Chapter 10

Viktor Krum took a deep breath of fresh air.

It would be his last breath, since they would soon be submerged to start their journey to this Hogwarts place. Though there were spells to keep the air purified it wouldn't be fresh. It would become rather stale, in fact, by the time they could finally remove the bubble charm from the ship.

And they'd have to crew the ship themselves.

Viktor had taken trips on the ship before, and he had enjoyed them. Not as much as he enjoyed flying- mostly because he really wasn't any good when it came to climbing the rigging.

His parents had said goodbye to him the previous day, along with all the other potential champions' parents. Headmaster Karkaroff had offered to let them stay longer, but Viktor had vehemently opposed such a thing. He hated the fact that the man doted on him for his fame and gave him priviliges none of the others had.

He hadn't really had any type of ego problems since he'd joined the National Quidditch Team- thanks to his parents and their strict parenting style.

Karkaroff's favouritism made him feel uncomfortable.

"Hey- Viktor. Help me get these barrels secured in the cargo hold." One of the other boys called to him.

"Alright. I'm coming." Viktor waved at him.

"Ah, now, there's no need Viktor..." Karkaroff simpered at him. Viktor merely gave him a respectful nod.

"It's no trouble sir." And then he was off to the other boy's side.

"That man fawns over you like you're a newly born krupp puppy!" The boy- Andrei- said in disgust.

"A lot of people fawn over me, Andrei. It's just one of those things." Krum shrugged.

"Bet you're glad Durmstrang's a boys' school." Andrei laughed and Viktor favoured him with a wry smile.

"Oh, look. The 'Superstar' has decided to lower himself to our level and work. Suppose we should enjoy it while we can." Another boy said snidely as they entered the cargo hold.

It was something which always took Viktor by surprise. These people who thought that just because he was on the National Quidditch team, he never worked. He trained night and day, through heatwaves and the harshest of winter storms, to get to where he was.

And then he still needed to study.

The team's coach had not been pleased when Viktor had informed him of where he would be spending his school year, and Viktor had a very strict schedule and diet to follow. Not to mention that he had to spend at least two weekends in a month training with the rest of the team.

And yet, the sniping comments and hero worship never ended.

That was why he was so lucky to have Andrei- he wasn't inclined to either. Which could be because he himself had a very successful rock band that was taking Bulgaria by storm. The Drunken House-Elves had had a roaringly successful first tour this summer, and so they had found kindred spirits in each other.

"Shut up, Aleksandrei." Andrei said blithely. "We have already proven that we cab work hard for our dreams. I doubt you even have any dreams."

"Why you little...!" Viktor blithely stepped in between the furious Aleksandrei and his much skinnier friend. Viktor was by no means as large as Aleksandrei, but his body was honed from hours of special training and he could easily break a man's nose with his compact muscles.

"Whatever, you're not worth the energy- I mean you got in on spell casting. That's so gay." Aleksandrei scoffed.

"Oh yes. Fabulous insult that. You should let me show you my spellmanship someday soon." Andrei answered serenely.

"One day you two won't have anyone to hide behind. And then I'll get you."

"I'll get you my pretty- and your little dog too!" This statement was finished with a cackle from Andrei.

Viktor and most of the other boys gave him strange looks- except one who was sniggering behind his hand.

"... Muggle movie reference." Andrei shrugged.

Viktor just shook his head.

At least it would be an interesting year.

HP-BaB-HP

Harry was having a bad day.

Not only was he in a lot of pain, and still having involuntary muscle spasms, but for some reason girls kept on whispering whenever he passed them in the hallways.

What the hell?

He wasn't in the mood for this shit. He'd been tortured last night and now it seemed that he was the subject of some kind of ridiculous rumour.

Not to mention the fact that several boys he was pretty sure he'd never met had struck up coversations with him. They kept asking if he had a date for the yule ball.

What. The. Fuck.

It was all rather disturbing, and by the time he finally entered the hallowed sanctuary of the library he was ready to blow a gasket.

"Hey Harry." Hermione greeted him with her usual smile. Harry merely grunted non-comitally. She gave him a quizzical look but he merely waved it away and started unpacking his books. They'd be doing their arithmancy project again.

