Disclaimer: Harry Potter equals JK Rowling squared divided by radius.

A/N: Well, this is my longest chapter ever, and the first that's OVER 9,000! words. I considered breaking it up, but I didn't think there was a good place that meshed well with the next chapter.

I'm not sure how some people got the idea that Hermione is trying to solve everyone else's problems. That wasn't my intent at all. She offered help to Fleur out of politeness, but she didn't make a big deal out of it. She pushed harder to help Cedric because she has a crush on him, something I thought that was pretty clear. I don't see where she's shown any pattern of co-dependent behaviour outside of the Tournament, and I certainly wasn't trying to create one. This story is still about Hermione, and she will be making her own way in a big way as time goes on.

I've posted the first chapter of a new novella, Petrification Proliferation, depicting an alternate ending for second year.

Chapter 71

Harry found he was rather glad that he slept until lunch. It meant he had to spend less time worrying about the task. Not that he wasn't dreading it, but now that he was prepared, he was more of the mind of wanting to get it over. He didn't much feel like eating, but it was no use fighting a dragon on an empty stomach—though he questioned whether a full stomach would be much better—so he and Hermione headed down to lunch together.

Hermione had been to Madam Pomfrey and back while Harry slept and now had a vacant look in her wide eyes and dark circles that almost looked painted on. After her third dose of Pepperup, she was starting to hate the stuff. She felt like her mind was in a fog—a terrible sensation for her. Meanwhile, her heart was racing, and she felt jittery and short-tempered. She'd never been awake for this long before, and she was now regretting trying to power through her homework. She'd got a fair amount done, despite barely being able to focus, but she knew it wasn't up to her usual standards.

But if today worked out, it would be worth it. It would serve them right if Harry showed them all and kicked that dragon's arse, which she thought was a distinct possibility (mostly telling herself that so she wouldn't have to think about him being eaten).

So, she was feeling really irritable today, and there was already a lot to be irritable about today, like four students basically being thrown into gladiatorial games. Whose bright idea was this, anyway? If it was Bagman, she was going to nail him.

Her bad start took a turn for the worse as she and Harry headed down to lunch—a little late, after most of the students had passed through. It was on the last deserted flight of stairs, when no one else was around, that she heard a voice call out from above. "Supplanta!"

"AHH!" Harry yelled as he was hit by a Tripping Jinx, stumbled, and flipped over the railing, falling to the floor of the Entrance Hall.

"HARRY! SPONGIFY!"

Quick and dirty, as Septima once said, was the solution here. Hermione didn't even think as she drew her wand and cast the strongest Softening Charm she could at the floor below. Harry hit the stone and bounced once before coming to a stop. He rolled, groaned, and then started to stagger to his feet. Hermione sighed with relief, then spun around to see a sniggering Draco Malfoy at the top of the stairs, surrounded by his ludicrous cronies. "It's about time," he said. "I thought he was gonna skip lunch—"

"YOU!" she screamed. "You foul, loathsome, evil—Expelliarmus!—little cockroach!" Malfoy flinched as Hermione did something he'd never expected: she flew up the stairs, disarmed him, and held her wand at his throat before he could blink. "Drop it, Parkinson!" she snapped. Pansy Parkinson had been the only one of his friends smart enough to draw her own wand, as Crabbe and Goyle looked too bewildered to move. Malfoy actually looked scared. Good. "I can't believe—! That was low, even for you, Malfoy. What do you think would have happened if Harry had broken his leg and couldn't compete?" she demanded. Actually, that was a good question. How would the magical contract react if a Champion were incapacitated? "He could've been cursed into oblivion! He could've been thrown in there and eaten alive! But you don't care, do you? It's all good fun to you if he dies today as long as you get your panem et circenses. I ought to—"

"Hermione!"

It was Harry's voice. She snapped out of it and looked down at her hand in horror at what she was doing. Was she really holding her wand to Malfoy's throat? Yes. Yes, she was. She was in a worse mood today than she thought. She wouldn't have done him any permanent harm, of course, but still…She took a half step to the side so she could look down at Harry and keep one eye on the Slytherins.

"Hermione, don't. I'm okay. It's not worth it," Harry said.

Hermione relaxed her grip on her wand and started to back away, but in her present state, she couldn't resist making one final jab—or rather one final right hook. She switched her wand to her other hand and punched Malfoy in the nose with a satisfying crack. He went down hard, whimpering in pain and indignation. "Try to sabotage Harry again, and I'll hex your teeth out, Malfoy," she hissed. "And I'm a child of dentists; I can make it happen."

The Slytherins fled, although it was probably more from embarrassment than fear. When she rejoined Harry, he stared at her with wide eyes, not speaking.

Yes, sleep deprivation did weird things to her.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, they weren't quite as alone as she had thought because when they turned around to face the Entrance Hall, they found themselves face to face with three very stunned Weasleys. Great, now everyone's gonna find out, she thought.

"Bloody hell, Hermione," Fred started.

"That was brilliant!" George said.

"And scary."

"And awesome. I mean, punching him in the nose?"

Merlin's pants, I just punched someone in the face, didn't I, she thought. I'm supposed to be the non-violent one around here.

"Wow, Hermione, I had no idea you had that in you," Ginny said. "Ron's gonna be pissed that he missed that."

"I'm a child of dentists—"

"—I can make it happen," the Twins quoted ominously.

Oh no, did I really say that? she thought.

"I remember your folks telling Dad what they did for a living," George said. "Malfoy should be scared."

