Author's Note: None of this belongs to me. This story is based on Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J.K. Rowling and will feature "offstage scenes" as well as scenes from the book reinterpreted from Hermione's point of view.
Hermione's 4th Year
Part 18: The Last Thing to Mend
by Elanor Gamgee
Hermione looked down her list. "I think that's everything, Harry, unless you want to try the Stunning Spell one last time."
"No, I think he's got that one, haven't you Harry?" interjected Ron quickly.
"Well, it can't hurt to practice it one more time..." said Hermione.
Ron folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. "Fine, then this time he can practice it on you."
Harry looked up from his wand, which he had been attempting to polish on his robes. "It's OK, I've got that one, I think," he said with a grin, looking between the two of them with something like amusement on his face.
It was the evening of June the twenty-third, and the three of them were once again in the common room, going over hexes for the third task. Hermione thought Harry seemed more relaxed than he had before either of the other tasks, and she privately thought he was also much more prepared for this one.
Hermione walked over and sat down across from the boys. "Are you nervous?" she asked Harry.
"Of course," he replied. "But at least I know what I'm up against this time, and I've gotten to practice, thanks to you two."
Ron grinned and punched Harry lightly on the shoulder. "Yeah, well, you'd better appreciate it. I don't envy anyone who comes up against your hexes. I'm still feeling that Impediment Jinx."
Hermione smiled. "We should probably go up to bed," she said, checking her watch. "We've got our History of Magic exam in the morning. Ron, I hope you studied enough."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Hermione. If I don't know it, I'll just make stuff up. It's all goblin rebellions anyway."
"Ron!" Hermione began, but Harry got to his feet and interrupted her.
"He's joking, Hermione."
Hermione wasn't so sure about that, but she let the subject drop. Bidding the boys goodnight, Hermione went up to her dormitory to go over her History of Magic notes one more time before going to sleep.
The next morning, the air in the Great Hall was practically crackling with anticipation, and all of the students seemed much more boisterous than usual. The last day of exams, combined with the third task of the Triwizard Tournament, seemed to put everyone into high spirits.
"Good morning," said Hermione as she sat down and poured herself a glass of pumpkin juice. She couldn't help but feel good this morning; perhaps the high spirits in the Great Hall were contagious. The enchanted ceiling showed a blue sky filled with puffy white clouds, Hermione felt completely ready for the two exams she had today, and she knew Harry was as prepared as possible for the third task.
Then Hermione caught sight of Ginny sitting a few seats down. She was looking anxious, and kept glancing in Harry's direction. Hermione remembered how worried Ginny had been during the first task, and made a mental note to find Ginny later to tell her how well-prepared Harry was for this one. She felt slightly guilty that she hadn't talked to Ginny much lately; she'd simply been too busy between helping Harry prepare for the task and studying for her own exams.
Hermione was distracted from this train of thought by the arrival of the morning post. A screech owl fluttered down and deposited her copy of the Daily Prophet on the table in front of her. Hermione took a sip of pumpkin juice and unfolded the paper. On the front page was a large picture of Harry under an enormous headline that read, "HARRY POTTER 'DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS'". Hermione spat out the pumpkin juice in shock.
"What?" said Harry and Ron at the same time, both staring at her as if she had lost her mind.
"Nothing," said Hermione, recovering quickly and trying to shove the paper under the table. Harry didn't need to see this today.
Ron was too quick for her, though. He reached down and grabbed the soggy paper out of her hand. His reaction to the headline was much the same as hers, only he didn't have anything in his mouth to spit out. "No way," he said, staring at the front page, "Not today. That old cow."
"What? Rita Skeeter again?" said Harry, sounding resigned.
"No," said Ron, trying to shove the paper under the table. Hermione gave him a withering look. If he had just let her do that in the first place...
"It's about me, isn't it?" continued Harry.
"No," said Ron again, trying, and failing, to sound believable. Hermione rolled her eyes. He was such a terrible liar.
At that moment, a shout rang out from the Slytherin table. "Hey, Potter! Potter! How's your head? You feeling all right? Sure you're not going to go berserk on us?" Draco Malfoy was holding a copy of the Daily Prophet and sneering in Harry's direction.
