Disclaimer: I do not own anything


Chapter Four: Fourth Year


Of course, he should have anticipated this. His past three years in Hogwarts were enough proof that nothing had ever gone according to his plan. Hermes Granger just wanted to diligently study for his lessons now that he was in his fourth year, but being best friends with Harry Potter did not really give him the luxury.

A wide yawn tore away from his mouth as Hermes stretched a little. It amused him immensely that because of the Triwizard Tournament, fewer students now go to the library to study. He still couldn't accept the fact that Dumbledore had to cancel some academic activities and exams just to accommodate the thrilling events of the said tournament. But then again, with two House Champions competing in a dangerous game that could potentially result in death… well, how could they really study at all?

It was still a mystery to him how Harry was chosen as the Fourth Champion. Cedric Diggory was already a perfect choice, the poster boy of Hogwarts' brilliance and strength, so it was suspicious the Goblet of Fire chose another Champion from their school. Although he understood that the magic used to make the Goblet of Fire was extensive, it was ridiculous how they never thought of such loophole. Now, Harry had to compete in such a deadly completion because the goblet said so.

Sighing, he glanced at a book he was reading on dragons. Hagrid had secretly shown Harry what his first task would be, which Hermes knew was totally unfair to the other champions but absolutely necessary to keep Harry alive. Ever since then, he had been trying to research on dragons to aide Harry during his First Task.

He wanted to ask help from Ron, but he'd been a massive tosser ever since Harry was named Fourth Champion. Ron couldn't accept that someone was framing Harry; the only acceptable reason why Harry was chosen was of course The-Boy-Who-Lived wanted all the glory once more. Ron had avoided them both, for Merlin's sake, and Hermes was too busy keeping Harry alive to concern himself with his other, stupid best friend.

"Merlin, Granger, have you no life?"

His hands stilled, slowly lifting his eyes to see a bemused Iris Malfoy standing in front of his desk. A green headband held her hair back and he wasn't sure if he was imaging things but was her lips extra glossy today? Ever since school started, there was something different about Malfoy this time. Sure she'd grown taller and all but there was something else.

"What do you want?" he coolly asked, trying to breathe through his nose to calm his suddenly racing heart. He mentally berated himself for getting all riled up with just her mere presence. He promised at the end of third year he'd push away such antagonistic feelings away from his heart just to be the better man between the two of them. But, Merlin Almighty, Malfoy always went out of her way to bother him.

"Dragons? Really?" she asked, sitting down on the vacant seat across from him, uninvited. "What? No Potions essay to finish? No Transfiguration spell to practice?"

"Bugger off," he murmured with a deep frown.

Of course, she didn't listen to him. Instead, she placed her pointy chin on top of her palm and smirked. "So, is it true Potter tricked the Goblet of Fire?" she innocently asked.

"Nobody can trick the Goblet of Fire," he reminded her. "Much less a fourteen-year-old."

"True," she said, flicking her silky hair over one shoulder, "but how can you explain that Hogwarts has another champion? I wouldn't be surprised if Potter went out of his way to bring the attention back to him."

Hermes expelled a huge sigh. "Merlin, I'm sure you don't believe that codswallop," he said, closing the book he was reading on and grabbing another.

"Of course Potter's too stupid to accomplish something as advanced as tricking the Goblet of Fire," she said, her steely grey eyes landing on him. "You, however…"

The Gryffindor lifted an eyebrow. "Were you just complimenting me, Malfoy?" he asked, amused.

She narrowed her eyes. "How did you do it?" she asked.

"Do what?"

"Trick the goblet," she elaborated.

"Look, Malfoy, as much as it thrills me to know that you acknowledge how brilliant I am," he drawled, smiling at how she rolled her eyes, "I don't think I have enough knowledge to breach its wards. You've seen how even the more intelligent, well-equipped seventh years were unable to trick it."

"So… only a wizard powerful enough can do so," Iris murmured, drumming her manicured nails on the tabletop.

"Yes," he concurred.

"Hmm…" Her eyes looked out at the window of the library, gazing at the students milling around the Hogwarts grounds on this lazy day.

"What the hell are you still doing here, Malfoy," he shot back in confusion.

Iris took a huge sigh and drew her eyes back at him. "I'm bored," she confessed with a shrug of her shoulders.

"So… you came to the library to what? Torment me?"

Her infamous smirk flitted briefly on her face. "Yes. Probably," she offhandedly said.

Hermes completely pulled away from the book he was reading and gave her an annoyed frown. "Why do you always torment me?" he asked, wanting to hear her answer once and for all. True he was a mudblood and he was bloody beneath her in every way, but he wasn't the only pathetic mudblood out there. Maybe being Harry Potter's best friend was a bonus, but still. She wasn't this persistently antagonistic with Harry!

"You make it too easy, Granger," she finally answered, a hint of sincerity in the tone of her voice. "I knew which buttons to press… what feathers to ruffle." Her smirk came back full-force. "You're like a bloody open book. You wear your heart on your sleeve. It - it grates me."

