Der Abschied (The Farewell)

Der Abschied (The Farewell) - PART ONE

By Aaron Andronicus

Sunday, November 1 - The morning after

She ran naked through the dark forest, sweating like it was a hot July day rather than a chilly October night. She did not stop to think about the creatures around her, nor the dangers they presented. All she knew was that she had to continue, it was important...

Eventually she came to a portion of the forest where the trees grew thicker and thicker, blocking out everything, even the starlight, with their darkness. They surrounded her, oppressed her with a weight that she could not find words for, stifling her senses, her wits, and her creativity.

Upon penetrating deeply into this portion of the forest, she came at last to what she sought. There was another naked person in the forest, a man carrying a torch. And he too was running, but without the sweat or fear that she had experienced. She knew he was too strong for such human reactions, but his perfection never failed to impress her.

His body was the model specimen; it was perfectly streamlined and constructed, whether she looked at the head, torso, groin, or limbs. She ran towards him and threw herself on him, smothering his perfect cheeks with kisses so hot she was sure they would burn him, but he was unscathed. "Gilderoy!" she gasped.

He returned her display of affection, lifting her up and placing a deep kiss on her lips. His lips were perfect. His tounge, as it forced itself down her throat, penetrating deeper than she would ever have thought possible, was perfect. The moment was perfect. Then he...

Hermione woke up, sweating.

She laid back in her bed, gasping for breath. She had not had the nightmare for several months, and now it was back. But the nightmare had never gone that far. Before, Hermione would just see Lockhart in the forest and be overcome with longing for him.

Mummy, Hermione thought quickly. Before coming to Hogwarts, when she had bad dreams her mother was always there to provide comfort. But mummy wasn't with Hermione now.

Not wanting to dwell on that, Hermione turned to trying to sort out the meaning of her dream. It occurred to her that her life was hardly normal at this point. Just last night, her best friend Harry's name came out of the Goblet of Fire. How had it gotten there? Had he really somehow managed to get past Dumbledore's age line?

Then, another reason came to mind: her other best friend, Ron. Earlier that week, he had teased her about Lockhart for the first time in almost a year. He had reminded Hermione of her weakness, her absolutely stupid crush on that stupid professor. He isn't really to blame, though, she thought; he didn't know.

It was his comment that put him back into my mind, and what happened last night with Harry was what made the nightmare return, she continued, trying to supress her anxiety. I am not in love with Gilderoy Lockhart!

Hermione rolled over onto her side, looking at the curtains. She wasn't exactly sure what time it was. She thought about opening the curtains. On the one hand, morning was fast approaching, and she would need to get up sooner or later, if for no other reason than to eat, and go to the library. Yes, she thought, that'll take my mind off of the stupid little - no, got to watch my language.

However, Hermione wasn't sure she wanted to confront the outside world yet. Her parents were so far away, so they couldn't help her; the other Gryffindors would want to ask her about Harry and the Tournament, Harry would definitely want to talk to her about the Tournament, one way or the other, and Ron... she didn't know what he would say. He had looked utterly devastated when Harry's name came out of the Goblet of Fire. She had seen the emotions pass across his face quite clearly: shock, fear, denial, and then jealousy.

Hermione turned over onto her other side, facing away from the curtains. However, she was suddenly roused from her reverie by the loud sound of fabric rustling, and a sudden bright light; someone had opened the curtains for her.

Hermione rolled back towards the curtain, blinking a couple times, and saw Lavender standing beside her bed.

"Wake up, 'Mione!"

"Lavender, you know I don't like being called that," Hermione yawned.

"You're a grouch, that's what you are!" said Lavender impatiently, raising her hands in frustration. "Get a move on it," she continued, shaking Hermione "Time for breakfast!"

"Alright, stop shaking me!" Hermione said quickly, sitting up. Surveying the room, she saw that Lavender had apparently already woken up Jennifer and Lucy, the other two Gryffindor girls; they were not in their beds. Instead, she could see various articles of their clothing strewn across the floor haphazardly, as if they had not put much thought into putting away their dressing gowns. Parvati was still asleep.

"That's a good girl, Hermione," Lavender purred. She then moved over to Parvati's bed to wake her up. Lavender was always like this in the morning; she got up earlier than the birds and seemed to think everyone else should do the same. Normally, this did not bother Hermione, as she often used the time to study more, but for once she wasn't really in a mood to study.

Hermione rose out of bed and left the room for the showers. Upon starting her shower, she hoped that the cold water pouring over her body would wash her clean of the night's dirtiness. Stepping out, she did almost feel better about it.

After getting properly dressed and dried, she quickly grabbed some books and took them with her down to the common room, where she studied for about an hour. This was not unusual, except for the energy that she now put into it, trying to erase all vestiges of last night's dream from her mind. Her studying was eventually interrupted by the arrival of Ron, who came down the staircase and approached her.