"Let me see it. Give it here," said Harry in a forceful tone. Ron gave it to him hesitantly and shared an uncomfortable look with Hermione. The two of them watched Harry carefully as he read the article. His jaw clenched as he read it, but when he finished, his reaction wasn't at all what Hermione would have expected.
"Gone off me a bit, hasn't she?" said Harry, almost merrily, looking up and folding the paper again. He seemed to be ignoring the laughter and mockery coming from the direction of the Slytherin table. Hermione smiled to herself as she saw Viktor giving Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle a disgusted look; they were making hideous faces in Harry's direction.
"How did she know your scar hurt in Divination?" said Ron angrily; he was looking at the article again. "There's no way she was there, there's no way she could've heard--"
"The window was open. I opened it to breathe," offered Harry.
"You were at the top of North Tower!" said Hermione, wondering if her two friends ever really thought through anything properly. "Your voice couldn't have carried all the way down to the grounds!"
"Well, you're the one who's supposed to be researching magical methods of bugging! You tell me how she did it!" retorted Harry, sounding defensive.
Hermione sighed in frustration. "I've been trying! But I..." A sudden picture flashed in Hermione's mind, of herself by the lake after the second task. What in the world? she thought, and tried to go on. "...but..." The Hermione in her mind was talking to Harry, then Viktor was saying something to her, and...she reached up and pulled something out of her hair. A beetle.
"Are you all right?" came Ron's voice, sounding very far away.
"Yes," replied Hermione vaguely. Realization dawned slowly, as the real Hermione reached up and ran her fingers through her hair again; she had hardly even realized she had done it a first time. She felt as though the noise and chatter in the Great Hall had been turned off, and her concentration was completely focused inward. She saw another scene in her mind's eye: Draco Malfoy standing outside under a tree, while Crabbe and Goyle kept watch. Malfoy held his hand to his mouth, as though using a walkie-talkie. Hermione looked down at her own hand, and brought it up to her mouth in the same way. And she understood. A beetle would have fit into his hand. Rita Skeeter is an Animagus.
"I've had an idea," Hermione said out loud, feeling like even her own voice was miles away. "I think I know...because then no one would be able to see...even Moody..." Hermione saw the Divination classroom in her mind. "...and she'd have been able to get onto the window-ledge...but she's not allowed...she's definitely not allowed..." Hermione snapped out of her reverie, and the sound in the Great Hall seemed to come flooding back. "I think we've got her! Just give me two seconds in the library--just to make sure!" She stood up quickly, grabbed her schoolbag, and fled from the table.
She barely heard Ron behind her. "Oi! We've got our History of Magic exam in ten minutes!"
Hermione didn't care. This was more important than any old exam. And besides, she thought as she dashed toward the library, this will only take a minute. She just needed to double-check the Ministry of Magic's Animagus register. She knew there had only been seven registered Animagi this century (she had looked it up last year for Transfiguration class), and she was almost positive she hadn't seen Rita Skeeter's name on that list. And even if she is on the list, thought Hermione with a smirk, I'm sure the Ministry would be quite interested in knowing how she's been using her powers.
Unfortunately, however, Ron wasn't the only one concerned about her missing her exam. When she pulled open the library doors, she ran into Madame Pince.
The vulture-like librarian looked down at her menacingly. "Aren't you supposed to be taking an examination right now, young lady?"
"Yes, but--" began Hermione breathlessly.
"Then go," said Madame Pince in her dusty voice.
"You don't understand," said Hermione desperately. "This is important! I--"
"I'm sure it is," said Madame Pince doubtfully. "And you can return after you finish your examination." She pushed Hermione toward the door and shut it behind her with a soft clang.
Hermione stood outside the doors for a moment, fuming. Then, looking at her watch, she realized she really would be late if she didn't hurry. Taking the stairs two at a time, Hermione dashed to the History of Magic classroom. She slid breathlessly into a seat next to Ron just as Professor Binns entered the room through the blackboard.
