In years to come, Hermione would look back on the breakfast after Harry became the second Hogwarts Champion as the beginning of the end of the Golden Trio as she knew it. Nothing had prepared her for the level of vitriol that Ron and Harry slung, nor the sheer number of deep-seated hurts they'd both been carrying around for the entirety of their friendship. All she could do was sit in stunned silence as Ron and Harry bared their souls to each other. Only for their gripes and anxieties and pains to fall on deaf ears.

"I can't believe you'd just leave me in the dust like that! Enter your name and not even tell me. Me! Your best mate! I thought we did everything together."

"Me? I can't believe you. I didn't enter my name, and if you'd thought for even one minute about it you'd realize I don't want to be a champion. I've never wanted any of this!"

Both were obviously hurting. Neither was taking it well, although Ron certainly was being a monumental prat.

She didn't know which one she felt sorrier for in that moment.

But she knew which one needed her more right now.

And it was Harry.

When Harry stormed out of the Great Hall, she quietly packed up her bag, muttered a quick mention of going to the library before class, and hurried after him. He slowed as she approached, but she could tell he was still wound so tight he was likely to shatter right in front of her.

"He'll come around, Harry. Just give him time."

Harry whipped around, eyes blazing with anger and fear. She thought she might see the glisten of tears in his eyes, but she resolutely ignored them. Harry wasn't good at emotions, especially his own. It was best to let him decide how much he wanted to share and when. Pushing only made him angrier.

"Well if he can't believe me, I don't care if he 'comes around' or not. He can eat shite for all I care."

"You don't mean that."

His expression hardened. "Yeah, I really do."

Hermione placed a hand on his arm, trying to do what she wasn't sure. Maybe turn him towards her? Give him a hug? Do anything to ease the hurt vibrating under his skin?

He shrugged hard, abruptly dislodging her hand. Pushing past her, Harry made an unexpected turn on the second floor and fled down the corridor. All she could do was stand there, bag hanging limply from her hand as she watched him run away.

"Is everything alright?"

Startled, Hermione turned so quickly she nearly lost her balance. Behind her, Neville wore an expression of contrite concern. All she could do was shrug.

"No. I don't think it is."

"Did he put his name in, then?"

"No. No he did not." Her eyes sharpened as she prepared to do battle with yet another classmate.

Neville just nodded. "Yeah, I didn't think so. Didn't sound like Harry."

An older Slytherin wearing a badge brightly emblazoned with "Potter Stinks" caught her eye and smirked. She sighed, her whole body feeling tired and deflated. And it was only eight in the morning.

"You should tell him that. I think he's going to need all the support he can get."

The two continued silently down the hall, trudging up the stairs and into the Transfiguration classroom. With a glance between the two, Neville took Harry's usual spot next to Ron in the back row, leaving the seat next to Hermione open. A peace offering if she'd ever seen one.

But Harry never showed.

In fact, Harry didn't show up to a single class that day. He'd missed Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, and Charms. She could only imagine how many detentions he'd have gotten if he'd pulled the same stunt on a day they had Potions.

Small mercies, she supposed.

She was, therefore, exceptionally surprised when Harry peaked his head around the corner of her little library alcove that afternoon, expression guarded but apologetic.

"Can I?" Harry paused for a long moment, seemingly fascinated by the pattern of the carpet. "Can I join you?"

When she didn't immediately respond, he continued. "I know you study here to focus and be alone, but I just can't go back to the Common Room. Please?"

She sighed, eternally grateful that he'd not shown up when Viktor was there. She didn't think Harry could take any more surprises right now. She'd have to tell him about her new friend. And soon.

"Of course, Harry."

The wooden chair groaned slightly as Harry sat down across from her and pulled a book out of his bag. She fished around in her own bag and pulled out a neat stack of parchment covered in her own tidy handwriting.

"Would you like to copy my notes from today?" It was the best olive branch she had, and she couldn't verbalize how relieved she was when he accepted it, gently grabbing the notes from her and tucking them into his bag.

"Do you believe me, then?" His voice sounded so small and defeated and angry.

"Oh Harry. Of course I believe you."

"No one else does. I heard the other champions talking about me last night, in the Champions Dorm. Fleur thinks I'm in it for the glory." Harry's voice was tight with emotion.

"I'm sure they're all just surprised and upset. They'll come around. It's not even been a day yet."

Privately, she wondered if she could talk with Viktor, somehow convince him that Harry wasn't stupid enough to try and enter the tournament at the tender age of fourteen. There was absolutely no way that he was skilled or knowledgeable enough to actually compete against the other champions. Not that she'd ever say that to Harry's face.

