Disclaimer: I hold no claims to Harry Potter.

Chapter 2

"Damn it!

"Language!" two female voices chastised in unison.

"I've been trying for over an hour and nothing!"

It was a week after their first lesson with McGonagall and they had moved on to Transfiguration after they had become proficient enough in summoning and banishing charms. McGonagall planned on teaching them some advanced DADA spells they weren't going to learn until later including how to produce a shield. Harry had brightened up at that, eager to learn from McGonagall, which charged his desire to work to get through Transfiguration.

If only it was that simple.

They were working on turning inanimate objects into animals, working smaller and gradually getting bigger and bigger. McGonagall had told them to transfigure a a sculpture of a bird into an actual bird, which was easier said than done, at least, to Harry it was.

He had a grey sculpture of an owl in front of him and all that he had managed to accomplish was his sculpture sprouting feathers in the last hour and a half of working.

He looked over at Hermione's cooing dove and huffed in irritation at himself, and maybe some jealousy. It had even flown around the room before landing on her arm. He knew that jealousy was a dangerous emotion, look what it did to his and Ron's friendship, but he couldn't help but feel a little green with envy.

How in Merlin's name did it come so easy to her? Everything Hermione set her mind to, she eventually succeeded and didn't throw in the towel if it didn't work out right away. Maybe he really should have spent more time working with her instead of fooling around with Ron. He could see now who was going to stand with him through tribulation.

"Did you try my advice?" Hermione asked, seeing the difficulty Harry was going through. She didn't want to say, 'I told you so,' about him not wanting to study with her, so she held her tongue. That was the last thing Harry needed, more condescension and she wouldn't do that to him.

"Yes, but it's not working," he sighed exasperated, running his hands through his hair and slightly pulling. Hermione had a more text-book approach to transfiguration from the amount of time she spent studying the actual book. She set directions, remembering all the universal laws by heart and followed the them carefully and with rapt attention. It worked well for her, but Harry found this approach a bit tedious, though he tried it nonetheless.

"Hmm…" Hermione hummed as she thought. Her dove was sitting on her desk, letting Hermione pet its head as she it looked around curiously. "We have to find a method that works for you."

Professor McGonagall was on her way over. She was a bit out of her element with a Potter boy not having an immediate penchant for her class. James sometimes taught her a few things about the subject. The boy didn't inherit his father's transfiguring talent, though he definitely acquired some of his mother's in charms.

"Your father used to imagine the object blurring until it was transformed into the object he needed. Why don't you try that method?" McGonagall suggested.

For another half an hour, he tried this technique, to no avail. His frustration with not being able to achieve it was threatening to take him over and was hindering his work. He had accepted that he wasn't academically inept, or he had it programmed into his head since a better grade on a test than Duddykins meant an elongated sentence in the cupboard, sans food and water. Now that he was actually trying, and not succeeding, it was hard.

"You just have to find your own technique. One that works for you. Think about it overnight and we'll try again tomorrow," McGonagall said, dismissing them for the day. She saw the inner struggle that Harry was battling and continuing on while he was in this state would not help matters. Frustration and concentration do not mix, it messes with your psyche when you cannot accomplish something, that little voice whispering in your head that you cannot do it. She could see that the voice was practically shouting it in Harry's ear.

"Goodbye, Professor," Harry and Hermione called as they gathered their things and walked out of the classroom.

"You know, I'm really regretting not taking up your offer to study in the past," Harry said as he and Hermione walked. "Maybe then I would be able to do this by now."

"Don't be discouraged, Harry," Hermione said, rubbing his arm and offering some comfort. "You saw how amazing you are with charms, you just need to focus yourself like you do then. You'll get it."

"Thanks, Hermione."

"Come on, we'll grab some food and have a private dinner. You can practice your aim with banishing," she said, Harry smiling at both her and her suggestion. He really enjoyed charms, and he never realized how much until he saw that he was quite good at it. Again, he never really paid attention in class, but he was happy that he was now.

They both filled up their plates with some food and made their way to a random classroom to eat in comfortable and companionable silence. The silence was welcomed, better than the whispers about Harry being a cheater and a glory hound.

When they were done, Hermione glanced over to Harry, a bit hesitant. "Do you want to keep practicing?"

Honestly? No, he didn't. Should he? Yes, he shoulder, so he nodded. It was worth it seeing the smile on Hermione face. She seemed to 'come alive' a bit more each day that they continued lessons with McGonagall. Hermione was a passionate girl and sometimes wore her heart on her sleeve. It was imperceptible to everyone but him how closed up she was before this, maybe as a guard against hurtful words. To see her 'let go' and show how ardent she was about knowledge was really heart-warming.

