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┄┄ .•* 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟖 *•. ┄┄
𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠
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Everybody got up late on Boxing Day. The Gryffindor common room was much quieter than it had been lately, many yawns punctuating the lazy conversations.
Ron and Harry wasted no time in telling Hermione about the conversation they had overheard between Madame Maxime and Hagrid, but Hermione didn't seem to find the news that Hagrid was a half-giant nearly as shocking as Ron did.
"Duh," she said, shrugging. "Did you really think two humans could give a baby his side? It's as obvious as Remy being a furry little beast," Hermione said rolling her eyes and they snorted.
It was time now to think of the homework they had neglected during the first week of the holidays. Everybody seemed to be feeling rather flat now that Christmas was over— or as Hermione liked to describe it, blah. She had so much homework piled on that was almost everything she did now. That and spending time with friends and her mom.
Her mom. Hermione never thought the day would come when she would be able to say that. And Annora Hale was a wicked mom. She was an outgoing person, just like Hermione but apparently only with the people she was friends with; otherwise, she would seem unapproachable and quiet, whatever that meant). Hermione just wished she had grown up with her. That she had been raised by her and whoever her dad was. Because if her mother would have a kid with him that meant he must be wickedly cool too.
She had also been introduced to Evan Rosier and Marlene McKinnon, two people who were really important to her parents (yes, parents) and that, unfortunately, died during the first war; and now that she knew of them and had a connection (because technically she already knew them) she could indeed see them.
Evan was a blond bloke with pretty blue eyes with so much sass in him you'd think he would die — maybe that's an exaggeration. . . . Well, he did die; but for a totally different reason. He and Reg were apparently somewhat of cousins and bickered to no end. Her mum butting in every other second. It was amusing to watch, really. Marlene or Marls had dirty blond hair and honey-brown eyes. She was wickedly sweet but the sarcasm with her beat the kindness out. She had been spending more and more time with dead people, and the idea of her becoming insane hadn't even crossed her mind (that tells us something about her, huh?)
Anyway, snow was still thick upon the grounds — which was unfortunate cause Hermione didn't see a lightning storm coming anytime soon and she desperately wanted one; for obvious reasons —, and the greenhouse windows were covered in condensation so thick that they couldn't see out of them in Herbology. Nobody was looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures much in this weather, though as Ron said, the skrewts would probably warm them up nicely, either by chasing them, or blasting off so forcefully that Hagrid's cabin would catch fire.
When they arrived at Hagrid's cabin, however, they found an elderly witch with closely cropped gray hair and a very prominent chin standing before his front door. Professor Grubbly-Plank.
That class, Hermione noted, was a Soap Opera from start to end. She would be amused if it weren't for the sensitive subject (ahem). Hagrid had missed the class and was taking a break due to the foul and condescending article written by the foul loathsome bitch Rita Skeeter. Named DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE; which pretty much summarizes it. That plus the conspiracy theory regarding Moldy shorts. Hermione was left seething in rage and paranoia, looking for a beetle everywhere, a jar in her bag.
So that evening after dinner, the three of them left the castle once more and went down through the frozen grounds to Hagrid's cabin. They knocked, and Fang's booming barks answered.
"Hagrid, it's us!" Harry shouted, pounding on the door. "Open up!"
Hagrid didn't answer. They could hear Fang scratching at the door, whining, but it didn't open. They hammered on it for ten more minutes; Ron even went and banged on one of the windows, but there was no response.
"What's he avoiding us for?" Ron said when they had finally given up and were walking back to the school. "He doesn't think we'd care about him being half-giant does he?"
But it seemed that Hagrid did care. They didn't see a sign of him all week. He didn't appear at the staff table at mealtimes, they didn't see him going about his gamekeeper duties on the grounds, and Professor Grubbly-Plank continued to take the Care of Magical Creatures classes. Malfoy was gloating at every possible opportunity.
There was a Hogsmeade visit halfway through January. The three of them decided to go. After a shower and getting ready Hermione met up with her friends in the common room.
