A/N: As much as I'd like to, I can't have action in every chapter. I can, however, do my best to try and make them interesting. We see some of Hermione and Harry's plans start to take shape, and now I can finally begin writing the more fun chapters!
I still don't own Harry Potter or any associated characters.
As always thanks to my beta reader marvelousromulus
The Great Hall was filled with an eerie, shocked silence.
"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore repeated, louder this time.
Hermione gave Harry a slight nudge as she released his hand, flashing him a sympathetic look. With a deep sigh, he rose from his seat. His footsteps echoed throughout the room as he made a beeline for the door at the rear of the Great Hall. As Harry walked straight past him, Dumbledore's face was expressionless, and the twinkle in his eye glimmered solemnly.
-:-:-:-
"So," Cedric said, smiling slightly as he and Harry walked back from the champions room. "I guess we're gonna be playing against each other this year too."
Harry exhaled loudly. He certainly wasn't in the mood for this, especially not after the rather draining conversation in the champions' meeting room following his selection. At least Dumbledore was still calm and understanding this time around.
"I didn't put my name in the Goblet Cedric," Harry said to the older boy beside him.
Cedric looked at him skeptically.
"But your name came- " he started before Harry cut him off.
"I almost die every year and I'm already too famous for my liking," Harry explained. "Why would I willingly enter myself in the tournament?"
Cedric seemed to consider this as the two reached the entrance hall. After a while, he nodded.
"I suppose that makes sense," he mused, rubbing his chin. "You'd better be careful though. If whoever entered you wants you dead…" Cedric's voice trailed off.
"I'm rather used to it at this point," Harry muttered.
They reached the marble staircase where their paths diverged.
"Well… I guess I'll see you then," Cedric said, making for the door to the side.
"See you later Cedric," Harry said.
The Fat Lady's portrait swung open to let Harry into the Gryffindor common room. He was instantly met with an explosion of noise as the entire Gryffindor house faced him, screaming and applauding wildly.
Fred and George appeared next to him, almost shaking with excitement.
"How'd you do it, Harry?" Fred asked.
"You made it past the age line too," George exclaimed. "Without growing a beard!"
"Granger wouldn't tell us," Fred whined. "Did she help?"
"No, and I don't know who entered my name," Harry said, shaking his head. The common room was in full party mode, thanks to the Weasley twins. Streamers hung haphazardly from the ceiling and there was an abundance of butterbeer and food, undoubtedly stolen from the kitchens after the feast. But Harry wasn't in the mood for a party, how could he be? He looked around desperately for Hermione as the crowd descended around him, still cheering his name.
Everyone wanted to know how he did it. How he got past the age line to put his name in the goblet. He pushed aside offers of food and ignored the shouted congratulations as Lee Jordan draped a Gryffindor banner over his shoulders like a victorious knight's cloak. Nobody seemed to notice how Harry wanted to be anywhere else but there at that moment.
"I'm just trying to get to my room," he said tiredly.
A hand found him, and Harry felt himself being pulled through the crowd. He saw a mess of chestnut hair leading him towards the dormitory steps.
Hermione turned as they reached the edge of the throng of ecstatic Gryffindors, pulling him into a hug.
"I'm so sorry Harry," she whispered.
He shook his head. "S'okay."
"I'm going to bed, and it might be a good idea for you too," she said, glaring around the room. "Meet me in the common room at six tomorrow morning?" Hermione said, moving towards the stairs.
Harry nodded. "See you tomorrow Hermione."
He watched her go up the steps to the girls' dorms, only heading up to his own dorm once she had disappeared at the top.
The dormitory was empty, except for Ron, who was laying on his bed fully dressed. As Harry entered the room, Ron looked up at him, a forced grin splayed across his freckled face.
A pit dropped in Harry's stomach; he had been dreading this moment.
"Congratulations," Ron said without a trace of sincerity.
Harry looked at him for a second, remembering the banner draped around him like an improvised cloak. Struggling with the knot that fastened it, Harry cast a non-verbal Diffindo at the banner, shrugging off the now torn fabric. A distracted Ron didn't notice one bit.
"How'd you do it?" Ron asked curiously. "Was it the cloak, 'cause even Fred and George weren't able to-"
"I didn't put my name in Ron," Harry said matter-of-factly, hoping to head off the confrontation he knew was broiling under the surface. "Someone put it in to try and kill me."