"Grates you?" he echoed, eyebrows flying through his forehead.

"Yeah, grates me," she emphasised. "Rubs me the wrong way."

"Hmm…" he said, copying her stance and placing his chin on top of his open palm. "Unlike others I can identify, I have nothing to hide, Malfoy."

The glance he gave her was meaningful, which wasn't left unnoticed by the Slytherin. The surprising peacefulness on her face turned scornful, and Hermes sighed in disappointment once more. He had once again awakened the Dragon.

"I have nothing to hide," she snapped, eyes turning into slits.

"Sure, whatever you say," he casually said as he looked once more at the text he was reading.

She made an irritated sound at the back of her throat and stood up from the chair. "Whatever, I'm leaving," she quipped. "And good luck helping Potter in his first task. The bastard's brain capacity can only accommodate Quidditch and being stupid generally so I won't be surprised if he was the first champion to die."

A light bulb lit in his mind. "You're right!" he exclaimed. "You're absolutely right." Harry was brilliant at Quidditch, so they could use that to their advantage.

"I am?" Malfoy asked, her eyebrows knitting in confusion.

Hermes was already scanning through his Charms book to notice Malfoy's eye roll and consequent departure. Upon seeing the Summoning Charm, he grinned and proceeded to practice its theory and wand movement.


The First Task flew by without much of a hitch, except for some singed hair and a burnt finger. But other than that, Harry Potter emerged out very much alive and, to Hermes' amusement, leading the whole fight. The other three Champions were undeniably powerful, but Harry's brilliant plan of pursuing the Golden Egg was equal parts maddening and exhilarating. No wonder the media was sensationalising his lucky brush with death.

Now, with the end of the First Task, Hermes had no choice but to help Harry with his Second Task. Ron was still an absolute prat about all of it so Hermes did not even bother asking him to help. Harry desperately wanted to accompany him to the library, but nasty rumours about him kept on resurfacing on The Daily Prophet care of Rita Skeeter. For the life of them, they still hadn't discovered why some of her observations were scarily accurate and decided that Harry showed his face around Hogwarts as less as possible.

Hermes glanced at the book in his hands, titled '101 Magical Eggs and Their Surprises' and wasn't entirely sure if it was the right book after all. There could be a huge possibility that the egg was spelt to hold that atrocious screeching for them to decipher. Still, it didn't hurt to try.

The chair across from him screeched, disturbing his reading, and honestly, he almost found it laughable that Iris Malfoy came by on the dot, too. He half-expected to see her shiny hair and that smirky face of hers, but when his honey-coloured eyes settled on the intruder, his mouth flew open.

Across from him sat the French Beauty, Fleur Delacour. Her blonde hair was left untied over her shoulders and he swore they were even shining with every small movement she made. Their baby blue uniform complemented her fair skin and blue blue blue eyes and Hermes found himself suddenly thinking of nothing else but her sheer beauty as he expelled a deep, contented sigh.

"'ello," the older witch greeted with a dazzling smile.

Her voice that sounded like a choir of angels washed over his form, prompting him to sigh once again. When Fleur quirked an eyebrow, he finally got a hold of himself and shook awake. His cheeks reddened and he finally broke his gaze away from the pretty blonde.

Up close, he now firmly believed that she was, in some way, a Veela. The scary powers she had that made him think stupidly was acting up once again and Hermes refused to be placed under her spell.

"I 'ave a proposal to make, 'Ermes Granger," she continued with her heavily accented voice.

His eyes widened. "You know my name?" he asked, surprised.

"Of course," she replied matter-of-factly. "Brightest wizard of 'is age. You are quite famous too, little Gryffindor. 'Arry Potter's muggleborn best friend."

Hermes frowned, growing a little suspicious, and looked at her at the corner of his eyes. She was ethereal, and sans the Veela powers, she was actually stunning to look at. Still, Hermes didn't trust beautiful girls like Fleur and… and Malfoy – 'Right, where the hell did that come from?' he mentally asked himself, and shook his head again. Perhaps, he was still partially under her Veela spell.

"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, "but I think you're lost." His eyes widened a little when she released a breathy laugh that sounded exactly like tinkering bells. "Bloody hell, you really are a Veela."

He didn't mean to say the last part aloud. After all, it was merely speculation and he didn't want to offend Fleur.

When she still hadn't replied to his earlier rude comment, he surreptitiously glanced at her to see that she was grinning widely, too widely, and he was baffled.

"I knew it," she gleefully snapped back, eyes twinkling a tad bright.

"Excuse me?" Hermes said, frowning at her forehead. He realised that if he didn't look at her pretty eyes, his mind wouldn't become too much of a jumbled mess of incoherent blubbers.

"You knew about it," she simply stated. "You figured about it zan ze others."

He absentmindedly scratched his chin. "Well, it wasn't too hard to notice that scary powers you release every time you're in the vicinity so…" He sheepishly smiled, realising he had described her Veela powers as scary, but Fleur merely laughed again.