Sending a fleeting smile towards the twins (specifically Fred) and Ginn; she, Ron, and Harry left the castle together on Saturday and set off through the cold, wet grounds toward the gates. As they passed the Durmstrang ship moored in the lake, they saw Viktor Krum emerge onto the deck, dressed in nothing but swimming trunks. He was very skinny indeed, but apparently a lot tougher than he looked, because he climbed up onto the side of the ship, stretched out his arms, and dived, right into the lake.
"He's mad!" said Harry, staring at Krum's dark head as it bobbed out into the middle of the lake. "It must be freezing, it's January!"
"I'd do it if I wasn't throwing myself to my impending death, " Hermione shrugged and they snorted.
Hermione noticed how Harry kept his eyes skinned for a sign of Hagrid all the way down the slushy High Street and suggested a visit to the Three Broomsticks once he had ascertained that Hagrid was not in any of the shops. Hermione knew this would happen but that everything would be alright, so why would she stress her head over it?
The pub was as crowded as ever, but one quick look around at all the tables told them that Hagrid wasn't there. Heart sinking (well, Harry's most likely), they went up to the bar and ordered three butterbeers from Madam Rosmerta.
They had been chit-chatting for a while, mainly Harry and Hermione discussing which Back to the Future movie was better and Ron being lost in translation; when Ludo Bagman approaches them, or better yet, approached Harry.
"Harry!" he said. "How are you? Been hoping to run into you! Everything going all right?"
"Fine, thanks," said Harry.
"Wonder if I could have a quick, private word, Harry?" said Bagman eagerly. "You couldn't give us a moment, you two, could you?"
"Er — okay," said Ron, and he and Hermione went off to find a table. Hermione had to be dragged by Ron as she glared at Bagman all the way.
"What do you reckon they're talking about?" Ron asked her as they observed a really awkward Harry and well, a Ludo Bagman.
"The Tournament, " Hermione shrugged. Hermione then proceeded to talk Ron's ear off about some weird dream she had the other day. The dream included a bunker, a crossbow, keys, stalkers and cute jackasses, gala dresses, and shoes. How Hermione was able to connect all of those subconsciously in a dream, Ron would never know, but he still listened to her and by the end of it tears of mirth were coming out of his eyes, "Then while everyone was drinking their asses off, I grabbed a crossbow and shot an arrow at a star and Boom! I found myself in one. And let me tell you that shit's bright as fuck. Then a big high heel fell from space and then I woke up."
"Hermione, I want you to know that you are the weirdest and most random person I ever knew. And that comes from someone with Fred and George in the family, " said Ron looking at her baffled after her very detailed dream that made him burst out in laughter.
"I'll take that as a compliment Roland,"
"Somehow it is, " Ron shrugged and then turned to look at the table where Harry was seated. They both noticed the twins approach them and while Ron frowned Hermione narrowed her eyes at Bagman. "What are they doing there?" said Ron and Hermione could do nothing but shrug.
They watched as Bagman quickly became uncomfortable and hurried out of the pub. The goblins all slid off their chairs and exited after him. Harry went to rejoin Ron and Hermione.
"What did he want?" Ron said the moment Harry had sat down.
"He offered to help me with the golden egg," said Harry.
"Oh okay. Mate, you need to listen to Hermione's dreams. It's off the rockers." Ron grinned at Harry and Hermione beamed.
"So I was walking down the street," started Hermione, "Somewhy I was wearing a gorgeous gala dress. Then this group of guys came and walked past me and started pointing at me like I was some Goddess they should worship. Naturally, I told them to sod off and go shove their pointing fingers up their arses —"
"— naturally" Harry and Ron nodded seriously though they were trying not to burst out laughing at the girl's casualty.
