Though Professor Sprout's lessons proved less challenging than those put forth by some of the other Hogwarts professors, Harry struggled nonetheless, as his mind was on a matter of more significance than the harvesting of Bubotuber pus.

"Should I have just asked Hermione out, or asked her to be my girlfriend, or something?" he fretted. Going with the "mostly just friends" route seemed like the most logical option at the time. Starting a new relationship with the Tournament going on and a jealous Ron on the loose was a recipe for disaster, wasn't it? What if they were too busy to date, and their relationship fell to pieces before it even truly began?

And yet, something felt wrong about what they were doing—sneaking around sometimes for chances to steal kisses, unable to truly identify themselves as, well, anything, really.

"And what if Hermione figures out she doesn't want to date me, and then I ask her?" Harry worried further. "Then I'd look like a prat and have an even more awkward situation to handle."

"Harry!" Professor Sprout barked, snapping him back to the classroom.

"Yes, Professor?"

"You may want to stay away from the Venomous Tentacula in the future, unless you don't mind having the back of your robes chewed to bits."

Fortunately, the Herbology class did remind Harry to go back up to the Room of Requirement later. After dinner, he, Ron, and Hermione set off for the seventh floor. Privately, Harry quite wanted to be alone with Hermione, but on the other hand, it was good to have Ron back and in better spirits.

"So, where's this room exactly?" Ron asked as they exited a portrait shortcut.

"It's not exactly there all the time, per se," answered Harry. "You have to express your need three times while pacing back and forth to get the door to appear."

"I'm a bit surprised I'd never heard of it, but there are plenty of secrets in the castle," Hermione commented, while giving Harry a significant look.

"Merlin, girls are always confusing!" Harry thought, meeting her look with one of bewilderment on his part.

"Guess even you don't always want to read Hogwarts, A History, Hermione," Ron grinned. "Can't blame us for not cracking it open now."

"Oh, shut up, Ronald," Hermione retorted, but it was a friendly jab. Despite trying to maintain a serious face, a small grin peeked out. "Truly, it wouldn't hurt to learn a bit more about the school beyond ordinary classes."

"We're here," Harry interrupted. He saw Ron had been ready to answer Hermione's light criticism with either snark or sarcasm, and wanted to stop the disagreement before it began. "Stand back, please. I want to make sure I can still get this place open."

Harry paced three times, repeating his mantra from earlier. "I need a room with information that can tell me how to breathe underwater. I need a room with information that can tell me how to breathe underwater. I need a room with information that can tell me how to breathe underwater."

Once again, the door materialized before him. Harry grabbed the handle and held it open for Ron and Hermione.

"Wow," the pair gasped, mirroring Harry's earlier reaction during his solo discovery.

"Look at all the books!" Hermione cried, pointing and smiling at the large shelves.

"Check out the pool!" Ron quickly made his way to the oversized taps and turned on a couple of different jets. Frothy blue water gushed out of one, while another created almost gold water that was much warmer. "Wicked!"

"Huh, I don't remember it being this way before," Harry commented. "The towels, chairs, and lamps weren't here when I visited earlier."

"Guess the room adapts or just knew there were more people?" Hermione suggested. "I'll read up on it more when you get my book back to me, Harry."

"Right, thanks, Mione," he nodded.

Ron looked sideways at the pair, then gestured toward Hermione. "Thought you weren't the biggest fan of that nickname?"

Hermione gave a jerky shrug and turned her attention back to the books. "Alright, let's see what we've got." She pulled three out at random, then tossed two to the less academically inclined members of the trio. "Skim the table of contents before you go diving into the text to save time. D'you want highlighters to mark important information, or would you prefer a quill and parchment for notes?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other. "Uh, we'll just read, thanks," Harry answered for them.

"What's a highlighter?" Ron asked curiously.

"Fine, suit yourselves," Hermione muttered as she snatched up a spare quill from her ever-present bag.

After about fifteen minutes, Ron, of all people, announced, "Think I've got something useful here in Water Travel for Novice Wizards and Witches, come and take a look!"

Harry and Hermione moved behind the large armchair Ron had commandeered. He pointed to a picture of what looked like seaweed and read the caption.
"Gillyweed is incredibly useful for relatively short periods of water travel. Though the grass-like plant is native to the Mediterranean Sea, it can easily be stored in any cool, dark environment. When Gillyweed is eaten by a witch or wizard, he or she grows gills and webbing between the fingers and toes, allowing them to easily breathe underwater. Gillyweed also enables the user to swim quickly. The effects of Gillyweed generally hold for about one hour."