Ron was looking at her curiously. "What was so important?" he whispered.
Hermione tried to slow her breathing to its normal rate. "It's Rita Skeeter!" she hissed. "I don't know for sure yet, but I think I know how she's getting into the school. She's...I'll tell you later," she finished hastily, straightening in her seat as Professor Binns began handing out their exam papers.
Ron was still giving her an odd look, but Hermione ignored him as she stared down at her test. How on earth was she supposed to concentrate on the exam when she was only one fact-check away from being able to stop Rita Skeeter? Concentrate, she told herself sternly. It was fortunate that she knew this material forwards and backwards, because she felt as though she were on autopilot as she answered the pages of questions about various goblin rebellions.
The moment the bell rang, Hermione was out of her seat like a shot. She deposited her paper on Professor Binns' desk, called a hasty, "I'll see you down at lunch! I've got to go back to the library!" to Ron, and left the classroom.
This time, when she got to the library, Madame Pince was seated behind her desk. The librarian seemed about to say something, but Hermione breezed past her and headed straight for the section in the back, which contained copies of official Ministry of Magic publications. She found the Ministry of Magic Official Register of Animagi, a large, thin book, and pulled it from the shelf. She sat down in the middle of the aisle and opened it, holding her breath. She turned through the brittle pages until she reached the one that said "Twentieth Century" in loopy lettering at the top. She ran her finger down the page, where the names of various wizards and witches were listed along with their Animagus forms and markings. Andress, Montague....Forsythe, Perseus...Levine, Jennifer...McGonagall, Minerva...Perks, Margaret-Alyce...Shaughnessy, Aidan...Timms, Martin. Hermione grinned to herself. We've got her now, she thought.
Hermione put the book back in its place on the shelf and got to her feet. She had to find Ron and Harry and tell them about this, and she had to figure out exactly what she was going to do with this information.
Hermione was thinking about this question as she left the library and made her way down to the Great Hall for lunch. She must not have been looking where she was going, because she turned a corner and ran straight into Viktor Krum.
"Viktor!" she said in surprise, taking a step back.
"I'm sorry, Herm-own-ninny," said Viktor, bending to pick up her bag, which she had dropped. He handed it to her gently.
"Thanks," she said with a smile. She suddenly became aware of the two people standing behind Viktor.
Viktor followed her gaze, and seemed to become aware of them himself. "Er...my parents," he said, indicating them with one hand. "Nikolas and Anna Krum. Mother, Father, this is Her--"
"Hermione Granger," said Hermione quickly, before Viktor could mangle her name again. She shook his parents' hands, privately thinking that she could have easily placed these two people as Viktor's parents even if he had not introduced them. They were both tall and dark-haired, and his father had the same hooked nose that Viktor had.
Mrs. Krum smiled down at her, and Hermione could see the resemblance to Viktor's rare grin in her expression. "Viktor has told us about you," she said, her accent much thicker than her son's.
Hermione glanced quickly at Viktor, who was blushing slightly and giving his mother a surly look. She remembered guiltily how Viktor had wanted her to come to Bulgaria and meet his parents.
"Yes, well," said Hermione awkwardly, "Viktor and I have become good friends this year."
Viktor's mother and father shared a knowing look, and Hermione winced as she realized she had only made things worse. Viktor wasn't looking at her, but she could practically feel the embarrassment coming off of him in waves.
"I've got to go to lunch," said Hermione, trying to save the situation. "It was really nice meeting you."
"Ah, yes, they haff good food here," boomed Viktor's father. "Ve are just coming from eating. Viktor is showing us the suits of armor."
"Nikolas collects them," explained Mrs. Krum.
Hermione knew this; Viktor had told her all about his father's enormous collection during one of their talks in the library. It occurred to her that he had shared much more information about himself than she ever had.
"There are some really good ones on the third floor," said Hermione with a smile. She couldn't explain why, but she immediately liked Mr. and Mrs. Krum, despite the awkwardness of the situation. Mr. Krum nodded in an interested sort of way.
"Have a good lunch, dear," called Viktor's mother as Hermione moved toward the stairs.