"Hello, Hermione," he said hesitantly, sounding as if he wasn't sure he should be interrupting her.

Hermione put down her book and looked up at Ron, smiling. "Good morning. Did you get enough sleep?"

"Mostly," he replied vaguely. "C'mon, lets go to breakfast, shall we? I've never figured out what makes you to get up this early in the morning, just for studying! Blimey!" As he said this he surveyed her books with the usual surprised expression on his face.

"Shouldn't we wait for Harry?" Hermione said, closing her book and getting up. "Say..."

"He needs his sleep, I should think," Ron said, bitterness filling his voice.

"Alright, lets go," Hermione said quickly. They walked through the portrait hole together out into the corridor. Unable to restrain her curiosity any longer, Hermione asked, "So, how is Harry? Did he tell you anything about last night?"

No answer.

"Ron, what did - "

"Nothing but shite, alright?" Ron said vehemently.

"Ron!"

"Hermione, it's not as if you haven't heard me swear before!"

"Yeah, Ron, but it's not as if I haven't objected every time! Anyway, you've only swore when it was about Snape and Malfoy, never about Harry!"

"Lets just not talk about Harry now, alright?" Their voices had risen to shouts now, and the few people who were in the corridors outside the great hall were now looking at them quite queerly. Ron was the first to speak. "Sorry, Hermione," he said more quietly. "I shouldn't have let myself yell at you like that."

"It's alright, Ron," Hermione said, just as quietly. "We'll talk about something else."

However, they did not speak to each other again until after they arrived at the Gryffindor table and begun eating.

"This food is excellent," Hermione said, trying to start a conversation.

"And I'm sure the house elves worked really hard on it," Ron said with an amused grin on his face.

Hermione shook her head. This was not what she had in mind. "Ron, would you please stop bringing that up every time we eat? This is - "

"I don't do it every time, Hermione. You're the one who brings up 'spew' all the time..."

"S. P. E. W." Hermione said, chewing her toast carefully. "Honestly!"

"Alright, lets give it a rest," Ron said. "Did you get enough sleep last night? Pleasant dreams, I hope?"

"Not really," Hermione said, "but I'd rather not talk about that at the moment."

"Alright then, I won't make you," Ron replied, sounding uneasy. "I didn't sleep well last night either."

As thick as he can be, Hermione thought, sometimes he really can be quite sensitive.

"Thank you for not asking about it," she said out loud. "I'm sorry you didn't sleep well either."

"Thanks," Ron said.

They did not speak much more until they were about finished with their meals.

"Hermione, wanna go and walk outside?" Ron asked. "The sun is out, and it's not that cold..."

"I have some more studying to do, Ron," Hermione said hesitantly. "Besides, one of us ought to talk to Harry, and - "

"I'l go for a walk now, by myself," Ron said quickly, getting up. "You can go talk to Harry, then." He stalked quickly away from the table and out through the main doors.

Something's not right here, Hermione thought to herself as she continued eating, even Ron isn't usually this irritable. What could be troubling him?

Is it Harry? Lets see... Ron can get bitter about his family's lack of gold... he's always lived in the shadow of his older brothers... Maybe he wanted to enter the tournament himself, and maybe he believes that Harry must have put his own name in and he feels that Harry betrayed him by doing that without telling his best friend how to do it also! That makes sense, in a way. He can be jealous.

But did Harry do that? I don't know how else his name could have gotten in there, but he couldn't have crossed the age line, not if Fred and George couldn't do it. And why would he do it without Ron?

She pushed aside these thoughts for a moment and finished her breakfast. As she was getting up to leave, she heard overlapping fragments of conversations from several tables.

" - How did he do it - "

" - Selfish Harry Potter, trying to get all the glory - "

" - Potter's gone to far this time - "

" - Finally, we're getting a chance to show up that pretty-boy, Diggory - "

" - Harry's really quite attractive, isn't he - "

" - It's the best thing that's ever happened - "

Hermione couldn't believe how many people were talking about Harry, but she pushed her disbelief aside, realizing that Harry, shy as he could sometimes be, would not want to be the center of attention if he could avoid it. He certainly would not want to come down to the Great Hall with everyone gawping at him.

What should I do about it? she wondered. We could use the invisibility cloak... but that might be more trouble than it's worth... I know! I'll take Ron's idea, we'll walk outside, and I'll bring him some toast so he doesn't have to go hungry! Ron did say it was a nice day, after all.

Deciding that stealth was the best option, Hermione quietly turned around as if she had forgotten something. Once there, she surreptitiously grabbed several pieces of toast and hid them in a napkin. Then she left the hall.

Upon arriving at the portrait of the Fat Lady, she paused for a moment, thinking. Is he even awake yet? It's still a little early, for a Saturday. Should I even...

Her thoughts were interrupted by the portrait of the Fat Lady swinging open. Looking up, Hermione saw Harry on the other side of the portrait hole.

