Hermione allowed herself to have a completely normal day during the Quidditch World Cup, running into friends and many new faces, with a few notable exceptions.
First, she had given Harry a nicely constructed, dragon leather wand holster as a late birthday present. She couldn't quite remember what she had given Harry all those years ago, but was willing to guarantee it would end up being more useful. This time, Barty Crouch wouldn't be taking Harry's wand. No dark mark would be cast. She knew she could cast as much magic as she needed, since it was a magically dense area. Unless she was tripping the dark magic wards, she was as good as an adult.
About an hour before the match, Hermione spotted Ludo Bagman approaching their tent. He was dressed in his horrid yellow robes, a relic of his own Quidditch days, which made him plenty visible. Hermione took a deep breath, and cast a wandless and silent repelling ward between Bagman and the Weasleys. She was a little concerned – her wordless casting was up to snuff, but her wandless casting was much less accomplished. It was something she had only just begun to master in the future, and her younger body just wasn't in sync with her magic yet. Wandless casting was like working a muscle – the more you practiced, the stronger it became. This body had only been working on wandless magic for a few scant months.
She held her breath as Bagman started to walk towards the Weasley clan, keeping an eye on the invisible line between them. If all went well, Bagman wouldn't be able to walk five steps past the line before forgetting what he was doing and walking away.
To her pleasure, he did just that. The irritating man stepped towards their tent, scratched his balding head, and turned right around. She exhaled loudly, not realizing that she had been looking in Ron's direction with an intense expression. He gave her an annoyed look.
Hermione noticed he had been attempting to light a fire with a little matchbox, and she probably came off as if she was annoyed at his incompetence. She was tempted to help him – it was a bit ridiculous, watching him strike the entire box against the ground in an attempt to light it aflame – but Harry came to the rescue and helped him out. That left her free to ask the Weasley twins for a favor.
"I wonder if anyone's betting on the game," Hermione said casually as Harry struck the match and quickly lit the kindling. "What do you think will happen?"
"Oh, Bulgaria for sure." Ron said confidently, seeming to forget the fire entirely. "They've got Krum."
"I dunno, little brother," said Fred (or perhaps George), "Have you heard how good Ireland is on defense? There's no chance."
Fred and George looked at one another with a glint in their eyes. As they stared at the fire, Hermione cast a quiet muffliato and planted a few seeds. "Fred, George, do you think there's some gold to be made in betting on Ireland?"
They were taken aback, and one of them asked, "The prim and proper Hermione Granger, talking about betting? Did you hear that, Fred?" Their eyes twinkled, and Fred responded cheerfully.
"I did indeed, George. I did indeed. Looks like she's got something of a rebellious streak after all!"
"Coming to the dark side, she is." Fred wiped a tear from his eye. "I'm so proud."
"Better late than never, I always say!"
Hermione smirked. "Oh you silly boys, of course I have a rebellious streak. How many ideas do you think Harry and Ron came up with on their own?"
They roared with laughter, and Hermione had to make sure Harry and Ron didn't notice the spectacle. Thankfully, they were still messing with the fire, so she continued. "Anyway, I thought you two were the most likely to place a good bet – if you were going to, can I get in on it?"
As one, they looked at each other, grinned, and said "What's in it for us?"
Hermione smiled. "I can tell you almost certainly the outcome of the match." That was true enough.
"I worked the arithmancy equations, and there's an eighty-nine percent chance that Ireland will win, but Krum will catch the snitch." That was a lie, she hadn't done any arithmancy. But they didn't have to know that, and she knew they hadn't taken it as an elective.
Their grins were downright evil, and she knew they would be able to find someone besides Bagman to bet with.
"I only have three galleons, but I'm trusting you with them. Will you bet with me?" She challenged, holding out the gold.
"You bet!" George said. "Thank you for doing business with us, Miss Granger. You can expect your portion of the profits after the match!" They high fived, and turned back to say together, "Don't tell dad where we've gone."
Hermione ended the muffliato as the two ran off in search of a better. She had no doubt that they'd find someone to take their galleons – it was the most ridiculous thing to bet. In hindsight, she didn't know what drove them to bet this way the first time around. For all she knew, Lee Jordan had asked them to do the exact same thing with his gold, and they just took a big chance.
With those two plans in place, Hermione let herself get swept up in the excitement of the match. It was something she hadn't enjoyed last time. There had been too much noise and excitement for her to truly feel comfortable, and she hardly liked Quidditch anyway. The crowd certainly hadn't changed this time around, but Hermione was enjoying her friends excitement and cheerfulness. It was a welcome break from her rather serious summer.
