5.A

I settled in at the very end of the gryffindor table, sipping at a glass of milk to calm my nerves as the great hall slowly filled with students. In a rare show of good sense and diplomacy, Harry and Ron sat with me without saying anything about the incident in the common room yesterday.

"You should have been there Hermione, the World Cup could even make a quidditch-hater like you learn to love the game," said Ron.

"Even just being there was neat," said Harry. "We set camp in some muggle's field that the authorities kept obliviating every time he saw something he shouldn't." "Which was like all the time," cut in Ron. Harry continued, "And it turns wizard tents are waaay bigger on the inside. Shame those Death Eaters ruined things the end, torturing muggles and muggleborn like that."

I wasn't sure how I'd missed such a big piece of news as that. Not that I hadn't been busy, but Death Eaters making such a high-profile statement was highly significant. They'd been dormant or defunct for over a decade and now suddenly they were doing this? Still, it was what Harry said before that that truly worried me. How much difference really was there between government-loving purebloods like Ron and halfbloods like Harry and the Death Eaters they fought? I'd been so eager to leave my loneliness behind that I'd seen the wizarding world through rose-colored glasses for a couple years but it was clear to me now that their policy of memory-raping any muggle that looked at them funny should be far more unforgivable than Avada Kedavra. It made people not-themselves without them ever even knowing they'd been violated. Ron was one thing but Harry hadn't been raised to this culture. Hadn't stopped him from drinking the Kool-aid though.

While I wanted to debate and correct their thinking on the subject I was a bit wary of the Weasley family's close connection to the Ministry of Magic. If my political views reached the wrong ears I might get put on a watch list that might lead to them uncovering that I'd informed the American FBI of the existence of magic. Even if I wasn't currently a demi-human that was enough to get me thrown in Azkaban for life or have my soul sucked out of me straight away - employing soul-sucking demons was another policy I strongly disagreed with for that matter.

So instead I said nothing, humming a sort of agreement as the continued blathering on about quidditch. 'Dementors…' Though I wished it hadn't, the name raised a theory of mine to mind. I wanted to just repress it but if I was to control this urge of mine to consume souls when in my natural form then I had to understand it. Thinking back to the burning I'd felt when Harry's stag patronus scattered the dementors a question slipped from my lips. "Harry, does your patronus feel hot to the touch?"

"No? It just looks like it's burning. It feels slightly warm and comforting."

"Oh, gotcha." I was the only one that felt like it was searing my skin off then. Strangely that had been before my animagus training but perhaps I'd been unconsciously in touch with my other form even then. I was once again curious just what type of spider I might be. Supposedly no animagus transformed into a magical creature but I didn't match any spider I'd seen in the muggle world and this new revelation suggested there was some linked ancestry between dementors and myself. Unless it was some creature from Arda I was starting to think my animagus form was that of some type of demon spider. Actually… the two ideas might not be mutually exclusive.

As a time-traveling witch that had repeatedly stepped through an interstellar or interdimensional rift I couldn't rule anything out. Well, with the possible exception of casting Expecto Patronum or a proper Lumos spell ever again. "Oh, I think it's starting," I said, pointing out Dumbledore.

"And now, the moment you've all been waiting for." He swung his wand, candles dimming. "The Champion selection." He strode to the goblet, red fire turning green as it spat forth a slip of paper. "The Durmstrang Champion is… Viktor Krum!" I tried to see him but even the Hogwarts students were rising to cheer and I lacked the necessary height in my polyjuiced body to see over them.

"He was the seeker for Bulgaria during the World Cup you know," said Ron excitedly. "There was no way it was going to be anyone else. Can you believe he's only eighteen?" 'Man crush much?"

Dumbledore's voice bellowed out again. "And for Beauxbatons… Fleur Delacour!" I caught a brief glimpse of silvery-blonde hair before she was similarly obscured by those applauding. The cheer seemed just as enthusiastic but this time the well-wishers were almost exclusively male.

"You should have seen Ron when she arrived," whispered Harry. "He fell on his face and nearly broke his nose thanks her allure."

"Huh?" I hadn't known Harry to be someone to use words like 'allure.' Was it a new slang reference for her rack?

Harry grinned. "Where have you been lately? I don't know how you missed the gossip but it turns out she's not fully human. Part veela I've heard though I don't know how much. After the World Cup Ron's been obsessed with them."

Before I could linger too long on thoughts of Ron's sexual interests, Dumbledore moved to the part I'd been waiting for. "And last but not least, our very own Hogwarts Champion, Hermione Granger?"

A polite round of claps came from the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students before they caught on to the disapproval of the Hogwarts student body. A few first-year students that didn't know any better clapped as well but gradually a dark silence came over the room as I left my seat. It was awkward to have so many eyes on me and a little odd that Ron's astonishment so quickly turned to anger but even so I was internally cheering and giving myself an imaginary fist-pump. I'd actually done it, I'd been chosen by a magical goblet as the one most worthy of presenting the school. Those seventh-years had to be so jealous right now.

The other two Champions were surprised to see me when I reached the back room we'd been sent to. Before they could get any funny ideas I said, "Hey, I'm Hermione Granger the Hogwarts Champion. It's nice to meet you." I was struck by how good-looking the were. Victor Krum, as befit his status as a quidditch star, was remarkably fit. Well, for a wizard anyways. And Fleur Delacour, in another blow to my heterosexuality, was breathtakingly stunning. There was a glow to her skin that no human could match and with her fine features she looked like a younger version of the elfin queen I'd met and almost as impressive.

I was startled out of my lust-tinged examination of my competitors as Dumbledore grabbed my arm and pushed me up against a wall. I held myself back from scratching his face off but it was a close thing. "How did you get your name in the goblet."

"I walked up and dropped it in?" I answered.

He gripped my arm more firmly. It wouldn't bother me in my half-spider form but I suspected it would leave bruises while I was polyjuiced. Sort of impressive for someone over a hundred years old. Also a real dick move and completely uncalled for.

"How did you get past the age line?" I cringed as a bit of old man spittle hit my face. 'Age line?'

"This is what happens when you don't cane the students regularly Dumbledore," said Karkaroff. "Give her to me and I'll have her talking in no time."

"Barbarians, the both of you. Get your hands off that student," said the Headmistress of Beauxbatons.

Reluctantly he did while I wondered just what went on in that head of his. Perfectly calm as a basilisk hunted his students (including me!) and quite willing to hire three (possibly four?) villainous DADA professors in a row but God forbid someone fuss with his plans to revive the Triwizard tournament and 'promote international wizarding cooperation' and he went batty. "We'll speak of this later," he hissed. 'Not if I have anything to do about it you senile old codger.' He easily ranked as the number one reason why I'd lost my blind respect for my elders.

Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch stopped further interrogation by starting up their explanation of just what I'd gotten into. Wasn't thrilled about the possibility of painful death but that was hardly a new thing at Hogwarts. Or Arda, of late… One pleasant surprise was that Champions were excused from exams this year and I was ninety percent sure that meant I could skip all my classes. My younger self would view that thought as heresy, obsessed as I was with learning things and to be honest showing off. But it had been quite some time since class was synonymous with learning and the tournament was another way to prove my existence. Besides, with the loss of the time turner I needed a way to feed my addiction to free, unstructured time.