Hermione gasped as the handsome young man barely avoided the whistling ball from the nostrils of the brilliant red and gold creature thrashing about. She'd grabbed Harry's arm without noticing and the boy merely grinned when she finally realized and apologized. It was a relief when Viktor Krum finally swept the golden egg into his arms from where it had lain amidst the broken shells of the others. She thought they might be real, and the loss of the little creatures that had possibly been inside was a painful thought, though lasted only until the judges called out the scores for the three champions.

Krum and Delacour were officially tied at forty points apiece- Krum having lost points from the destruction of the eggs and the Beauxbtons' student from the slight singe she'd received from her own dragon. Cedric was only two points below the pair, though it galled the Hogwarts students that that technically meant he was last place.

For days all anyone could talk about was the first task and the harrowing ordeal the Champions had overcome in defeating the dragons, as well as speculating on what the next task might be. As was her wont, Hermione spent her time in the library and with her boys. While the three often accompanied her, she managed to find herself alone amongst the books now and then.

And when she was, she'd notice an uptick of tittering girls wandering the shelves as they followed behind the hulking figure of Viktor Krum.

He seemed to be everywhere Hermione looked these days- in the library when she was looking for references or reading material, walking around the lake when she sat in the grass of the cooling autumn as the boys flew during their free time. She thought she caught his gaze on her a few times, her face flushing hotly whenever their eyes met, but surely it was coincidence.

That was what she had to tell herself, knowing that she, while pretty (Lady Narcissa had told her as much and emphasized the importance of appearance in society, teaching Hermionehow to deal with her unruly brown curls, shrinking her over large front teeth, imparting the most important of self-care regimens and cosmetic spells upon the girl), she as no great beauty. Who would look twice at the wide-eyed bookworm when there was a stunning young woman like Fleur Delacour around?

She saw the way Draco, Ron, and Harry had all looked at the pale, slender blonde. Hermione couldn't blame them. Like the woman with whom she lived, Fleur enchanted everyone around her. She even shared the coloring of the Malfoys, her refined French features even more delicate and lovely.

Hermione was proven wrong in her doubts when, the day after the Yule Ball was announced, someone tapped her shoulder as she perused the books in the Arithmancy section.

She turned, brows furrowing as she prepared to tell whichever of the three- blond, brunet, ginger- had interrupted her and stopped short as she peered up into the dark eyes of the Durmstrang student.

At her no-doubt shocked expression, he said, "I am sorry if I haff startled you."

Hermione closed her mouth sharply and shook her head, trying to regain herself. "Oh, no. Not at all."

He smiled shyly, wringing his large, calloused hands. "I haff noticed you here in the library. You are quite studious." At her nod, he continued. "I am Viktor, Viktor Krum. From Durmstrang," he added hurriedly.

A curious smile had started pulling at Hermione's mouth as well, her fingers playing nervously against the edges of the book she held to her chest. "I know," she replied without thinking, cheeks instantly flaring. Hermione introduced herself hurriedly to cover the faux pas. "I'm Hermione Granger."

They stared at each other for a moment, neither quite still, nor comfortable with breaking the tension. Viktor ran a hand over his closely cropped hair and cleared his throat. "I vas vondering if you might, ah, accompany me to the Yule Ball? If you are not vith one of the boys- that is, I imagine a girl like you might haff someone- if you haff no date yet."

"No!" She said quickly, then stumbled out, "I don't have a date, that is. And I would love to. Go with you."

A grin slowly unfurled across his face, lighting up his dark eyes, and Hermione's stomach fluttered warmly. "Oh. Good. Great. I vill meet you outside the Great Hall before the ball, yes? Ve vill haff to dance to open the ball."

She beamed up at him, having slowly moved close enough she could almost feel the warmth radiating from the large young man. "Yes. I look forward to it."

He murmured another, "Good," awkwardly and finally wandered away, leaving the fourth year student giddy and dizzy in his wake.

Professor Riddle had asked her to stay after and speak with him, which was never a hardship. Besides being her favorite professor and Hermione being the consummate teacher's pet, there was also the matter of his appearance.

"What did you want to see me for, professor?" She asked, suppressing the urge to fidget as she stood in front of his desk. She had finally admit to herself last year that she had a slight crush on Professor Riddle. He was brilliant, charismatic, and beautiful beyond what any human being had the right to be. He was artwork, like da Vinci's David made flesh. Draco had teased her about it and she suspected Harry knew; Ron was oblivious.

He smiled a slightly crooked smile at her that made him seem younger somehow, almost like a student himself. Hermione had no idea how old he actually was, but he couldn't be too old. Twenties, maybe thirty? "Yes, thank you for staying behind." He gestured for her to follow him and they stepped out, walking to his office as he started to speak. "I wanted to discuss this before the holidays, since I've no doubt you we will want ample time to research. I'm working on a proposal for the concept currently, but I've no doubt Horace- the headmaster- will approve it, especially with you as my student assistant." Hermione frowned, but stayed quiet. Upon entering his office he bade her have a seat across from him at his little seating area. "I'm starting an advanced DADA club at the school, open only to fifth years and above. I would like you to be my student assistant. As such, you would help draw up the proposal, the charter for the club, and the range of its purview."

"Oh!" Hermione clapped her hands together excitedly, eyes shining. "I'd be honored, Professor."

The smile returned to his face, a touch brighter now. "I'd hoped as much. You'll want to look into the organization of other clubs and the history of various organizations in the school, of course. We will be submitting the proposal late next semester and I expect to hit the ground running next year."

She nodded, mind already drawing up a list of items to look into and books she could reference in the library. "Thank you so much, professor. I'll get on researching immediately."

Professor Riddle chuckled. "Don't worry yourself too much over it; we have plenty of time, after all."

"Worry?" Hermione blinked, pulling herself out of her whirring thoughts. "Not at all! This is just the project I need for the year. I've been wanting to get more involved somehow."

"You are the most organized student I know, Hermione. I knew you were perfect for this task."

She beamed, something warm expanding in her chest as he called her by her first name. He only did that with his very favorite students, and not often. "You won't regret it, Professor."

His charcoal eyes weighed her. "I know I won't." He shuffled some papers, then glanced up at her as if in afterthought. "Will you be going to the Yule Ball? I am to chaperone."

"Yes," she said. Hermione had thought their meeting was at an end and had started for the door already, but turned back to Professor Riddle.

"You're being escorted by Draco, I assume?" His eyes were scanning the essay currently at the top of his stack. At Hermione's light laugh, he looked back up at her.

"No," she replied. "I don't think Draco has even thought of asking anyone yet, let alone me."

"Do you not have a date yet?"

She shifted from one foot to another, flushing red. "I'm going with Viktor Krum."

Professor Riddle's head snapped up at that, lips pursing, the slightest crease forming between his brows. She fidgeted under his scrutiny, suddenly wondering if he thought it disloyal, going to the ball with the Durmstrang Champion. The entire tournament was supposed to be about international camaraderie, wasn't it? Surely she wasn't doing something wrong. After a long pause, Professor Riddle nodded. "I am sure he will be a perfect gentleman," he said at last. "Go on, Miss Granger. I must get to these essays."

Hermione parted his office, puzzling over the interaction as she made her way to study with the boys.