A/N: A short chapter this time- but this update was a nice procrastination project for me. Let me know what you think.

Chapter 14.

Hermione leaned on her desk, her head propped up on one hand. Her eyes were rapidly scanning a large tome in front of her, pausing occasionally to flip the page. Her hair was more voluminous than usual, her tie loose and askew. The ink-speckled fingers of her spare hand drummed the desk restlessly. Her nails were bitten down short (a terrible nervous habit, she'd thought she'd shaken years ago).

Hermione identified herself as the person that had knowledge. The person that could always find the answers. It was shaking her that she had still not found a solution to Harry's underwater breathing issue.

She spent most of her time in the library when not in class. Harry joined her as much as he could, though was hampered by his press commitments for the Tournament as well as his tendency to score detentions from Snape. He was also very behind in almost all of his classes, likely a result of the pressure he was buckling under.

No, Hermione could find the answer.

She always found the answer.

Hermione paused, scrunching her nose up and rubbing her forehead with the heel of her hand.

She sighed lightly, puffing a lock of curly hair off her face.

A chair scraped nearby and she looked up from her book to see Gabrielle Delacour hopping into a chair at the same library table.

Hermione blinked, sitting up in her seat. She had a slight headache and her eyes felt tired from staring at faded texts all day.

"Hello, Gabrielle," Hermione greeted, stifling a yawn.

"You look sleepy," Gabrielle commented, pulling out her copy of Hogwarts: A History.

"I am a bit," Hermione admitted, "How are you?"

"Bien!" Gabrielle chirped, "I am on to my second read of zis book!"

Hermione smiled warmly. Gabrielle really did remind her of a young Hermione Granger at times. She hadn't met anyone else who had ever read Hogwarts: A History all the way through before, let alone more than once.

"It only gets better with each read, I promise," Hermione encouraged. Gabrielle grinned, before pouting adorably.

"I feel like I 'aven't seen you for ages," Gabrielle told the bright witch, "You only ever see Fleur."

Hermione felt her face get a little warm at that. Her crush for Fleur was still very much in full swing, she just conveniently pushed it to the back of her mind most of the time.

"Well… Er… Gabrielle, that is because I'm helping Fleur with her English," Hermione replied evenly, glancing down at her book.

"I know," Gabrielle groaned, "She is so insistent on not being interrupted when she practises. I walked in on 'er practising saying your name properly and she got so mad!"

Hermione's eyebrows shot up and the heat in her face bloomed warmer.

Gabrielle giggled.

"Zat is exactly 'ow she looked when I walked in on 'er doing it!" Gabrielle exclaimed, clapping her hands together in amusement.

Hermione laughed awkwardly, her mind beginning to twist and turn at this new information.

Hermione's laughter trailed off as her gaze roamed from Gabrielle's face to the bookshelf behind her. An emerald green tie. A uniform-clad Slytherin skulking around the shelves.

Hermione's gaze hardened as she registered Pansy Parkinson. She hadn't seen the girl since she had kissed her in the hallway. Pansy had either been skipping meals or sitting at the furthest ends of classrooms, pointedly pretending she couldn't see Hermione at all.

But now, her dark hair shiny and impeccable, Pansy was skulking around this rarely-visited part of the library. Her grey eyes were on Gabrielle, before moving to lock with Hermione's.

Hermione affixed a false smile on her face, turning to Gabrielle.

"You know, nobody ever talks about it—but there is a second volume of Hogwarts: A History. It's over in the shelves nearest Madam Pince's desk," Hermione told the girl, "You should go and get it out!"

"Wow! Okay!" Gabrielle exclaimed, bounding out of her chair. She disappeared into the shelves within a split second, eager to get her hands on the book.

Hermione sighed, relaxing her shoulders. By the time she took her eyes off the spot where Gabrielle had disappeared, Pansy was already standing at the other end of the library table.

"What do you want?" Hermione asked, dropping all warmth from her tone.

Parkinson was lucky Hermione hadn't had a chance to track her down and confront her. Lucky that she'd distracted Hermione so thoroughly with the kiss that Hermione had momentarily dropped the subject of the textbook and notes.

"I… I wanted to say…"

Normally steely grey eyes were uncertain. There was not a hint of mocking or smugness in them for once.

Hermione usually felt bad watching someone flounder uncomfortably in a conversation. But in this case, she was more than happy to watch Parkinson drown. She kept her silence, quietly watching Pansy.

Pansy swallowed deeply, starting again.

"I didn't take your stupid books," Pansy said finally, pulling nervously at her emerald and silver tie.

"Sure," Hermione replied simply, sarcastically.

