The next morning, Hermione had woken up at the same time everyone else was. She eagerly slipped on her jeans, sweater, and Hogwarts robes, hoping to be first to leave the dorm. She left the sunlight-drenched dorm at ten'o'clock, and saw Harry waiting in the Hogwarts resting area, polishing his Firebolt with the polish Hermione recognized as the polish she herself had given to him as a birthday gift two years ago. He smiled at her as she sat down on one of the many squashy chairs, warming her down to her toes.
"Where's Ron?" she asked him, cursing herself for sounding so lame, "He isn't sleeping still, is he?"
"Wow, I thought you hated Divination, Hermione," he said sarcastically, "'cause you just predicted what Ron was doing at this very moment!"
He was smiling at her in a way a brother would to a sister. Hermione couldn't help but smile back, even though she voiced her anger.
"I swear," she said, her face twisting into a strange, lopsided frown, "He could sleep during a World Champion Quidditch match!"
"Whoa," gasped Harry, "Lets not go that far!"
Hermione giggled, and lightly punched his shoulder, with him looking at her like she grew an extra head.
"What's up with you today?" she asked him lightly, "Yesterday you were a lump."
"Just happy, I guess," he replied, as he finished his polishing. He wrapped the rag he was using around the jar of polish and set it beside him, "And I couldn't hear Ron snore as much this time. He sounds like a bloody foghorn…"
He sat at the edge of the seat, holding his Firebolt at arms length in front of him and stared at it adoringly.
"Did you polish it enough?" Hermione asked menacingly, "I think you could slip off if you fly it."
"I can see myself in it," he said tearfully, "I look strange…"
"That's because you are strange, Harry," said Ron sleepily, climbing down from the boys dorms in his Hogwarts robes, "And what's the deal not waking me up, man?"
"You give him grief if you wake him up, and now you're giving him grief for not waking him up?" said Hermione, "Shame!"
"Shut up, you," said Ron, but he was grinning, "And I'm hungry. Lets go to the hall for some grub."
They set off down the twisted corridors to the Grand Hall. Approaching the giant doors with the sound of many droning voices behind it. They walked inside.
Today, the Grand Hall looked different then last night. For one, the enormous room was flooded with beams of light coming from the windows high above them, and another, there weren't as many students inside. Harry Ron and Hermione sat down at the Hogwarts table with Seamus and Dean.
"D'you think you'll get any beef on the task today?" Seamus asked Harry immediately after they sat down and helped themselves to eggs and toast. Hermione glanced at Harry to see his reaction, but he looked as if he didn't mind at all.
"Dunno, maybe," he said through a sizeable chunk of toast, "I reckon they'll say something about it today," he swallowed, "I'd rather keep my mind off it for now."
"You'll hear about it today, Harry," came a soft voice from behind them. Harry, Ron and Hermione turned around to see who spoke. Ron dropped his goblet with a clatter- it was Marindernia.
"I haven't been told anything about it either," she said, her purple eyes fixed unswervingly on Harry's, "Professor Slaton is supposed to inform us on the first task before the feast tonight or something. Will you be there?"
"Er… yeah… where'd you hear this?" asked Harry interestedly, not looking as stupid as Ron did at the moment (Hermione swore she could see an appearance of drool at the corners of his open mouth.)
"My headmistress, Professor Kohl, told me earlier," Marindernia answered, blinking. Ron made some sort of moaning sound. Harry nodded.
"Hey, do you look different then last year?" Marindernia asked, as though she were resisting the urge to ask, and Harry looked at her, rather startled, "I don't mean to be boorish or anything… but I heard a few of the girls in my house chatting, and… I hadn't seen you in the newspapers because you were constantly fighting to get out to view."
She smiled harmoniously at the last part. Hermione glowered.
"He's changed," she murmured, "He had glasses."
"And who might you be?"
"Hermione Granger."
"Herm-ine-one, is it?"
"Herm-ione," said Harry defensively, as his smile faded, and Hermione found herself wanting to smirk in delight.
"I see," said Marindernia, tossing her long hair swiftly over her shoulder, "Well, see you tomorrow, Harry. And by the way… I personally think you look better without glasses."
With that, she glided away, meeting up with a group of her girlish associates, and headed down the nearest corridor. Ron, who had been watching his fate with misty eyes shouted, "NOOOOOO!" when she disappeared.
"Honestly, Ron" said Hermione, yanking on his robes to get him to sit, "She's just a girl."
"Nuh-uh… she's an angel," Ron sighed happily, resting his elbow on the table, and his eyes misting over again.
"Hermione's a girl," said Harry, who had long ago returned to his eggs, "and you don't go all googly-eyed over her."
"Wha- Hermione's a girl?" said Ron, "You're thinking weird, Harry. I wouldn't go for her, and you know it."
"Thank goodness for that," said Hermione vehemently, "I was beginning to think I'd have to give you a full body bind and…"
She came to a halt, and they both quailed under Harry's annoyed gaze. He picked up his Firebolt from beside him.
"Let's go outside to the pitch," he said, getting up, "It'll keep you to from bickering like an old married couple."
They left the Grand hall, and out the giant doors. Hermione was beginning to think that Harry's good mood wasn't going to last long. Ron had stayed quiet on the way to the pitch, something Hermione was longing to hear from him- silence.
