Mariel4000: I know Ron's acting like an asshole… just the way I want him to be! I really hate him though… almost as much as Malfoy :::ewww::: I hope this chapter clears it all up for you!

Gia: Look in your inbox ^_^;

Sassy: Hey, I just read one of your fics, but I can't remember which one. But anyways, I'm glad you don't want fluff in this fic. And yes, without glasses… HARRY'S A HOTTIE! :::ahem:::

NAPPA: I already told you when I updated, but it must be Thursday in New Zealand if it's Friday where I live, or something 0_o;

Lunarian: Well… there isn't exactly Fluer/Ron in this fic, but there is something similar… that's all I'm saying.

…~'*'~…

It was a very busy beginning of the weekend. Professors rushed down the corridor short of time in search of their students; the portraits lining the staircases and doorways were whispering behind their hands; people dressed up as if it were a very important occasion. Nearly every seat in the Grand Hall was taken the next day and no such room in the castle was quite as loud as this one. The reason? Today was the day the First Task would take place.

            Hermione woke up to this turmoil, revived and agitated. With her Hogwarts robes on and her hair reasonably tamed, she came down to the Grand Hall, and once she managed to find the Hogwarts table through the packs of neon green, black and burgundy brown, sat down with Ron. Harry was nowhere in sight, which was somewhat heartening to Hermione. She pretended to be curious to where he was.

"Where's Harry?" she asked Ron as she picked up her fork, but didn't eat, "Shouldn't he be here before the task?"

Ron swallowed the bit of eggs in his mouth, and said, "Yes, but this tournament is different. It's not at Hogwarts, so the rules changed around."
            He looked somewhat tense. At first, Hermione thought it was with the anxiety about Harry, but then she realized he didn't worry much last year. At that moment, Lee Jordan taped him on the shoulder to ask where Harry had gotten to. Ron, not realizing whom it was, jumped up and said, "Well, Harry's here, so I'll go." Lee walked off, staring at Ron like he had grown another head.

"Er, Ron, that wasn't Harry," said Hermione with raised eyebrows, "What's up?"

Ron looked apprehensive.

"Well, if you're begging so much, I'll tell you," he blurted, looking very nervous "Look, Hermione. I haven't done this before, so keep your mouth shut," Hermione frowned, "I'm sorry I've been so mean to you, and everything. I've been acting stupid."

Hermione stared. Ron just apologized… to her… without Harry egging him on.

"Really Ron?" she asked. Ron nodded grimly, a look of disgust crossing his face, "Thanks, Ron. That makes me feel better," he went wide-eyed, "Maybe you should apologize more often. You're really good at it."

"No," said Ron tensely, "I'd die if I had to do it again. It was hard enough the first time! Isn't that enough?"

Hermione smiled, and laughed.

"That's fine, Ron."

Sometimes he can be such a dolt, Hermione thought.

"What's fine?"

Hermione's breath caught in her throat and she felt color rush to her cheeks. No doubt, Harry was behind them.

"Ah, nothing," said Ron excitedly, his mood changing entirely, "What's up? How are you felling? Nervous? When's the task?"

Harry, much to Hermione's discontent and relief all at once, he sat next to Ron. His face looked very ashen and his robes looked as though they were put on in the dark. 

"Harry, are you sick or something?" asked Hermione suspiciously, "You can't do the task if you caught pneumonia."

"No, I'm fine," said Harry in a slapdash fashion, "Just tired a bit… and I just came by to see you before I go."

It was then when Ron and Hermione noticed that the students from all three schools were exiting through the door that led to the grounds. A few Gryffindors waved to Harry in good luck.

"I have to go get ready."

Hermione stood up. She showed no emotion in her face. She just sighed, walked up to him and wrapped him into a tight hug, not for too long and not to quickly. Harry stared at her as she let go.

Hermione sighed again, her face pointing to the ground, and sniffed, "Good luck, Harry."

Then she walked away into the crowd of students getting out of the Grand Hall. Luckily, Ron didn't follow right away… if he saw the blush in her cheeks, who knows what he would have done!  He bid good luck to a still stumped Harry, and followed, elbowing his way to her.

"What was that all about?" he asked Hermione in interest, "If you're going to get all mushy and emotional, warn me next time, okay?"

He shut up once he noticed her red and tear streaked face. Perhaps he knew what she felt- worry and regret

"He'll be okay, Hermione," said Ron assertively, "He'll do okay, you said so yourself! What's all this about?" he let out a shuddering gasp at that moment, his hand pressed against his mouth. It looked as though he was suddenly rammed by one of Hagrid's blasted-end Skrewts, "OH! I get it! A little lovey dovely, I bet, eh?"