"— Yeah. Well. Then I started making my way home. But the little fuckers decided to follow me. So I took another route and started making my way to my grandma's place — who I'm pretty sure is dead — somehow the cobblestone street shifted into a desert with a bunker —"
"— Of course"
"—so I entered the bunker and found myself in a street cafe type of thing. Those where the old people hang out in—kind of like Hogs Head. Anyway, I found my grandmother there and asked her for the keys to her flat and her crossbow. She gave me both so I continued walking and then I was in the flat. Moments later someone starts banging at the door and I open it to find the worshippers. By now I just want to bang my balls against my head—that's an expression now, don't question it—"
"—We weren't going to," they both said biting their lips.
"So like any sane person, I shot one with the crossbow and shove another down the widow; down the nineteen stores building. The fuckers ran away immediately—"
"— not Gryffindors then," Harry concludes as Ron nods.
"—but a specific one stays. He's luckily the cutest and actually appreciated my psychotic side. So he gives me his phone number—"
"Uh-oh," said Ron, staring at the door causing Hermione to shut up and glare at the cow (or beetle) that just walked in. She was wearing banana-yellow robes today; her long nails were painted shocking pink, and she was accompanied by her paunchy photographer.
She bought drinks, and she and the photographer made their way through the crowds to a table nearby, Harry, Ron, and Hermione glared at her as she approached. She was talking fast and looking very satisfied about something.
". . . didn't seem very keen to talk to us, did he, Bozo? Now, why would that be, do you think? And what's he doing with a pack of goblins in tow anyway? Showing them the sights . . . what nonsense . . . he was always a bad liar. Reckon something's up? Think we should do a bit of digging? 'Disgraced Ex-Head of Magical Games and Sports, Ludo Bagman . . .' Snappy start to a sentence, Bozo — we just need to find a story to fit it —"
"Trying to ruin someone else's life?" said Harry loudly.
A few people looked around. Rita Skeeter's eyes widened behind her jeweled spectacles as she saw who had spoken.
"Harry!" she said, beaming. "How lovely! Why don't you come and join — ?"
"I wouldn't come near you with a ten-foot broomstick," said Harry furiously. "What did you do that to Hagrid for, eh?"
Rita Skeeter raised her heavily penciled eyebrows.
"Our readers have a right to the truth, Harry. I am merely doing my —"
"Who cares if he's half-giant?" Harry shouted. "There's nothing wrong with him!"
The whole pub had gone very quiet. Madam Rosmerta was staring over from behind the bar, apparently oblivious to the fact that the flagon she was filling with mead was overflowing.
Rita Skeeter's smile flickered very slightly, but she hitched it back almost at once; she snapped open her crocodile-skin handbag, pulled out her Quick-Quotes Quill, and said, "How about giving me an interview about the Hagrid you know, Harry? The man behind the muscles? Your unlikely friendship and the reasons behind it. Would you call him a father substitute?"
Hermione stood up very abruptly, her hands clenched inside her leather jacket pockets. But her face didn't show any emotion, "You really are a horrid cow-faced bitch, aren't you?" She said coolly.
"Sit down, you silly little girl, and don't talk about things you don't understand," said Rita Skeeter coldly, her eyes hardening as they fell on Hermione.
"Let's go," said Hermione, "c'mon, Harry — Ron . . ."
They left; many people were staring at them as they went. Harry glanced back as they reached the door. Rita Skeeter's Quick-Quotes Quill was out; it was zooming backward and forward over a piece of parchment on the table.
"She'll be after you next, Hermione," said Ron in a low and worried voice as they walked quickly back up the street.
"Fine by me," Hermione shrugged, "She can say I'm whatever she wants. Except insult my hair. If she does that I will so shove those awful glasses down her throat..."
"You don't want to go upsetting Rita Skeeter," said Ron nervously. "I'm serious, Hermione, she'll dig up something on you —"
"Dig up what? That I'm a muggleborn? That I made out with this random person? That I'm slightly nutter? Honestly, I'm an open book and the secrets I do have are quite impossible to be found," said Hermione.
"You made out with who now?" Harry asked.
"Oh that. Alicia Spinnet at the beginning of the year. We were drunk at Angie's party, " Hermione shrugged as the two gaped at her. They proceeded to go down to Hagrid's meeting up with Dumbledore halfway and ended up in a sob conversation after convincing Hagrid to come back. Hermione thinks so at least. She wasn't paying that much attention.