She'd been caught off-guard enough times by Parkinson for the year. Baited into responding and letting her temper get the best of her. This time she was going to avoid engaging with the Slytherin. At least until she knew what she was up to.

The silence extended. Thickened.

Pansy's eyes couldn't stay still on Hermione. They would only ever rest briefly, before flitting to other places in the library. She tugged her tie. Cleared her throat.

Still, Hermione refrained from speaking. She wouldn't give Pansy the satisfaction.

"I didn't mean to kiss you either," Pansy finally muttered.

Hermione scoffed.

"Look, I don't know what you're playing at, Parkinson," Hermione said evenly, "You're not going to throw me off."

Pansy's face twitched.

"I'm not trying to throw you off!" Pansy snapped, "I don't have your stuff and I definitely didn't mean to kiss you!"

Hermione's eyes narrowed further as Pansy stamped her foot, turning on her heel and marching away into the depths of the library.

Hermione would never make the mistake of taking a Slytherin at their word.

It was only when Hermione exhaled heavily and leaned back in her chair that she became aware of the small blonde girl standing by a nearby shelf. Gabrielle had Hogwarts: Even More History tucked under one slight arm. Her big blue eyes were wide with innocent surprise.

Oh, Merlin.

Hermione rubbed at her ink-stained fingers. They perpetually seemed to be stained. She couldn't quite keep them blemish free. She eyed her chewed down nails with dissatisfaction.

Hermione was in her last class before lunch: Defence Against The Dark Arts. The class was almost over and Hermione was looking forward to it. Ron had convinced Hermione and Harry to give their fearful study for once and take a walk around the Black Lake. The weather was only worsening by the day, but soon the winter would be in full swing and they wouldn't be able to enjoy walks outside as easily.

Moody limped around the classroom, dumping their essays on their desks with their marks.

Hermione was looking forward to getting back her essay on the rights of The Undead. It had been a fascinating research topic, further stoking her fierce interest in magical creatures and the laws around them.

Harry had written on Grindylows, a topic that Moody had encouraged him towards. The poor scruffy boy had been so wild with stress that Moody had come and offered some guidance after a lesson one day. Hermione was naturally suspicious, but hadn't had any further run-ins with Moody to build her case against him.

Moody dropped Ron's essay on his desk. Ron had—in a blind panic at the eleventh hour—written on the Great Squid. Hermione noted (with absolutely no surprise) that Moody had scratched a big red 'Poor' on it. Of course Ron had failed.

Harry had fared surprisingly well. Probably due to the amount of time he was spending poring through books on anything related to underwater life, Harry had an 'Exceeds Expectations' scrawled on the front of his essay.

Hermione waited patiently, hoping for another 'Outstanding.' So far she had only received 'Outstanding' in all her tests and assignments for the year. She was hoping to keep that streak going.

Moody limped in front of her desk, his pale blue glass eye wildly swirling. There was a fluttering of paper as he dropped her essay unceremoniously on her desk.

Hermione felt her breath choke in her throat.

"Dreadful?!" Hermione questioned shrilly, drawing looks from her classmates. She couldn't believe it. She had put so much work into it and gone the extra mile.

"Suggesting human rights installed for The Undead? Bit far, Granger. I think you missed the point of the assignment." Moody grunted.

"The assignment was on any topic we wanted!" Hermione screeched. She couldn't believe this.

Moody clunked to the front of the classroom.

"What is this class called, Granger?" Moody asked, turning on his claw footed wooden leg. He licked his lips quickly.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts, sir," Hermione answered quickly, "But—"

"Defence Against the Dark Arts," Moody boomed, clunking his way across the front of the classroom, "Training you to defend yourselves against dangerous spells and creatures…" Moody announced, turning again to face the class, "Not to bloody hug them!"

Hermione could hear the Slytherins smirking. She raised her hand.

"But, sir—"

Moody cut her off again.

"Constant vigilance!" Moody insisted with a growl, "Class dismissed."

The students filed out. Hermione stuffed her paper angrily in her satchel. She'd never got a D in her entire time at Hogwarts. It was a blemish on her impeccable record.

Harry and Ron were watching her, looking a little cautious. Hermione waited until they were safely out the doors of the castle and away from prying ears until she broke her silence.

"There is more than one way to keep peace and promote safety!" Hermione snapped, "Beating down magical creatures and treating them like second-class citizens is hardly going to stop the dangerous tensions between them and wizards!"

Ron raised his large hands, shaking his head.

"Hey, 'Mione, we're not Moody," Ron defended, tugging his thick woollen cloak around him.

"It's ridiculous!" Hermione continued, "For someone that Dumbledore and the others speak so highly of to hold views like that—"

"Mum and Dad always said he was a bit funny these days," Ron interjected with a shrug, "He's probably just off his rocker."