Hermione glared at him in annoyance. It was enough for Ron to know what was happening, but why must he act like such an idiot over it?

"Ron," said Hermione in a threatening way, "If you breathe a word- if you tell a soul-"

"I won't tell. I swear over my own grave. You can burry me alive if I tell. I swear," he sneered, "But you should."

Hermione nearly tripped and fell when her foot caught a rock as they headed down the slop to the lake. Ron laughed as he heaved her back up.

"I-I should what?" Hermione asked him, though knowing the answer, but she wasn't going to let him know that.

"Tell him what you feel! You know, a quiet spot with nobody around," Hermione longed to smack that stupid smirk off his stupid face, "I bet he bloody well likes you too-"

"Ron!" Hermione cried in false frustration, "He would not! He's got enough things on his mind with the tournament and all. He wouldn't like me anyways… h-he just wouldn't."

"You can't think of a reason why not, huh?" said Ron sincerely, "You never know."

They had reached the edge of the Lake, opposite to where Hermione was nearly eaten by the giant squid. Though, it looked much different. There were now stands by the hundreds lining the edge of the water, for one, and the water looked very violent. The seats were nearly filled with excited students already. In the stands closest to the shore was a booth- inside were Professors Kohl, Siamoen and Dumbledore, all looking tentatively at the ground. Hermione felt as if a heavy weight had released from her shoulders. There was simply no way anyone would attack Harry, Voldemort or not. Then she realized how funny it sounded to be afraid if the shadow of the person they saw on the beach last night would attack Harry.

"Where's Harry?" said Ron to Hermione as they and others walked to the stands, "He better not be late. Remember last year?" he grinned, "Funny, he had to swim then too."

Hermione looked around as she walked, careful not to trip. It seemed every school had their own set of stands- one was full of students with colourful robes, one burgundy brown and another, obviously the Hogwart's stands, black. The only person on the shoreline was a man decked in gold and a whistle hanging around his neck. Ron and Hermione found a seat in the middle of the Hogwart's stands with Neville, Seamus and Dean, who were searching the shoreline, most likely for the champions.

"There he is!" shouted Lee Jordan from above, "At the lake!"

Hermione looked around, and so did everyone else. Sure enough, and the starting point of the beach, Harry was walking towards them, wearing nothing but the jeans he cut up last night for swimming trunks. With him were Marindernia, who was wearing a vivid pink bathing suit, and Whin, looking differently bright with his floral swimming trunks. They came to a halt next to the man in gold. If Harry was pale from nervousness, Hermione was to far away to tell.

The stands were particularly silent now. The only noise was the crashing of waves hitting the rocks a far ways off. Hermione watched as the man in gold nodded to the Champions, turned his head to the stands and raised a hand into the air. The next moment, his voice was heard a hundred times louder than normal.

"The Champions are ready!"

The stands roared in applause as Harry, Marindernia and Whin took their places at the very edge of the water, their feet just touching the waves that washed up onto the shore. They each got down and ready, as if they were running a marathon. Dumbledore, Kohl and Siamoen leaned over the booth to watch.

"No time limit," proclaimed the man in gold, "Points are given to the fastest Champion and are minimized pending on the time. The task- to swim to the shore on the other side of the lake, and back."

Those who didn't know what the task involved looked slightly scandalized. Most were staring in awe at the man in front.

"Magic is not permitted under any circumstances. If otherwise, the champion will be disqualified. The most points awarded is the student in the lead," he took a deep breath, "Let the Task of Strength begin!"

The stands exploded in applause and the man in gold walked to the stands and sat beneath the booth holding the headmasters and headmistress. The champions looked ready; the students watched the ground with wide eyes. And then, a whistle was blown.

With a roar of ovation, the champions were off. Harry, Marindernia and Whin all ran, full speed at the vicious lake. It was then, at that moment, when Hermione realized something- Harry could easily do this. Every Hogwart's student eyes were on this powerful, stalwart boy who everyone once thought was a withered runt. Hermione had no idea Harry could reach this level of superiority, and by the sounds of the constant murmur in the stands, nobody else did either. Harry was suddenly separated from his juvenile, little kid behavior and runty, fragile appearance. Hermione was amazed how long it took for her to realize it. 

Harry's long legs jumped around and over the waves, and when he could no longer dodge their powerful blows, he dived. Soon after, Marindernia and Whin did the same. Hermione faintly leaned back in her seat. Maybe Harry was going to win.