"You didn't hand it over to Moody?" Hermione asked at the turn of events she came to know on Friday after Harry's midnight escapade.
"Course not. Haven't trusted him since that class with the Imperius curse, " said Harry, and he and Ron glanced at Hermione whose head started to hurt slightly (psychological pain, though), "I didn't tell him about what I saw either," He, Ron, and Hermione were sitting at the very back of the Charms class with a table to themselves. They were supposed to be practicing the opposite of the Summoning Charm today — the Banishing Charm. Owing to the potential for nasty accidents when objects kept flying across the room, Professor Flitwick had given each student a stack of cushions on which to practice, the theory being that these wouldn't hurt anyone if they went off target. It was a good theory, but it wasn't working very well. Neville's aim was so poor that he kept accidentally sending much heavier things flying across the room — Professor Flitwick, for instance.
"Thank Merlin for that. The map is most likely your most valued possession, Harold. As Prongslet and the one true descendent of a Marauder you should respect the map and keep it safe at all times!" said Hermione as Ron nodded along and Harry couldn't help the amused smile on his face. Hermione also noticed James Potter beaming proudly at her from the corner of her eye, nodding frantically in agreement.
"Snape said Moody's searched his office as well?" Ron whispered, his eyes alight with interest as he Banished a cushion with a sweep of his wand (it soared into the air and knocked Parvati's hat off). "What . . . d'you reckon Moody's here to keep an eye on Snape as well as Karkaroff?"
"Well, I dunno if that's what Dumbledore asked him to do, but he's definitely doing it," said Harry, waving his wand without paying much attention, so that his cushion did an odd sort of belly flop off the desk. "Moody said Dumbledore only lets Snape stay here because he's giving him a second chance or something. . . ."
"What?" said Ron, his eyes widening, his next cushion spinning high into the air, ricocheting off the chandelier, and dropping heavily onto Flitwick's desk. "Harry . . . maybe Moody thinks Snape put your name in the Goblet of Fire!"
"Snivellous may be an insufferable little fucker but we all know he didn't. He's suspicious and that shit, but you also thought it was him with the pretty stone." Hermione said and they nodded reluctantly, "Besides I wouldn't trust Moody all that much,"
She Banished a cushion and as it flew across the room it whacked Dean across the face making him whack his pillow across Seamus and both boys to glare at Hermione who smiled sarcastically at them taking a picture.
Soon enough the Second Task was approaching. In the meanwhile, Harry had told her and Ron about Sirius's letter and how they would meet up with him during the next Hogsmeade trip.
By the evening before the second task, Harry felt as though he were trapped in a nightmare and Hermione couldn't help but feel like he was dragging her along with her. He was sulking and fidgeting and snapping quite a lot at her for keeping so calm. And why shouldn't she be? She knew the outcome of the task and with luck, she would get to catch a beetle.
The three of them sat in the library as the sunset outside, tearing feverishly through page after page of spells, hidden from one another by the massive piles of books on the desk in front of each of them — Hermione was just flipping through a magazine but that takes a lot of work too.
"I don't reckon it can be done," said Ron's voice flatly from the other side of the table. "There's nothing. Nothing. Closest was that thing to dry up puddles and ponds, that Drought Charm, but that was nowhere near powerful enough to drain the lake."
"There must be something," Hermione muttered, flipping to a page that featured an article on the show she had missed so much — F.R.I.E.N.D.S — that had been streaming since a few months back. "The task can't be undoable"
"But it is," said Ron. "Harry, just go down to the lake tomorrow, right, stick your head in, yell at the merpeople to give back whatever they've nicked, and see if they chuck it out. Best you can do, mate."
"I agree, " Hermione said with a grin thinking about that idea.
"I know what I should have done," said Harry, resting, face-down, on Saucy Tricks for Tricky Sorts. "I should've learned to be an Animagus much sooner."
"Yeah, you could turn into a goldfish any time you wanted!" said Ron.