Hermione was too mortified to respond. Instead, she just managed to say, "Come on, let's eat."

Professor McGonagall took Harry down to the Quidditch Pitch immediately following lunch. The dragons had all been subdued, restrained, and hidden from view, but one could hear their growling and snorting from a fair distance. Hermione followed close, hoping to given him a final—wrong choice of words—send off. McGonagall clearly sensed her concern, because she stepped away from the entrance to the tent to give them a minute.

"You're ready, Harry," Hermione said, trying to assure herself as much as she was him. "You've got the muscle memory. Let your arm do the wandwork, and concentrate, like we practised—"

"It's going to be okay," he said. "I trust your spell."

"Harry, don't say that!" she cried. "I tried, but…Now, if you die out there, it'll be my fault!"

"Hermione, calm down. Your spell is brilliant. It's better than the best idea Remus could come up with, and he was the best Defence Professor we've had."

She blushed at the compliment, but it didn't make her any less worried: "But you still have to…"

"Battle a dragon, I know."

Near tears, she hugged him.

Then, there was a camera flash.

They both broke apart like the other one was on fire, but it was too late. The photo had been taken, and Rita Skeeter was striding over to them, excitedly saying, "Young love!"

"That wasn't—"

"We're not—"

"How…stirring."

"We're just friends!" Hermione protested.

"She was helping me train," Harry said, but Rita didn't seem to be listening. Hermione shifted her assessment of the woman from "dislike" to "loathe".

Professor McGonagall had also seen the flash and had rushed back over to give Rita a piece of her mind. ("The Headmaster can have you barred from the school, you know!") But amazingly, even McGonagall's wrath didn't seem to scare Rita Skeeter. Maybe she really was as tough as Septima had said. McGonagall eventually escorted Hermione to the stands, where she met up with the Weasleys again, standing between George and Ginny. The person behind them was a surprise, however.

"Good afternoon, Hermione."

She had to blink a couple times to be sure whom she was seeing. She would have thought there would be a staff box. "Septima?" she said in confusion.

"Of course. I wanted to see you. I've been worried about you, Hermione. You showed up two days ago, and hardly anyone's seen you since."

"I was helping Harry," she replied curtly.

"Right. I understand, although I've been hearing some rather disturbing rumours about you just now."

Hermione shot a quick glare at Fred and George. Couldn't they just pretend that hadn't happened? She was probably going to get it from Madame Maxime later.

"I understand you wanting to help your friend, but this isn't like you, Hermione. Are you alright?" Septima said, noticing the dark circles.

"Alright? Um…not really, Septima," she snapped. She had a noticeable tic in her face by now, and the jitters were getting worse. "I crafted a potentially revolutionary new spell in under twenty-four hours. I haven't slept in—" She checked her watch. "—oh, about sixty-two hours. I've basically been running on nothing but Pepperup Potion since yesterday morning. I'm wide awake, and I still feel like a zombie. Oh, and I'm terrified that my best friend is going to die today. So, um, no, I don't think I'm alright."

Septima was taken aback. "My goodness!" she said. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise…You—you created a new spell for Harry to use in the Task?"

"Yeah."

"You know, you never did tell us what that spell was," George said, putting an arm around her shoulder with an ingratiating grin.

"Just wait. You'll see."

"Say," Fred added, "we've been meaning to ask you, but we haven't seen you: care to offer odds on the Task?"

"No, I will not," she said indignantly. "I will not support this inhumane bloodsport." The Twins both raised their eyebrows and backed off a bit. She stared down into the geodesic dome that now covered half the Quidditch pitch, idly wondering how it had been built. She had brought her Omnioculars out to record the Task and held them up for a closer look. The dome looked surprisingly modern: made of glass with a metal frame, and it had surely been enchanted to withstand a dragon. Precisely in the middle of the dome, she saw Charlie Weasley and several other handlers setting out a nest of dragon eggs. Most of them were a bright blue colour, indicating the Swedish Short-Snout, the smallest of the dragons, but one was pure gold, presumably the prize. There was something odd about the ring-shaped rock formations in the dome. They cut into pointed ridges in perfect circles, about eight feet high and five feet high at the edges, but flatter as they approached the middle, with large boulders dotted around randomly for cover.

Her hands were shaking—the stupid jitters again. There was no way she could keep the Omnioculars steady. Considering what to do, she climbed higher and leaned over the back railing, and, spotting a stick lying on the ground, she summoned it to her. Then, she transfigured it into a crude mount and used it to affix the Omnioculars to the front railing, looking into the dome.

"What's that for?" Ginny asked.

"I'm recording the task for later analysis. It might be useful."

"What do you mean?"

"I found a way to transfer Omniocular recordings to magical photos."

Everyone's jaws dropped around her, even Septima's. She'd said it like it was trivial, but that was mostly the sleep deprivation talking. She brushed off the requests for photos and just said she'd think about it.

She didn't know what was happening in the tent, but Bagman ran out to what was normally the teachers' box and explained to the crowd that each of the Champions would be facing a mother dragon and would have to steal a golden egg from her nest. This sounded like a very bad idea, but most people didn't seem to notice.

The Swedish Short-Snout was brought into the arena. It was indeed small for a dragon—about twenty feet long—but it was more dangerous than it looked because of its agility and its hot blue flame. The crowd cheered like a bunch of idiot plebs when they saw it.

"Disgusting," Hermione muttered. "PANEM ET CIRCENSES!" she shouted. A few people, mostly fellow muggle-borns, had the good decency to look embarrassed, but not many.