"Thanks," said Hermione. She stopped near the top of the staircase, suddenly remembering something. "Good luck tonight, Viktor."
Viktor raised his head and met her eyes for a moment. The look he gave her was so intense, even for him, that Hermione felt as though she was pinned to the spot. Then he nodded, almost formally, and said, "Thank you." Then he looked away, and Hermione felt like she could move again.
"Well, bye," she called awkwardly, not sure what had just happened. As she made her way down the stairs, she could hear Viktor's mother talking to him in rapid Bulgarian. Viktor seemed to be answering her only in brief sentences.
The whole encounter had been so strange, and yet…and yet, Hermione suddenly found herself wondering what it would be like if she really was Viktor's girlfriend. What if she did go visit him in Bulgaria this summer? There was no doubt in her mind that Viktor really did care about her, and would treat her like she wanted to be treated. He had even told his parents about her. She had a sudden picture in her mind of Viktor and herself, holding hands as they watched the sun set over the mountains. Viktor leaned over to kiss her and…
Then Hermione entered the Great Hall, and remembered why she hadn't let Viktor kiss her in the first place. She could see the back of Ron's head, and wondered if he had the slightest idea what she felt. You know he doesn't, she told herself in disgust. Just leave it.
Hermione shook her head to clear it of such thoughts. She had more pressing things to think about, like what to do with her newfound knowledge about Rita Skeeter. She couldn't wait to tell Harry and Ron about her discovery.
However, as she approached the Gryffindor table, she noticed that there were more red heads than usual. Mrs. Weasley and Bill were sitting there with Fred, George, Ginny, Ron, and Harry. Of course, thought Hermione, the champions' families must have been invited for the third task. She was glad that Mrs. Weasley and Bill had come to see Harry; his own family would certainly never show up.
Hermione approached the table and took an empty seat next to Ron. Harry left off laughing at Fred's impression of Professor Binns when she sat down.
"Are you going to tell us--?" he began, but Hermione cut him off with a quick shake of her head. She wasn't entirely sure why, but she didn't want anyone but the three of them to know about Rita Skeeter's secret just yet. She wanted them to have a chance to discuss what to do about it. Also, after the tiny Easter egg Mrs. Weasley had sent her, Hermione wasn't too keen on bringing up anything that might remind her of the Witch Weekly article. Hermione glanced over at Mrs. Weasley with a smile, hoping for the best.
"Hello, Hermione," said Mrs. Weasley in a cold voice. The voice was so different from the warm tone Hermione was used to hearing from her that it was hard to believe it was the same person.
"Hello," said Hermione in a smaller voice than usual. Mrs. Weasley was looking at her with a disdainful expression, and Hermione had to look away. She saw Ginny giving her a sympathetic look from across the table, which surprised her a little. She would have thought that Ginny, of all people, would be annoyed about the implication that she was Harry's girlfriend. But Ginny knew better than to believe those lies, she supposed.
Harry must have noticed Hermione's discomfort, because he suddenly said, "Mrs. Weasley, you didn't believe that rubbish Rita Skeeter wrote in Witch Weekly, did you? Because Hermione's not my girlfriend."
Hermione shot him a grateful look. She noticed that Ron had not looked up during this entire exchange, having apparently become very interested in his stew.
"Oh! No—of course I didn't!" said Mrs. Weasley, giving Harry a fond look. "How was your exam this morning, dear?" she said, turning back to Hermione, her tone much warmer now.
Hermione smiled in relief. "Oh, it was fine, thanks. It's really just a matter of keeping all the different rebellions straight, and I've been studying them all year, so I think I did well."
"Well, hard work does pay off." Mrs. Weasley gave Ron a stern look, which he seemed to ignore.
After lunch, Hermione and Ron went to their Defense Against the Dark Arts exam. Hermione was surprised that Professor Moody had chosen to give them a written exam, instead of a practical one. However, she was sure she did well, even answering all of the extra credit questions, thanks to the hexes and curses she had learned while helping Harry prepare for the third task. As they left the classroom, Ron was chattering excitedly about how he had known every single answer. She took it that this was a new experience for him, and tried not to spoil it by suggesting that it might happen more often if he put as much energy into studying as he did into choosing Dungbombs or talking about Quidditch.