He looked... there was no other way to put this, he looked horrible. His hair was even messier than usual, and his face bore no trace of his usual innocent smile. Looking beyond him into the common room, she could see Colin Creevey and his younger brother waving their arms in the air desperately trying to attract Harry's attention. The younger Creevey was jumping up and down, but Harry didn't notice.

He was looking at Hermione.

"Hello," Hermione said quickly, holding up the toast so that Harry could see it. "I brought you this... Want to go for a walk?"

Harry smiled for what Hermione guessed was the first time that day. "Good idea," he said, stepping out of the portrait hole and accepting a piece of toast from Hermione. They started together down the stairs. "Er... how are you this morning? Is everything alright?"

"Things are getting better," Hermione said quickly. "What about you?"

"Er... I'd say things are getting better for me too," Harry replied evasively.

They kept walking down the stairs until they reached the entrance hall, occasionally exchanging glances and munching on their toast, but not speaking again until after they had exited the castle. As they walked into the outside air, Hermione noticed that although it wasn't very cold, it was still a lot chillier than Ron had given her to believe. Although the sun was still visible, clouds filled the rest of the sky, and the swallows and the other birds that usually sat in the trees merrily singing to each other had migrated, replaced by the occasional overhead honking of geese. Now and again, some of the geese would land on the lake and swim together in pairs. As they approached the lake, Hermione decided to ask the question that had been bothering her since last night.

"What happened last night, Harry?" she said. "Did you..."

"No! I didn't put my name in the Goblet of Fire, Hermione," he said, his voice suddenly agitated. "Someone else must have done it. You don't think..."

"I believe you, Harry," Hermione said quickly.

Harry let out a huge sigh of relief, and for a brief moment, she could see the smile on his face again. It passed quickly, but he said, "Thanks, Hermione. I..." He trailed off.

"It's alright, Harry," Hermione said, placing her hand on his shoulder supportively. "You can tell me everything."

Harry paused for a moment, and then he walked over to a solid-looking rock and sat down. Hermione joined him, sitting on the ground beside him.

"It was awful, Hermione," he said quietly.

"It's alright, Harry," she said. "You can tell me about it."

"I was shocked," Harry said. "I couldn't..." He trailed off.

"Go on," Hermione said gently.

"Well, after I got over the shock, I walked over to where the other champions had gone, but it seemed to take forever," Harry continued. "Everyone was looking at me. I couldn't believe it." He shook his head. "After that, Bagman, Crouch, Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape entered... there was a huge argument about me. I think Dumbledore and McGonagall were the only ones who believed I hadn't entered myself. Then there was Moody. He came in shortly after everyone else. He believed me too, knew I couldn't have done it myself, said the Goblet was too powerful or something... He seemed to think..." Harry trailed off again.

Hermione put her hand on his shoulder again. Harry stood up, brushing off her hand. "He thought that whoever had put my name in the Goblet was trying to kill me, Hermione!"

Hermione stood up. "It's alright Harry, I'm still here," she said.

Harry turned around and then he grabbed her around the chest, hugging her tightly. Hermione had never been grasped quite so tightly, but she knew that Harry desperately needed her support, and she hugged him back. However, as they hugged each other, Hermione's nightmare came back to her, and she couldn't help thinking how tightly Lockhart had embraced her, and how much she had liked it. As much as these thoughts disgusted her, she could not get rid of them.

When Harry finally let go, he said, "Thanks." Hermione merely nodded, not wanting to say anything. They resumed their walk around the lake, and Harry continued to nibble on his remaining toast. "Ron didn't believe me," he finally said, quietly

"What happened, Harry?" Hermione asked. She was curious to know what had made Ron so upset that morning.

"He was waiting for me on his bed. He didn't believe me when I said I hadn't entered my name myself. He seemed to think it was an insult or something..." Harry trailed off, looking upset. After a few moments' silence, he said, "How was your night?"

"Alright," she said uneasily. They continued walking.

"He didn't believe me," Harry continued, after a few seconds. "I was sure he would, but he didn't. And he got angry with me. He refused to talk to me after I kept insisting that I hadn't entered myself - "

"Well, of course I knew you hadn't entered yourself," Hermione said, trying to change the subject. "The look on your face when Dumbledore read your name! But the question is, who did put it in? Because Moody's right, Harry... I don't think any student could have done it... they'd never be able to fool the Goblet, or get over Dumbledore's - "

"Have you seen Ron?" Harry interrupted quickly.

Hermione paused for a couple seconds. She didn't like the look on Harry's face; the tiniest glimmer of a mad gleam had entered his eyes, making him look as if he was losing his reason. Not know what else to say, Hermione replied, "Erm... yes... he was at breakfast."

"Does he still think I entered myself?" Harry demanded.

"Well," Hermione replied nervously, "no, I don't think so... not really."