"I'm actually a quarter-Veela," she explained. "But it was enough to 'ave ze so-called 'scary powers' zat you speak of."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend," he said, but she merely waved her hand in dismissal.

"Not wrong," she said, her tongue rolling awkwardly due to speaking a different language that wasn't her own. "Besides, I 'ate it."

Hermes' eyes widened. "You hate being a Veela?" he asked, surprised. From what he'd seen from afar, he honestly thought Fleur Delacour was basking under all the attention she was receiving, unwanted or not. The students' attention to her almost rivalled their awe at seeing Viktor Krum, the very same Quidditch International Star, strolling along the corridors of Hogwarts. Harry and Ron may still not be on speaking terms, but both blokes were practically salivating when Viktor Krum was within sight. It was laughable, really.

"Ze people only see me as a Veela," she said with a grave nod. "Not as me."

"Oh," he said with a sympathetic nod. "That makes sense. I'm very sorry about that."

She daintily shook her hand again in dismissal. "Doesn't matter," she quipped. "As I've said, I 'ave a proposal."

Curiosity now reigned as he pushed his useless book away and gave her all of his attention. "About what?" he asked.

She drew out her wand, which prompted him to clutch his own out of instincts. Fleur didn't seem to notice as she waved her wand with a flourish, spoke a spell that sounded French, then smiled.

"What was that?" he asked with a frown.

"To stop ze other students from hearing," she explained.

Hermes' eyes widened. "Like a Muffliato?" he asked, suddenly interested. He'd never heard spells spoken in French before, though he'd come across them in other books.

"Something like zat," she said, recognising the spell. "But it's weird if I use zat 'ere, no? In ze bibliotheque. Zere will be no buzzing sound with zis spell."

He nodded his head, absolutely concurring. "Nifty," he said with an impressed smile. "You have to teach me that."

"Some other time," she said. "Ze proposal."

"Right, okay go on."

She prettily smiled once more and leaned forward. "I will 'elp with ze Golden Egg for 'Arry Potter," she started. "In exchange, you 'ave to go to ze Yule Ball with me."

Hermes's eyes widened. "I'm sorry," he slowly started, "but I think I haven't heard you right. You want me to come with you to the Yule Ball."

She nodded her head vigorously. "Oui, oui," she said with a pleased smile.

If it were possible, his eyes almost popped out of their sockets. "But… but I don't understand," he asked, feeling flustered all of a sudden. "I mean… I mean you're really pretty, Fleur, no offence – "

"None taken," she said with a laugh, looking at him with amusement.

" – and if you must know, I'm not exactly err… suited to be your Yule Ball partner," he blubbered out. "I mean, look at me."

"I am good-looking for ze both of us," she assured very confidently. "It doesn't matter."

"But why?" he asked, still thinking everything was too surreal to make sense of it.

Fleur sighed, a flitter of irritation crossing her pretty face. "Because," she started, "it would be such a bother to choose among ze other boys. I told you, zey only want to be with me because of my Veela magic. At least with you, you already know of my… 'eritage."

"You can always tell them, you know," he offered with a sympathetic smile.

She looked down on the tabletop with a sad smile on her face. "Zey will think differently of me," she confessed. "Like a… a lycanthrope but instead makes you pretty."

His heart was being swayed, that much he knew. "Just because you're a Veela doesn't make you any less of a human," Hermes comforted.

Fleur looked at him once more, the blinding smile now stretched widely on her face. "Zat is why I knew you should be my Yule Ball partner," she said, gaining the confidence she had always exuded. When Hermes made another move to protest, Fleur lifted her hand. "Zink of 'Arry Potter."

The fourth year Gryffindor chewed on his bottom lip, deep in thought. Her clue could be useful, after all. It still made him very nervous what the Second Task would be. Fighting dragons for the First Task was already dangerous. He didn't doubt that the Second Task would be difficult either. And, well, it wasn't fair too because Fleur lamented how she hated being a Veela because of how they were still regarded in this society. True, being a Veela was way easier than being a werewolf or a house-elf in the Wizarding World. Still, they were regarded as a lesser form of humans and Hermes could not just accept that.

When he expelled a huge sigh, Fleur's eyes lit up, hopeful. "Oh, all right," he finally said, flinching when the seventh year Beauxbatons student released a soft squeal in excitement. "So, the Second Task then?"

Fleur nodded, the smile still on her face. "Ze egg," she started, "tell 'Arry Potter to listen to ze song underwater."

"It's a song?" Hermes asked in disbelief. He clearly remembered the awful screeching that filled the whole Common Room when Harry opened it once.

"Mermaids," she simply said.

The Gryffindor's jaw dropped. "Of course!" he exclaimed, remembering that the song of merpeople would be coherent underwater. Of course they would be a series of babbles and screeching when heard above water. "It makes sense, blimey." He gave her a broad grin. "Thank you, Fleur. You've been really helpful."

