to the book, using the sigil on the page as an anchor. Her mind went blank once more, but her memories flooded back to her as soon as they had gone. She was right about the pain in her brow and had to grit her teeth from crying out. Her hand shook at first, but she clenched to stop the tremors. The raised Vinewood design on her wand cut into her lightly calloused flesh, but she drew strength from the sensation, allowing her to redraw over the sigil as she intended and break its hold on her.
With a sigh, the pain – and the marking – was gone. She put her sleeve to her brow and was relieved that there was no blood on it. That would have been embarrassing.
Hermione strode over Resistance. Once she raised her wand to it, she felt as if a bucket of self-doubt was dumped on her. Anxiety was pulled to the forefront of her mind and she found herself staring at the parchment in her hands. 'Everyone is going to laugh at me if I fail. Why did I agree to this in the first place? I shouldn't do this. I should just give up – I had already failed once.' Tears started to prickle in her ducts and she used that to snap her out of the negative thinking. She would be damned if she was anything but resilient. 'If I didn't bleed in front of everyone, I'm surely not going to cry.' She shoved past the fear the marking was amplifying with lips pressed together so hard, they were more white than the glow the sigil emitted before it vanished.
'Time.' She was apprehensive about what this one would do. Even if she was in possession of a Time-Turner for an entire academic year, she doubted she would ever be comfortable working time again. A worried thought about Sirius almost broke her determination, but she dismissed it before it could grip her.
Before approaching the remaining Sigil, she passed the book to Lee, who happily took it from her. There was excitement in the air as everyone watched her, impressed with how far she had come. Hermione even took the time to shake her hands as if she could shake off her nerves like water. She searched the crowd once more, but none of her best friends were there.
Instead, she was given comfort though Viktor Krum. He caught her eye and gave her an encouraging nod before motioning to the Age Line with an open palm. She didn't care to impress a celebrity, but if she delayed any longer, she was going to hold up all three schools, and dinner.
Before she could get the first part of the Flagrate incantation out, a timer appeared next to the Sigil, marking she had twenty seconds to disable the Age Line. Her eyebrows came together, suddenly worried that her tactic of rewriting it was not going to work.
It didn't. It was times like these where Hermione hated being right.
She tried once, twice, and when she was in the middle of rewriting it a third time, her time was up. Nothing happened for a few seconds before the Resistance sigil reappeared. Then the Remembrance sigil. Over the course of the next few seconds, the entire circle had reappeared in gold, as if she had not spent the last half an hour on it, leaving Hermione with her jaw on the floor.
As a mummer broke out amongst the students, Dumbledore withdrew his wand and nearly all of the markings disappeared except from Time. "Once more, Miss Granger." She nodded as she tried to push away how impressed she was that he did thirty minutes worth of work, with a single wand movement.
As her cheeks burned with a bit of humiliation, she silently accio'd her notes back to her. She was tempted to look over the book again, but she trusted that everything she needed was already in her hands. Hermione had yet to come across a problem she could not eventually solve, and with the pressure of an audience on her, she was driven to find a resolution.
When she was ready, she pointed her wand at the lone sigil, triggering the timer. This time, she ran through every sigil she had listed on the parchment she could try, and when that didn't work, she opted to try her own. Even with her putting all the intent she could, the timer still counted down. Her desperation pushed her to the point that she cast an Finite Incantatem, despite her knowing it would be inefficacious.
Before the Age Line was complete in its shiny, gold glory, Hermione had recollected her things and was flipping through The Scores Which Bring Life, determined to find her answer.
"That was most impressive. I doubt even an adult wizard would have got as far as you had in just one day." Dumbledore had joined her and Lee while the rest of the students started to file out with excited chatter. "Forty points to Gryffindor."
"Alright!" Lee exclaimed in excitement, but Hermione met Dumbledore's twinkling gaze with a frown. As validating as the praise was, she was left unsatisfied.
"Did you want me to show you how to resolve it?"
Hermione shook her head, glancing down at her book. "No, sir. I rather find the answer myself."
The ancient Headmaster smiled. "Very well."
"Dumbly-dore? I believe we are needed in ze Great Hall." Madam Maxime was the only one to approach them, but peering around her, Hermione saw that Professor Karkaroff, Barty Crouch, Ludo Bagman, and Viktor Krum were standing together, talking about what had just transpired.
"Thank you for the opportunity, Professor Dumbledore." Hermione ducked her head and continued to re-examine her work, pretending to be too preoccupied with where she had gone wrong.
She thought it was the oddest thing, but she found she couldn't look up and see how Krum reacted to her failing.
