Harry returned to Hogwarts after three days, slipping in late on Wednesday night after the school-wide curfew had already been enforced. He said goodbye to Sirius in the Entrance Hall, picked up a note from Professor Flitwick that gave him permission to be out of bed after-hours, then solemnly made his way up the Main Staircase.

But he had no intention of returning to the Ravenclaw Common Room and his bed. At least not until he had attended to another matter that demanded his attention. So, instead of following the path all the way to the Fifth Floor, and the turn-off that led to Ravenclaw Tower, Harry left the staircase on the Third Floor, hurrying along the once-locked corridor and stopping at the trapdoor in the floor about half way down.

Then, after checking that he was alone, he pulled open the heavy trapdoor, took a look into the darkness, then jumped in … falling down, down, down, until he landed on the Devil's Snare that lived there. A quick jet of emerald green flames from his wand and Harry was free, leaping clear before setting off along the maze of dark tunnels that would eventually lead him to the Chamber of Secrets.

Now Harry knew very well that there was a surface entrance in one of the girl's toilets, but he had never fancied sticking his face where however many naked girly private bits had been just so he could access the Chamber from there. He was more than comfortable in the dark and dank of these underground spaces. Besides, it was a far more sanitary route in his opinion.

And it was a route he literally knew in the dark. So soon enough he found himself emerging from the draughty passageway and facing the large, ornate, circular doorway to the Chamber of Secrets, whispering the 'open' command in Parseltongue to the seven carved serpents depicted there, watching them move and slither as the door slowly opened.

Then Harry hurried inside. Marici, Harry's pet basilisk, raised her great head to him as soon as she heard his footsteps. She knew not to invoke her Language of The Eyes when she looked at him, so he was quite safe. One of the misconceptions Harry had soon learned about basilisks was that the stare killed arbitrarily, but that was a mistake.

For 'The Stare' was a language, capable of healing as well as harming and completely under the great serpent's control. In conjunction with tail flicks, patterns made by Marici's tongue and blinking sequences to denote inflection and meaning, Harry very quickly understood that to speak Parseltongue as a Master was far more than simply making hissing sounds and hoping for the best.

But by now he was adept at the language, mimicking the speech patterns as best he could by making angular twists with his tongue and using his fingers to gesticulate in the absence of a tail. He combined all these techniques to speak to his pet in some urgency now.

"How is Hermione? Have you been watching her?" Harry asked.

Marici nodded her head. "Yes."

"And?" Harry demanded, impatiently.

"The duck-boy pays her lots of attention," Marici replied. "Some she knows about, some she does not."

"What does that mean?"

"In the library, she sees him. At meal times, she knows where he is. But when she walks the grounds alone, or moves between classrooms, she does not know that he watches, sometimes follows."

"Krum follows Hermione?" Harry hissed angrily. "You saw this?"

"Yes, and I follow his scent also," the basilisk confirmed. "He keeps a distance mostly, but not always. He has spoken with her on three occasions since you went away, Harry. Once at the feast, and twice more in the library for much longer times. They spoke at length about a golden egg, mer-people and the Great Lake. Duck-boy wanted your friend to give him a tour around the lake, but they were interrupted by other girls who took your friend away."

"Well, at least that's something," Harry huffed. "As long as Hermione is alright … she is alright, isn't she?"

"She is unharmed," Marici confirmed.

"Good. Thank you, Chi, for watching over her for me. I appreciate it."

"There is something, Harry, that you might want to know," the basilisk went on. "Hedwig came to me yesterday, said she had seen Duck-Boy in the cabin of his ship. He was laying out all his garments, putting ones aside that had scarlet and gold on them."

"So? Why are you telling me that?"

"Hedwig says these were smart garments, dress-robes," Marici explained. "Scarlet and gold are the colours of your friend's House, are they not? He may have been wanted to match outfits with her, should they go to a party together. Hedwig thought this was important."

Harry snatched in a hissed breath … the Yule Ball! Krum was thinking of inviting Hermione to the Yule Ball! Perhaps he already had. Harry felt a sharp stab in his chest at the possibility. He massaged his sternum at the very real pain that had struck him there.

Saying goodnight to Marici, Harry hurried away, taking the underground route that intersected the secret passage to Honeydukes, before eventually emerging back into the shadowy corridors of Hogwarts. He was in bed a short while later, but he knew that he had little chance of sleep. He was just too restless.

And the reason was simple … he didn't want Hermione to go to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum. But more than that, Harry thought he might actually like her to go with him.

It was a truth as complete as it was surprising. The idea had taken root in Harry's mind when Luna casually suggested it, and it had been growing there ever since. Harry thought how nice it would be to spend a whole evening with Hermione. They didn't have to dance or do any of that kind of silliness, but they could have a long, amiable chat and simply enjoy each other's company, discussing their letters in person and laugh about how they'd barely known each other only a few short weeks ago.