The mad gleam got much brighter. "What's that supposed to mean, 'not really'?" he shouted.

Frightened, Hermione looked around to see if anyone else was listening to them. Fortunately, nobody else was there, except for a pair of owls in a nearby tree. Not sure what else to do, she finally said, "Oh, Harry, isn't it obvious? He's jealous!"

"Jealous!" Harry cried. "Jealous of what? He wants to make a prat of himself in front of the whole school, does he?"

Hermione decided to take control of the conversation. "Look, it's always you who gets all the attention, you know it." Harry looked like he was about to interrupt, but Hermione continued, "I know it's not your fault. I know you don't ask for it... but - well, you know Ron's got all those brothers to compete against at home, and you're his best friend, and you're really famous - he's always shunted to one side whenever people see you, and he puts up with it, and he never mentions it, but I suppose this is just one time too many..." Hermione trailed off.

"Great," Harry said, bitterness replacing the anger that had infected his voice earlier. The mad gleam had vanished, but he didn't look any happier. He tore off a piece of his toast but didn't eat it. "Really great. Tell him from me I'll swap anytime he wants. Tell him from me he's welcome to it... people gawping at my forehead wherever I go - "

"I'm not telling him anything," Hermione interrupted impatiently. "Tell him yourself. It's the only way to sort this out."

"I'm not running around after him trying to make him grow up!" he shouted angrily. The two owls in the tree took flight, frightened by Harry's rage. He then swung back his arm and violently pitched the piece of toast into the lake.

Both Harry and Hermione watched the splash it made.

Harry sighed bitterly. "Maybe he'll believe I'm not enjoying myself once I've gotten my neck broken - "

"That's not funny," Hermione said, horrified by his sudden, morbid change of tone. "That's not funny at all." After that, she changed the subject, insisting he send a letter to Sirius immediately. After some persuasion, he agreed to go to the Owlery with her and send the letter. Upon arriving there, Hermione gave him some privacy while he was writing, looking at the other owls, many of whom were sleeping, most of them untroubled. Hermione wished that she could be as untroubled as they were.

wednesday, november 4 - The first time

Hermione ran down the corridor crying. She couldn't remember a time when she had been this humiliated since her first year, when she had overheard Ron making fun of her. But this time Ron stood up for her.

And then there was last spring, her encounter with the boggart. But she didn't like to dwell on that.

Meanwhile, her teeth had grown quite large. She could feel them fast approaching her chest, about to dig into her skin. Summoning up as much strength as she could, she stopped, took out her wand, and pointed it at her teeth, mumbling "Finite Incantatem!" as best she could in her present state.

Her teeth stopped growing, less than an inch above her breasts.

My parents would be horrified to see what's happened to me now, Hermione thought to herself as she continued quickly to the Hospital Wing, gasping for breath. Upon arriving, Hermione tried to shout, "Madam Pomfrey! Madam Pomfrey!"

However muffled her shouts had been, they still did the desired job; Madam Pomfrey quickly came out of her office, saying, "What's this racket now?" Then she saw Hermione and her teeth. "Who did this to you?"

"It was Draco Malfoy! Please help me!" Hermione tried to say, but her enlarged teeth were still muffling her voice.

"I'm sorry, I can't understand a word you're saying," Madam Pomfrey said. She went over to a nearby desk and got a quill and parchment ready for Hermione. "Try this. Now, can you remember what the curse was?"

Hermione wrote down: Densaugeo. I stopped the growth myself, but I don't know how to restore my teeth to their original state.

"Oh, that's a nasty one, but I can get it fixed quickly. Children! Sit still and try to relax, this may take a few minutes," Madam Pomfrey replied, taking out her wand in one hand and a mirror in the other. "You just raise your hand when I've got your teeth back the way they were."

Hermione nodded her head slowly, trying not to poke her teeth into herself.

"Alright then," Madam Pomfrey said, raising her wand. She put it to Hermione's teeth and muttered an incantation under her breath that Hermione couldn't hear. However, Hermione could see her teeth shrinking very slowly in the mirror, and watched carefully.

As she was watching, a thought occurred to her. What if I let her work on my teeth until they were normal, better than before?

Hmm... mum and dad would be a little upset... but...

Knowing that it would probably be counterproductive, Hermione suppressed the grin that she was about to break out into. She watched carefully in the mirror as her teeth shrunk further, eventually retreating back into her mouth... then they were the way they had been before... Just a couple more seconds, Hermione thought.

Once her teeth were exactly the way she wanted them, Hermione raised her hand. Madam Pomfrey withdrew the wand. "Thank you," Hermione said.

"You're most welcome, Miss. Granger," Madam Pomfrey replied. "Alright... you aren't bleeding as near as I can tell... please wait here until I come back," She left, walking into her office.