A few seconds later, Cedric Diggory entered the area, having apparently been chosen first. Hermione's heart had leapt into her throat. He had wanted to come up with his own strategy fair and square, which was fair enough. He was one of the most brilliant students in the school, after all, but now, she was regretting not pushing him to accept her help. She didn't think she had ever seen a human being looking quite that green.

But then, something else happened. Something that no one had expected. Something that literally made her scream in horror.

The entire dome and the arena inside it lurched and started spinning anticlockwise.

"Oh no!" she cried. "No no no no no no no!"

"Hermione, what is it?" Ginny said.

"It's spinning!"

"Yeah?"

"Coriolis forces! When Harry uses his Banishing Charm, it's going to pull to the right!"

"Oh," Ginny said, wide eyed.

"Yeah. Oh. This is bad. This is really bad."

The arena was spinning completely around once every fifteen seconds, as she timed it, faster than seemed necessary to simply give everyone a good view. The g-forces involved must be quite large. Some quick mental maths, and she realised that at the outer rim, the level ground must feel as steep as a staircase. Suddenly, the shape of the arena made sense. What looked like strange, angular trenches were actually a giant's staircase, all perfectly horizontal and vertical under the centrifugal force. That was actually very clever, but she was more worried about her friend—crush—right now.

Cedric tried a number of spells to distract the dragon—bright, flashing lights, moving images, even transfiguring a rock into a dog and charming it to make a run at the nest from a different angle. All the while, Ludo Bagman was cheerfully commentating the whole thing like it was a great show. Idiot. She wanted to punch him even more than Malfoy right now.

Cedric's luck looked like it had run out when the dragon caught up with him and finally got into flaming range. Hermione screamed and covered her eyes. There was a gasp, and she thought it was all over, but then, there was a cheer, and she looked up.

The dragon had missed.

It was close enough to singe Cedric's robes, but it missed, and he ran out of range before it could fire again.

"Coriolis forces, of course!" she said and actually started laughing. The dragons couldn't shoot straight either. The spinning was actually an advantage for the Champions, not the dragons, although it didn't get Harry out of the woods. If his first shot missed, and the dragon exploded it, she would probably wise up to his strategy. Hermione's heart was pounding through the entire battle. She wondered what were the health effects of excessive Pepperup Potion combined with extreme stress and whether she would be able to survive three more of these spectacles. She was shaking so badly that she had to hold onto the railing to stay standing. Worried thoughts crowded into her mind. Should she have told Cedric how she felt about him? If she'd been here all year, she was sure she would have. If she hadn't been so worried about Harry this week, she was sure she would have. But she'd poured every spare minute into helping him, and she'd never got around to it. She prayed to whatever power was in charge of magic that Cedric—that both of them, for that matter—would get through this in one piece. As soon as she got a chance, she thought, she'd tell Cedric how she felt.

After about fifteen minutes, Cedric tried the dog trick again, and this time, it was successful. The mother dragon turned away from her nest to chase the dog away, and while she was distracted, he ran up and snatched the golden egg. The crowd roared, and then Hermione slapped her forehead. The dragon had noticed something amiss at the noise and spun around, charging towards Cedric. He ran, so fast Hermione was afraid he would tumble down the "stairs", the deadly blue flame rushing behind him. He shielded with his wand, but some of the fire got through, searing him down his right side. He did fall then, but he tucked and rolled, bouncing to his feet as soon as he hit the outer wall. The dragon handlers ran out to restrain the dragon, Stunning Spells flying, as Cedric made a quick dash to the exit. It was over.

"Oh, thank God!" Hermione gasped collapsing back into her seat. Her heart was racing so fast she felt like she could have been in the arena herself.

"That was wicked!" the three Weasleys said in unison.

"Yeah, wicked," she replied weakly, but she didn't think she meant it the same way they did.

The handlers replaced the Short-Snout's nest with another one filled with green eggs while the judges released their scores. Cedric was given thirty-eight points out of a possible fifty. Then, the second dragon, a Welsh Green, was released into the arena. The Green was larger than the Short-Snout, and nominally tamer, but that didn't make much difference with a nesting mother. Hermione braced herself, wondering how the order of the Champions was decided, and her heart started beating faster again when she saw Fleur Delacour enter the arena.

She wasn't as close to Fleur as Harry or Cedric, but she had become a friend, and Hermione thought she was a good person under that prickly exterior. She really didn't want to see her hurt either. Veela were fire resistant, so the quarter-veela ought to have a natural advantage in this, but it wouldn't be easy.

Fleur put her other veela traits to good use in this. She appeared to be trying to charm the dragon like a snake charmer, using spells and her natural animal magnetism to put it into a trance. It was really very ingenious, and it seemed to be working. The dragon slowed, relaxed, stumbled sleepily, and then ilay down in front of the nest, both eyes closed—no "half an eye open" like Tolkien had said.

"Now, everybody be quiet," Bagman said in an amplified whisper. "We don't wanna wake it up." Wow, so he wasn't a total idiot after all. Even more amazingly, the crowd obeyed. Fleur's task was easy, then. She crept up while the dragon slept and snatched the egg right from under its nose. It was a brilliant move. Unfortunately, as she turned to go, the dragon snored, and a jet of flame lit her skirt on fire, but she put it out with a jet of water from her wand and ran for the exit.

After all that, Fleur received thirty-five points.

"What?!" Hermione yelled. That was completely unfair. She hated to admit it, but Fleur had done better than Cedric. The difference was completely down to Karkaroff, who was being blatantly unfair to both in his scoring, as well as blatantly sexist. (Or maybe anti-"half-breeds". He was an ex-Death Eater, after all.)