She searched desperately for anything to talk about that wasn't an admonishment for missing classes.

"So, tell me about the Champion's Dorm. Where is it? What's it like?"

"It's ok. I get my own room, which is nice. Especially now. There's a little common room with some chairs and stuff. Nothing fancy." Harry seemed to warm to the topic a little.

"You should come by sometime. We're allowed to have visitors. Just, you know, not those kinds of visitors." Harry smiled for the first time that day. Just a little one, but it definitely counted.

"I'm sure all the fan girls will be disappointed."

Harry laughed. "I passed through Krum's fan club on my way here. Have they been this bad all year?"

"You've no idea."

An hour passed in quiet companionship. Hermione worked steadily on the new assignment for Charms, ready to be done with it so she could get back to Alchemy. She'd been having a terrible time finding any sources about Byzantine Alchemy in the library, and she was beginning to think Viktor may have been right: that Hogwarts and English wizards simply didn't care to study it. But she was still determined to prove him wrong. Besides, how else was she supposed to finish her half of the research if she couldn't find any books on the subject?

It was while she was huffily flipping through her Alchemy notes that Harry's voice interrupted the stillness of the library.

"You know? I thought it'd be kinda cool to share a dorm with Krum. But I'm starting to wonder if he's mute. I've seen him more in the last twenty-four hours than I have all year and he's not said a word."

"I thought you said they'd been complaining last night."

"Krum complains plenty with his eyes. He didn't need to say anything."

That…sounded a lot like Viktor, if she was being honest.

She shrugged. "I'm sure you'll get to know them all better as the year goes on. I'm in Alchemy with him and I can confirm he is not actually mute."

"Right. I forget you have a class with him."

'Now or never, Hermione,' she thought. Easing Harry into the idea that she and Viktor were friends would be much better than the alternative. She could only imagine how hurt he'd be if he found out she'd been keeping secrets right on the heels of Ron's absolute meltdown.

"We sit at the same table, actually. He's quite nice."

Harry's head whipped up to stare at her. Part of her fancied it'd been so abrupt his neck could have snapped.

"You're kidding."

"No. We're partners for a project on Byzantine Alchemy. You might…" she paused, trying to figure out what to say next. "You might see him back here sometimes. He comes here to study now and again." If she'd had the courage to look in Harry's eyes, she'd have seen the immense confusion as he attempted to rewrite everything he thought he knew about Viktor Krum.

"Huh."

Scratching his neck in discomfort, Harry gave her a tiny smile. "Think you could introduce us?"

=/=/=

The next two weeks were some of the strangest of Hermione's life. She hadn't realized how little time she actually spent with Harry and Ron these days until the two boys didn't have each other anymore. Ron badgered her endlessly in the Common Room at night, trying to entice her into playing exploding snap or chess. It was clear in every longing sigh he aimed at the chess board that Ron desperately missed his best friend. But it was equally clear that Ron's own pride was his biggest enemy, and he wasn't planning on mending bridges anytime soon.

Harry meanwhile, had become her shadow. He sat with her in classes. He ate his meals with her. He did his homework with her. If she was in the library, so was he. It was nice to spend more time together, and Harry was certainly working harder on his classes than he ever had before, but it was getting to be a little stifling.

The first time Viktor had trudged into the library after a long day with a tired smile only to discover Harry at their usual table, he'd looked absolutely baffled. She'd given him an apologetic smile and a small shrug as he settled at the as-yet-unused second table in the alcove. Harry hadn't shut up about it the next day, excited to have anything to talk with Hermione about that didn't revolve around schoolwork.

The second time Viktor came upon them, it was to find Harry in Viktor's own usual spot, asking Hermione for help on their latest Potion's essay. Viktor had attempted to quietly draw her into conversation about Byzantine Alchemy, but Harry's pleading, anxious eyes as he contemplated receiving yet another Dreadful in Potions meant she'd had little time to chat. She'd meant to stay late and apologize once Harry left, but Viktor had been the first to leave that evening. He'd given them both a small bow and a soft "goodnight" and her chance to explain left with him.

There hadn't been a third time. She wasn't sure where Viktor was studying these days, but it certainly wasn't with her.

She'd tried to talk to him in Alchemy for the last two weeks, but while he was everything polite, something had certainly changed. He gamely worked on their project, even leant her a painstakingly translated ancient Bulgarian Alchemical text, but something was missing. She couldn't have put her finger on exactly what it was, but he seemed to speak with less excitement, less enthusiasm. She often reminisced about that last study session together, where he taught her to feel magic and proclaimed her hair elastic a good luck token from a pretty witch. That easy comradery felt a world away. In fact, he had taken to treating her much the same way that Harry or Ron did.