Hermione wiped the last of the tears from her eyes, then laid her arms on her lap and stared vacantly at the bed next to where she was sitting. Life was not going well for her. First the nightmares had come back, then Ron and Harry stopped speaking to each other, and now Malfoy had just mocked her again, and worst of all Snape, the teacher, had done nothing but encourage him. He had let her down. She knew Snape always favored Slytherins above anyone else, but that didn't stop her from feeling upset at this latest outrage. Teachers shouldn't take sides, she thought to herself, squeezing her hands, they shouldn't -

Madam Pomfrey re-entered from her office, saying, "Alright Hermione... let me have a look at those teeth again." Hermione dutifully opened her mouth and let Madam Pomfrey have a look. "Alright... looks like they're just perfect. And as there's no bleeding... I don't see any reason to hold you any longer. You can go now."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said, getting up. As she left, she decided that rather than go back to class and confront Snape and Malfoy again, she'd go up to the library, which was on the second floor. As she walked down the corridor, she thought to herself suddenly, Why did I let Madame Pomfrey make my teeth perfect? I'm not ashamed of my teeth... am I? I've never been this rebellious before... She tried to ignore the growing discomfort she was feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Hermione reached the staircase less than a minute after leaving the hospital wing. As she ascended, the discomfort kept growing in magnitude, becoming a pain in her lower abdomen. Hermione slowed down, clutching her abdomen, her steps becoming irregular. She stopped halfway up the flight of stairs and doubled over, grabbing the wooden rail tightly with her other hand and gasping for breath. After about a minute, the pain subsided and she resumed climbing the stairs, trying to ignore what had just happened. Then...

CRAMP!

Hermione doubled over, much more violently than before. She quickly grasped the rail once more and ascended the final step on the flight, only to see another staircase right in front of her. Desperately, she grabbed the railing and started climbing again. By now the pain from the cramp was intense, but Hermione knew that she had to reach the second floor and get to the nearest bathroom, quickly.

CRAMP!

Hermione ignored the new pain as best she could. Keeping one hand on the railing at all times, she quickly ran up the remaining stairs to the second floor. She could feel the sweat starting to accumulate on her forehead, then her nose, and then the rest of her face as she panted for breath. As soon as she got to the top, she let go of the railing and broke into a mad dash towards the second floor girls bathroom. Ignoring the worn down OUT OF ORDER sign, she pushed open the door...

CRAMP!

... ran to the first stall, only to see that there was no toilet paper...

CRAMP!

... on to the second stall... no toilet paper...

CRAMP!

... the third stall... yes! it had toilet paper... Hermione slammed the door behind her and latched it shut, then sat on the stall, hastily grabbing a wad of toilet paper. She quickly pulled down her trousers and stuck the wad of toilet paper into her vagina. Sure enough, when the pulled it away, the toilet paper was red with blood.

She was menstruating.

Hermione stuffed the bloody toilet paper down the toilet and grabbed another wad, repeating the same procedure as before. Gradually, after she had gotten all the blood and uteral tissue she could out of her system, the pain subsided. She brought her self to her feet slowly, pulling up her trousers, then opened the door and walked stiffly to the sink. She turned on the first tap she came to, but it didn't work. Looking at the tap, she saw a snake carved on it.

Hermione laughed bitterly. "It would have to be that sink, wouldn' it?" she mumbled to herself. She turned away from the first sink, moving on to the next sink and turning it on. Sticking her hands in the lukewarm water, she was surprised at how easily the blood washed off. It wasn't like the stories and plays she had read before she came to Hogwarts, where the blood never seemed to come off. It was easy.

"First time?"

Hermione jumped at the sudden voice from behind her, spinning around quickly and sighing in half relief when she saw it was Moaning Myrtle, floating not less than five feet away from her. "Myrtle," Hermione gasped, "you nearly scared me half to... erm... you frightened me."

"That's what we do, isn't it?" Myrtle said slowly. "Frighten people? Anyway, you didn't answered my question. Was that your first time?"

"How's that your business?" Hermione said sharply.

"I've seen lots of girls come in here their first times," Myrtle continued, smiling wistfully, "even before I died. They all reacted differently, some were happy, some sad, some guilty, some - "

"Alright, I get the idea," Hermione interrupted. "Would you just leave me alone?"

"Why should I?" Myrtle shouted, drawing closer to Hermione. "You and your friends never used to leave me alone! You used to come in here, brew your nasty potions, throw books at me... then you and your friends just left and abandoned me. You didn't want anything to do with poor old Myrtle, you just wanted her to wallow, didn't you? Well now, maybe I won't leave you alone!"

"Myrtle," Hermione said, getting an idea, "did you ever have a 'first time'?"

Myrtle stared at Hermione a moment, then heaved a quick sob. "You don't know - "

"You didn't, did you?" Hermione said spitefully.