"Okay- so you know how we're doing our project on the number seven right? Well, I figured we'd draw sevens on different materials and then record whether it had any effect on their strengths, magical properties and appearance. What do you think?"

I think that I'd rather go twenty rounds with a hyppogriff than than have the conversation we need to have. Harry though to himself.

It would be so easy to hide all of this from her- so easy to just lose himself in this world of numbers and just not tell her.

But she deserved better than that.

She would never forgive him if she found out- but more than that, the distress of having it dumped on her in front of the whole school, of seeing Longbottom in danger, with no clue as to what was going on would distress her.

And she would be a useful messenger to Longbottom.

Damn it.

"Hermione." His voice rasped hideously, his vocal chords straining and causing him pain.

"H-Harry?" She stuttered, caught completely off guard.

"We need to talk."

"... Oh Merlin."

Harry frowned. "You say that like you know what I'm about to say."

"Oh, Harry. I... I can't say I'm not disappointed that you didn't tell me. But I am here for you. I will support you no matter what your preferences are."

Wait- what? Harry did a triple and Hermione must have seen his confusion because she hastened to explain it to her.

"I never meant to even hear the rumour, but I heard Ginny and Angelina and I just can't resist my own curiosity. It will kill me one day. Anyways, I am not a homophobe. I will be your friend- you don't have to worry about losing me..."

And then it clicked.

Someone thought he was gay... and having glorious gay sex. He knew where it came from of course, the limp had still been visible this morning, and it had gotten more pronounced through the day.

Dear Merlin- he'd gotten tortured and they thought he was gay.

It was just too surreal to take in. so Harry did something he hadn't done in years.

He burst out laughing.

It was such a sudden and unexpected thing that Hermione looked vaguely disturbed, her had still poised where it had been moving to hold his in support.

Finally, Madame Prince came and 'shush'ed them. Though she herself seemed disturbed by his hoarse laugh.

Finally calming himself he shook his head. "Mione, I'm not gay."

"You're not?"

"No." He gave her a dazzling grin. "I am not, nor have I ever been, attracted to men."

The very thought was disgusting to him- maybe if he hadn't been... forced. Maybe then he would have wondered, but now he knew for a fact.

"... Oh." Hermione said, eyes wide. "Well. This is awkward... Oh no. Oh God no... Harry..." She turned those huge eyes on him and they were filled with fear. "This is about Voldemort isn't it?"

Smart girl. She knew he only talked when the material to be discussed was too valuable to be written down.

"Yes."

"But... how do you know? I mean... he doesn't have Neville- does he?"

"No... and he's not planning on kidnapping him this year either."

"Then what...?"

"He's going to get an agent to kill him during the Tournament." Harry said grimly, all traces of earlier merriment gone.

"Oh no! That's horrible!"

"Yes... and..."

"Then we need to warn Neville!" She said, her fist smacking her palm. Harry caught her just as she rose from her seat and pulled her back down.

"Don't be ridiculous!" He snapped. "If we do that Voldemort will know something's up. And that wouldn't be any good, now would it?"

"Harry- you can't let that happen! You just can't! I mean... that would just mean that... he's actually really sweet Harry!"

"What do you want me to do about it?" Harry asked irritably. After all, he was the one who had gotten tortured and threatened. It was the people he loved and cared about that were in peril.

"What you always do- find a way to protect him. Please?" Those huge doe-brown eyes are staring at him.

"What am I? His body guard?" Harry doesn't care- his tenuous grip on his temper is starting to snap. He should go get a smoke, should calm down, but right now he's sore and he's so Merlin damned tired that he can't think straight.

"What? Harry- no..."

"Because it's always me who ends up saving all your asses! Maybe, just maybe I'm tired of this bullshit!" He growled at her, face twisted in rage.

SMACK!

Harry's hand flew to his cheek, green eyes wide in disbelief. Hermione was breathing hard, having stood up, with her hand still in the air.

"You... you jerk! How dare you! I never once asked you to come after me. And I appreciated it every time you did. So don't you dare cheapen our friendship like that!" And then she was gone in a flurry of frizzy brown hair and the smell of ink.