They went back to Gryffindor Tower to drop off their books. As Hermione was climbing the stairs to her dormitory, she saw Ginny coming down them with her friend Theresa.
"Ginny, can I talk to you for a minute?" she said, remembering her earlier resolve to calm Ginny's nerves as much as she could.
Ginny looked at her in surprise. "OK. Theresa, I'll meet you down in the common room." Ginny followed Hermione up to her dormitory, which Hermione was relieved to find empty.
"What's up?" asked Ginny, perching on the end of Hermione's bed.
Hermione put her bag down on top of her trunk. "I just wanted to tell you that Harry's going to be OK. He's really ready for this task, I think." Hermione didn't say anything about the fact that You-Know-Who was supposed to be after Harry; Ginny didn't need to hear that.
Ginny laughed. "I know. You three have been practicing day and night, I knew that was why."
Hermione looked closely at Ginny. "You just seemed so…worried at breakfast. I wanted to make sure you knew that he's ready this time."
Ginny blushed. "I know," she said quietly. "I can't help worrying about him sometimes…" She looked up quickly, taking a deep breath and drawing herself up. "But that's not important," she said briskly. "What I really want to know is, what is going on with a certain Bulgarian Quidditch star?" Ginny's eyes twinkled teasingly.
Hermione grimaced. "Nothing. We're just friends, that's all," she said.
Ginny pretended to pout, looking remarkably like Ron. "Well, how am I supposed to now that? We haven't gotten to talk in ages—you spend all your time with Ron and Harry."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You sound like Viktor," she muttered.
Ginny raised an eyebrow. "A-ha! So this is not a mutual 'just friends', is it?"
Hermione suddenly felt very uncomfortable talking about this, particularly with Ron's sister. "You know, Ron's waiting for me in the common room, and Theresa's waiting for you…we'd better get going."
Ginny looked at her oddly, but followed her out of the room and down the stairs nonetheless. Hermione was slightly annoyed to find that Ron and Theresa had started a game of Exploding Snap down in the common room. She watched them for a moment as they laughed over one of Theresa's cards, which had just exploded, taking three of Ron's with it. Hermione felt a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.
"There you are!" said Ron, spotting her. He got to his feet and handed Theresa the deck of cards absently. "What took you so long?"
"Just talking to Ginny," replied Hermione quickly. "Come on, we'd better get down to the feast."
At dinner, Bill and Mrs. Weasley entertained them all by detailing all the ways in which the castle had changed since their schooldays (they had spent the afternoon touring it with Harry). The atmosphere was festive, and the students' relief at the end of exams was almost palpable. The feast had so many courses that Hermione lost count, and she couldn't help wondering how much more work this meant for the House-Elves.
This thought was pushed aside, however, as she noticed how Harry was picking at his food. She could see that his nerves were finally catching up with him. Ron, too, seemed to have grown anxious, though she doubted any amount of nerves would prevent him from eating. Toward the end of the meal, the three of them grew increasingly quiet, and Hermione wondered how the others could find so much to say with the third task so close at hand.
Finally, Professor Dumbledore rose and asked the champions to proceed to the stadium. As Harry stood, everyone at the Gryffindor table began to applaud. They all wished him good luck as he followed the other champions out of the hall. Hermione was struck once more by how small he looked next to Viktor, Cedric, and Fleur.
A few minutes later, Professor Dumbledore rose again. "Ladies and gentlemen, it is now time to begin making your way to the stadium for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament!"
There was an enormous clatter in the Great Hall as chairs were pushed back and people began talking loudly. Hermione and the Weasleys made their way through the crowd easily; Bill seemed to inspire awe in many of the students, with his dragon-leather boots and fang earring.
Fred and George led the way to the Quidditch pitch, then abandoned their family to sit a few rows away with Lee Jordan. Hermione noticed that Angelina Johnson dragged Katie Bell over to sit with the twins as well.