The third dragon was the Chinese Fireball, and Hermione didn't feel at all surprised when Viktor Krum came out to face it. Harry was right; he'd got stuck with the biggest and meanest one. Krum didn't evade the dragon like the others had. He attacked it head on.

How would Bulgaria feel if their national hero got eaten by a dragon in this contest? Hermione wondered idly. Maybe they'd declare war. Could she defect if they did? It might be an improvement.

God, she was getting loopy.

"Conjunctivitis!" Krum shouted, and a sickly pink bolt lanced out and swung far to the right. He looked confused for a moment, but he realised it was the spinning and tried again. This time, it hit the dragon directly in the eyes. Wow, Krum had good aim. And now, she could see how well Remus's plan would have done.

Not well, as it turned out. The dragon roared in pain and started stomping all over the arena—including directly on her own nest! That was sick! They were using real dragon eggs for this! They were an endangered species, and they were risking whole clutches! Not to mention how horrible it was to do that to a mother! Krum didn't seem to care, though. He ran up and grabbed the egg while the dragon was stomping back to the outer rim of the arena on the steep "slope". Thanks to his speed and Karkaroff's favouritism, Krum got forty points, putting him in the lead.

Hermione's heart started pounding again as another thought struck her: Harry's plan wasn't that much different from Krum's. What if he used the spell, and his dragon got disoriented and fell on her nest so he couldn't get to it? But what else could he do? It was all he had. She clung to George for support, and Ginny clung to her for support as the fourth dragon was brought out.

Harry walked into the arena with his heart pounding in his throat. He vaguely heard the roar of the crowd, but he was more distracted by his opponent. He was going up against the strongest and meanest dragon in the world. Huge, black, and lizard-like, the Hungarian Horntail was as big as an elephant, spitting fire, armed at both ends, and roared even louder than the crowd. Halfway between them was a nest filled with five black eggs and one golden one.

He stepped forward, but as soon as he set foot on one of the strangely angled rocks, something happened that he hadn't anticipated. There was a sudden lurch, and he was thrown back against the wall. It felt like the entire place had tilted on its side. Then, he looked up and saw why: the arena was spinning.

"And the spinning's started," Bagman called. "Let the game begin!"

Harry staggered to his feet and oriented himself. When he stood what felt like upright and looked down, the rough, rocky trenches suddenly looked like a rough, giant staircase. That was convenient. He looked "up" across the arena, a disconcerting sight that made it look like he was on a giant Tilt-a-Whirl. The dragon looked confused, but was also orienting herself again. She started climbing towards the centre.

He needed to move fast. He picked up a rock and set about transfiguring it into a pair of sunglasses—wraparounds that fit over his regular glasses. He didn't want to be blinded in his peripheral vision.

The Hungarian Horntail reached the nest and loomed over it, her front claws on either side, glaring at Harry. She roared loudly, and when that didn't make him go away, she shot a stream of fire at him. He was about eighty feet away from her, too far for even a Horntail to shoot flame, but it was intimidating.

"I'm not sure what Potter's doing," Bagman announced. "It looks like he's enchanting something. He's keeping his distance, but the Horntail's not gonna like that."

Harry just had the sunglasses finished when he looked up again. The dragon was barrelling towards him, and this time, she was close enough to breath fire. He wanted to run, but he felt rooted to the spot. Then, he heard a voice floating over the din: "To the right! To the right!" It was Hermione's voice, and he didn't question it. He dove to the right at the same moment the dragon's fire struck the wall a few feet to the left of where he had been. Harry didn't know anything about Coriolis forces, but he could tell that the spinning was throwing off the dragon's aim. The crowd gasped and cheered as he made his narrow escape. If anyone objected to Hermione shouting advice at him, they didn't say it. He ran along the trench as fast as he could in the direction of rotation. It felt even steeper and more tilted that way, but he kept going. Behind him, the dragon lost her footing and stumbled "downhill" into the wall. That gave him a few precious seconds to scramble up the ridge and into the next trench, which, to his relief, was slightly less tilted. He ducked behind one of the large boulders and used Hermione's first spell: "Colovaria Fluctuabrevis", turning the sunglasses blue, and he slipped them on.

"Whoa, that was a close one," Bagman said in his running commentary. "Potter's still working. He's…he's wearing blue glasses? I don't know if that'll help, but we'll see."

The Horntail roared behind him, and he ran again, trying to get as far around the circle from her as he could. But she was faster, and he'd lost time fiddling with the glasses. Even through the blue filter, the fire looked vivid. She scrambled around the circle after him, and she was faster than he was. Another jet of flame lanced towards him. This one still missed, but it was close enough to set his cloak on fire. He didn't know how to put it out, so he stripped it off and was about to throw it on the ground when another idea quickly came to him. He threw the burning cloak in the air, cast "Depulso!" with a quick jab of his wand, then ran and didn't look back.

"Nope, he missed," Bagman said. "Uh oh!" There was a chomping sound that indicated the dragon had eaten his cloak. "Feeding her his clothes? Not a good idea, I think. She might want another taste!"

Harry scrambled up to the next trench, which was only about three feet high, and kept running. He ducked behind the next boulder for cover, and quickly transfigured two pebbles into earplugs. Not waiting for the dragon to catch up, he took off and put the earplugs in his ears as he ran.

"Are those earplugs?" Bagman said. "I don't know what he's doing, but it's gonna be big."