"He would be a stag, you morons. And we have it all prepared we only need a lightning storm, " Hermione said flatly passing to the next page (an article on how to lose weight and still eat junk food).
"Who in their right mind wants to make their nose hair grow into ringlets?" Ron asks frowning at the book in his hand.
"I wouldn't mind," said Fred Weasley's voice. "Be a talking point, wouldn't it?"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked up. Fred and George had just emerged from behind some bookshelves. Fred smiled slightly ad Hermione smiled back.
"What're you two doing here?" Ron asked.
"Looking for you," said George. "McGonagall wants you, Ron."
"Why?" said Ron.
"Dunno . . . she was looking a bit grim, though," said Fred. "We're supposed to take you down to her office," said George.
"I'll meet you back in the common room," Ron told Harry and Hermione as he got up — somewhy looking very anxious.
"Right," said Harry uneasily.
"Imma head to bed, Harold. I'm not being of much use anyway, " said Hermione, "Trust me though, you'll do it. One way or the other." She smiled and Harry smiled back as she kissed him on the cheek and promptly left the library.
As soon as she got to her room, it was to find Annora Hale sitting on her bed. "Mom?"
"Why yes, it is me, darling Hermione!" Annora bemused dramatically and Hermione snorted. "You sure need to figure out your feelings for those boys Mia. That can go wrong."
"I know. But I'm not really worried about that now," said Hermione promptly.
"Fine, darling. I'll let you sleep." Annora said kissing her on the forehead, "Have some rest. Good Night Mia,"
"Night Mom,"
The entrance hall contained a few last-minute stragglers, all leaving the Great Hall after breakfast and heading through the double oak doors to watch the second task. Hermione herself was on her way there. She had hugged Harry this morning and wished him good luck and that she would be there to greet him when he got out of the water; this statement was actually able to get a smile out of him — which was difficult under the pressure he was in.
Hermione found the twins halfway through her walk and politely asked Fred for a ride on his back. He rolled his eyes with a smirk but conceded. When they arrived at the stands near the Black Lake she bid goodbye to the twins and went to sit next to Blaise and Theo — Daphne was seating with Hannah Abbott, so she was the only girl (not that she minded all that much; she was used to it by now).
Hermione saw that Bagman gave Harry's shoulder a quick squeeze and returned to the judges' table; he pointed his wand at his throat as he had done at the World Cup, said, "Sonorus!" and his voice boomed out across the dark water toward the stands.
"Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One . . . two . . . three!"
The whistle echoed shrilly in the cold, still air; the stands erupted with cheers and applause; try watched as the champions dove into the water and then... Nothing. They waited for an hour, dying of anticipation — Hermione was thanking all the Gods that she, fortunately, brought her Walkman; she put on AC-DC and handed one of the headphones to Theo; he took a while to figure out how it worked (much to Hermione's amusement) but eventually was able to put it on and jammed to the song.
At last, they saw Cedric coming out of the water with Cho Chang; Krum with his "prize" who was the girl he had taken to the Yule Ball; then came Fleur empty-handed; and lastly, Harry's head broke the surface of the water, panting and trying to breathe properly while pulling Ron and a little girl (Gabrielle) out of the water with him. Hermione immediately leaped out of her seat and made her way down to the place where the champions were. She could see Harry coming out of the water with Ron and Gabrielle; Madam Pomfrey fussing over French Yule Ball girl, Krum, Cedric, and Cho, all of whom were wrapped in thick blankets.
Dumbledore and Ludo Bagman stood beaming at Harry and Ron from the bank as they swam nearer, but Percy, who looked very white and somehow much younger than usual, came splashing out to meet them. Meanwhile, Madame Maxime was trying to restrain Fleur Delacour, who was quite hysterical, fighting tooth and nail to return to the water.
"Gabrielle! Gabrielle! Is she alive? Is she 'urt?"
"She's fine!" Harry tried to tell her, but he was so exhausted he could hardly talk, let alone shout.