One surprisingly enjoyable change was watching Viktor this time around. She missed him, in the future. They hadn't been particularly close, but he had appreciated her wit, and she his knowledge (he was quite accomplished in Transfiguration). She watched him swerve and feint, and was even able to see a bit of beauty in the game.
She kept a close eye on Winky, and on Harry's arm holster, but nothing seemed amiss. Hopefully this was enough to keep Barty Crouch Jr. away from a wand. And at long last, Krum caught the snitch, formally ending the game and leaving Ireland with the 1994 Quidditch Cup. The twins looked at her in awe, and she smiled back. "How much do'you think we made?" She asked Fred.
"Oh, loads. Everyone was happy to bet against us, and we found a huge pool of people. We might've even made a thousand galleons!" Fred – or, the twin she guessed was Fred – gave her a friendly slap on the back. "All thanks to you and your arithmancy!"
They descended from the top box cheerfully, and Hermione promised to cover for them as they went to get their winnings. All in all, it had been a great evening.
As they returned to the main tent, the boys dancing on the tables in celebration, Hermione sat back. For her, at least, the evening wouldn't end on a cheerful note. She waited until everyone had mostly settled down, announced that she had too much excitement, and slipped away. This was where the real night began.
Once again blessing the concentration of magic in the area, she did a few well-practiced charms to alter her appearance. Her hair turned a deep black, her face became significantly tanner and harsher, and her muggle jeans and sweater were transfigured into a dark, billowing cloak. Casting this persona had become second nature to her in the future, where Hermione Granger's face was far too familiar (She'd been Undesirable No. 3, at her peak). That had been two years ago now, far into Voldemort's reign over Great Britain.
Now, the different appearance would hide her identity for a very different reason. She was going to root out the Death Eaters that were planning on causing a riot, and stop it before it began. Not an action she wanted associated with an assumedly fourteen-year-old girl.
The whole riot was an embarrassment on Britain's international reputation, and a horrible show of intolerance. She knew it wouldn't be too long before they started torturing muggles, so she headed to the entrance to the campground. The moon was high, and Hermione was certain it was almost midnight. Witching Hour. She gave a feral grin, her altered appearance making the expression even nastier. She would give them a Witching Hour to remember.
Sure enough, she heard screams from the front of the park, and started jogging, wand lit in front of her. People were starting to scramble out of their tents, noticing something was happening. She followed the screams, pushing people out of her way. There they were, a group of about fourteen hooded wizards, circling around a small family of muggles.
Two other hooded figures stood near the circle, casting some sort of ward around the party. She snarled – that was how they'd gotten away with it for so long! She sent a reducto at one of the figures casting the wards, but it bounced off, harmless.
Hermione jabbed more spells at them, hoping she could break through the ward before it was completely placed. At this point, people were starting to gather around, not realizing what was going on quite yet. To her horror, an incendio passed through the ward and hit a tent. Soon enough, a fire had erupted, and chaos reigned.
"Alright, you bastards, you'll pay for that!" Hermione yelled, and started to work in earnest on breaking the ward. The poor muggle family was slowly being raised into the air, helpless. A few popping sounds pierced the dull roar of the panicked crowd, and she realized the dark magic monitor must've been tripped.
Thankfully, she had only a few more spells before the ward unraveled completely, and she cast with furious concentration. A calm came over Hermione, and she felt herself enter the battle mindset she hadn't been in since coming back in time. One last spell –
The ward was shattered. A few aurors looked at her in awe, clearly wondering how this strange witch had disabled a ward that they hadn't even recognized. Hermione couldn't focus on them, though. She ran headlong towards the Death Eaters, downing two of them with hardly a glance back. Her focus wasn't on the death eaters, but the muggles. The Aurors would handle the Death Eaters, and hopefully the crowd, too. But no one was looking after the muggles. She rushed to them and cast a shield, snarling at the remaining Death Eaters. They backed away, seeming to realize the game was up.
It was over in a much shorter time than before. Many of the Death Eaters apparated away, to her disgust, but the whole campground wasn't set aflame and rioting. She was pleased when she realized the two she'd attacked were actually captured and taken away by the aurors; they had managed to set out all the fires. Seeing it all well in hand, she slipped away. It wouldn't do for anyone to pay too much attention to her, even with her disguise.
AN: Whoa, that was my longest chapter yet. Thanks for sticking with me for this story! I've been a bit uninspired to write recently, so it took a while to get this chapter out. If you think I'm doing well, I'd be happy to hear constructive criticism, comments or questions!