Shit.

Talk about royally fucking up.

HP-BaB-HP

Severus Snape was currently suffering from a headache.

Damn those idiotic first years, they'd blown up a simple burn ointment. It was ridiculous and simply unacceptable- in saving them he'd lost yet another set of robes. And it wasn't as if he had a never ending bank vault with which to pay for them.

He was so bloody broke that he bought them all second hand, died them black and tailored them himself.

Yes, he knew how to sew, his mother had been a seamstress. He had helped her make clothes for the rich people, he could embroider some rather elaborate patterns.

He still had the pillow his mother had made for him- from the olde magicks- infused with her love and wishes for him. She had taught him to needlepoint cushions too, although she had been very careful not to let him imbue his magic into the pillow.

He hadn't been old enough when she had died.

And there his thoughts took a depressing turn. He refused to allow his day to take this turn- getting doused in failed potion was one thing, getting all teary eyed over his less-than-ideal childhood was another.

He was currently dressed in a plain white swordsman shirt, his breeches black, with his still unblemished dragonhide boots. Now, those where an investment. Comfy and durable- they were worth every galleon. Other pieces of clothing merely didn't last long enough in his business to justify spending anything more than sickles on them.

Books and journals were a much better investment.

Speaking of, he had just received the new Potions Quarterly and he was looking forward to reading it. But he had to put Harry back in one piece first.

Speaking of- the brat was late.

It wasn't unheard of, but it was hardly the norm. Surely he hadn't managed to get himself into yet another pickle! Generally it was Longbottom who got into these messes! Merlin, where had he gone wrong exactly? He was the only father figure the boy had- so where had he gotten this ridiculous hero complex from?

From you, you dolt! His inner voice sniped.

I have no idea what you're talking about. He told the voice in no uncertain terms.

Oh please- why did you become a spy?

I was young and foolish. I am no longer like that!

Of course not. You told the boy all he needed to save that Granger girl because you thought he'd sit back and relax. And you covered for him because you felt... nothing for him?

Shut up. He told the voice quite firmly.

A knock at the door alerted him to Harry's arrival and saved him from his own thoughts.

When he let the boy into the room, however, he looked rather like a drowned cat. All miserable and slouched.

"Alright- spit it out. Whatever's bothering you." Snape said as the boy took up residence on his couch. The boy threw him a stony glare.

"Don't make this more difficult than it need be."

"I was mean to Hermione, alright?"

"Hmph. And that makes you look like a drowned cat? I'll call the wedding planners."

"I hurt her. That's... not good." The boy finished lamely. Severus set to knitting the wounds further.

"Mister Potter- sometimes we say things we do not mean. Or that we mean in the heat of the moment. That does not mean that all is lost. An apology is usually sufficient to rectify things."

When he looked up at the boy, the boy was staring at him like he was a bug under a magnifying enchantment. Severus scowled at him.

"What?"

"You sound like you're talking from experience." Was all Harry said.

"... I apologized once. A long time ago." Severus murmured. The shock was evident on the boy's face and he gave a bitter laug.

"Yes, I apologized. There was only really one person I ever apologized to, you know. I loved- and still do love her with all my heart."

"Who was this remarkable woman?"

"Your mother."

Harry's eyes went wide and Severus ran a hand over his face. Now he'd done it- he'd told the boy too much and so his tenacious personality wouldn't let it go until the truth was dragged out from the darkest recesses of Severus' soul.

"My... my mother?"

"Indeed. We were rather close friends here at Hogwarts. For a time, and then we both bowed to peer pressure. I said some horrible things, she said some horrible things and just like that we were no longer anything but enemies."

"So apologizing doesn't work." The boy mumbled dispirited.

"That depends, I suppose, on how the apology is handled and how stubborn the two of you are."

"What was she like? My mother?" Came the uncertain question, and suddenly Severus was harshly reminded that the boy was only fifteen years old. And no-one had ever taken the time to discuss his parents with him.

Severus sighed in resignation. "She was... beautiful, smart, determined, stubborn, kind and ridiculously bad at household spells."

Harry smiled a bit at this statement.