"Don't worry Flower, your sister is fine, " Hermione said placing a hand on her cold shoulder. Fleur looked up and smiled at her only to frown again and begin to mutter in French.
Percy seized Ron and was dragging him back to the bank ("Gerroff, Percy, I'm all right!"); Dumbledore and Bagman were pulling Harry upright; Fleur had broken free of Madame Maxime and was hugging her sister.
"It was ze grindylows . . . zey attacked me . . . oh Gabrielle, I thought . . . I thought . . ."
"Come here, you," said Madam Pomfrey. She seized Harry and pulled him over to Hermione and the others, wrapped him so tightly in a blanket that he felt as though he were in a straitjacket, and forced a measure of very hot potion down his throat. Steam gushed out of his ears.
"That was wicked Prongslet! A true gentleman you are." Hermione said excitedly as she higher the crap out of him (getting soaked in the process).
"Well —" said Harry. He would have told her about Dobby, but he had just noticed Karkaroff watching him. He was the only judge who had not left the table; the only judge not showing signs of pleasure and relief that Harry, Ron, and Fleur's sister had gotten back safely. "Yeah, that's right," said Harry, raising his voice slightly so that Karkaroff could hear him.
"You haff a water beetle in your hair, girl," said Krum pointing at Hermione's hair. Hermione grimaced and grabbed the beetle and quickly (so she wasn't in contact with it for long) she placed it in a jar closing it tightly — which then would activate the unbreakable charms and locking charms on it; along with the muffliato charm that prevented Rita Skeeter from listening in on conversations and a charm that prevented her from seeing too. As she was doing this Hermione got a lot of weird looks from her friends to which she only shrugged and put the jar back in her bag.
Dumbledore was crouching at the water's edge, deep in conversation with what seemed to be the chief merperson, a particularly wild and ferocious-looking female. He was making the same sort of screechy noises that the merpeople made when they were above water; clearly, Dumbledore could speak Mermish. Finally, he straightened up, turned to his fellow judges, and said, "A conference before we give the marks, I think."
The judges went into a huddle. Madam Pomfrey had gone to rescue Ron from Percy's clutches; she led him over to Harry, Hermione, and the others, gave him a blanket and some Pepperup Potion, then went to fetch Fleur and her sister. Fleur had many cuts on her face and arms and her robes were torn, but she didn't seem to care, nor would she allow Madam Pomfrey to clean them.
"Look after Gabrielle," she told her, and then she turned to Harry. "You saved 'er," she said breathlessly. "Even though she was not your 'ostage."
"Yeah," said Harry, who was now heartily wishing he'd left all three girls tied to the statue.
Fleur bent down, kissed Harry twice on each cheek (he felt his face burn and wouldn't have been surprised if steam was coming out of his ears again), then said to Ron, "And you too — you 'elped —"
"Yeah," said Ron, looking extremely hopeful, "yeah, a bit —"
Fleur swooped down on him too and kissed him while Hermione laughed her ass off at their faces, which were now multiple shades of red. But just then, Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice boomed out beside them, making them all jump, and causing the crowd in the stands to go very quiet.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows. . . .
"Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points."
Applause from the stands.
"I deserved zero," said Fleur throatily, shaking her magnificent head.
"Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour." Enormous cheers from the Hufflepuffs in the crowd. "We, therefore, award him forty-seven points."
"Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points."
Karkaroff clapped particularly hard, looking very superior.
"Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect," Bagman continued. "He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was first to reach the hostages and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own."
"Most of the judges," and here, Bagman gave Karkaroff a very nasty look, "feel that this shows moral fiber and merits full marks. However . . . Mr. Potter's score is forty-five points."
Hermione laughed loudly and pulled Harry into a hug as the crowd started cheering again. "There you go, Harry!" Ron shouted over the noise. "You weren't being thick after all — you were showing moral fiber!"
Fleur was clapping very hard too, but Krum didn't look happy at all. He attempted to engage the girl he rescued in conversation again, but she was too busy looking at Harry to listen.
"The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June," continued Bagman. "The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions."
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