But now Viktor Krum was going to put a spanner in the works. Harry wasn't insensible to the nature of the Bulgarian's interest in Hermione … he wasn't naive on that score. But Harry saw it as an insult, an arrogant presumption that a witch like Hermione would be interested in him, when they hadn't even spoken two words to each other. She wouldn't have wanted to know him at all.

Though then, Harry remembered, he'd have said the same thing about himself and Hermione before they started writing to each other.

And maybe Hermione was attracted by Krum's fame. She didn't seem the type, but Harry couldn't claim to know her well enough to be sure of that. There was so much he hadn't known about her until her letters gave Harry a glimpse of her true character. And after all, Hermione had been interested in his fame, albeit not as much as the standard member of the Magical World, so maybe she was interested in Krum in the same way.

For there were similarities between himself and Krum, Harry accepted. Both famous, both relatively young, both known for their sullen broodiness. It seemed quite possible to Harry that Hermione might have had a genuine interest in Krum, as she'd had in him, so naturally she'd be curious and keen to get to know him, especially as it provided a chance to mingle with someone from a different magical culture.

In such a circumstance she'd be likely to accept any offer he made to her … and Harry found that the idea bothered him greatly.

Though it had no reason to. He didn't like Krum, that was for certain, but if Hermione liked him then it was nothing to do with Harry. He barely knew the girl, and he had no right to be angry if she spent time with someone just because Harry didn't like him. Yes, her friends were concerned about the situation, too, but they could look out for her and make sure she was alright.

Harry was just her penpal. That's all it was … was all Harry ever wanted it to be, and that was how it was going to stay. There would be none of this meeting up in person nonsense, Harry was resolved to that now.

And it was a resolve that lasted until Friday lunchtime, when Harry ran into Viktor Krum in the library.

It wasn't actually so much running into Krum as it was the Bulgarian limping over to Harry in his flat-footed way and hovering about awkwardly, until Harry had no choice but to acknowledge him. He'd been delaying as long as possible, finding his very presence a source of serious annoyance.

"Can I help you?" Harry eventually asked in a curt tone.

Krum seemed taken aback by Harry's bullishness. "I was wondering, can I sit here a moment?"

"There are no rules against that in this school," Harry returned coolly. "If the chair is free, it's yours to use."

"No, what I meant was, can I sit here and talk to you a moment?"

Harry couldn't help but be surprised by that, but he recovered his sullen side quickly enough. "If you want, though I can't imagine what you'd have to talk to me about."

"It is about Hermy-Own-Ninny."

"About what?" Harry asked, confused. "What is that? Bulgarian stew or something?"

"I do not understand."

"Neither do I."

"I wish to discuss the matter of Hermy-Own-Ninny, your friend from Gryffindor," Krum explained in a broken sort of way.

"Oh … do you mean Hermione?" Harry exclaimed.

"This is what I said … Hermy-Own-Ninny."

"That's not how you … nevermind. What do want to talk to me about her for?"

"I want to know … what is there between you?" Krum demanded frankly.

Now Harry was definitely taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

"Hermy-Own-Ninny talks about you very often," Krum went on. "I try to make conversation with her, but all the time it is, 'Harry Potter, Harry Potter'. So I ask again … what is there between you?"

"Sorry, mate, but that's none of your business," Harry returned firmly. "I don't know you at all and I have no intention of discussing my relationships with you."

"Ah, so you are in a relationship with Hermy-Own-Ninny?"

"Like I said … I'm not going to discuss things that don't concern you."

"Oh, but it does concern me," Krum replied in a low voice. "For I intend to ask Hermy-Own-Ninny to the Ball to be thrown at Hogwarts. If that is going to be a problem to you, I need to know."

Harry was totally thrown by that. The whole notion of he and Hermione appearing to be in a relationship was wild enough, but the idea that Viktor Krum, older boy and International Quidditch hero and all that, was here challenging him, treating him as a real rival, made Harry feel as if he had grown several inches in stature.

And that very notion drove Harry to decide to act like a rival.

For the one key piece of information that Harry had gleaned from this was that Krum hadn't asked Hermione to the Ball yet. He was obviously going to, and Hermione might prefer to accept his offer, but as of now that event hadn't happened. Harry still had a chance.

"Well yes, actually, Krum, that will be a problem," Harry replied sternly. "For you see, I have a problem with Hermione spending any time with someone who cant even say her name properly. It's insulting that you cant even get that right, and you don't deserve to be within three feet of her if you refuse to try."

"My accent makes this difficult," Krum scowled back. "Your comment is racially motivated."

"Nonsense, you're just too dumb to pronounce the word properly," Harry volleyed back. "Hermy-Own-Ninny … it's not even close! You disrespect her by being so wildly off. I wont let her be around someone who might dumb her down."