To know that she trusted him enough to show this side of her made him feel really good.

"You're doing great, Harry. I'm so proud of you," Hermione commented as they walked back to the Gryffindor tower, not before dropping their plates off in the Great Hall. They had practiced for over an hour and he was able to banish with better precision, which was encouraging that he would also eventually succeed in Transfiguration, too.

Harry, a bit sheepishly, smiled at his best friend's praise. He wasn't really used to it, and if he was honest, he liked it. Yes, he was always praised for doing good in Quidditch or something along those lines, but to hear he was doing good in spellwork was stimulating.

Hearing the words "I'm so proud of you," was like music to his ears. It was something he had never heard from anyone before, something he thought that maybe he would hear from his parents for any accomplishment. Hearing from Hermione - the brightest witch of their age - made it even sweeter and he couldn't help but smile at the excited look on her face.

It also made him question - was this how she felt whenever she got a spell before anyone else, or received the highest grade on the test? He and Ron figured they could never understand why she was so excited about schoolwork, and even teased her for it a bit, but now he understood. He vowed to never tease Hermione again - in a derogatory manner - about her passion for to her was like Quidditch to him.

"Thanks, Hermione," he said, a small blush coloring his cheeks.

"Your aim is a lot better, as is your control," she said, before sighing, "I wish I had some of your power."

"You heard McGonagall, you just have to find an outlet to channel your magic to and then you can generate more power behind the spell. I'm sure you'll master it by the end of the week," he said, knowing full well that she was going to go crazy until she succeeded.

"I don't know, everything in the book comes easy to me and I can memorize it, but actually putting it into action - some of it gets lost in translation," she then slyly smiled at him, "You, however...everything just comes naturally to you."

Harry shrugged, not exactly used to receiving all of this praise. It made him feel...strange. Not bad, per se, just different. "You know, I really couldn't have done this without you."

"What do you mean? McGonagall is helping us, remember? I'm just reaping the benefits of extra lessons," she smiled to show she was teasing.

"No," he shook his head, laying a hand on her shoulder and pulling her to a stop, his expression almost severe. "I don't mean with just the lessons, I mean sticking by me and believing my word. I realize that I never really did that in the past, and you're doing it now. Means more than you can ever know."

He wondered where these emotional words were coming from since he was never one to outwardly show it before. He bottled things up, figuring it was better that way. Maybe, he just didn't want to bottle things up anymore, and who better a person to share these things with than Hermione.

"I'm always going to do whatever I can to look out for you, Harry. Even when you don't want me to," she smiled, referring to the broomstick incident last year. Harry felt a brief stab of guilt, but Hermione immediately locked that down. "No. No guilt."

"Can't help it," he mumbled. He was almost trained to feel guilty for things he shouldn't, part of his experience at the Dursleys, but he knew that he should feel a bit for last year, though. "I just feel bad because the friend whose side I took isn't here right now, not that I particularly want him to, but I wish that I could back time. I'd pick the right side."

Hermione sighed out of exasperation, "What did I say? You already have my forgiveness, though there's nothing to forgive. I'm always going to be here for you, Harry and I'll support every decision you make, unless it puts you in danger. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe."

"Thanks, Hermione," she smiled and moved toward him, pulling him into a gentle hug. As expected, to both parties, Harry froze up upon contact, before gradually relaxing his body and loosely placing his hands on her back. If he was honest, he needed this contact. It was really just another way to say, 'I'm here for you, and I'm not going anywhere.' To know that someone was looking out for his safety was like a balm over a burn. He felt almost lighter as he climbed into his bed.

It was two smiling teenagers that went to bed that night.

"Hey, Potter, look at the buttons!"

The day started well enough. Harry woke up well rested, Ron wasn't in the dorm to shoot him glares, Hermione greeted him in the common room with a smile that made him feel even better than he did, everything was going well.

They were chatting pleasantly about everything and nothing as they walked to the Great Hall for breakfast, but stopped and turned to the voice that called. It was a couple of fifth year Ravenclaws laughing who pointing to buttons they adorned on their clothes. Upon closer inspection, he saw that they said, 'Support Cedric Diggory, the true Hogwarts Champion.' Confused as to why he would care, the words then changed to, 'Potter Stinks!'

"'Potter Stinks'...creative," Harry snorted as they continued their way down the corridor, seeing that mostly everyone they passed were wearing the buttons and snickering. Hermione just shot them the fiercest glares she could muster, before turning to her thoroughly agitated best friend.