The redhead's face darkened. "You can tell me Harry, I won't tell anyone else if you don't want me to. You didn't get in trouble, and they're even letting you participate in it! Why lie anymore, you know?"
He continued, his face taking on an enviously wistful expression. "Think of it, a thousand Galleons, no final exams, international fame…"
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation.
"Ron, why would I want this? I already hate my fame for being the supposed 'Boy-Who-Lived,' so what makes you think I'd enter into this mess of a tournament?"
"And yet here you are, famous again!" Ron snapped. "Couldn't let anyone else have a moment, could you?"
"Oh and I suppose you would've preferred it if your name came out instead of mine?" Harry retorted.
Ron scowled at him. "Might want to get to bed, Harry, so you don't miss your photoshoot tomorrow." He drew the curtains around his bed furiously, leaving Harry standing alone next to his bed, the tatters of a Gryffindor banner scattered around the floor beneath him.
"Well," Harry murmured to himself, regarding the closed scarlet curtains around his friend's bed. "That went just great."
-:-:-:-
Sunday morning, Harry woke up before sunrise. Stealing a glance at the still-drawn curtains around his friend's bed, he quietly slipped into his robes. Expecting a walk outside, he grabbed his jacket and tiptoed downstairs to the common room.
Hermione sat in an armchair by the smoldering fireplace, a notebook sat beside her and wearing a jacket of her own. She looked up as Harry approached, giving him a soft smile.
"Good morning," he said, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
"Hello," she said, standing and stretching. Reaching for her notebook, Hermione motioned towards the portrait hole.
"Want to go for a walk?"
They walked downstairs through the deserted castle, passing by the Great Hall without a second glance. It was still dark out, and rather chilly. The Durmstrang ship bobbed up and down in the black water, creating gentle ripples across the otherwise flat lake.
"How are you holding up?" Hermione asked as they made their way down towards the lake.
"Ron is being as stubborn as expected, but that's the least of my worries," he said. "We have so much to do, and we haven't made any progress."
"I know," Hermione said, looking across the lake at the forest beyond. "It's been a big adjustment for both of us, but especially you because of this whole tournament."
Harry didn't reply.
"Ron will come around Harry," she said consolingly. "Even if he doesn't, I'm still here."
"Thank you."
Reaching the lake, they kept walking along the rocky shore, a comfortable silence hanging between them.
"We need to prioritize what needs to get done," Hermione said after a while. "Since we know that the earliest Voldemort can come back is during the third task, we have time to work with."
Harry grimaced. "I'd also like to try and not have that happen."
Hermione gave him a pained look as they continued to wind their way around the lake. "It might have to happen, Harry, otherwise Voldemort might find a different way and then all our knowledge of the future is useless."
"This is so infuriating," Harry said, kicking a rock.
"Yes, it is," Hermione sighed.
Coming across a clearing by the lake, Hermione pulled her notebook out of her robes.
"Let's stop here for a bit," she said. "We need to talk and make an actual plan."
She settled against a dormant cherry blossom tree in the middle of the clearing and motioned for Harry to sit next to her. He did, and she opened her notebook and took out a pen.
"If you knew how you were going to die, how would you live your life differently?" Hermione asked bluntly. "I've been thinking about this ever since we were sent back, but I want to hear what you're going to say."
"Uh, um," Harry stuttered, caught off guard. "There's got to be a ton, but it's a bit of an overwhelming question."
Hermione nodded understandingly. "Sorry, you're right," she said. "I'll just start with upcoming events and work from there."
"What's your plan for the first task?"
"I could try flying again," Harry said. "It worked last time."
Hermione bit her lip. "Yes, it worked last time," she said reproachfully. "But you got hurt last time, remember."
"Maybe I change up what I do on the broom?" he asked.
"Hmm, maybe," Hermione mused. "Just try and be more careful this time around. We should probably start making a better plan for the Second Task as well." She made a couple of notes in the book.
"Absolutely," Harry agreed. "I took much too long last time, and I don't want you there any longer than you have to be."
"Harry," Hermione said, confused. "I wasn't your hostage, remember?"
"It's going to be you this time, Hermione," he said sincerely.
Her cheeks flushed slightly. It might just be the cold, Harry reasoned. But the burning in his own cheeks made him doubtful.