"Likewise, little Gryffindor," she said. Hermes felt his cheeks heating with embarrassment, a small sheepish smile blooming on his face.

She pulled out her wand again and muttered a soft Finite.

"See you at ze Yule Ball, 'Ermes," she said, already rising from her seat. She bid him a cheerful goodbye and Hermes watched, a little mesmerised at how her hair glittered under the sunlight scattering into the library.

Shaking himself out of his daze, Hermes immediately gathered his things, intent on relaying the new clue to Harry as soon as possible.


Hermes released a loud whoop when Harry emerged from the freezing water of the Black Lake and dragged an unconscious Ron Weasley onto the plank. The gillyweed he swallowed a while ago was now losing its effect while Ron woke up and coughed out the water he'd ingested.

The curly-haired Gryffindor bounded down the bleachers to meet his best friends, but to his surprise, Harry dove back in.

He quickly collapsed near Ron, a towel now wrapped around his shivering form, and asked, "Why the hell did Harry return to the water?"

"Fleur's" – he coughed more water – "sister."

Upon the mention of the Beauxbatons Champion, Hermes' eyes landed on Fleur's distraught form, blubbering about her sister. Madame Maxime's expression was a mixture of sympathy and disappointment – sympathy for the worried blonde and disappointment because Fleur was unable to finish the Second Task.

A few minutes after, Harry reemerged, this time dragging a young blonde that resembled Fleur.

"Gabrielle!" she wailed, zooming out from her Headmistress' arms and gathering her sister into a relieved hug. "Oh, Gabrielle, ma chère."

Her sister slowly woke up and started to cough out water while Fleur draped a fluffy towel over her shoulder.

Then, to Harry, she placed two kisses of gratitude on each of his cheek, prompting the Boy-Who-Lived to turn into a brilliant shade of red.

"Lucky bastard," Ron murmured under his breath, earning a smack from Hermes.

"You were brilliant, Harry," Hermes said, giving him another red towel as Harry approached them.

Harry received it with thanks and frowned. "I arrived third," he said through chattering teeth.

"We weren't really in danger, you know," Ron quipped, unable to look into Harry's eyes. "If you left Fleur's sister, you could have been first."

Hermes quietly stared at his other best friends, wondering if they would finally, finally make up.

When Ron went missing an hour before the competition, Harry grew worried but Hermes already had an inkling when he heard that Cho Chang also disappeared. He couldn't help but roll his eyes when Dumbledore then announced the Second Task but there was a tiny part in his heart that clenched a little bit, knowing he wasn't the most important person in Harry's life. But that was quite all right, really. Ever since he was eleven, he knew Ron Weasley would always be Harry's very first best friend.

"Thanks, mate," Ron then said, awkwardly scratching his nose and looking anywhere but Harry.

Hermes released a massive sigh. "Just bloody apologise, Ronald," he grumbled.

The redhead turned into a bright shade of red and glowered at Hermes. "What for?" he shot back.

"For being a bloody wanker, for starters?" Harry offered, an innocent smile on his smile.

Ron froze for a moment before he slumped in shame. "I had been one, yeah?" he said. When Hermes and Harry simultaneously nodded their heads, the redhead released a sigh. "I'm sorry, Harry, for being a total tosser." He hesitantly outstretched his hand. "Brothers through and through?"

The redhead smiled widely when Harry clasped his arm. "Brothers through and through," Harry echoed with a smile of his own.

"Finally," Hermes exclaimed, draping both of his arms over their wet shoulders. "It's utterly exhausting being your messenger Owl, you gits."

"You were brilliant at it, tho – OW! Hermes!" Ron rubbed his smarting chest and glowered at him once more. "I was just unconscious for an hour and that's how you treat your best friend? Mental, you really are."

Hermes grinned and just pulled them closer to himself, happy that the Golden Trio was whole once more.


There was a terrible rumour going around that Fleur Delacour was taking Hermes Granger to the Yule Ball.

Fleur Delacour – practically a goddess with blue eyes, blonde, shimmery hair – taking Hermes Granger – frumpy, gangly, mudblood, annoying, stick up his arse, know-it-all, swot – to the Yule Ball.

Fleur Delacour. Hermes Granger. Yule Ball.

Even though Iris repeated it in her head over and over again, it never made sense. How could someone so beautiful, with suitors lining up the hallways of Hogwarts, take the plain, annoying Gryffindor?

No sense. At all.

Fleur was flawless and Iris was actually envious how she always looked so well-kempt, even though she was fighting a dragon or rescuing her sister. Her blonde hair could never be that shiny; Iris had to spend the rest of summer practising beauty spells with Pansy before fourth year started. She had to spell a cushioning charm to her high-heeled shoes, now that she insisted to Narcissa it was fine time to ditch those stupid kitten heels. She had to spend a lot of time in front of the mirror to make her make-up look effortless, like she wasn't trying too hard. Pansy was going all out, much to her disgruntlement. It wasn't classy, not at all, but Pansy had been receiving the attention from boys she craved so her pug-faced friend didn't mind one bit.