They realized that a quiet and peaceful breakfast was going to be too much to ask for when everyone kept calling out for Harry to look at their buttons. Hermione saw his face flushing red, though more out of exasperation than embarrassment and quickly grabbed some toast and bacon for them to eat somewhere private.

"Just ignore them, Harry," Hermione said, trying to offer some semblance of comfort. It missed its mark as his jaw set even tighter, his eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flared.

"I can't ignore them if they're everywhere I turn," he spat, turning to Hermione with a pointed look.

Everyone was staring at Harry and Hermione, pointing and laughing, their buttons proudly displayed on their robes. Hermione frowned, remembering her primary school days and the mockery that accompanied it. It had never been this bad before, even through the Harry is the Heir of Slytherin nonsense in second year. It hurt to be an outcast, it hurt even worse to hear the names that they call you. She sympathized with Harry and she was determined to give him something she never had back then - the support of a friend.

"The maturity of magicals staggers me," she grumbled as they had to push through a group of Hufflepuffs who were blocking their way, proudly wearing their buttons and snickering like idiots. "Honestly! The teachers have to have seen them, why aren't they doing anything?"

"They probably agree with them. I wonder if maybe some of them are wearing the buttons under their robes," Harry muttered as they walked outside, making their way toward the Lake. Hermione glanced at Harry, a bit worried. It seemed that Harry's cynicism had grown more and more each year. Not that she particularly blamed him, just the situations he had been forced into.

They found an empty classroom and Hermione cast the locking charm on the door, before they took a seat at a pair of desks to eat in silence. The buttons were just another dark cloud, reminding them that it was Harry vs. the majority of Hogwarts.

His green eyes glanced up to Hermione's warm and caring brown ones, and he offered a small smile. Well, it was Harry and Hermione vs. the majority of Hogwarts. Somehow that made him feel a bit better.

Minerva McGonagall had certainly seen the buttons, and was not a happy witch. Oh, she had an idea of who the culprit was that made them and was itching at the bone to, at the very least, assign him detention. The buttons displaying 'Potter Stinks', did not amuse her, at all.

She briskly made her way to the Headmaster's office and practically growled the password, before storming in. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk and glanced up to his irate Deputy Head. "Minerva, are you alright?"

"Albus, have you seen what the children are wearing?"

"Unfortunately, I have," he nodded with a weary sigh and folded his hands in front of him, "I think that it will be a good lesson for him," Dumbledore said.

Minerva had to blink a couple of times to process what he had just said. A good lesson? What else would it teach him besides that he was shunned by majority of the school who were talking behind his back. "Please, tell me how he would learn from this?"

"To ignore the word of others who try to hurt him, to keep a cool head in the face of adversity, to-"

She angrily cut him off, "If anything, this will make him blow up! He already had enough to worry about, you place the burden of bullies over that, I'm afraid the boy might collapse."

"Mr. Potter is strong. He was able to get persevere through a similar situation in second year, he will persevere through this one."

"He's lost friends over this tournament, Albus. The only ones truly on his side are Miss Granger and a handful of Gryffindors. The rest of the school hates him and are wearing buttons supporting the hate," she snapped, before taking a deep breath to regain her composure.

She respected the Headmaster. He was the one who taught her all the she knew in Transfiguration, she had never questioned him before, but now she was 'seeing the light'. He was a great leader, one of the most intelligent people she had ever met, but he didn't see the forest for the trees. His greater good was more important and sometimes even the greatest leaders needed to be put in their place.

"I'm pulling rank as Deputy Headmistress and will assign the appropriate punishments for those who are wearing these, as well as Draco Malfoy, who is distributing them."

"Minerva, I-"

She didn't want to hear anymore condescending or placating words, "You placed me in charge of assigning punishments and I freely, and shamefully, admit that I abused it in the past. I'm trying to make this right," she said before turning around and walking out of the office, leaving the old Headmaster to his thoughts.

He wanted Harry to rise above all the hate he would receive, but was that really the answer. He had been through the same thing back in second year when all the students thought he was the heir of Slytherin, and he did rise above. Mainly, because of his friends. Now, he only had Miss Granger and Minerva who truly believed he did not enter the tournament.

Maybe he really was going about the wrong way.

McGonagall strode down the hallway, before seeing a laughing duo walking together, buttons on their robes.

"Miss Abbott, Mr. Macmillian," she called, both students turning toward their Deputy Headmistress, who motioned them over. She tapped the badge on Ernie's robes, "Where did you get these?"