That was the last that Harry heard clearly. If he could have heard, he might have noticed Hermione slipping on a pair of blue glasses herself and handing some to her neighbours, and people wondering if she knew something they didn't. Instead, he was worrying about aiming. If he had had to dodge the flames to his right when he was facing the dragon, that meant that when he fired back, he need to aim…to the left…he hoped.

CRASH!

Harry's world was shattered by pain as he was sent flying by the impact of the Horntail's horntail in his chest. She had seen that she couldn't aim properly with fire, so she had flanked him and lashed out with her tail. It was only his Quidditch skills and his natural wizard toughness that let him roll on the landing and stagger to his feet groaning. He didn't hear Bagman call out, "Ouch, looked like that hurt," so cheerfully that Angelina Johnson pulled her wand and tried to hex him.

It was definitely time to use Hermione's secret weapon. He just needed to get a good shot. Fortunately, he landed closer to the centre of the arena, where the ground was flatter. The dragon was on his left, now, though, which was the wrong place to be when he needed to dodge. Still, he did the best he could to get across the circle from her and hid behind another rock.

It was now or never. He could hear the dragon roaring, stalking towards him like an enormous tiger. He leaned out from behind one side of the rock, concentrated as hard as he could, and waved his arm in a while circle whilst chanting, "Dialego Kathar Magnesia. Dialego Kathar Magnesia. Dialego Kathar Magnesia."

A dense cloud of metallic powder rose out of the ground in front of him. It was larger than anything he had attempted yesterday, maybe four or five feet wide. He could feel the drain of energy from the effort. He just hoped it would be enough. He had only seconds left. The dragon was nearly on him. Steeling all the courage he had, he leapt out from behind the rock, jabbed his wand slightly up and to the left, and screamed "DEPULSO!" To his satisfaction, the cloud flew directly at the dragon's head. The dragon drew a breath to shoot fire…

Harry didn't hear Bagman say, "Potter is…he's making a smoke screen? Interesting. Might help. Now he's—he's banishing—?" But he did hear what happened next.

BOOOOOOM!

The noise shook the entire arena. Birds were set off flying out in fright all the way in the Forbidden Forest. The entire crowd screamed and covered their ears. The light was blinding, even at a distance, leaving people blinking in confusion. Even Hermione screamed at its brilliance. Harry had extracted a lot more magnesium powder than she'd expected. When their vision returned to them, they saw an awesome sight. The dragon was reared back on her hind legs, her great wings flapping, trying to get away from the painful stimulus. Not just blind, but deafened and disoriented, she wobbled, shooting flame in a wide arc all around her, hoping to hit her foe. The flame raked over the spot where Harry was, but he dove behind the rock again and was spared.

Then, the dragon toppled. She wasn't stomping in pain like Krum's. She was stumbling like a drunkard, and that surely saved her nest as she fell "down" towards the edge of the turning arena, striking the wall, where she twitched, thrashed, and growled, but was too off-balance to get up again. A shocked silence descended over the stands. People stared, awed and horrified by Harry's (apparent) show of power. He hadn't just slipped past the dragon; he had beaten her.

Harry didn't waste any time. He ran right up to the nest, grabbed the golden egg, and ran to the exit as if the dragon was still after him. And then it was over.

"YES!" Hermione screamed. Her ears were still ringing, and her voice was getting hoarse, but she didn't care. She hugged George for all she was worth and screamed "YES! YES! YES!" over and over again. George and Fred looked simply awestruck, but they were grinning at Harry's success.

"That's our Harry!" Fred yelled.

"That's our Hermione, you mean," George yelled back. "Always coming up with something spectacular!"

She felt a hand wrench her away from behind, and was grabbed in a rib-cracking hug by Ginny. She thought Ginny might actually kiss her, she was so ecstatic. "Oh my God! Oh my God! You did it!" the younger girl squealed. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

"Just doing what I had to," she said.

Hermione felt another trembling hand on her shoulder, and she turned around and hugged Septima just as enthusiastically, still muttering to herself, "Oh, thank God it's over." But when she broke off, she saw Septima looking down at her with shock and, if she could believe it, a twinge of fear.

"Hermione…that was your spell?" she said. Hermione nodded. Septima's mouth worked silently a few times before she continued, "What the hell was that?"

"Chemistry. I created a spell that leeched magnesium from the soil. The dragon's fire lit it."

"Chemistry…? Magnesium…? So then…you didn't discover a new explosive curse that can bring down a dragon in one shot?"

"Of course not. Do you really think Harry could cast something that powerful? It's a simple matter of leverage. Apply a small amount of power in the right way to unlock a larger force. 'Dos moi pa sto, kai tan gan kinaso,' as the master said."

"What?" the Weasleys said.

"It's Greek. Archimedes. It means, 'Give me a place to stand, and I will move the Earth.'"

Harry was led back to the Champions' tent to congratulations from the teachers, although Hagrid had a concerned look on his face. Guessing what was worrying him, he said, "Don't worry, Hagrid. Hermione said it'll only stun her for a little while." Hagrid grinned. Harry wanted to be angry that his huge friend was more worried about the dragon than him, but he just couldn't bring himself to it. He was still in one piece himself, and caring for man-eating animals was part of Hagrid's charm.

Professor Moody was there, too, and he was very interested in what had happened. "Mind telling me what that was, Potter?" he said. "I don't like it when things blow up, and I don't know why."

"It was Hermione's idea," Harry told him. "It's a spell that pulls magnesium powder from the soil or something like that."