"Well, there goes Harry's reputation," said Ron with his mouth barely moving to form the words he spoke, being that his eyes were fixed to where Harry should have been under the water, "His bad one, I mean. Look at him go!"

Harry, now just a small dot in the middle of the lake, shot out of the water to come up for air. He started swimming as hard as he could, both his arms thrashing about in circles. Marindernia and Whin both followed suit, and then they soon became level with Harry.

The stands were going wild. Fred and George were on their seats, trying to get the crowds to chant some rhyme that involved Harry 'creaming those waste of human flesh cowards'. Most were standing, looking over the heads in front of them, searching for their champion. Then, when Harry, Marindernia and Whin were scarcely visible and they nearly crashed into the shore on the other side, they turned the other way towards those waiting for them, and dived. If Harry wanted to win, this was the time where he would put his newfound physique into gear.

"COME ON, HARRY!" Ron shouted in excitement, "GO, MAN!"

It certainly did look as though Harry was putting all his effort into his swimming. Marindernia and Whin were marking him very close. It looked as though they could tie. Their indistinct bodies slowly became more distinguishable, and soon, they were almost fifty feet away from the shore. Hermione had never seen anyone swim so fast.

Hermione stood on her seat, her heart pounding painfully against her rib cage, trying to shield the sun from her eyes. The stands rose to their feet and the coast was filled with the ear-piercing screams of encouragement. The champions were so close now that they could see Whin's furrowed brow, Marindernia's pained expression and Harry's resolute face. They looked exhausted and not at all tolerable.

Then, as the crowd hollered and the Headmaster's and Headmistress stood, as the waves crashed and a deluge of water washed up onto the beach, the champions reached knee-deep water. Harry pushed himself, his face pale and his legs looking stiff with weariness. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead and his body dripped with water. Hermione watched him, her eyes unmoving and lips thin.

The man in gold leapt forward, his wand out. He shouted a spell, and almost at once, a thin, silvery ribbon was extended from a tree on one side and a boulder on the other. The champions ran to it.

Hermione held her crossed fingers in her lap, her heart feeling like it was about to beat out of her chest. The students on either side of her held their breath. Some screamed to levels so high that it could make your ears bleed. But it was apparent what was going to happen.

Tisroc was first to hit his point of triumph. He hit the ribbon, and it broke. Harry was hardly a second behind. Then Marindernia crossed the finish line. The blow from the whistle made it official, and the stands erupted with applause, though it was not as loud as the Dryconderoga stands.

"HE DID IT!" howled Dean and Seamus, "HE'S SECOND!"

            Hermione wasn't aware that students poured onto the pitch. She wasn't even aware that she was almost the only person left in the stands. She was completely sidetracked- by Harry. He had collapsed onto the sand on his back in exhaustion, his chest heaving. He pressed his hands over his eyes, whipping the water away. Something inside of her burst like fire.

            "Now for the scores!" announced the man in gold, waving a threatening finger at anyone who dared to run to their champion. Everything went quiet again.

"The judges will vote on performance, speed, and of course, strength. Miss. Marindernia is first. Professor Kohl, if you please."

Marindrenia apparently didn't care of her score. She was still catching her breath, looking as though she had been chased by a horde of giant squids. Hermione looked around at the Professor's booths. Professor Kohl, wrapping her shawl tightly over her shoulders, waved her wand. The number seven shot out her wand and disappeared in smoke. There was a small round of applause from the Nockdernia stands. Then Professor Siamoen stood and produced the number six from his wand.

"She's not going to make it with thirteen," Hermione said to Ron quietly, "Harry should get better."

Dumbledore's turn was next. He stood, a smile on his rosy face, and raised his wand. He formed a seven too.

"Twenty's not bad," said Ron half-heartedly, some blush rising onto his freckled face, "At least she tried."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Mr. Tisroc is next," announced the man, "Professors, continue."

Tisroc looked very surly at his score. An eight from Professor Kohl, a nine from Siamoen and the same from Dumbledore. His school applauded quickly, obviously waiting for Harry's score. Hermione bit her lip, her hands wringing in her lap. This was the moment that she had been dreading. What if Harry got a terrible score and he wouldn't speak to anyone for his humiliation? Than she remembered what he had said to her yesterday night. Was Harry really up to beat a score of twenty-six?

The Hogwart's students waited silently. Professor Kohl took a moment to think before raising her wand and producing an unmistakable eight. Hermione screamed in glee and cheered along with everyone else. Harry finally sat up. He obviously thought he'd get scores worse than Whin's. He beamed, watching Fred and George pretending to cry in each other's robes.