Myrtle quickly floated away, crying. Hermione left the bathroom, feeling vaguely satisfied and yet guilty at the same time. Why am I acting like this? She thought as she walked to the library. First I have my teeth fixed, then I insult Myrtle deliberately. This isn't me!

She didn't want to think about it.

Hermione entered the library started wandering through the bookshelves, occasionally grabbing books that interested her. She had always been impressed by the size of the library; even though she had been at Hogwarts for over three years she could still find new books to read. As soon as she decided she had grabbed enough books, she took them to a table and started reading. She quickly lost track of time, absorbed in all the powerful details contained in the books she was reading. She didn't have to think about her dreams, or the trials and tribulations of the past week.

An indeterminate time later, Hermione's concentration was interrupted by the sound of the library door opening and closing loudly. Hermione laid down the book gently and looked over her shoulder to see who had made the racket.

Looking over, she saw that Viktor Krum was now in the library and was talking to Madam Pince.

* * *

Viktor was glad to leave the photo shoot early.

The photographers had been taking pictures of the champions for over half an hour, and he had never liked being photographed. It made him feel powerless, having his image depend on the whims and artistry (or lack thereof) of the photographers. He didn't want to be seen as weak or arrogant. He wanted to be seen mostly as he really was.

The one good thing about being photographed this often was that he got to learn a lot about photography. He had recently become fascinated by photography. He had always loved taking photographs of others, and now he knew that one day, maybe after he had finished his Quidditch career, he would like to be a photographer. He knew, without arrogance, that he could become better than some of the photographers that had photographed him in the past, and that he could learn from the others who were good.

On this occasion, though, the photographers had been more interested in Harry Potter, and so Viktor was allowed to leave early. He wasn't too surprised; after all, the circumstances under which Potter had entered the tournaments were certainly unusual. Viktor decided to use the extra time he had to visit the Hogwarts library. He was interested to see what books they might have on photography, even if those books were in English.

He entered the library and walked to the front desk, where he saw a taller, much older lady looking down at him quietly. "Erm... Madam... Hallo, my name ist Viktor Krum," he said, extending his hand.

The librarian extended her hand slowly and shook Viktor's hand, letting go quickly. "Madam Pince. What may I do for you?"

"I vould like to know if you haff any buchs on votography," Viktor answered quietly.

"Yes, we have some. Would you like me to get you a list of such books, Mr. Krum?" Madam Pince asked.

"Yes, please," Viktor said.

"I'll be back right away with that list, then," replied the librarian.

"Vank you," Viktor cried after her as she left. While she was getting the list, he turned around and surveyed the library. He saw that the only other occupant of the library was a young, lonely looking girl who was looking at him curiously. She's actually fairly pretty, for her age, he thought to himself. Wish I could get a picture of her.

Madam Pince returned with a roll of parchment. "We have a lot of books on photography, Mr. Krum. This is a list of some of them, a good starting point for anyone wishing to study English wizarding photography styles and the basic fundamentals."

"Vank you, Madam Pince," Viktor said, nodding at her and accepting the list.

"You are most welcome," she replied.

Viktor looked at the list and saw that there were indeed a lot of books on it. He then walked over to the neatly organized shelves, looking through them, and, upon finding the first book on the list, immediately grabbed it and sat down several tables away from the pretty girl he had seen earlier.

He started to read the book, but quickly found it difficult to continue. Try as he might, he just couldn't concentrate on translating the English on the page into his native language in his mind. He put the book down for a moment. This isn't as easy as I thought it would be, Viktor thought to himself, I'll have to work on my English skills some more.

What shall I do now, then?

He turned to look at the girl at the table. She is pretty, he thought. Why is she so pretty? Her hair isn't that nice, actually. Her cheeks certainly aren't perfect. Maybe it's her youth.

He heard some noise from behind. Several more girls had entered the library and were looking at him excitedly, chattering amongst themselves. He looked over at Madam Pince, who was looking daggers at the new arrivals. He turned around to look at the young girl again, but he saw that she had left.

saturday, november 21 - Hogsmeade day

When Hermione woke up on Saturday, it was the first time in several weeks that she hadn't woken up because of a nightmare. She had forgotten how wonderful it felt to wake up peacefully.

She sat up slowly, savoring the moment. She let out a soft, slow yawn and opened the pink curtains herself. Lavender wasn't going to wake her up this time.

As she got to her feet, the events of past three weeks came back to her, and her happiness faded. Ron and Harry still weren't speaking to each other, and the first task was fast approaching. Hermione had read about the Triwizard Tournament prior to Halloween, and read even more about it after Harry's name had come out of the Goblet of Fire.

Even at their easiest, the tasks were always incredibly dangerous. Hermione was starting to worry that Harry wouldn't survive the first task, and she did not want him to die not speaking with Ron. Ron had been Harry's best friend since they first met, and Hermione didn't want Ron to throw it all away because of a petty grudge. I can't let that happen, Hermione thought. It would be wrong. Just wrong!