"That sounds awesome!" Harry exclaimed. "Any clue where we can get it?"

"I'll contact some of the Diagon Alley potions and plants shops and see if any of them have it in stock," Hermione announced. Surprisingly, she took leave right then and there.

"Hedwig should be in the Owlery, if you want to use her," Harry called.

"Thanks, I'll catch up with you two later. Gotta get some homework done before bed."

Harry frowned. Hermione seemed a bit short with him, in particular, tonight. Ron actually picked up on it.

"Girls, right?" He rolled his eyes. "They're a confusing lot."

"You can say that again," Harry agreed. There was an awkward pause as the two kept pretending to read their respective books. Harry finally broke it.

"Look, Ron, I—"

"If you're going to apologize, you can save it, mate," Ron interrupted. "Sorry I was such a git about Hermione and you being in the tournament in the first place. Fred and George talked a bit of sense into me. If you guys want to be closer, or whatever, I'd be a prat to stop you. If I'd really wanted to be with Hermione, I'd have asked her to the ball at the start. Plus, I know you're not the type to seek glory or whatever crock's been cooked up about this tournament. You just want to have a pretty normal education," Ron finished.

"As normal as a Hogwarts education can be, yeah," Harry added.

Ron laughed. "Very true. Anyway, I reckon I was a bloody idiot for a while there, and I'm sorry." He extended a hand toward Harry to shake. "We're good?"

Harry grinned and accepted the handshake. "Yeah, Ron. Thanks, apology accepted. Sorry I got so pissed at you at the end of the ball, too."

Ron shrugged good-naturedly. "Let's be honest, I had that coming to me. At least Hermione didn't punch me like she did Malfoy last year." As he spoke Hermione's name, a small frown replaced an easy grin. "Speaking of Hermione, you two ok?"

Harry grimaced. "It's kinda weird, and complicated. Gotta deal with stuff after the Second Task, probably. If I try to deal with it before then, I'm just gonna get even more distracted."

"Luna says forgetting to live in the moment can create an unclear future, or something like that," Ron answered.

"What?"

"Dunno, exactly," Ron shrugged. "I still think she's a bit off her rocker, but sometimes she's got good, sound advice if you stop and translate it from Luna to proper English."

The two put their books away and retreated to the common room, Harry couldn't help but smile as he and Ron discussed the Chudley Cannons' remarkably average season and began plotting another elaborate scheme that could get Malfoy kicked out of the school. All was well, at least for an evening.

The good feeling of having Ron back in the trio lasted until Harry came across Hermione at breakfast four days later. She had all the classic signs of "frustrated Hermione." Her normally bushy hair appeared extra unkempt, her face was flushed, and her mouth sat in a thin, rigid line, not unlike Professor McGonagall's did when she detected wrongdoing or laziness.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked as he took an empty spot on the bench across from her

"Nothing!" Hermione's voice went shrilly.

"Really," Harry replied coolly as he put tomatoes on his slices of toast and grabbed a few strips of bacon from a platter. "No offense, Hermione, but I know you better than that. You look a bit put out, to say the least."

"Well, of course I am!" she screeched. "I, uh, I got Hedwig back earlier today, is what happened, and none of the stores I contacted have Gillyweed. Apparently, it's a rather rare substance, and with the Second Task now just a bit over a week away, we'll have to move quickly to get it, or maybe switch gears entirely. There is one option within Hogwarts."

"One option for what?" asked Ron as he joined his friends. Hermione quickly caught him up on the gillyweed situation, then lowered her voice and whispered, "As far as that one option goes, gillyweed is a somewhat common item to have in a Potions classroom."
Ron's skin blanched as if he'd just eaten two or three Puking Pastilles, and Harry was strongly reminded of how his friend reacted when Hagrid told them to "follow the spiders" in the Forbidden Forest.
"We're going to knick stuff off Snape again?" he hissed. "That's like a death wish. One time stealing from him was definitely enough for my seven years here, thanks!"