In which lay the problem.

On the Friday night before the first Hogsmeade weekend, Hermione found herself ensconced in an empty third-floor classroom with Ginny and a small stash of butterbeer. Where Ginny had gotten them she didn't know, but she found she equally didn't care. After all, she'd just been very politely rebuffed in Alchemy by the boy she'd been secretly hoping would be her first kiss. Again.

"So, tell me your woes, oh depressed one."

"I am not depressed. And I don't have any woes."

"Oh come off it, Hermione. My brother's head is so far up his own arse he's gone blind and Harry's following you around like a kicked puppy. I think you've got plenty to complain about."

Hermione shrugged and took a swig of the butterbeer, letting the light carbonation tickle her nose.

"Isn't the first task this week?" Ginny asked.

"Don't remind me. Harry's got no idea what it is. In fact, I think he's trying to pretend it's not even real."

"Well, what about Krum? Does he know what it is?"

"I wouldn't know."

Ginny broke out into a beaming smile.

"Too busy playing tonsil-hockey to talk about the task, huh?"

When Hermione didn't respond, Ginny turned to her and peered into her face. Seeing something truly upsetting, she placed her own bottle on the ground and spun around to face her friend head on.

"Don't tell me you've not taken him behind the greenhouses yet?"

Hermione snapped.

"And when would I have the chance to do that? Between Ron badgering me every night and Harry following me around all day, I've barely had a moment to myself."

Understanding dawned on Ginny's face.

"Oh Merlin. Harry's been studying with you every day, hasn't he?"

All Hermione could do was nod and take another swig. A rushed explanation of the last couple of weeks tumbled from her lips. Once the first words were out, it was like a rushing river, the words tripping out as the thoughts and feelings and worries came out faster than even her brain could keep up. When it was over and she'd buried her head in her hands, Ginny finally spoke up, ruefully shaking her head.

"Poor Krum. His lady love has left him for another wizard. A much younger wizard. That poor man. Think he'll want some cheering up?" Ginny's eyebrows waggled and she giggled, seemingly finding the entire situation funny.

"It's not funny."

"Yes. Yes it is. But only if you do something about it and put the poor man out of his misery."

"And how exactly am I supposed to do that?"

Ginny didn't seem to have an answer. The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes before Hermione drained her butterbeer and lay down flat on the floor. The ceiling of this classroom was absolutely filthy.

"What are your plans for Hogsmeade tomorrow?" Ginny asked, peering over at her so her hair fell like a curtain around Hermione's face.

With a puff of air, Hermione blew away a strand from where it tickled her nose. "Harry's meeting with Professor Lupin at the Hog's Head."

Ginny rolled her eyes and sighed, leaning back on her haunches. "I didn't ask what Harry's plans are. I asked what your plans are. But obviously you don't have any besides being Harry's emotional support."

"He needs it. Now more than ever."

"Well, Krum needs it too, obviously. Here he is, being the gentleman and backing off when you started snogging the competition."

"Eww. I am not…"

"I know that. But Krum doesn't. And he's too much of a Pureblood gentleman to do anything about it. Which means you'll have to."

That was an interesting thought. And a terrifying one.

"Like what? What am I supposed to do?"

Ginny paused for several long moments before reaching over and opening the last two butterbeers with a 'pop!' Passing one over to her friend, she took a long, contemplative swig. Hermione could practically see the gears turning in her head. Terrified at whatever scheme Ginny's brain was concocting, Hermione took a swig, enjoying the foamy texture of fresh butterbeer.

"Where'd you get these anyway?"

"A lady doesn't reveal her secrets."

A long look.

"Fred and George, ok? As if that's any surprise." Another pause. "You know, it might be a lot simpler than you think."

"Oh?"

"Krum's a man of few words, right? So, you need to show him that you're interested. What if I helped you meet him somewhere while Harry's in Hogsmeade? Surely Harry can survive one afternoon without you."

"So I can do what?"

"Whatever you want. Talk to him. Grab him by the ears and kiss him. Apologize. Wish him good luck this week. Whatever you want to do."

Her brain began to replay the idea of grabbing Viktor by the ears so she could kiss him breathless. Heat flushed up her neck and flooded her face. She probably looked like an embarrassed tomato.

"I don't know, Gin. What if he doesn't actually, you know…want me? What if it's just been all in my head?"

"You know, I never thought boys would turn you into an idiot."

=/=/=

Early the next morning, Hermione descended the main stairs to find Harry already waiting at the Gryffindor table for breakfast. Trying to conceal a sigh, she thought back to her discussion with Ginny the night before. She didn't have to be with Harry every moment of the day. But she still felt like she should be. He was just so fragile these days, anxious and alone and afraid of the upcoming first task.