She walked out of the room, determined to fix their friendship before the day's end.

After she had showered and gotten her books, Hermione walked downstairs, sat at her usual table, and made a pretense of studying just as much as she usually did, but kept an eye on the staircase at all times. She was like a predator waiting for her prey, only unlike the predator, she wanted to help rather than harm.

What she intended to do was persuade Harry to come with her to Hogsmeade, for today was a Hogsmeade day. There, they would meet up with Ron, and she would mediate between them, repairing their broken bonds.

When Harry finally came down after several hours, he looked like he had not slept much at all. "Hello Hermione," Harry yawned. "Feeling alright?"

"Just fine," Hermione replied, putting down her book and standing up. "And you?"

"Oh, I'll probably be feeling better soon," Harry said quickly. "Wanna go down to breakfast now?"

"Certainly," Hermione said, picking up another one of her books from the table. "By the way, I found this in the library," she said, handing the book to Harry. "I know we've been through the library a lot already, and it hasn't seemed to help yet, but I think this book will."

"Thanks," Harry said blandly, taking the book into his hands and carrying it under his right shoulder, walking towards the portrait hole. Hermione followed him and they walked out together.

"Read it, Harry. You can't just ignore Summoning Charms forever, they're an important - "

"I understand that, Hermione," Harry muttered sarcastically. "Please forgive me if Summoning Charms aren't the first thing on my mind at the moment."

"Alright," Hermione said gently. After a couple seconds, she continued, "Do you have any idea yet what you'll be doing?"

"No, I'm not supposed to find out until Tuesday," Harry said bitterly.

"Well, I'm sure whatever it is, you'll make it through, Harry," Hermione said gently. "They wouldn't have set a task that was undoable," she whispered.

"I'll try asking Sirius for help when I see him tonight, then," Harry said.

"Good," Hermione said. She was glad that Harry would be meeting Sirius at the fireplace tonight, he needed another friend.

There was an awkward pause.

"Hermione," Harry said.

"Yes, Harry?"

"I'm sorry for being such a burden on you. You must be - "

"Don't worry about it," Hermione said reassuringly as they entered the Great Hall. The moment they entered, the low cacophany of everyone speaking to each other at once slowed to a halt as everyone momentarily focused their eyes on Harry and Hermione. They both walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down together, quietly commencing their breakfast as everyone else eventually turned back to their own buisiness.

"I can't imagine how you put up with this at every meal," Hermione said as she ate her bacon. "I'd go nutters."

"You think I'm not nutters?" Harry asked, deadpan.

"Harry," Hermione muttered disapprovingly, but she smiled nonetheless. "Say, Harry," Hermione started casually, between bites of toast, "today's a Hogsmeade day."

"Yeah, it is," Harry said, aimlessly twirling his spoon through his eggs.

"You know, it would really do you good to get away from the castle a bit, Harry," Hermione continued. "You need a bit of a break, to relax, you know."

"That's a bit rich coming from you, Hermione," Harry said, smiling half-heartedly.

"We all need to relax sometime," Hermione persisted, digging into her own eggs with her fork. "Why don't you come? You can walk around, you don't have to stick around everyone else, you can go wherever you want, and - "

"Sure, I'll come," Harry said, his half-hearted smile now becoming a full-fledged grin. As they sat there, though, Harry's grin faded and he continued, "What about Ron, though? Don't you want to go with him?"

He had forced her hand. "Oh... well..." Hermione stuttered, setting down her fork. "I thought we might meet up with him in the Three Broomsticks..."

Hermione picked her fork back up and resumed eating her eggs. Harry continued looking down at her and said flatly, "No."

Hermione laid down her fork more forcefully this time, looking up. "Oh Harry, this is so stupid - "

"I'll come," Harry said between his teeth, "but I'm not meeting Ron, and I'm wearing my Invisibility Cloak."

Hermione looked at him incredulously. He was being totally ridiculous, but she knew she had to give him what he wanted. "Oh all right then..." she said bitterly, "but I hate talking to you in that cloak, I never know if I'm looking at you or not."

"Alright then," Harry said. "I'll meet you by the doors, in the cloak." With that, he finished his breakfast and left.

Hermione sighed and returned to eating her breakfast. It's all gone downhill now, Hermione thought to herself disgustedly. Hearing a noise, she looked up and saw Ron sitting down across from her. "Good morning, Hermione," he said, as he started eating his breakfast.

"Good morning, Ron," she said. There was an awkward pause.

"Have you had a good morning, Hermione?" Ron asked.

"Not really," Hermione said. "Harry can be so stubborn sometimes."

"Only sometimes?" Ron replied.

"Ron, stop it," Hermione snapped. "This stupid feud has gone on long enough!"

"It'll go on until he apologizes to me," Ron said, casually eating his eggs.

"He misses you!" Hermione pleaded.