Then Fleur Delacour came and Iris wondered what spells she used just to make herself perfect at all times. Perhaps, if she learned the Beauxbatons Champion's secret to perfection, Iris could use it on her and make her father just a little prouder of her.

So, she couldn't understand how such a rumour came about. She was just casually biting a green apple, lazily sashaying around the hallways of Hogwarts just to search for something to do, when she spied Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil giggling to themselves. The duo was infamously known for their gossips, three-fourths of them untrue. Still, if you wanted to know the latest rumour, the fourth year Gryffindors were their go-to persons.

Iris contemplated on messing up Brown's perfectly curled hair just for the fun of it. But when she heard Granger's name, she faltered and deftly hid behind an alcove. Just to eavesdrop incriminating rumours that she could use to Granger in the future, of course.

" – can't believe that Fleur Delacour is taking Hermes to the Yule Ball!" Parvati prattled excitedly, disbelief in her eyes. "I mean, it's Fleur Delacour."

By then, Iris' eyes had grown into saucers, disbelieving herself.

"Well, we can't deny that Hermes had grown really tall over the summer," Lavender said with a dreamy sigh. "He's practically the same height as Ron. He isn't half-bad himself."

"True," Parvati said with a reverent nod. "Still, if Fleur really wants to take someone from the Golden Trio, Hermes Granger would definitely be the last resort."

Lavender giggled and nodded excitedly. "Right?" she said. "I mean, he's so intelligent and brilliant yada yada yada, but Ron's like super cute with the freckles on his nose and don't even get me started with Harry Potter! He's the Boy-Who-Lived, for Merlin's sake! No offence to Hermes, but he's the one that stands out the least."

"But he does give wonderful hugs," Parvati pointed out.

The blonde released another dreamy sigh, a stupid smile on her face. "Merlin, he really does," she concurred.

Iris gagged and immediately moved away, unable to stand their conversation any longer. How could they think Hermes Granger stood out the least? Weasley and Potter were total buffoons, tossers in their own right! At least Granger had an intelligent head on top of those broad shoulders and he could carry a witty conversation that admittedly didn't bore her to tears…

Realising what she was thinking, Iris scowled and stomped away. It was only when she spied Madame Pince when she realised she was in the Hogwarts Library.

Iris stilled for a moment, wondering why in Merlin's name was she in the library, then decided once and for all to confirm if the rumour about Hermes Granger and Fleur Delacour was true.

She spied him somewhere near the Herbology section after minutes of searching. One thing she discovered about Granger was that he never stayed put in the library. One week he'd be buried behind thick tomes of books near the Transfiguration section, and the next week he'd be writing his essays near the Defense Against the Dark Arts section.

It was so annoying, his constant transfer of tables. Why couldn't he be like Blaise who liked to study at the left side most of the library, near one of its huge windows, just beside the Potions section? Searching for him wouldn't be that hard then.

Granger stood up from his table and disappeared behind one of the bookshelves. Iris determinedly stomped closer, her painful heels clicking and clacking against the stone floor, until she finally reached him. He was crammed between two towering bookshelves, mostly about books on bubotuber pus.

The Slytherin rolled her eyes. Typical Granger. He was already starting his Herbology essay that wasn't due until after the Yule Ball.

"Granger," she called out. The Gryffindor stilled and looked down at her, surprise flitting in his eyes.

"Malfoy," he said with a tired sigh. "I don't understand why you always go to the library when you're not even studying in it."

She slid in front of him so now she was sandwiched between the towering bookshelf and his towering form. Merlin, was it crampy. "I heard a stupid rumour," she blurted out before she chickened out and left. Iris didn't understand why she was suddenly becoming nervous and all. "Loads of bollocks, in my honest opinion."

His eyebrows knitted together in careful calculation. There was a part in Iris that felt like Granger already knew what she would say.

"Fleur Delacour asked you to be her date for the Yule Ball," she said in a rush, then bursting into nervous, quiet laughter afterwards. Voicing it aloud sounded wonderfully ridiculous in her ears. "I mean, that's bloody rich, Granger!"

To her surprise, his frown deepened. In fact, Granger looked angrier. "I was hoping that stupid thing won't spread around this early," he grumbled through gritted teeth.

Her jaw dropped in sheer astonishment, not minding how unbecoming of a Malfoy she might have looked. "Bloody Merlin, it is true!" she accused.

Hermes glared down at her. "Here to tell me I'm not worthy of being beautiful Fleur Delacour's date for the Yule Ball, are you?" he snapped.

"Yes! You're not! I mean, look at you!" she all but shrieked.

"First of all, Malfoy, this is a bloody library and you can't go all shrieky here," he murmured in disgruntlement. "Second, this is a bloody library so if you do not intend to study here, then you should really just go. And last, save whatever insults you have in your mind. I've heard them all."