"Magnesium? You mean like in flash powder. Clever girl. Good to see you made it through, then."

Madam Pomfrey had to patch Harry up a little; he had been knocked pretty hard by the dragon's tail. But he was no worse off than the others. He got a rundown of what the other champions did and their scores from her, frequently punctuated by remarks about their injuries and how stupid this whole contest was. He quite agreed with her on that point.

Finally, his scores were shown. Madame Maxime gave him nine points, looking reluctant to do so, but after a spectacle like that, it was hard to argue. It was only getting hurt that kept him from a perfect ten. Dumbledore also gave him nine, as did Mr. Crouch. Mr. Bagman did give him ten. And then, Karkaroff, who had conspicuously waited till last, raised his wand and produced a number three, triggering loud boos from the crowd and calls to have him suspended from the judges' panel. Harry was tied with Krum for first.

"Forty points, Potter?" Cedric said. "How on earth did you pull that off?"

Harry grinned: "It was Hermione's spell. She's the one who really did it."

"Hermione?" Cedric's face darkened. "She didn't say she was trying to help you win it."

"She wasn't. She was just trying to—"

Harry was cut off by the arrival of several of Cedric's Hufflepuff friends and a couple from other houses, notably including Cho Chang of Ravenclaw. Harry's stomach flipped when he saw her, but she didn't look at him. They said things like "That was brilliant, Cedric!" and "You should've won that," and "That was worth more than thirty-eight." Harry couldn't get another word in.

A moment later, a series of boisterous shouts announced the arrival of the Weasleys. "Give me a place to stand, and I will move the Earth!" said one of the Weasley Twins—Fred, he thought.

"We knew you were brilliant, but even we've never seen a bang like that before," George—probably—said.

"Okay, I might have got a little carried away about that," said a timid voice between them. Then, Harry saw a brown-haired streak rush forward and slam into him. "HARRY! Thank God you're alright," she said. "You are alright, aren't you? Are you hurt? It looked like you got hit pretty hard—"

"Hermione, I'm fine," he cut her off. "Your spell was brilliant. I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you so much."

"I was just doing what I had to," she said, blushing at the praise.

She stepped back and let Ginny hug Harry next (Harry blushed furiously), expressing her gratitude that he was still alive while Hermione turned to the other Champions. She needed to talk to Cedric while she still had a chance. "Cedric," she called. "Cedric."

"Back off Granger!" said a Hufflepuff girl whom she didn't know with a virulence that she had only heard before from the Slytherins. "This is Team Diggory only, here." A number of Cedric's friends were glaring at her. And so was Fleur now that she noticed. It wasn't hard to guess why. But she wasn't going to back down now. "I need to say something to Cedric," she said. "He's my friend, too."

"Then why weren't you helping him out there?" another boy said.

"Hold on. Hold on, Zach," Cedric said, and he looked at her. "She did offer to help me." His friends were surprised by that. "I didn't think Potter would win that, though," he said. His expression wasn't cold towards her, but it was definitely a lot less friendly than it used to be. "What did you want to say, Hermione?"

Hermione stared for a moment, unsure what to do. She wanted to pour out her heart to him. She wanted to tell him how much she liked and admired him and how she wished they weren't separated between schools and now by thee Tournament. But her voice wouldn't obey. Not here. Not in public. Not with all his friends glaring at her and the threat that any of this would get back to Rita Skeeter. "I wasn't trying to help Harry beat you," she found herself saying. "Or you, Fleur. I was just trying to help him survive the Task. I honestly didn't think that spell was that powerful. I think this whole Tournament is far too violent and dangerous, and I don't particularly care who wins. I would have shown you that spell if you'd asked me. Even you, Mr. Krum. And Cedric, my offer to help still stands." No, no, no! That's not what I wanted to say at all! Stupid Pepperup jitters! That's not what I meant!

But it was too late. Cedric gave her a look of seeming understanding—a small smile, even—but his friends weren't so charitable: "Cedric's brilliant, Granger. He doesn't need your help."

Almost at the same time, a voice called from behind her, "Hermione come here!"

"But—" she said awkwardly to both statements.

"Hermione!" Ginny hissed. She grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. Hermione started to get angry with her, but then she saw what Ginny wanted her to see: Harry and Ron were standing face to face.

"Ron," she said and started towards them, but Ginny held her back.

"Wait," she whispered.

Ron, to Hermione's surprise, was as white as a sheet and looked almost as scared as she felt. "Harry…" he started, trying to find the words. "I've been an idiot."

"Oh, you finally figured it out, then?" Harry said coldly.

Ron was silent for a minute, looking very uncomfortable, before he finally blurted out, "I'm sorry." What surprised Hermione most was not that he said it, but that he sounded completely sincere. Ron really could be a good person when he tried. There was a loyal, serious side of him showing that she saw far too rarely. "I should've figured you didn't put your name in the Goblet," he went on. "I mean, we knew it was dangerous, but I didn't realise…Well, I reckon there's no way you would've put your own name down for that. Whoever did it must be trying to do you in."

"Again," Harry muttered.

"Yeah, again. That was the scariest thing I've ever seen—well, no, the dementors were probably that, but still, when it got you with that tail, I thought you were gonna die out there…" Ron said. He was trembling slightly. He looked like he might cry, but he didn't. "You asked me for help, mate, and I just told you to shove off when I actually could've maybe done something."

There was another awkward pause. Harry wasn't glaring anymore, but he was clearly weighing whether to press the issue. Hermione desperately wanted to join them, but Ginny kept a tight grip on her shoulder.