She could apologize to Viktor later, no matter what Ginny might have suggested. After all, she was certain Ron was going to realize what a prat he was being any day now, and then she could finally go back to the way things were before this whole mess started.

Probably.

Smiling tightly, she sat down and grabbed a piece of toast. Harry was watching her with the strangest look on his face. One she couldn't place at all.

He tried to say something several times. His mouth would open, his forehead scrunching up as he gathered his courage, only for his teeth to click back shut. It reminded her of a fish.

Finally, on the fourth try, words actually came out.

"Hermione?"

When he still seemed uncertain, she sighed and reached for the orange marmalade. "Yes, Harry?"

"Is there?" He paused, glancing around to see if anyone was listening.

"Is there a reason Krum was asking me if you were my girlfriend?"

Every thought in Hermione's brain stuttered to a halt. Her toast remained suspended, halfway to her slack mouth, entirely forgotten. The conversations around her faded to a comforting buzz, all sound with no meaning.

Harry was looking at her like she was an idiot with three heads.

Which, considering the oddities of the magical world, may actually be possible.

"Hermione?"

"What did you tell him?"

Looking at her with that odd expression on his face again, Harry responded "that you're like my sister."

"Oh. Good."

"'Good.' That's it. That's all you're going to say?"

Mind made up, she jammed the piece of toast in her mouth and brushed her palms together to get rid of the crumbs.

"I've, um. I've got to go. You can see Lupin on your own today right? Only, I forgot I promised Ginny I'd spend the day with her." Hermione's brain whirred, desperately trying to come up with an excuse, but it seemed entirely focused on exactly one thing right now: escaping Harry and finding Ginny. "She's worried that Michael Corner may not like her very much after all."

What a stupid thing to say. Anyone with eyes could tell that Michael Corner thought Ginny was gorgeous. He'd live with her in an abandoned classroom if she let him.

Good thing Harry didn't have eyes, then.

Although he was looking at her rather piercingly right now, his eyes narrowed behind his glasses as he tried to figure out what was going on.

"Yeah. Ok. I'll…catch up with you when I get back, then?"

"Yes! Definitely!"

If she'd looked back, she'd have seen Harry's furrowed brow and bemused head shake.

=/=/=

Mind made up, she searched the castle high and low for Ginny. Which of course meant that she couldn't find her anywhere.

She chose to blame Michael Corner.

Harry found her on her second lap between the Great Hall and Gryffindor Tower.

"You know. I'm not an idiot."

"And when have I ever said you were an idiot?"

"At breakfast." He gently gripped her elbow and began steering her towards the entrance hall. "Where should I tell him to meet you?"

"What?"

"Again. Not an idiot. Blind, apparently. But not an idiot."

"I…" It was her turn to look like a gaping fish.

"You realize I live with him, right? I know he's not going anywhere today. Cedric tried to invite him to Hogsmeade and I think Krum contemplated murdering him. So, tell me where to send him."

Hermione had such a deep surge of affection for her best friend that she felt almost teary.

"I'm sorry, Harry."

"For what?"

"I just. I've put you in an awful position."

"How'd you figure that? Just because you fancy a guy in my dorm?"

Her absence of any kind of denial shocked both of them.

"Because you're competing against each other. And I don't want you to think I'm not going to be rooting for you. Because I will be. Obviously I want you to win."

Eyes a little soft and with a small smile on his face, Harry stopped walking and turned to face her.

"Hermione, I don't want to win. I just want to survive with all my limbs intact. I'm not going to be upset if you root for Krum. I will be upset if you don't get me his autograph for Christmas."

Smacking him on the shoulder, Hermione felt, deep down, that somehow, everything was going to be ok.

They walked all the way up to the second floor, where Hermione knew the Champion's Dorm to be. Somewhere. She hadn't been brave enough to try and visit Harry there yet.

"How about behind Hagrid's hut? Near the forest?"

"Wanting some privacy, then, huh?" She smacked him again, harder this time. Harry just laughed, his head thrown back and tears beginning to collect at the corners of his eyes.

"It's not that funny."

"I know. But today it is. Just. Be behind Hagrid's hut in an hour. You're so going to owe me for this. By rights I should be sitting him down and telling him to treat you right."

"Please tell me you're not going to do that." The mortification would be immense. Unbearable.

"No. Absolutely not. I saw him with his shirt off last week. He'd grind my bones for bread."

Harry's belly-laugh at her red face chased her all the way up the hall as she stalked off to collect her coat and scarf.