"I met her a few years before we came to Hogwarts, and we became best of friends. But I was sorted into Slytherin, and she became a Gryffindor. In the end I became embroiled in the dark arts and blood sports. Your mother found this- along with a slur I hurled at her in my humiliation- to be simply unforgivable.

And so she did not forgive me. I was forced to watch as she started dating your father, and eventually they were married. They had you and I watched as your mother changed from a young girl into someone who adored you. You were the centre of her universe."

Here Severus gave a wry smile. What would he have given to have her look upon him like that? To be the father in that happy trio?

Anything.

He would have given anything.

"And this is supposed to be convincing me to apologize?"

"You and Miss Granger have been through much more than your mother and I ever were. Saving someone else's life creates a bond that is nearly unbreakable."

"... Oh."

There was a few moments of blissful silence, and then...

"How did they die?"

Severus flinched. "Your mother died fighting the Dark Lord... Your father was killed by his best friend."

Harry frowned. "I thought you said I was her entire universe?"

"You were. That is why she took up arms against the Dark Lord- to ensure that you would be allowed to live a peaceful life. The life of an Auror is ever uncertain, and your mother somehow always ended up on the front lines, no matter how James Potter and I tried to prevent it.

Even her boss tried to convince her to saty back, as the first female Auror he felt that she was too much of a distraction to the men, who would automatically try to protect a woman. But she would have none of it. And she won their respect by not accepting any special treatment.

She fought bravely- and she died bravely. She died to protect you, even though you were just three months old."

Severus did not add that it was his fault- that he had turned spy the moment he had realized that the Dark Lord had his Lily in his sights. That he had unwittingly fed the Order false information. That he had failed her.

There was another silence and then: "What about my father?"

Severus scowled. "He... he let his friend into his house. The friend turned on him and killed him. The Aurors hunted him down and found him laughing maniacally amongst a mountain of Muggle corpses."

"So why wasn't I killed?"

"The Headmaster was alerted to someone's presence in the house. He surprised the man before he could kill you." He didn't mention that Harry had probably been spared because of the prophecy.

"Seems like he keeps trying to kill the people I love."

"The Dark Lord takes great pleasure in killing people. Whoever they may be. Now, go to bed. You need all the sleep you can get." Severus made a shooing motion with his hand.

"Why wasn't I the Boy-Who-Lived? I mean, the prophecy... I was born close enough to Longbottom to get Voldemort's attention, wasn't I?"

"Your parents were very careful to keep your birth a secret. Especially considering your mother's profession. Aurors have to be very careful when it comes to their families. It was made much easier by the fact that your father's family was dead, and your mother's were all Muggles. She had cut all ties with them when the Dark Lord became a threat the first time.

The Longbottoms did not have this luxury. Their family celebrated the birth of an heir in the traditional ways, and so the Dark Lord only knew of Longbottom's birth."

"So... my parents' paranoia saved me?"

Severus gave him a wry smile. "And people say paranoia like it's a bad thing."

Harry got up, but turned back at the portrait that would lead him to the hallways. "Thank you, Professor, for trying to save her."

And then he was gone, leaving a shocked Severus Snape in his wake.

HP-BaB-HP

Hermione Granger was miserable.

And angry.

But mostly she was just plain miserable. She couldn't believe that Harry had been quite so callous. Hell, she couldn't believe she'd smacked him!

With a sigh she fell back onto her bed.

This was not what she wanted. She wanted all of her friends alive and happy. She didn't want to fight with them or have to keep huge secrets from them. Then again, she supposed that was a really stupid mentality to have.

You can't always have what you want, but sometimes you can get what you need.

Great- she was quoting Muggle classics. She turned onto her stomach and buried her face in her pillow. What was she going to do? Could she honestly just let Neville go in blind? Didn't he deserve to know Voldemort's plan?

But then... the person who had told Harry would get into trouble, maybe even die. And Harry might even get into trouble- she didn't want that.

What did she do? How did you make these sorts of difficult decisions?

She allowed a few frustrated tears to run down her face.

At times like these she felt cheated. Her beloved books couldn't help her here, this was the sort of thing most people decided according to their gut. But Hermione's gut had never really been all that active- she preferred using her brain to make these decisions.

