Chapter Eight

Hermione squeezed her hands between her knees – Harry had just entered the maze. She knew it was ridiculous to be nervous – it certainly wasn't as if Harry had never dealt with magical challenges before; he'd taken on a dragon for heaven's sake!

But… still. Hermione knew she'd be infinitely happier when Harry was safely out of the maze and this whole tournament was over and done with. She'd never anticipated that it would cause so much trouble, or throw up so many difficult feelings. She'd spent the last few weeks tossing the question of Bulgaria around in her mind; it had taken a long time to summon up the courage to tell Viktor she wasn't going to go.

He was just so nice – Hermione thought he might well be the nicest person she'd ever met, even if he could never say her name properly. It was just…he bored her. There was no getting around the bare fact of the matter – Viktor was lovely, but it was so hard to keep a simple conversation going, and then there was…Ron.

Every time she was with Viktor she couldn't help but compare him to her best friend; he didn't make her laugh, or tease her, or deliberately start arguments with her just for the fun of it, or yank her away from her schoolbooks and insist that she improve her chess technique by letting him beat her. He just wasn't Ron.

And that might have been fine, if they'd only been having fun, going on the occasional trip to Hogsmeade and stealing kisses – Hermione had to admit, she liked being kissed by Viktor, even if it did make her nervous sometimes. He was so much older, and she was never entirely sure of herself when it came to kissing him – what might he expect? Of course, he was a perfect gentleman and all that, and he seemed to feel something genuine for her, but… He still wasn't Ron.

Perhaps, though, in retrospect, telling him the day of the final task had been unnecessarily cruel. At the least it had added to her already strong sense guilt at not liking him back – Hermione didn't want to assume it had affected his concentration, if only because she didn't want it to be her fault if he came out battered and bruised.

Ron was arguing with the twins just behind her, and Hermione realised with a jolt that she was squeezing her hands so hard she was actually hurting herself. Shaking her head, she unclenched her knees, slipping her arms around her waist instead. They'd been in the maze for at least ten minutes already.

Hermione was about to start chewing on her fingernails, when Ginny joined her. She'd been sitting with her Mum, but Mrs Weasley had got involved in mediating the dispute between her sons. Ginny sat down with a grin. "Feeling okay?" she asked sympathetically.

Hermione snorted. "If I say no, will you laugh at me?"

Ginny shook her head. "No; I've been through this before remember – the second task."

"It was like this?"

Ginny shrugged. "Worse, I think…'cause it was you and Ron and Harry, under water."

Hermione sighed; she didn't see why it had to take so long. Ginny nudged her with a shoulder and said, "Lean in a bit."

"Why?"

"I've something to tell you," Ginny muttered, "And I don't want the twins to hear."

Hermione couldn't quite restrain a knowing smile, and Ginny blushed. Shoving her hair over one shoulder, Hermione leaned close and said, "So?"

Ginny's face was shining, and she said, "Michael kissed me."

Hermione couldn't help herself – she clapped her hands, burbling, "I'm so happy for you, Ginny! When did it happen – was it good?"

Ginny kept nodding her head as she said, "About a week ago…"

"A week ago!" Hermione squealed, unable to contain her displeasure. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Ginny stared at her. "You've been a bit hard to find Hermione – and I wasn't exactly going to tell you in front of Ron…or Harry."

"Oh, of course. Sorry, it's just…"

"I know – it's fine. I imagine life can be hard when your best friend's a Champion."

Hermione sighed. "You have no idea."

For a moment she thought she saw an odd expression cloud Ginny's face, but the impression was gone almost before it registered. Hermione dragged her mind back to the subject at hand, barely registering the announcement that Fleur had withdrawn from the competition as she said, "So, was it...?"

Ginny nodded. "Yeah – it was. I mean, I always thought the tongue thing sounded kind of disgusting but actually…"

"Ginny!"

"What?"

"You can't talk about it…like that."

Ginny looked confused. "Why not?"

"Because it's not…nice." Even as she said it Hermione knew it was a feeble excuse.