Next was Dumbledore. He raised his wand and out came the spiral shape of another eight. More cheers of excitement erupted from the Hogwart's stands, and Hermione had a feeling they were getting louder and stronger, counting down until the last score-which was now. Hermione pressed her hands over her eyes and put her head in her lap in uncertainty, waiting for some sound of praise or thrill. There was some sort of hole in her stomach that she couldn't explain. It was indescribable, but still there, eating away at her insides. Maybe it was doubt? She didn't know.

Hermione listened so hard in almost hurt. She could hear the biting on Ron's fingernails beside her and the shuffling of feet that were yearning to jump up in ecstasy. First, nothing. Then Hermione heard it: the sound of the ribbon being shot into the air. It would be producing a number at that moment… and…

She was almost thrown off her seat from the force of Ron and Neville leaping up, their arms flailing about. The applause at the Hogwart's stands where deafening. Hermione shot up as though hit with a sudden bolt of electricity, just in time to see the number Siamoen produced… a nine. One point away from Whin's score, only no student cared. Maybe the entire Hogwart's school did learn from their mistakes since last year.

"Hermione!" shouted Ron, tugging on her arm, "Come on!"

            She was pushed, half carried, onto the ground. Her ears were filled with the non-stop excitement and screaming from everyone around her. Ginny was dancing around, hugging her third year friend; Fred and George (who were beaming with satisfaction) were being paid off for their bet by Lee Jordan; Professors Sprout and Flitwick were cheering something ecstatically… and Harry was lifted into the air. He was grinning from ear to ear, his hair still soaked and his eyes shinning with excitement.

            "You did it Harry!" yelled Neville, who hadn't looked so blissful in his life, "You're one point away from Whin!"

            "I did!" said Harry in disbelief, "I really did it!"

            Hermione watched him. He looked so happy. The way he should be and the way he looked better. He laughed and smiled as the crowd of people carried him around, chanting his name and whistling. That was when she and Ron reached him. He jumped down.

            "Did you see that?" said Harry loudly in disbelief once he joined them, "I did it, Ron!"

            "You did, Harry!" said Ron, yanking his arm into the air, "That was ruddy brilliant!"

            Hermione, meanwhile, was standing in the background, feeling misplaced. She made sure her face was pointed down and her shoulders were straight, not slouched. Fiddling with her robes, she hoped against hope that Harry wouldn't-

            "Hey, Hermione! What's wrong?"

            She frowned 'Me and my theories,' she though savagely, 'why doesn't Harry just walk over, tell me I was wrong, and finish me off? I've almost never been wrong, so now Harry's going to admit it… brace yourself…'

            But it never came. No 'I told you so' or 'you were wrong' followed by some horrible laughter. He didn't even speak. Maybe he had gone back to the festivities or perhaps he was lifted onto the shoulders of his Gryffindor friends? But they were still celebrating without him. Hermione decided to look up.

            Harry was closely in front of her, his head cocked to one side and his eyebrows raised. Ron was behind him, his face shining with anticipation. He gave Hermione the thumbs-up.

            "Hermione, I know you can't admit you were wrong, so I'm not going to lie," said Harry softly, his hair still dripping wet, "You were right."

            She gaped at him. Ron stopped in the middle of his impression of kissing an invisible person behind Harry's back.

            "I know you thought I could do it, but you just didn't want to say it," said Harry softly, "You knew that I could do it. Something's bothering you, but I'm not sure if that's it. I might have a slight idea."

            Hermione didn't say anything. She just let her arms fall to her sides, her stomach twisting in something she had felt before. It was the same sensation she felt when she met Harry the first time that year, and almost every time he had spoken to her. She had that feeling coming back to her again, and this time, it was stronger.

            "What makes you say that?" asked Hermione timidly. She felt sick, and the memorizing look of Ron's face made it worse. Harry, however, didn't answer at once. He slowly took her hand.

            'Wait… what is he doing?' thought Hermione in horror, 'Oh, gosh… oh no! Wait… this so bad after all.' She looked up again. Ron was silently cheering to himself, throwing his hands into the air and chanting some silent gibberish. As Harry's grip on her hand tightened, Hermione was no longer aware that Ron was acting like a complete dolt behind Harry's back. Her ears tuned out from the sounds of the cheering and excitement and her eyes became resolute. Harry simply smiled.

            "Your eyes told me."

…~'*'~…

A/N: *deep breath* AWWWWWWWWW! Now, wasn't that cute? That's as much fluff you'll get for the next few chapters. Sorry for all you fluff lovers out there. Next chapter has something incredibly interesting… but I wont tell you what…*insert evil laugh here*