Gah! Why was this so freaking complicated?

A soft fluttering noise caught her attention. She looked up to see a beautifully folded dragon gracefully glide down onto her bed. Sniffing a bit and brushing away the tears, she carefully took the little note and opened it.

Dearest Hermione,

Please forgive me my unacceptable outburst earlier. Hurting you was the furthest thing from my mind, and I cannot accurately express my feelings of absolute disgust with myself.

And yet I still hope that you will find it in your courageous heart to once more bless me with your beautiful smile.

Regretful and ever hopeful,

Harry.

Hermione let out a choked little sob as she read the note. It was hardly the most poetic thing she'd ever read, but the thought and the compliments were sincere and she was a sucker for his big green eyes.

With a lot more energy than she had felt before, she threw on her cloak and headed down the stairs to the common room. It was a typical lazy evening, with some people doing homework and some people playing games.

Ron was currently beating Neville at chess.

Hermione slipped out with very little trouble and whispered a spell to find Harry. They'd invented it last year, built into tattoos they'd both gotten in Hogsmead.

Yup, she Hermione Granger, had a tattoo.

It was very pretty really, a small lotus blossom on her hip bone. The little tracking charm they'd worked into it allowed only their spell to find each other and would glow if any tracking spells were to be cast on them.

Harry really was paranoid.

The spell pointed her to the castle grounds and she hurried outside, following the gentle glow into a recess hidden carefully behind a screen of rose bushes. There was an arch, with its frame gently glowing with blue engravings that Hermione had never seen before.

She stepped inside and was greeted by an amazing sight.

Harry Potter standing in front of a glowing white sphere, with disks spinning around a central axis which reminded her of a model of an atom she had once seen, with a huge white tree projecting from the disks.

The tree was in full bloom, the faint pinkish colour at the base of the lotus blossoms the only colour in the room.

The eerie light bleached Harry of all colour, giving him an ethereal glow and making him seem like something from another world.

"Harry?" She asked, uncertainly, her voice almost absorbed in the eerie empty space.

He turned to her, his eyes questioning, and then he smiled.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven then?" And he looked so genuinely happy at that thought that she just had to hug him.

"Oh Harry, you could never do anything that I wouldn't forgive you for."

HP-BaB-HP

A/N: Dun dun dunnnnn...! Oh Hermione, you shouldn't make promises like that.

Wow! Apparently bribery works on you guys- I got a slew of reviews for the last chapter! Thank you all so much. Again- every fave/alert/review honestly does make my day.

Chapter notes: Okay. So I know what I promised for this chapter, but the characters insisted on having more drama. They insist on getting their moments and having proper character development. Damn.

Also: This is not, and never will be, a slash fanfiction. Harry isn't gay, but the girls think he is. They're school going girls, and where I went to school these sort of misunderstandings flourish. There is no offense meant to gay people, or people with delicate sensibilities. Ok? Ok!

As for Viktor Krum- I don't think the other boys would necessarily be nice to him, and I don't see him as a man of many words. Not because he's stupid, but he's just the strong quiet type. Hopefully I don't write him as 'dumb'. (And no, I couldn't resist the quote.)

Harry and Hermione's fight will be remembered by those of you who followed the first draft of this story. I happen to think that anyone would have and adverse reaction to their conversation. Especially after being tortured. So I think it makes Harry a little more human.

So- my explanation of why Lily and James were killed? Did you buy it? I enjoyed playing around with the whole Severus-Lily relationship, and I think that making her the first female Auror just fit into the explanation. James, in my 'verse was a politician. It doesn't really affect much of the story at the moment, but it will come up again.

And now you just know that Hermione will find out about Harry's part in all of this. I find it amusing personally, exactly how paranoid Harry is. I think he'd convince her to get a matching tattoo. :D

Coming up: What exactly is with the wards and that funny tree? Does Daphne believe the rumours? Will Dumbledore ever make anything more than a cameo appearance? Will Vector triumph over the wards? Will Severus begin to realize why he's pulling Vector's hair (metaphorically)? And will those champions ever arrive? Stay tuned!