Ginny shrugged, lifting her chin defiantly. "I don't see why not," she said, "I mean, it happens, doesn't it? I mean, Viktor does, right?"

Hermione felt as if her face might melt, she was so embarrassed, "Yes, he does, I just… don't want to talk about it. It's private."

Ginny's face was blank. "But, why?" she said, "Me and Louise and Jules talk about this stuff all the time – how else would we learn?"

"Learn what? It's just kissing!"

"There's no need to get angry. I mean, didn't you ever wonder about where your noses would go, and what if he wears glasses...?" Ginny seemed to catch herself upon these words, and continued briskly, "Or is a lot taller, or has, I don't know, a beard or something."

Hermione stared. "Not really – maybe a little, but… it just feels strange to talk about it."

Ginny looked at her, something vaguely pitying in her gaze, and said, "Hermione all your friends are boys – one of whom hasn't realised yet that you're his future wife, and…Harry thinks you're his big sister."

Hermione felt something warm spurt in her heart at the second thing – she knew the first was outright nonsense – and said, "Do you really think so?"

"Of course I do – I think it's really great – some people can never be friends with the opposite sex. Like Charlie – I don't think he's ever had a female friend in his life."

Hermione stared out at the maze, just in time to see something shoot up into the sky. Still trying to figure out what it was, she said, "So, was it just a kiss, or…"

Ginny nodded sharply. "We're going out together – he asked me yesterday. But you mustn't tell Ron – he'll…lose it completely."

Distracted, Hermione said, "I won't… I broke up with Viktor today. Do you think the Cup's a Portkey?"

"Why?"

"Well, I just saw something that I think…maybe…"

"Why'd you break it off with him, Hermione?" Ginny said, a trifle impatiently.

"It just wasn't…anything really. Don't tell me you didn't see it coming… It doesn't make any sense, Ginny – Harry never said anything about…"

"Maybe he didn't know?" Ginny offered hopefully, though Hermione could see she was beginning to feel nervous as well. Dumbledore and McGonagall were engaged in a conference below, and Hermione thought their expressions were rather foreboding.

Gradually, her unease seemed to spread throughout the stands, as more people became aware that everything hadn't gone to plan. By the time the Portkey flashed back down to the ground, all of them were standing up, and Hermione couldn't help but whisper, "Something's not right, something's gone wrong."

She saw Moody walking away from the pitch with someone in tow, a short dark-haired someone, as a sudden cry went up around the stands. Hermione saw Mrs Weasley blanche, as someone in front of them said that one of the Champions had been killed.

Fear seized her own gut as Ginny gasped, and said, "It's not him, Hermione, it can't be him."

She hardly heard herself speak, thinking 'Harry, Harry', over and over again. "We have to get down from here."

It took them nearly fifteen minutes to get down, and Professor Flitwick was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. Hermione shrank back against Ron when she saw the look on his face, but he spoke quickly, guiding them up to the castle. "Mr Potter is…fine; he's on his way to the hospital wing."

Ginny asked the question on all their minds. "Sir, what happened?"

Flitwick shook his head, looking suddenly much older than before, and said, "Mr Diggory is dead – that is all we know."

Ginny gave another little gasp, and Hermione saw her screw up her mouth in an attempt to control tears, as Flitwick said, "Miss Granger, Mr Weasley, if you could accompany me? And Dumbledore asked for you, Molly, and Bill."

Hermione didn't want to think about what all this meant, about Cedric Diggory, brave, kind Cedric Diggory being dead, but she trotted after Flitwick as quickly as possible. Ginny followed her, and Hermione was about to tell her to go back to the dormitory, when Ginny said, "Should I get his things?"

"What?"

"I don't know…a toothbrush, pyjamas? I have to do something, Hermione."

"Okay – Dean or Neville or someone will know."

Ginny nodded, tears leaving sticky marks on her cheeks, "And you'll tell me; if anything…if he's all right?"

"Of course I will."

And with that Ginny broke into a run, racing for Gryffindor tower like a woman possessed.