As Hermione, Ron, Mrs. Weasley and Bill settled into their seats halfway up the stands, Ginny and Theresa turned up and sat in the row behind them.
"I hope Harry does well," said Mrs. Weasley.
"He might actually win this," said Bill. "He's got a good chance, I'd say."
"Of course he has!" said Ron. "You should have seen him fight that Horntail. It was spectacular. Of course, I knew all along he'd make it—"
Hermione remembered Ron's ashen face during the first task and gave him a look. Catching sight of it, he fell silent.
Hermione scanned the crowds below to see if anyone from the Daily Prophet was covering the story. Sure enough, she soon caught sight of the lurid green robes and shellacked blonde curls that could only belong to Rita Skeeter. She nudged Ron sharply in the ribs.
"Ouch!" he cried. "Hermione, what—"
Hermione nodded in the direction of the detestable reporter. Ron saw Rita and narrowed his eyes. "Oh, wonderful," he said sarcastically. "Like a bad penny, that one is."
Hermione nodded. "Always turns up to find terrible things to say about people. But I've got her number now," Hermione added softly.
Ron looked at her quickly. "That's right! What did you find out?"
Hermione glanced over at Mrs. Weasley and Bill and shook her head. "I'll tell you later." She was beginning to think the best plan might be to take her new information to Professor Dumbledore; after all, she wasn't entirely sure anyone at the Ministry would believe her, Ron, or Harry. But she wanted to discuss this with her friends first.
Ron looked annoyed, but fell silent as Ludo Bagman began to welcome the crowd and introduce the champions. When he announced Cedric and Harry, the crowd cheered wildly. Then he announced Viktor, and Hermione clapped loudly, earning herself a raised eyebrow from Mrs. Weasley and a dirty look from Ron. Both were distracted as Harry waved up at them from below, and they hurried to wave back.
"So…on my whistle, Harry and Cedric! Three—two—one—" Mr. Bagman's whistle rang out, and Hermione saw Harry and Cedric enter the maze. Hermione couldn't see anything inside the maze except darkness. Then suddenly two small flickers of light appeared, and moved along the insides of the maze.
"They must have lit their wands," she muttered. She glanced back over at the entrance to the maze, and saw Viktor standing near it, looking up at the stands. He seemed to be searching for someone—for her, she realized, as he looked straight at her and raised his hand briefly. Hermione felt herself flush scarlet as she quickly waved back; people in the lower rows were turning around in their seats to see who Viktor had waved to. She could feel Ron's disapproval, even though he was very carefully not looking at her.
Mr. Bagman's whistle rang out again. "Mr. Krum, enter the maze, please!"
Viktor turned purposefully and strode into the maze. Hermione watched as a third flicker of light appeared inside it. She wondered what it was like in there, and if it was as dark inside the thick hedges as it appeared to be from the stands.
Mr. Bagman blew his whistle again. "Miss Delacour, you may enter the maze!" he called.
Fleur tossed her hair over her shoulder and walked into the maze.
Ron blew out a breath. "They're all in now."
Hermione nodded. The crowd around them was chattering constantly, but Hermione couldn't seem to find anything to say. It was impossible to tell what was going on inside the maze, but bursts of light and fire appeared at intervals at different points, allowing them to at least figure out where the champions were.
"This is boring," said Ron finally. "We can't even see anything."
"If you think this is boring," said Fred, who had just climbed into the row behind them, "you should have been there to watch the second task. Just staring at the lake for an hour—whose idea was that?"
"Yeah, at least with the dragons there was something exciting to see," said George, squeezing in between Fred and Ginny.
"You were awake for it at least," snorted Ron.
"Oh, so now you're admitting you were asleep through the whole thing, are you?" said Hermione; she couldn't resist.
Ron seemed about to say something rude in reply when a piercing scream came from the maze. "What was that?"