They trudged down a slopping stone walkway and emerged in a clearing; a very wide and spacious clearing that could only be the Quidditch pitch.
"Wow," moaned Harry, tilting his head to the heavens to survey the many turrets all around the pitch, each topped off with a green flag. Like at the Hogwart's pitch, there were three giant gold hoops at each end of the green field and stands surrounding the edge- but they hovered in mid air. They walked to the middle, all three of them staring around in awe.
"It's like the World Cup," said Ron, "without the vendors."
Harry didn't spend another minute examining the pitch. He eagerly climbed onto his Firebolt, and took off with an uproar of wind that blew Hermione's bushy hair skywards. He took a few laps around the pitch as he left Ron and Hermione to watch.
"Oy, Harry, let me have a bloody turn already!" yelled Ron, failing his arms wildly. It was then when Hermione realized something- Harry was back in his own little world. Where the wind whipped through his hair and the air was clean of din. She understood how imperative it was to keep Ron from flying on Harry's broom; Harry could get back in his good mood.
"Hey! Potter!"
A voice Hermione had never heard before floated over the pitch, and apparently, Harry never heard of it either. He came to a halt in mid air about fifty feet above them.
"You are Harry Potter, aren't you?"
Hermione looked behind her and saw none other than Tisroc Whin, in his burgundy brown robes and carrying a broomstick. Harry had landed on the ground and climbed off his Firebolt already.
"Er… hello," said Harry awkwardly, "You're Tisroc, right?"
"At your service," said Whin, offering his hand which Harry shook, his eyebrows raised in suspicion, "And who may they be? Members of your fan club?"
Hermione turned redder then Harry had at that moment. Members of a fan club?
"No, they are Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, my friends," said Harry crossly, "And I don't have a fan club."
"Oh," said Whin, waving his hand in a passive manor, "Well, you're good on a broom. Play Quidditch? I do. I'm a chaser for my house, Zomalarth. I've heard you're the youngest player at Hogwarts in a century."
Ron was steaming in anger, but that wasn't close to what Harry looked like. He was, well, going to erupt.
"Yes," he said in a strained voice as his hands trembled, "I play Quidditch. Seeker."
"Ah, yes. The seeker of Hogwarts," said Tisroc in an incredibly spurious voice, his long hair blowing in the wind, "The most knotty position. Why, I remember my father telling me about your father-" Harry was glowering dangerously now, "-being the finest chaser in England. My, how the tables have turned. I've beaten your father's record, you know. He played Dryconderoga once, and Hogwarts won by so many points. But that was seventeen years ago. Plenty of room for improvement, as I always say."
"You-know-nothing-about-my-father," said Harry slowly, pointing a long, shaking finger at Whin, who looked slightly nervous, "Whatever record you set is what I don't care about."
With a dark look that Hermione had seen rarely in Harry's eyes, he mounted his broom again, and kicked off. Ron and Hermione couldn't do anything for the wind he created had stopped them. Harry was long gone in the direction of the castle. Ron turned sharply to Whin.
"Exactly who do you think you are?" demanded Hermione angrily, "He's representing our school, you know. Just because you're competing against him doesn't been you have to be so cruel! He's been through a lot lately!"
Whin stared at her for a moment, and Hermione found herself wishing she hadn't said anything at all. He blinked, and quite evidently, a horrible sneer appeared on his pale face. He reached inside his robes for his wand.
"Hey!" shouted Ron, stepping between him and Hermione with his wand out which was pointed at Whin, "Don't you dare, you creep! Stay away from us, or I'll deck the floor with you!" he turned to Hermione, "Lets go find Harry."
And they marched away from where they came, leaving the vindictive face of Tisroc behind with he broomstick. They didn't talk until they had come out into the clearing.
"So much for giving Harry's Firebolt for a test drive," said Ron bitterly, "And what was with that bloke?"
Hermione shook her head in frustration as she opened the door to the Grand hall.
"He's horrible," she said, "I hope Harry beats him at the first task."
Being almost noon, they soon found that every Dryconderoga, Nockdernia and Hogwarts students were feasting on the platters of food that looked like they had just swooped into the hall, but, just as Hermione suspected, Harry wasn't one of them. Maybe this could be an opportunity.
"I'll go find Harry," said Hermione quietly, "You can go to the feast. I'm not hungry."
Ron glanced at her, shrugged his shoulders with an "it's your loss," and joined Dean and Seamus at the Hogwarts table. Hermione unwaveringly headed for the boy dorms; Harry was bound to be there, if not anywhere else. She had to find out a few things, and she knew just how to do it. Harry and her needed to be alone with no interruptions and certainly no Ron. Maybe with a stroke of luck, Harry might let out a few things. Hermione vowed not to tell anyone anything if he were to ask her not to. After all, Harry had never done that to her. But for her reason, Hermione knew things needed to be set straight and laid on the line. She wouldn't back out, even if Harry was outraged and decided to dangle her from the tower by her ankles. It was time to ask Harry a few well-chosen questions.
…~'*'~…
A/N: The next chapter is what you have all been waiting for! Harry's secret! (no, it doesn't involve contact lenses, which kills me with laughter because Harry couldn't possibly get them with he being a genuine wizard!) Hey, Marendenia and Tisroc don't seem nice, huh? One of them might change their attitudes in the next chapter, but I'm not sure. I know I said there would be the Strength task this chapter, but sorry. Next chapter, I promise!