"I can't believe you studied the entirety of dinner."
Hermione chose not to acknowledge Ron's whinging this time. What else was she supposed to do? The last time her pride had been so wounded was when she choked on stage because of the Darling siblings.
"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," announced Dumbledore. Hermione had enough respect for him to close her book and put it away until she retuned to Gryffindor Tower. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" — he indicated the door that Hermione had been lectured in by McGonagall several weeks ago — "where they will be receiving their first instructions."
With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore put out every candle floating above them, except for the floating pumpkins that served as Halloween decorations. It provided the perfect Halloween atmosphere, so Hermione was not surprised that annoyance struck through her when she heard the Beauxbatons student's suck their teeth. She couldn't see them in the dim lighting when she glanced over her shoulder, but she could easily imagine them rolling their eyes. Hermione noticed that they seemed grimace or flinch at every nook and cranny of Hogwarts, as if they were leagues above the ancient structure.
Her attention was diverted back to where Dumbledore stood as the Goblet of Fire erupted with flames so red, the inner zone of the flame was the colour of an eggplant. It briefly vanished before reappearing again, and a piece of parchment, still alight on one side, fluttered into Dumbledore's waiting hand.
"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a voice that had to be amplified by a Sonorous, "will be Viktor Krum!"
"No surprises there!" Ron said as he jumped to his feet as the entire Hall erupted in to cheers. Hermione rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she joined everyone in applauding the burly Quidditch Star.
"Bravo, Viktor!" Karkaroff called over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"
The Goblet seemed to sense when the wizards were waiting on it to announce the next champion, because as soon as the crowd quieted, it shot out another singed parchment – this one blue.
"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"
The girl that Harry and Ron insisted the entirety of dinner last night that she was a Veela, shot to her feet, flipping her silvery blonde hair over her shoulder. Hermione amused herself with the thought of wondering if Lucius would have been jealous of how her sheet of hair looked. It seemed to be even more pin straight than his was, as if her hair never realized that fly-aways existed.
Her roar of applause wasn't as loud, and Hermione thought it was partially due to the fact that the other Beauxbatons students weren't cheering for her. In fact, some were bawling at the fact they had not been picked. Several of the Beauxbatons boys slammed their hats on to the table before glaring at Fleur who was already retreating into the side chamber.
This time when the students were ready for the next champion to be announced, the Great Hall didn't fall in to complete silence. Everyone – namely the Hogwarts students – were whispering to each other or bouncing a leg as their suspense built. All four houses seemed to be leaning forward for the last parchment to be spat out of the fire.
"Psst, Granger!" Hermione looked up to see Hedgeflower was sitting at the Hufflepuff table directly behind her. "I heard Johnson put her name in."
"She did." Hermione spotted Angelina bowing her head in silent prayer, hoping she would be picked. When she looked back at Hedgeflower, she could just make out an outline of a smirk on her face. "I heard Diggory did the same?"
"He did." The haughty tone was unmistakable.
"Well," Hermione wasn't going to take the bait when she had just been relieved from being attacked by her. "Good luck to him then."
There was a beat of silence between them and Hermione knew she caught the Hufflepuff off guard with her unruffled response. "Same to Johnson."
Their conversation was forgotten when the Goblet finally gave them what they wanted. Even the way Dumbledore plucked the parchment out of the air, tipped everyone off he was just as eager to find out who would be representing Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament.
He looked over to the Hufflepuff house – or was it Gryffindor? Hermione couldn't tell from where she sat. "The Hogwarts champion is... Cedric Diggory!"
The other schools had gave cheers and jeers – but Hogwarts students screamed. Namely, the Hufflepuffs. Some were standing on their seats, while others waved the hats they donned for the formal event. Some of the more rambunctious 'puffs were whipping their robes through the air.
Even when Dumbledore relit the candles and Cedric was secured in the chamber, the applause for Cedric took over an entire minute to die down. The Hufflepuff house was beyond ecstatic that they would be in the spotlight for once.
"Excellent!" Dumbledore used his hands to try and calm his students down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real —"
He was cut off by the Goblet of Fire that was now viciously sparking red again. There was no trace of the calm cerulean flames, only an angry crackling sound as - to everyone's astonishment – another piece of parchment appeared from the flames. Instead of floating into his waiting palm, it zoomed into Dumbledore's hand and there was no question in Hermione's mind he had used magic to do it.
When Dumbledore looked up his eyes were certainly fixed on the Gryffindor table and somehow, she was able to stop herself from feinting as the unexpected fourth champion's name was called out:
"Harry Potter."