"In case you've forgotten, I was the one risking my arse that time, Ronald!" Hermione snapped back. She glowered at both Harry and Ron. "Got any better ideas? Actually, wait, I think I've got something, maybe," she continued. Harry recognized the look of a Hermione in a planning stage. Her eyes took on a faraway quality, but they were still focused, somehow. "I don't exactly like making this suggestion, but Harry, maybe you could ask Dobby for help? I'm sure he'd be willing, and to be honest, it seems like Gillyweed is the best option by far for doing whatever task you're given once you go into the lake."

Harry couldn't help but smirk at Hermione. "Wouldn't recruiting a house elf to do my bidding go against the principles of S.P.E.W?"

"Yeah, yeah, make fun of me when I'm coming up with a solution to a problem, I'm used to it," Hermione answered as Ron sniggered. However, her tone was much lighter than it had been just a minute or so before.

"That's honestly a great idea," Harry responded gratefully. "I'll have to get in touch with Dobby later. Thanks, Hermione." He very nearly reached out to squeeze his favorite witch's hand across the table, but stopped just short and made it look like he was reaching for the orange juice instead. This "not dating, but more than friends" thing was still a bit odd, and while dating Hermione would draw a lot of attention on both of them, it would be easier to handle with her, he thought.

"Sorry," Harry mouthed to her across the table. "Talk after the next task? Privately?"

To his immense relief, Hermione answered with a smile and a nod.

"What's the nodding for?" Ron asked.
"Oh, just glad to have gotten a resolution to a challenging situation, that's all." Hermione hummed to herself as she sliced up an orange with vigor.

Harry hoped he could get some more time to consider his relationship with Hermione over the next few days, but it seemed as though everyone in Hogwarts was determined to shift his focus to the Second Task. For good reason, he knew—but that didn't make it any less of a spot of bother. Moody got in on the act once again after a relatively low-key D.A.D.A. class. "Potter," Moody called as students streamed out of the room. "Can I get a minute of your time, please?"

Harry turned to Ron and Hermione, motioning that he'd catch up with them later before returning his attention back to Moody. "What is it, Professor?"

"Jus' wanted to say well done on the first task," Moody grunted. "Can't believe Krum didn't use your plan. Woulda worked a sight better than trying to blind the dragon and angering it, I'd wager." Despite the praise, the ex-Auror still radiated paranoia. "But, you know what I'm gonna tell you anyway, right?"
Harry nodded. "Constant vigilance."

Moody cracked a half grin and returned Harry's nod. "You're a fast learner, Potter. Lesson doesn't always stick that quickly, even for Aurors. Pull up a chair for a second, if you don't mind."

"Sure." Harry grabbed one and perched on the edge of his seat with his back straight. Something about Moody still made him a tad nervous, even though the D.A.D.A. lessons were now a bit tamer and more "by the book," as Hermione put it, than earlier classes.

"So, I take it you know what the second task is, more or less?" Moody asked.
"I had a bit of help getting it figured out," Harry mumbled.

Moody's eyes narrowed a touch. "Look, Potter, I know you've got that Gryffindor pride and honor. You don't wanna be labeled a cheat or anything like that," he continued. "That's respectable. Very good trait to have, integrity. But there's a certain amount of gamesmanship, you might call it, that's always been in this here tournament. You're better off accepting that some 'irregularities' can happen."

"Yeah, I s'pose," Harry shrugged.

"Plus, if anyone deserves a bit o good luck, it's you, lad." Moody wagged a finger in his face for emphasis. "You're at least three years everyone else's junior, and you didn't want to be in this blasted fight in the first place."

Moody did have a point. And it wasn't like Harry was actively trying to cheat, anyway. "Yeah, you're right, Professor," he answered with a nod, hoping that would placate the grizzled man.

"'Preciate that, Potter." Moody gave another one of his lopsided half-smiles. "Now, like I said, I'm not gonna help you cheat or anything unfair like that. But I will say, it wouldn't hurt for you to ask McGonagall for some extra Transfiguration lessons before the next part of the competition."

"Err…okay," Harry replied warily. Transfiguration wasn't exactly his strong suit.