"Er...Draco Malfoy." Hannah said, sharing an uneasy glance with Ernie about the other saying on it.. None of the other teachers even cared about the buttons, even when they had showed the other saying.

"Mhm," McGonagall hummed, before tapping her wand and switching the display to the derogatory saying about Harry. "And you actually bought this rubbish?"

"But, professor, Potter cheated," Ernie protested, McGonagall raising an eyebrow. "We are trying to support our Housemate. Potter is just a glory hound who can't let someone have the spotlight for once, Cedric is the real champion."

McGonagall narrowed her green eyes, "You can support the champion of your choosing without shunning and bullying the other one!" McGonagall said, before holding out her hands. "Give them to me."

The two Hufflepuffs removed the buttons and handed them to their Deputy Head, who shook her head in disappointment. She knew that the Hufflepuffs were known for their hard work and loyalty, but apparently they were only loyal to each other, not caring about the rest of the school. She supposed it was from their bad reputation of being known as the dumping ground for squibs and duffers, but this was not the way to handle it.

"Harry Potter did not put his name in that Goblet," McGonagall stated, her voice stern. "If you two used your brains, you would realize that. In fact, you'll have time to mull it over in detention tonight with Filch."

The two students sputtered for a couple of seconds in shock, "But, that's so unfair!" Hannah exclaimed, Ernie's face flushing in anger.

"Oh, don't worry. All the others wearing these will be joining you," McGonagall said, before sending them on their way to class. She glanced down at the button, still displaying 'Potter Stinks' and shook her head in disappointment. She strode down the hallway and entered the Great Hall, not surprised to see her two cubs missing. She knew that they had probably seen them and hoped that Hermione was helping keep him calm. She shuddered to think the result of the magical backlash if his control was snapped.

Everyone in the Great Hall was enjoying a nice meal, chatting amongst themselves. She saw the Beauxbatons students integrating with the Ravenclaws while the Durmstrang students were right at home with the Snakes. School unity, except for Harry, and Hermione in correspondence.

"Everyone wearing the buttons supporting, please stand," McGonagall started out pleasant, as if she was going to commend them. She watched as more than half of the school stood up, "Please walk to the front."

They all shared the same uneasy glances that Macmillian and Abbott did and looked like they were about to sit back down or maybe make a run for it, but they had already stood up and everyone would see.

"You should all be ashamed of yourselves! Take those off and give them to me along with your name and House," she said, quickly charming a quill to write the names of the students as they said them. She watched as each student had different reactions - petulance, anger, shame, etc. Maybe cleaning the castle the muggle way would make them think twice about

"Don't even think about it, Mr. Malfoy!" she said, watching as the Slytherin tried to discreetly exit the Great Hall. She silently cast a petrificus on him and his cronies, shaking her head in annoyance.

If she had to assign detention to half of the school to rectify this, then she would. To protect Harry, the boy she failed too many times.

Harry was pleasantly surprised and pleased to hear that everyone wearing the buttons were being assigned detentions. Finally, like prayers had been answered, McGonagall was finally taking charge and helping, instead of just bowing to the Headmaster. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration, but she was less than helpful in the past.

Harry smirked as he saw the bane of his existence walk down the hallway, looking all manners of unkempt from his detention. "Potter," he spat as soon as he caught sight of him. "This is all your fault."

"Malfoy. Have fun cleaning the loos?" Harry snarked, allowing a small smirk to appear on his lips. Malfoy turned a interesting shade of puce which he was sure Vernon might be jealous of.

"You just had to tattle, didn't you. Too much a ponce to defend yourself, you had to run to McGonagall. No wonder my father predicts that you'll die within five minutes of the tournament."

The word of Lucius Malfoy was less than that of a flobberworm's in Harry's eyes so instead of responding to the git, he just rolled his eyes and walked around him.

"Or was it your pet mudblood who told?"

The effect was immediate as those words stopped Harry in his tracks. He turned to face Malfoy's smirking face, his face completely void of emotion, his insides churning with fiery anger. They could talk about him, he decided that he couldn't find it in him to care anymore, but not Hermione. Never Hermione.

It was then he realized that they weren't just going to go after him, they were also going to go after her. She would be targeted as well, only because she was friends with him.

Harry turned around to face him and raised an eyebrow while discreetly palming his wand, "Do you want to repeat that?"

"I said, did you pet mudbloo-"

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. The thorn in his side since day one laid a good way down the hall, gasping for breath.