"That is not your choice to make," Krum fumed. "I will let her make the decision."

"Go ahead and try, but expect to be disappointed," Harry replied smugly. "For you're too late, Krum … Hermione is already going with someone."

Krum tensed at the news. "She is? Who?"

"That's none of your -"

"Who!" Krum thundered, disturbing several other students nearby. Harry was angered by the extra attention drawn to them. He rounded on Krum with a firm look.

"Hermione is going with me."

Krum slumped back in his chair. "I suspected as much, but Hermy-Own-Ninny was very cagey about it when I asked. No matter, I will ask her anyway."

"Didn't you hear me?" Harry hissed. "Hermione is already going with me. Why would you ask her knowing that?"

"To give her an option," Krum replied simply. "She may have said yes to you, but that was before she knew of my interest. As soon as she does, I am confident she will change her mind. Sorry to disappoint you, Harry Potter."

"Not as sorry as you'll be when Hermione tells you to sod off," Harry scythed. "And I really hope I'm there to see it."

"The only thing you will see is Hermy-Own-Ninny and I in matching dress robes, when I escort her to the Ball as my date. Then you will see that I have won."

"Hermione is not a prize in some stupid contest, you creepy oaf!" Harry cried. "And the very fact that you think she is shows precisely why she'll reject your advances. I got you to leave Sally-Anne Perks alone and I don't even like her … don't test me when it comes to Hermione, Krum … for I really do like that witch."

"If you boys cannot keep your voices down I will have to insist that you leave immediately," Madam Pince, the Librarian, told them off firmly as she came over. "This is a quiet space and if you cannot observe that quiet then you will have to go."

"I was just leaving anyway," Harry said as he stood up. "I don't like the smell in here. Stinks like a duck's arse."

Then Harry glowered once more at Viktor Krum, before snatching up his things and storming out of the library. Krum sat there looking confused and bewildered a moment, as though that meeting hadn't gone at all like he had expected. After a few minutes, he too stood up and left.

It was at that point that Hermione Granger, who had been watching the whole exchange from a hidden spot behind a nearby bookshelf, let out the stunned breath that she'd been holding for the entire time and allowed her heart to start beating again, which it did in earnest.

Emerging from her hiding spot, and feeling dazed by the contents of the conversation she'd just overheard, Hermione sat in the seat that Harry had just vacated. It was still warm, which Hermione found comforting and, oddly, made her feel a little racy, on account of the part of Harry's body that had generated it. That caused her own heat to steal across her cheeks in a crimson blush, which she fanned away with her shaking hands.

She couldn't believe what had just happened. Harry Potter and Viktor Krum had just been rowing about which one of them was going to take her to the Yule Ball! How had things come to this? She was Hermione Granger, bookworm, wall-flower, bossy know-it-all, nobody's idea of attractive … but two of the most illustrious boys at Hogwarts were just fighting over her and who was going to take her on a date! How bizarre was that?

Hermione allowed her vanity to be flattered a moment by the mere notion. Imagine if the other girls of her dorm had seen that? What things they would say to her then! The teasing would be relentless, but it would be much more complimentary than that which was usually doled out to her. Harry and Krum, fighting over her! Hermione couldn't keep the notion steady in her mind.

But she knew that she had a decision to make, not that there was any doubt in her mind about what she was going to do. This was just all so strange. Krum didn't know her at all, but wanted to ask her out … Harry hardly knew her that much better, in truth, but had told Krum that he was already going to the Ball with her, which wasn't true at all.

Now why had he done that? This was Hermione's biggest conundrum.

There were a multitude of reasons, of course. Harry had confessed to disliking Krum and could have said what he did to get him to back off from Hermione. That made perfect sense, but it would also mean that Harry would eventually have to ask Hermione to the Ball, which she somehow didn't think he'd find the courage to do. He wasn't a Gryffindor, after all, and his shyness might prevent him asking the question.

But that explanation didn't satisfy Hermione … and she knew perfectly well why. She didn't want Harry to take her to the Ball out of any sort of obligation, or a sense of chivalry, just to protect her from an older boy that he didn't trust. If she was going to go with him, it had to be for the right reasons. He had to want to be there with her and for that reason alone. Nothing else would do.

And Hermione had to find out if that was a possibility. So she dove into her school satchel and pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment and some ink, then sat down to write.

It would be the shortest letter yet.

Harry - we need to talk … urgently.

Please meet me tonight at 9pm, on top of the Astronomy Tower. I'll explain everything then. Please be there. I'll be waiting.

From Hermione.

Then she folded the letter carefully and left the library, heading straight for the Owlery. She just hoped Hedwig would be willing to play courier after being disturbed from her sleep.

Enjoying this story? Check out some of the others in my portfolio and don't forget my crossovers! They're worth a go, honest! Thanks for reading, and stay safe in these wacky times!