As if reading his mind, Moody went on, "Professors gossip too, it's human nature. I know Transfiguration ain't exactly your best subject. Nor is Potions, but I'd bet a few dozen Galleons that's more a reflection on Snape than you." Harry had to laugh at Moody's comment there. "But, anyway, Transfiguration's one area where the rest o' the field has a pretty big advantage on you. Couldn't hurt to put a dent in that gap." With a sudden jerk, Moody got up out of his chair and ushered Harry to the door, claiming, "Darn papers can't grade themselves." Just before Harry left, however, Moody's voice took on a deathly serious tone. He reached out as if to grab Harry's shoulder, then stopped before saying, "Remember, Potter: play to your strengths. Quick thinking. Improvisation. Transfiguration can get a person outta some tight jams. Take it from an expert."

Harry nodded. "Will do. Thanks, Professor."

"Of course, lad. And sorry to keep you so long. Just figured it wouldn't hurt to chat."

"Where to go next…find McGonagall, or ask Dobby for help?" Harry wondered as he left the D.A.D.A. room. "Dobby should probably be the top priority, seeing as I won't be able to last over a minute in the lake without that gillyweed." He found an empty classroom near the third floor staircase—fortunately, classes were over for the day and everyone was gathering for dinner—and he quickly called, "Dobby!"

The diminutive elf appeared with a loud crack and his usual smile. "Harry Potter called to Dobby, sir?"

"Yes, Dobby." Squatting down to be closer to the elf's height, Harry asked, "Would you be able to get me some gillyweed before the next task in the Triwizard Tournament? I really need it to do whatever it is I'm supposed to do in the lake."

Dobby fired off a snappy salute. "Dobby can complete this task easily, sir!"

A wave of relief rushed over Harry, and he gave the elf a bright smile. "Great, thank you so much. Umm, please just be careful and quiet about finding the stuff."

"Dobby will be even quieter than he was when Mister Malfoy beat him with a sauce pan, Harry Potter!"

Harry frowned at the elf's tale of abuse, and actually felt a twinge of sympathy for Draco, then responded, "That's good, I don't want you getting in trouble on my behalf, Dobby."

"How shall Dobby get the Gillyweed back to you, sir?" the elf asked.

Harry's frowned deepened. "Hmm. I hadn't thought of that. Uhh…oh, wait, here we go!" Grinning at the old memory from second year when he'd freed Dobby, Harry yanked off a shoe, then removed a sock. "You can put the Gillyweed in here, then put the sock in my drawer. It'll look like you're cleaning," Harry explained.

Dobby nodded. "That is a good plan, Harry Potter. I will go to do this task soon."

"Thank you again, Dobby, you honestly don't know how helpful this will be," Harry answered, shaking his head in amazement at the elf's kindness.

(Well, non-life-threatening kindness might be a better term, given the Whomping Willow and possessed Bludger incidents, but still.)

"It is a pleasure to help Harry Potter in any way Dobby can, sir!" the elf squeaked, and with another violent crack, he Disapparated.

Pleased that he'd made some progress, both expected and unexpected, in preparing for the Second Task, Harry found Ron, Hermione, and Ginny near the back of the Great Hall during the dinner rush. Ron looked at Harry as if he'd been struck by a love potion and called loudly, "Oy, mate! Where you been? Dinner started a good 15 minutes ago, get over here!"

"Hello to you too, Ron," Harry laughed as he helped himself to a lamb burger with Greek seasoning and a side of steamed vegetables.
"Oh, don't spoil the fun," Ginny giggled. "Hermione and I have been having a lovely chat with Ronald about a certain lady friend who shall remain nameless."

Ron's face more or less matched the color of his hair. "Can't a man enjoy a meal in peace in this castle?" he muttered as he applied butter to a roll with more force than was necessary.

Harry considered piling on, but didn't want to cause a scene. "Not to mention, Ron would probably retaliate and do it to me sometime soon if I didn't bail him out here," Harry reasoned. "Let Ron have his dinner," he cajoled the two ladies. "Hogwarts food should be respected and savored."

Ron let out a mighty belch, followed it with a swig of pumpkin juice, and proclaimed, "Hear, hear!"

"Merlin, you're gross." Ginny stuck out her tongue at Ron.

Judging by Hermione's clouded expression, Harry guessed she wanted to make a "slave labor" comment about the decadent meals. However, her face brightened when she saw a vanilla and chocolate pudding on display for dessert.

"So, why were you late, anyway?" Hermione asked.

"Talked to Dobby about running that errand," he responded after taking a few bites out of his burger. "Moody kept me for a bit more time than I thought he would after Defense class, too. Talked about how I handled the dragon, sorta threw out some ideas about the next task, as well."