"That hurt, Ron," Harry said.

"I know." Ron lowered his gaze.

"And not just because you refused to help."

"Er…?"

"Have you ever known me to lie to you?" he asked.

"No, I don't think so."

"Then why was it so hard for you to believe me this time."

"I was jealous, okay? I know I should be used to it with the Boy-Who-Lived thing, but with you getting all the attention—probably still get it after what you did to that dragon—but I was being stupid and getting mad 'cause it was like I was getting left behind. I'm—I'm just glad you're alright, mate."

"I don't deserve the attention," Harry insisted. "That was all Hermione's idea."

Ron turned and looked at her. He could see at once what Harry hadn't mentioned. She looked completely exhausted. This might have been the hardest week of her life, and that was saying something. "Yeah, well, good on you, Hermione," he said. "You did a hell of a lot more than I could've. Harry, I'm there for you if you need my help again. I promise you that. I don't know if I'm smart enough to do much you, but—"

At this, Hermione finally spoke up: "Honestly, Ron, you're not that stupid. You get mostly good marks, you're surprisingly good at Ancient Runes, and you're a genuine prodigy at strategy. This Task just wasn't designed for your strengths. Honestly, it wasn't even designed for mine. I just got lucky to figure out that spell so fast. Harry's got a clue for the Second Task, now, so maybe it'll be better this time."

"Yeah…hopefully," Ron agreed. "So…" he turned back to Harry again. "Are we good?"

Slowly, Harry grinned: "Yeah, mate, we're good." They shook hands and then pulled into a typical man-hug.

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes. That was Harry—always so forgiving. She wasn't sure she would've—

"And Hermione…" Ron interrupted her thoughts. He was suddenly standing right in front of her. "I was an arse to you, too, and I'm sorry. Are we good, too?"

Hermione worked her mouth a couple of times. She fought the urge to snap at him. It wasn't easy in her present state. "It's not going to be the same as it was, Ron," she said slowly. "That hurt me, what you did, and I know it hurt Harry more. I can forgive what you did, but honestly, I can't just forget about it until you've proved you can do better." He stared at her uncomfortably. "But yes, we're still friends," she finished.

Ron smiled and gave her an awkward hug. "Ginny?" he said.

Thwack!

"OW!"

Ginny smacked Ron in the back of the head hard enough that she almost knocked him off his feet and said, "Now we're good, you prat."

"Hi, Colin," Hermione said. She had caught the overexcited third-year just before dinner for a private chat.

"Huh? Oh, hi, Hermione. What's up?"

The remainder of the afternoon had been busy. Hermione began to receive praise from the Gryffindors (albeit limited) and glares from the other houses as the story began to spread that it was her spell that had helped Harry tie for first. Luna Lovegood came up to her and hugged her, telling her she had scared off every nargle for miles, whatever that meant. Meanwhile, Harry ran up to his dorm and retrieved his communication mirror so he could assure Sirius and Remus that he had survived the First Task. They were immensely relieved, after which Sirius eagerly demanded a blow-by-blow account, which is what reminded Hermione to seek out Colin Creevey. After all, she probably wouldn't have time later—not while she was awake, anyway.

"Okay, Colin, two things," she said. "Number one, I'm not Harry's girlfriend, and I never have been. We're just friends, and I'm helping him with the Tournament."

"Oh, sorry," Colin replied. "I didn't know."

"It's fine," she said. "Number two…" And here, she grinned. "Would you be interested in taking out a joint patent?"

"A joint patent?" he said in confusion.

"Did you see the Patented Wandless Potions Kits in the apothecary this summer?" she asked.

His face brightened at once: "Oh, yeah; that was you, wasn't it?"

"Yes. I had an idea for another patent, but I think I need your help with it."

"Me? What do you need my help for? You're The Arithmancer."

Capital letters again, she thought. She really could hear them. "I know, but you know way more about magical photography than I do. I saw you taking photos today, and I know you develop your own photos. Not many people do that anymore."

"Well, sure. I always wanted to be a professional photographer, and now, I want to be a magical photographer."

"Well, a photographer is exactly what I need. You see, I took an Omniocular Recording of the First Task today. Omnioculars are great for spectator events, but wizards haven't figured out how to use them as actual video cameras yet. You can only play the recordings back through the glasses. But I took them apart to see how they worked earlier this year. The recording is on a pair of crystals, and I think I figured out a way to take any ten seconds out of the recording and transfer it onto magical photographic film."

Colin's eyes grew wide. "You did? That would be awesome! What about with sound? Or stuff like television and computers?"

"They're on my to-do list, but it's a long list," she said. "I don't really have time work it out for myself, what with helping Harry with the Tournament, and I need someone who knows more about photography than I do to work out the details. Are you interested?"

"Are you kidding? That'd be great! If we have a full recording, we could probably get better photos out of it than the Prophet, and we could sell them. And…and if we patent the process, we could make a whole business out of it. You're brilliant, Hermione!" He jumped forward and hugged her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, you mean you could make a business out of it," she corrected. "I've already got a business to run. Plus, keeping Harry alive is a full-time job. I'd be happy just being a silent partner."

"Oh wow!" Colin said. "My own business! Say, would it be okay to get Dennis in on this, too? He's getting pretty good."

"Sure, if you think he can help. I'm fine splitting it three ways. I'm mostly interested in getting the photos off this crystal. I have to go back to France tomorrow, but I wanted to give you enough to get started." She handed him the two items she had brought for him. "This is one of the crystals from the Omnioculars with the recording of the Task on it, and these are my notes on how to transfer the images to film. I'm hoping you can fill in the gaps. Write to me what you find out, and send me copies of the pictures when you're done. Oh, and if you need help, ask Fred and George. I'll explain to them what it's about."