"I just think there is something seriously wrong with him," Hermione insisted, "I swear, if you'd seen his behaviour those times I came across him on his own—"

"Great, so Harry reckons Snape is out to kill him each year and now you reckon Moody has out for you," Ron replied, "How come there's no professors out to get me then, eh?"

"Maybe you're not important enough," Harry retorted, breaking his silence. Thankfully, instead of hurting Ron's ego, it merely resulted in a small playful shoving match between the two boys.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

The boys tussled for a several minutes, neither giving up, before deciding that the best course of action was to head to the Gryffindor Common Room to settle things over a game of Exploding Snap.

Hermione was invited, of course. But after the tough blow of receiving a D for an assignment, Hermione rather preferred the option of a solo walk around the Black Lake. She bid goodbye to the boys, wrapping her woollen cloak tighter around herself.

It was a clear day, but cold. The weather was starting to get more and more brisk as the weeks passed on. Hermione shivered.

Thankfully, she had the burning sense of injustice to keep her warm. She couldn't believe Moody. A man supposedly endorsed by Dumbledore? There was something seriously off about him.

Hermione's steps became more forceful, until she was all but stamping around the perimeter of the lake in annoyance. It would have been a comical sight, but Hermione had strayed well past the edges usually frequented by students.

It was only about halfway through her lunch hour when she reached the furthest edge of the lake, surrounded by brush and weeds.

It was at this point that Hermione felt sufficiently far away from others to let herself curse out loud.

"Fucking Moody!" Hermione growled.

She heard a rustling in response, behind some tall bushes but near the water's edge.

Hermione quickly whipped out her wand.

"Wh-who's there?" Hermione called out.

It would be just her luck to run into Moody yet again. Hermione decided to bite the bullet, calling on her Gryffindor courage and pushing past the bushes to see where the noise had come from.

"H-Hermione?"

Fleur Delacour, of all people, was standing by the water's edge. Despite the freezing weather, Fleur was clad in a bikini of all things. The bikini was a light blue and relatively modest.

However, Hermione had definitely not been prepared to stumble across a semi-clad Fleur. Her face reddened and she quickly averted her eyes, looking instead at the small pile of clothes in the grass. Fleur's uniform.

"Er—Um—What are you doing?" Hermione asked shakily, using all her self control to keep her gaze firmly on the grass, "And, er, dressed like that? It's freezing!"

"Oui, it is," Fleur agreed, "But I have cast a warming charm on myself. I am not very good with the cold. Or with being wet and cold, really. I need to practice…"

Ah. For the Second Task. Fleur evidently knew that she would need to stay in the depths of the Black Lake too. Hermione wondered if she had worked out a method of breathing underwater yet.

"Still – shouldn't you practice in a safer area?" Hermione asked, "You know—near other people in case something goes wrong?"

Fleur snorted.

"Please, the boys here do not leave me alone when I am fully clothed as it is," Fleur replied.

Hermione waited for her to continue, but heard a loud splash instead.

"Fleur!" Hermione exclaimed, finally allowing herself to look up, "It'll be bloody freezing in there!"

Hermione rushed to the edge of the water, concern etched into her features.

Fleur was floating idly in the water, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"The warming charm works!" Fleur said triumphantly, "Now to try diving underwater."

"Sure, but be careful—" Hermione started, interrupted by Fleur disappearing under the water with a couple of quick splashes.

"Warming charms never last long…" Hermione finished lamely.

She stared at the water as the ripples slowly settled. Fleur was quite athletic, she didn't know why she should be surprised she was also a good swimmer. She probably even enjoyed swimming if the water was warm…

Hermione let her mind wander to thoughts of Fleur in the bath in the Prefect's bathrooms. How warm and soft Fleur's bare skin had felt against hers…

Hermione shook her head, unwilling to be distracted.

She bit her lip.

Fleur had been under the water for a while now. Hermione wondered if she was okay.

The brunette watched the idle waters of the Black Lake, sloshing lazily. It really was a bitingly cold day. Anyone diving into that lake would be faced with an absolutely paralysing gut-punch of coldness—let alone someone who was predisposed to struggle with the cold.

"Fleur?" Hermione called out.

The water did not stir.

"Fleur?!" Hermione called out, louder.

She didn't know how long Fleur could make her warming charms last, but Hermione certainly couldn't make her own ones last this long.

"Fleur?!" Hermione shouted.

No response.

Hermione felt a hard ball of fear plummet in her stomach. This was the furthest end of the lake. Leaving to get help would only secure Fleur's fate if she was in trouble.

"Oh, Circe help me," Hermione groaned, loosening her tie with two quick yanks. She tossed it to the ground, near Fleur's clothes.