He gave her a withering glare. "If you like, you can go to Fleur Delacour herself and count all the ways I'm not good enough for her," he snappishly continued. "Merlin knows you aren't the first one."

Iris was still staring up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. "Well, Gra – "

Her words were left dangling when Hermes suddenly leaned forward, effectively trapping her between him and the bookshelf behind her. Merlin Almighty, Brown wasn't kidding when she said Granger was unbelievably tall. Last time she tormented him, he was the same height as hers. Now, she couldn't look into his eyes without craning her neck a bit.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she shrilly asked, not entirely sure why it was suddenly too warm and she couldn't properly breathe.

Granger looked at her strangely and she stilled, his nose lightly brushing against her forehead. Her heart sped up, her breath coming out in quick, small puffs, before Granger entirely pulled away, a new book in his hand.

"I was getting a book and you're in the way," he pointed out matter-of-factly, curiously glancing at her warm cheeks. Then, with a frown, he slipped away from the crampy bookshelf and back to his desk.

It took a moment for Iris to breathe normally again and for her heart to resume its normal pace.


Although he had been dreading the Yule Ball for days, Hermes couldn't deny the rush of excitement he felt as he looked at his reflection. His other roommates already went away to fetch their dates. It still amused him that his best friends would be taking the Patil twins. Harry lamented how he wanted to ask Cho, but Cedric Diggory already beat him to it. And well, Ron.

Now that he and Harry had made up, Ron poured almost all of his energy accusing Hermes of bewitching Fleur Delacour. Harry had thankfully didn't mind; he only thought the whole thing was ridiculously hilarious. Ron, on the other hand, was still in disbelief that the Beauxbatons beauty asked him to be her date and not the other way around.

"Do you honestly think she'd ask you, Ronald?" Hermes snapped one time when he was at his tipping point. Ron glared at him darkly and didn't talk to him for the rest of the night. He loved his best mates all right, but Ronald Weasley could be a jealous prat if he wanted to.

Shaking such annoying thoughts from his mind, Hermes stood straighter and smoothed his navy blue robes. He proudly looked at his bushy hair, tamed into soft curls thanks to Lavender Brown's help. He hadn't really minded his hair before, thought that it was one of his defining features and loved it immensely. But since he was bringing probably the most beautiful woman to the Yule Ball tonight, might as well look the part and at least match her in some ways.

With his tamer curly hair parted elegantly, he thought he actually looked decent.

He gave himself a once over before finally leaving the Gryffindor Common Room.

The hallways were already deserted, seeing that it was already curfew for the younger students while the older ones were most likely in the Great Hall already. He smiled a little when he heard excited chatter from the said hall.

Hermes stepped out of the main doors and strode towards the huge carriage where the Beauxbatons students currently stayed. He marvelled at the magnificent Palamino horses, petted one on the nose along the way, before knocking on the carriage door.

It opened after his third knock. His eyes widened, beholding Fleur in an elegant grey dress.

"You're late," she tutted. She glanced at him from head to toe before a small smile appeared on her face. "But you look 'andsome tonight, 'Ermes."

He blushed scarlet and held out his hand. The quarter Veela held onto his hand and daintily stepped down. "You don't look bad yourself, Fleur," he stumbled with an apologetic grin.

Fleur released a lovely laugh. "I am beautiful today, idiot," she confidently replied.

Hermes grinned and shook his head. Fleur could actually be arrogant if she wanted to, but the Gryffindor couldn't deny that she was a pleasant company. After their first encounter in the library, there were times when Fleur would accompany him in the library to study. She never once asked help from him for the Tasks, though, much to his relief. Ron had accused him one time of fraternising with the enemy. Keeping Harry alive was the top priority, but he knew he wouldn't be able to deny her if she asked for his help.

As they neared the Great Hall, Hermes suddenly felt a tad nervous. Fleur's hand was perched on his arm and, sensing his nervousness, she gave him a comforting squeeze.

"Half the student body, mostly boys really, will kill me just to be in my position," he joked, attempting to lighten the mood.

The way she laughed made him slightly relaxed. She gave him a knowing, secret smile, unbeknownst to him that Fleur recalled a certain feisty blonde Slytherin that demanded to know why she had asked Hermes Granger, of all people, to be her date in the Yule Ball. It was comical, albeit endearing, how she proceeded to list down all the reasons why he wasn't worthy of her.

"I'm sure zere is someone who will kill me just to be in my position, too" she shot back.

Poor Hermes merely took it as her attempt to joke and laughed in return.

He finally pushed the door open and he descended with Fleur. Eyes instantly latched onto them, seeing that they were the last ones to come, and excited mutterings spread around the Great Hall like a wildfire.

Hermes couldn't help but puff out his chest in pride, a huge smile tearing away on his mouth, knowing that he was holding the most beautiful girl in this room.