"I will. Thanks a million, Hermione."

There was a big party in the Gryffindor Common Room that evening, which Harry insisted Hermione attend. She reluctantly agreed, even though the Pepperup Potion was wearing off, and she felt like she was in serious danger of falling asleep on her feet. She also still thought it was somewhat in bad taste, given her dislike for the whole Tournament, and the fact that most people still thought Harry had entered himself, but Harry was too happy to be alive and to have Ron back as a friend to care. So, weary and yawning frequently, she went in.

Predictably, George and Fred (with the help of some kitchen elves, she was sure) had gone all out, and there were cakes, pumpkin juice, butterbeer, and fireworks galore. Shortly after Harry walked in, the Twins lifted him up on their shoulders and called, "Three cheers for Harry Potter, the Dragonmaster!"

To Harry's credit, when the cheers died down, he raised his hand for quiet and said, "Thanks guys, but the real winner is Hermione. That whole thing was her idea. She invented the spells from scratch, and she taught them to me. I never could have done it without her."

Hermione blushed at the attention, and before she knew what had happened, the Twins had put Harry down, and she yelped as they lifted her on their shoulders and said, "Three cheers for Hermione Granger, the Great Arithmancer!"

"Give her a place to stand—" George added.

"—and she will move the earth!" Fred finished.

"George! Fred! Put me down," she said when the cheering died away. She had had far too much excitement for one very long day—three days—and she really wanted to go to bed.

Fortunately (for her, at least), the attention turned back to Harry and the golden egg he had won from the dragon, which was supposed to contain a clue to the Second Task.

"Open it, Harry!" Lee Jordan said. "Let's see what's in it."

"You want me to open it?" he said. The crowd cheered. That was a surprise to Hermione. She had never seen him play to a crowd like that—well, sort of in Quidditch. He must be even more excited than she thought.

"You really want me to open it?" he repeated.

"Yeah!" the crowd yelled.

"Alright, then." Harry twisted a knob on top of the egg, and it popped open, revealing…"A Rubik's Cube?" he said. He lifted a multi-coloured block out of its setting and tentatively twisted one of the sides. "Yep, that's a Rubik's Cube."

"What's a Rubik's Cube?" Lee Jordan said.

"It's a muggle puzzle," he said. "You twist the sides until they're all solid colours." He twisted it a few more times to demonstrate. His face fell a little. "Dudley had one of these. I fiddled with it for weeks off and on, but I never solved it."

"Well, it can't be that hard," Fred said. Harry handed him the cube, and he started twisting with slowly growing frustration.

Hermione eyed the puzzle intently. It certainly wasn't what she had been expecting. It wasn't an actual Rubik's Cube, of course. It was about twice the size, seemed to be made of ceramic, and the orange face had been changed to purple to match the heraldic colours wizards seemed to love so much. Fred kept at it for a couple of minutes, but only succeeded in getting a few squares together. Eventually, he gave up and passed it to George. George didn't fare much better, and he passed it to Ron, but even Hogwarts' resident chess master couldn't work it out. He actually got a whole face, but he couldn't figure out how to get more pieces correct without messing that part up. It went through a couple of other hands before someone made the obvious connection: "I bet Hermione can solve it."

There was vociferous agreement from the other Gryffindors, and Hermione said, "Alright, alright, I will save the day again." She took the cube in hand and started twisting. It was a lot harder than she remembered. She'd lost interest in these sorts of puzzles a while ago, and she couldn't focus nearly as well as usual. She had to go through some of the combinations of moves a couple of times to remember them correctly. Once, she nearly had it solved, and she wound up nearly scrambling it completely again, but it eventually came together. "Come on, come on, I can do this; I can do this…" she whispered to herself. "Got it!" she made the final move, solving the cube with an odd click, and it popped open.

Harry's jaw dropped. "Hermione," he said in awe, "you just solved that in, like, two minutes."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I'm dead tired, and I'm really out of practice," she replied.

There was some laughter. Harry had no idea how to respond to that, so he didn't.

"Let's see what's inside," she said. Wrapped around the mechanism of the cube in a way that ought to have been geometrically impossible was a folded piece of parchment. She took it out and unfolded it. The style was unmistakable: "It's a pirate map."

"A pirate map?" Harry said in confusion.

Hermione yawned and shook her head to clear it. "Well, that's certainly what it looks like," she said. "I assume it tells you where to find whatever you're supposed to find in the Second Task. Say, Ron…" She yawned again. "This is, uh…This might be something you can help with. You know…strategy." She handed the map to Harry and yawned again.

She could tell she was down for the count. She turned to her old roommates and asked, "Lav? Parv? Can I crash with you for the night?"

"Of course, Hermione," Parvati said. "You look really exhausted. Take as long as you need."

"Great…I'm gonna go to sleep now." Hermione passed out on her feet and fell into her friends arms.

She woke the next day in her old four-poster bed in Gryffindor Tower. Lavender and Parvati must have carried her up the seven flights to their room while she slept. She'd have to be sure to thank them. The dorm was empty at the moment, and sunlight was streaming in through the windows. She checked the clock and was surprised to see that it was half past noon. It definitely hadn't been a good idea to skip on sleep for that second night. She had slept for sixteen hours.

She really hoped she didn't have to do that again.

A/N: Supplanta: Latin for "trip".