"For the second task," Hermione continued as her blush subsided, "we should probably look into tracking charms, and maybe the bubblehead charm as a backup for gillyweed."
"But I already know the bubblehead charm," Harry said, looking at her in confusion.
"Yes," Hermione said, "But it's rather odd for a fourth year to know them without prior practice. Or at least pretending to practice."
Harry thought back to last night with a frown. "I think I might've done a non-verbal charm in front of Ron."
"Oh no," Hermione's hand flew to her mouth. "Did he notice?"
"No," Harry said. "Too busy being jealous."
"We need to be more careful with things like that," Hermione remarked.
As they discussed their plans for the upcoming tasks, the sky touching the hills beyond the castle began to glow orange. Hermione set aside her notebook as the first rays touched the highest towers of Hogwarts.
"You want to watch the sunrise, don't you," Harry smirked.
Hermione grinned. "As long as you don't mind taking a little break from planning."
"Not at all."
Golden light spilled over the hills, piercing the clouds above the lake and making them sparkle. The brilliant orange glow on the horizon gradually grew brighter, with the crescent of the sun casting dazzling colors across the lake and the nearby forest.
Hermione shifted next to Harry, moving closer to him before laying her head on his shoulder. He rested his cheek on the top of her head, and the two of them sat together peacefully until the sun had fully risen over Hogwarts.
Reaching for her notebook once again, Hermione gently moved her head off Harry's shoulder and Harry's cheek complained about the sudden loss of heat.
"Sorry, but we need to get back to-"
With a snap of his fingers, Harry remembered part of his conversation with Ron the morning before.
"I need to send a letter to Sirius," he said. "It's been so long, I want to see… He'll want to know about my inclusion in the tournament."
"That's a great idea, Harry," Hermione said. "Maybe you can ask him if you can stay with him over the summer too, rather than returning to your relatives!"
"Dumbledore's not going to like that," Harry said.
"There's no way you're going back to those people," Hermione said resolutely. "That reminds me, we need to figure out how Dumbledore plays into this."
"It wasn't until around sixth year when Dumbledore actually started preparing me for Voldemort," Harry reflected. "But I already know everything he would show me, and he didn't exactly prepare me to fight Voldemort."
"No he didn't," Hermione said. "None of us were prepared to fight Voldemort."
"I know Hermione," Harry said. "I saw him kill you after I convinced Death to send you back with me. We were completely outmatched."
"You saw me die?" Hermione exclaimed. "Oh, Harry."
She buried him in a hug, with Harry meeting her embrace.
"It's alright now," he said shakily as they both withdrew. "But that's why we need to stop Voldemort's resurrection. Stop him and stop the war."
Hermione shook her head. "I don't think that's possible Harry." At his confused look, she set her notebook back on the ground.
"Look, we can definitely start getting rid of Horcruxes to make it easier, but I don't think we can avoid a war. Death himself said that your destiny involves defeating Voldemort, and I don't think that involves just stopping his resurrection. Besides, there's still Death Eaters out there with or without him. This is a culture war too, divided between opposing ideologies."
Relenting, Harry raised his hands in agreement. "Okay, let's talk Horcruxes then."
"Right," Hermione said. "We know where they all are, and there's five left."
"The snake, the cup, the locket, the ring, and the diadem," Harry agreed. "We can take care of the locket and diadem pretty easily, but I don't know where the ring is exactly and Gringotts isn't going to be easy to get into."
Suddenly, his eyes widened. "The snake - Nagini - it was in the graveyard when Voldemort is resurrected," he exclaimed.
"I told you we wouldn't be able to avoid some things even if we tried," Hermione said grimly. "I don't know how we'd go about destroying the Horcruxes though, since Dumbledore would notice if we were to borrow the Sword of Gryffindor. Maybe we could make a trip to the Chamber of Secrets and get some basilisk fangs?"
"We'll have to look more into it," Harry agreed. "I just wish Dumbledore taught me more about dueling or just how to fight. We lost once, and I don't see how we'd beat Voldemort this time if he comes back"
"Then we'll just teach ourselves how to fight properly then. Leave the planning and research up to me," Hermione said firmly. "We're going to war, Harry. Maybe not for a while, but there's no avoiding it."
She stood, her eyes blazing. "And I intend for us to be ready when it does."