The Great Hall was beautiful. Snow was spelt to fall from the ceiling, disappearing before it reached the ground. The four long tables were transfigured into smaller, round ones, scattered at the sides to leave an open space for dancing at the very middle. An enormous Christmas tree decorated with colourful baubles glinted at the front and beside it was a merry band with different instruments ready to blast some holiday cheer.

All in all, it was a winter wonderland and Hermes was mightily impressed with the advanced magic used to change their usually droll Great Hall into something enchanting.

He spotted Harry near the entrance, a pretty Padma Patil in his arms. The-Boy-Who-Lived gave him a brilliant smile and greeted Fleur with a blush.

"Sorry we're late," Hermes apologised. Professor Flitwick merely waved his hand in dismissal and gestured for the band to start their procession song.

They went into formation, with them at the very front. Viktor Krum and his Ravenclaw date came second, then Cedric Diggory with Cho Chang, and finally Harry Potter and one-half of the Patil twins.

Their procession marked the start of the Yule Ball, and as the song grew into an upbeat melody, many people started pulling their partners into the centre of the hall for a dance.

Hermes couldn't recall when he had this much fun. Fleur kept on pulling him to the dance floor for dances; he suspected he was her safety blanket from boys who were prowling around, ready to pounce for an opportunity to keep the Veela alone. The Gryffindor didn't mind, though. Dancing with Fleur and laughing with her and her schoolmates was fun. Fleur was also an interesting date. Despite her blinding beauty due to her Veela scary powers, and her little arrogance with her looks, she actually was witty with humour that could even make a frumpy bookworm laugh.

"Well someone's having fun," Ron grumbled when Hermes laughingly sauntered to their direction for a quick break. Fleur excused herself to go to the loo with the other girls, so Hermes could rest for a bit.

"Well someone's a total wanker today," Hermes pointed out, raising an eyebrow at the silently fuming Parvati Patil.

The redhead glared and huffed in annoyance. Harry, on the other hand, smirked and clapped Hermes on the back.

"Congratulations on snagging the most beautiful woman in this Ball, mate," he said, absentmindedly passing a drink to his date, Padma, who was a little affronted with his comment.

Hermes smiled in bemusement. "I'm quite sure that is not entirely true for you, Harry," he said, a hint of teasing in his voice, as his eyes landed where Cho Chang was. Harry followed his line of vision and scowled upon seeing the Ravenclaw giggling over something Cedric Diggory had whispered against her ear.

"Shut up, Hermes," Harry grumbled, suddenly in a bad mood. He crossed his arms across his chest and looked away.

"Oh honestly," Parvati then shrieked. The three boys watched her with wide eyes as she shot up from her seat and pulled her twin sister away.

Hermes sheepishly glanced at their backs then looked at his best friends. Harry merely shrugged.

Ron rolled his eyes, muttered, "Girls. Bloody mental," under his breath and continued to brood.

Fleur came back and snagged him away. Hermes shot them an apologetic smile, but just earned identical glares from his best friends. Merlin, they were tossers tonight but at least he was having loads of fun.

"Would you like some refreshments, Fleur?" he asked after an upbeat song. He was parched after laughing too much.

The Beaxubatons beauty fondly patted his cheek. "Very thoughtful," she said with a pretty smile. "Zank you, 'Ermes."

He grinned and strolled towards the refreshments table. He grabbed two glasses and happily scooped punch into them.

"Wipe that stupid grin off your face, Granger. You look ridiculous."

His smile faltered, recognising Malfoy's annoying voice. Mentally, he promised that no one, not even bratty Malfoys, could ruin this night for him.

"Bugger off, Mal – "

No words escaped from his mouth as soon as his eyes landed on her. Malfoy was frowning down at the assorted snacks on the table, probably disgusted at how subpar they were compared to the usual delicacies offered during their Pureblood Balls back at the Malfoy Manor. Hermes felt his throat drying as he gazed down at her dress, elegant black with embroidered flowers at the skirt. Her usual straight blonde hair was perfectly curled, draped on one side of her shoulder and held off by a silver, gleaming flower tiara. Her lips were painted pink, eyes with a hint of colour to highlight the silver of her eyes.

She was… she was…

Hermes forgot how to breathe.

Malfoy seemed to realise his lack of response for she diverted her gaze away from food and glanced at him.

"What the hell are you gaping at?" she snarled.

The air that went into his nostrils snapped him off his daze. Blood flooded his cheeks as he hastily grabbed onto their drinks and practically ran away from her as fast as possible.

Fleur was chatting with a pretty Ravenclaw brunette when Hermes finally went back to her side. He had downed his drink already just to calm his racing heart.

"Are you all right, 'Ermes?" she asked with that thick accent of hers. "You look a flushed."

His cheeks reddened more and downed the other drink until he was merely clutching two empty glasses.

Fleur raised an eyebrow, an amused smile on her face. Hermes' eyes widened and realised he drank both of their drinks.

"Right, yes, I'm fine," he said.

The French woman chuckled and shook her head. "You can really be charming if you want to, little Gryffindor," she said, fondly patting his cheek. "Is zere someone in your 'eart? I zink you will be good to my sister Gabrielle, no? If you can wait for 'er to grow up."