The Gryffindor smirked. Hermione was right - shocker - he was getting good at banishing with precision. He calmly strode over to the coughing Slytherin, who had lost his breath as his back impacted the floor. Harry slowly, but deliberately crouched down and grasped Malfoy's chin, bringing their faces nose to nose. The fear that was plain to see on Malfoy's face gave Harry a morbid thrill like pleasurable electric shocks jolt his body.

"Just a little taste," he growled, increasing the pressure of his grip until Malfoy whimpered, "of what will happen the next time that foul word passes from your lips and I hear about it. Don't you ever use that word again, especially if it's in regards to Hermione. She's worth a million of you and I'll make sure you know it if we have to meet this way again."

Harry felt superior, for the first time in his life, as he looked at the cowering and whimpering form of his and his friend's tormentor. Four years of repressed hate against this worm and memories of him tormenting Hermione went to the forefront of his brain. He could feel the magic cackling around him in response, but he wasn't going to use it. Just to add insult to injury, and possibly just to spite him in a 'filthy muggle' way, he spat right in his face.

It felt good to watch Malfoy's face twist in disgust as his saliva dripped from his cheek. Malfoy was lower than dirt in his eyes and if that made Harry a hypocrite, or even put him on Malfoy's snivelling level - so be it. He deserved every bit of hate Harry could throw his way.

Harry grabbed the Slytherin's wand out of his pocket and threw it down the corridor, just to be sure the coward didn't try to curse him behind his back. Throwing the git's head back, he quickly strode away from Malfoy, almost an arrogant swagger in his step.

'That felt incredible,' he thought with a smug smirk, before he realized what he was doing. A smirk? He never smirked, well, he never did before. A smirk was cruel and cocky and seemed to be permanently plastered on Malfoy's face.

Even though his brain was running on overdrive, he was somehow able to navigate himself back to the Gryffindor tower where he made it up to his dorm. He laid down on his bed and pulled the curtains tight before casting silencing charms on them.

He laid there, staring at the top of his curtains, breathing deeply.

Harry felt almost as if he had an out of body experience and his subconscious had just returned to his body. He was able to think about what he just did and was having mixed emotions about it. He had never really lashed out like that before, and it scared him, especially the arrogant feeling that followed. His emotions were changing too quickly raging anger to confusion to almost remorse so quickly. He felt out of control.

He knew from the lessons with McGonagall that he over average in power and needed to control it, but he never expected to ever use it on a person before, unless it was life or death. It wasn't, it was just Malfoy, who ran his mouth because he could and because he liked the sound of his own voice.

Then he thought about the trigger to the violence he just committed - Hermione. If it was just a couple of words that made Harry react like that, what could actions against her make him do.

No doubt she was going to receive backlash, not only because she was supporting him in this tournament, but because she was muggleborn and supporting him. Maybe those who never really paid any mind to it would take notice and start saying the m-word or worse. What if they tried to physically hurt her.

Hermione was a strong witch, she knew more spells than he could even comprehend, but if she was against a group of people wanting to harm her, they could very well succeed. And he had no idea what he would do if they did.

That thought scared him, scenes flashed across his eyes of someone hurting her and them him going ballistic, losing control, bodies lying on the ground if he lost if he had banished Malfoy too far, right into the wall or over the edge of a staircase and he snapped his neck. Madam Pomfrey and regrow a bone, but he would be dead before she could help him. No matter how much of a prick Malfoy was, the guilt of his death would weigh heavily on his heart.

He most definitely didn't want to kill anyone, especially over something as trivial as hurtful words. Harry knew he would protect Hermione, at all costs, and that scared him. How far he would go for her, who he would hurt if she had been hurt, what he would do in retaliation.

He felt himself shaking as the adrenaline from the confrontation left his system, and his stomach rebelled. He laid in his bed with his eyes closed, trying to not regurgitate his food. After about fifteen minutes, the jelly feeling was taking place in his body from the shakes and his stomach felt fine.

Distance. Would that keep her safe? If he stepped back and showed everyone that they weren't friends, that she was on their side, that she wasn't a target. Would that keep her safe? Hermione's safety was the most important thing to him, hell he protected her against a troll in first year and at that time, they weren't even friends.

He felt like he was being repeatedly kicked in the gut, thinking about distancing himself from Hermione. She was a constant, she was his logic, she was his rock, she kept him sane. But, he had to give her up. He was toxic, everyone and everything that he even came in close distance with hurt. All he left was destruction in his wake.

'Tomorrow, I'll start making things right,' he thought the swooping feeling in his gut and the logical protestations in his head being ignored.