Hermione turned in time to see a shower of red sparks erupt from one end of the maze. All around them, people were talking loudly and standing up in their seats to try to see what was going on. A few minutes later, Hermione saw Hagrid come around the side of the thick hedges, carrying a limp Fleur Delacour. Professor Flitwick was hurrying beside him. Madame Maxime detached herself from the judges and hurried over to them, as did a blonde figure that Hermione recognized as Fleur's mother. The crowd hushed as Hagrid placed Fleur gently on the ground and Professor Flitwick pointed his wand at her chest. Fleur stirred slightly and sat up, a sigh of relief rippling through the crowd.
Another eruption of light came from the far end of the maze, drawing Hermione's attention away. She was beginning to get a very bad feeling, and, by the way Ron was chewing his lip, she could tell that he felt it too. She wanted this whole stupid Tournament to be over with as quickly as possible.
A few minutes later, another sound came from the maze—a series of horrified yells that sounded like someone in great pain. The crowd grew quiet again, and Hermione saw several of the teachers running around the sides of the hedges. Then red sparks arose from a point near the middle of the maze on the far side, and Hermione wondered which one of the champions it was this time. What had caused those anguished shouts of pain?
Again, Hagrid carried an unconscious champion from the maze, but the dark hair that Hermione could see over Hagrid's shoulder wasn't enough of a clue to the champion's identity. "Who is it?" said Ron anxiously, craning his neck. "It's not Harry, is it?"
Then Hagrid turned, and Hermione could see the boy's red robes as Hagrid set him on the ground. "It's Viktor," she said quietly, staring down at the scene below. She felt part worried for Viktor, part relieved that it wasn't Harry, and part guilty for both of these other feelings.
Viktor's parents were hurrying over as Madame Pomfrey bent over him. Hermione sighed in relief when Viktor stood up and made his way over to a bench with his parents. She could feel Ron looking sideways at her, and she fervently hoped he wouldn't say anything. For once, he didn't, though she could still feel him watching her. She steadfastly refused to meet his eyes.
Time seemed to drag on ever more slowly. Hermione checked her watch and realized that Harry had now been in the maze for over an hour and a half.
"Do y'reckon he's all right?" said Ron quietly.
"I hope so," said Hermione, just as quietly. "There haven't been any lights for awhile."
"I know," replied Ron, sounding really worried now. "I can't even see their wandlight anymore."
Hermione realized that he was right. Biting her lip, she moved her eyes over the maze, searching for even the smallest flicker of light, but saw nothing.
"Something's wrong," Ron said suddenly, giving a start. "Can't you feel it?"
Hermione nodded. "Come on," said Ron, pulling her to her feet.
"Where do you think you're going?" said Mrs. Weasley behind them, but neither of them answered as they headed quickly down the steps of the stadium. A distant part of Hermione's mind realized that Ron was still grasping her hand tightly, but their joint concern for Harry overrode any embarrassment this normally would have caused.
As they reached the bottom of the steps, there was a sudden flash of light near the entrance to the maze, and Hermione just made out two prone figures on the ground there before the teachers and judges ran to them, blocking her view. The crowd erupted into shouts and screams, and people began pushing toward the Quidditch pitch. Hermione felt someone shoving her from behind and snapped back to reality. They had to get to Harry. Ron was pulling her along, and Hermione struggled to keep hold of his hand; it was the only thing keeping the crowd from closing in on her.
A shout in the night stopped her in her tracks. "He's dead!" a woman in front of her screamed. Hermione froze, staring at Ron, who looked like he was going to be sick. Then another shout: "Cedric Diggory is dead!" Hermione felt a wave of guilt at the relief this brought, and knew from the look on Ron's face that he felt the same way.
"Come on," he said, his face stark white. "We've got to find Harry."
Hermione felt as if she was not quite in phase with reality as she pushed her way through the crowd. Surely this wasn't happening. She would wake up in a few moments and find out this was all a dream, that the Triwizard Tournament had been over for weeks and everyone had survived it just fine. Hermione tried to focus on that thought, rather than the screaming and crying of the crowd around her.
Suddenly, Ron, who had pushed his way out of the crowd ahead of her, stopped short. He turned, and Hermione could see Mr. and Mrs. Diggory sobbing over Cedric's body.
"He's not here," said Ron tautly, now catching both of her hands in his. "Where is Harry?"