"No one," he said a little too quickly. His cheeks reddened more. "In my heart… I mean, there's no one in my heart right now."

Fleur was still looking at him strangely before grabbing onto his arm to pull him back to the dance floor.

Surreptitiously, Hermes looked at the general direction where he knew Iris Malfoy was hanging out with her Slytherin friends, hand perched on Blaise Zabini's arm. To his surprise, she was already looking at him with an indecipherable expression in her grey eyes. His eyes widened when Malfoy's cheeks blazed and immediately looked away, a scowl now painting her pretty face.

Hermes immediately looked away from Malfoy, his eyes connecting with Fleur's worried, blue ones. They were way prettier than Malfoy's, and Fleur was lovely, and good, and funny, and really, really beautiful. But her hair didn't shine the right way, her lips not curled perfectly that complimented her smooth face, her eyes not bright enough.

Thoughts halted altogether in his mind as his heart raced once more.

'Don't think, don't think, don't think,' he continued as a mantra, knowing that if he'd dwelled on those thoughts more, he would land into a conclusion he wasn't ready to face.


The Great Hall was thick with grief as Dumbledore made his year-end speech in memory of Cedric Diggory.

Hermes glanced at the seat between him and Ron, Harry's absence a stark reminder of what had transpired during the Third Task.

He still remembered that night clear as the day. Harry's horrified screams, a dead Cedric Diggory in his arms, and the haunting green Dark Mark cast over the night sky. Just thinking about it again sent shivers down his spine.

Harry was screaming about Voldemort's return, his face a picture of pure terror Hermes had never seen him wear. The students had erupted in fearful whispers but most of them merely speculating that perhaps the Boy-Who-Lived had gone barmy because of Cedric's death.

"Nasty accident, that one has been," Cornelius Fudge said in an interview with the Daily Prophet. The whole ministry effectively stamped Harry as mental due to grief and had dismissed his claim of Voldemort's return all together. This had marginally calmed down the students of Hogwarts, knowing through their parents' stories and their Hogwarts lessons that Voldemort was already gone for good. They knew that; Harry was a testament to his demise. His return from the dead was absolutely ridiculous.

But Harry… oh, Harry was so adamant, insisting that he had seen Voldemort with his own eyes, that he was bloody back so why weren't they listening to him? Hermes had seen Cedric's dead form and although he had never seen someone hit by a Killing Curse in the flesh, the way his empty eyes gazed heavenward suggested his cause of death.

Hermes had a feeling that something tremendous and evil was brewing. The mysterious attack of masked men during the Quidditch World Cup last year, with the green, menacing Dark Mark hovering overhead, was already testament that they were already going through some dark times.

Dumbledore believed Harry, much to Hermes' relief, because at least he wasn't the only one. His speech included an ominous warning, for them to be safe, for them to think of Cedric Diggory when the time came for them to choose between what is right and what is easy. Most of the students were talking amongst themselves in protest, firmly believing that even their Headmaster was nutters.

Fuming, in grief for his best friend and their denial, Hermes glanced at Ron. Thankfully, the redhead hadn't been a prat and believed Harry, too. Harry Potter needed support the most right now.

"I'm… I'm going to check up on Harry," Hermes said, suddenly feeling nauseous at their mocking faces.

Ron started to rise from the bench, too, but Hermes shook his head and smiled. "Just stay here, Ronald," he said.

The redhead thankfully got the hint that Hermes wanted to be alone. Ron's face hardened but resolutely nodded his head, now shifting his gaze down at his empty plate, seemingly without any appetite at all.

Hermes immediately walked out, head bent down, unable to look at the other students. Harry… Harry needed a friend, and Hermes needed some peace of mind.

He stumbled out of the Great Hall only to collide with another person. He shot out his hand to clutch onto an arm to steady her.

"I'm sorry," he murmured hastily.

The arm he was holding tensed and he blinked, realising it was Iris Malfoy he was holding on to.

"Bugger off, Granger," she murmured. She pulled her arm and walked towards the Slytherin table without a glance back.

Hermes, however, stood rooted on the spot. He wasn't entirely sure if he was imagining things or not, but there was definitely terror in Malfoy's eyes. He shifted his gaze back at her, her back facing against him as she clutched a letter in her shaky hands.

Swallowing down a nervous lump, Hermes couldn't shake off the feeling that somehow, someway, Malfoy's strange behaviour was connected with Cedric Diggory's death.


A/N: Drop a review!

I did say I'm going to retain the genders of the other characters besides Hermione and Draco, and so, I tweaked some things this chapter.

Also, we all know that the moment Cedric Diggory died, the Harry Potter universe will be darker. Hence, the next chapters, although still sticking to canon, will include scenes I've conjured just to give more perspective to Iris and Hermes' thoughts. Said scenes might be bleaker so do watch out.

With love,
WickedlyAwesomeMe