"Oh?" Hermione's eyebrows shot up.

"He's not helping me cheat or anything," Harry answered, stung by his friend's somewhat cool attitude toward Moody, and the implication of her reaction. "He's just giving me some suggestions."

"Yes, but has he done that for Cedric or the other competitors?" Hermione pushed the issue further.

"I don't really know, Hermione!" Harry retorted with a bit of fire in his voice. "It's not like Moody's telling me exactly what's going to happen or what to expect, just giving me general advice on things to practice, ways to expand my skillset to give myself a better chance of staying in the tournament. To be honest, I could use it, considering everyone else has learned a good deal more magic than I have."

Ron quickly spooned some baby peas onto his plate, salted them, and gulped some down.

"Yes, but you're not trying to win, are you?" Hermione challenged.

Ginny had suddenly decided to follow Ron's suit and was inhaling the remainder of her steak to avoid entering the fray.

Harry only just resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her, but there was a bite in his words. "Not really, no, but if I throw the thing I get kicked out, you know that! Plus, me being shite at certain fields of magic compared to the other three and not knowing extra spells would probably be a good recipe to get myself offed, wouldn't you agree?"

Hermione opened and closed her mouth several times, and Harry knew he'd gone a bit too far.

"Harry Potter, I can't believe you'd even dare think for a second that I'm not completely concerned about your safety in this damn tournament!" Her voice shook at the end of the sentence, and she grabbed up her books and stormed off before Harry could say another word.

"Whoopsies," Ron stage whispered.

Harry glared at him, but sighed after a pause. "Yeah, okay, I screwed up. But still, you guys don't think it's too crazy that I'm okay with Moody giving me some ideas on extra things to study or review?"

"No, not really," Ginny conceded. "I get where you're coming from, and I know Moody wouldn't cheat or try and bend the rules in your favor or anything. Like you said, general advice seems pretty reasonable. But this is Hermione we're talking about."

"She's as much of a straight shooter as anyone," Ron added. "Those high morals are a bit infuriating sometimes, if I'm being completely honest, but that's just part of what makes her Hermione."

"Yeah," Harry sighed again. "Guess I'll have to go apologize before the Second Task."

Unfortunately, between school work and a few impromptu Transfiguration refreshers with McGonagall, Harry had hardly any free time at all over the next week. He also had the distinct feeling that Hermione was avoiding him, which simultaneously evoked sadness and frustration. Finally, two evenings before the task, Harry decided to do something so cheesy it almost hurt: write Hermione a letter.

"This is the rubbish they come up with in romantic comedies," he thought despairingly. "Okay, don't reflect on how pathetic this is. I can sort through my thoughts and hopefully come up with something not awful. If anything, at least it'll be a nice gesture…? And it will at least remind Hermione of how much I care for her as a friend."

Trying to cast his doubt aside, and spurred on by a desire to keep his favorite witch in his life in some capacity, Harry began writing.

Dear Hermione,

I'm sorry I was such an idiot a few nights ago, and I wish I could be telling you this in person, but I know we've both been busy. You deserve an apology, though. I know you'd never want me to get hurt or anything, and you're trying to look out for me.

I think the thing that irritates me the most when you think I'm wrong is that, weird as it sounds, you're almost like a conscience of sorts to me. Whenever I'm going to do something reckless or impulsive, your voice is the one that tells me to rethink my decision. I guess I'm trying to say I don't want to let you down. You're great, and I want to live up to your standards. Be someone you respect, you could say.

Basically, all this is to say, I think you're wonderful, Hermione. I always know that, even if I don't go about showing it the right way, and I know I'll get through this task and the rest of the tournament because I've got you in my corner.

Harry paused, unsure how to end it. A "sincerely" or just a dash followed by his name felt too small, too unimportant.

He settled on:

All the best for the best,
Harry

His trip to the Owlery confused Hedwig, to say the least.

"Take this to Hermione's room, please," he requested as he secured the letter in her travel pouch.

Hedwig hooted once and tilted her head in the direction of the girls' dormitory.

"Yes, exactly," Harry answered.

Another hoot.

"Yes, I'm sure that's where I want it to go."

Hedwig finally took off, though with a tad more hesitation than normal.

With his final and perhaps most important chore done for the day, Harry beat a hasty retreat to his bed in Gryffindor Tower. With the Second Task only two days away now, he needed all the sleep he could get.