"He sure has a funny way of showing it!" Ron shouted.

"Listen to me," Hermione said slowly, "Whatever differences you have, you need to work them out before it's too late."

"Too late?" Ron said incredulously.

"Do you think the tasks are going to be easy, Ron?" Hermione said quickly. "I don't know about you, but I've been reading about this Triwizard Tournament, and there hasn't been a single task in it's entire history that hasn't been potentially life-threatening. The second task is in less than four days, and Harry doesn't know what it's going to be. That's four days - "

"Harry should have thought about that before - " Ron interrupted nervously, but he was interrupted by Hermione.

"You don't really think he entered himself, do you?" Hermione cried. "He's not that stupid, Ron."

"Alright, maybe he isn't, but he still seems to be enjoying himself," Ron replied.

"I've never seen him less happy in my life," Hermione said slowly, staring down Ron.

"Alright," Ron eventually sighed.

"I want you to promise me you'll try to talk to him sometime before Tuesday," Hermione said.

"I'll try," Ron said wearily. "I can't guarantee you he'll listen." He got up to leave, but then looked back to Hermione and said, "Hermione..."

"Thanks," Hermione said.

Ron turned away and walked over to the other end of the table, sitting down with Fred and George. Hermione was finishing her toast when suddenly a voice said, "Hello Hermione, I'm here,"

Hermione choked down the last bit of toast she had in her mouth. "Harry," she whispered fiercely, "you scared me half to death! And where's 'here'?"

"I'm sitting right next to you. On your left."

Hermione slowly turned her head to her left and looked at the 'empty' seat next to her. A thumb briefly appeared out of nowhere, then vanished.

"Alright, then," Hermione said quietly. "Ready to go to Hogmeade now?"

"Yes."

"Lets go," Hermione said, getting up. Assuming Harry was following her, she left the Great Hall and walked to where Filch was standing, near the front doors. After he checked her name off on his list, she walked out the front doors. When she was a safe distance away from Filch, she asked, "Are you still there Harry?"

"Of course," said his voice.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, Hermione was walking through the streets of Hogsmeade, with Harry supposedly right behind her, having just come out of Honeydukes Sweetshop. And she was starting to hate every minute of it. Stupid Harry and his stupid invisibility cloak, she thought to herself, continuing an inner rant that had been going on for almost ten minutes. Why can't he be a normal person? Surely it wouldn't hurt for him to actually listen to me, to make up with Ron and end this stupid feud and all our stupid problems. Instead he has to wear that stupid cloak, keep out of my sight and everyone else's.

She took a bite out of the rather large chocolate she was holding, chewing it forcefully and swallowing quickly.

Look at me. This is just stupid. Crazy. I'm stupid. I'm stupid? NO I'M NOT, HERMIONE!

"People keep looking at me now," she continued, mumbling aloud grumpily. "They think I'm talking to myself."

"Don't move your lips so much, then," came Harry's voice from behind her.

Hermione sighed. "Come on, please just take off your cloak for a bit, no one's going to bother you here," she said.

"Oh yeah? Look behind you."

Hermione peeked over her shoulder. She supposed she was looking right through Harry. Instead of seeing him, though, she saw Rita Skeeter and her photographer exiting the Three Broomsticks.

Oh - LANGUAGE, HERMIONE! she thought to herself as she saw them pass right by, to her left. Hermione had never seen anyone so profroundly ugly as Rita Skeeter; the fact that she was wearing way too much make-up only made it worse, not better. Fortunately, Skeeter didn't see her or Harry. They eventually walked out of sight.

"She's staying in the village," came Harry's voice from her left. "I'll bet she's coming to watch the first task."

"She's gone," Hermione breathed, instinctively turning to look where she had heard Harry from. Looking in that direction, she saw the Three Broomsticks. "Why don't we go and have a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks?" she asked.

Silence.

"It's a bit cold, isn't it?" she continued.

Silence.

"You don't have to talk to Ron!"

"Thanks. Let's go," came Harry's voice from in front of her. "I'll be right behind you." Hermione hesitated, not wanting to accidently bump into Harry. "Don't worry, I'm not in your way."

Hermione entered the Three Broomsticks, looking to see if Ron was there. He was there, but he looked busy, talking to his older brothers Fred and George. "I'll go get us a seat, corner table," whispered Harry's voice as Hermione felt a covered hand slowly turn her in the direction of the table. "You can get the drinks."

Hermione nodded slowly. She turned towards the counter and approached Madam Rosmerta. "Hello, little dear," Rosmerta said. "What can I get for you?"

"Two butterbeers, please," Hermione said, removing several sickles from her pocket.

"Alright," Rosmerta said, taking the money. She walked into a small room just behind her, and quickly came back out with two tankards.

"Thanks," Hermione said, taking the tankards. She turned around and walked towards the table Harry had showed her. As she was walking she passed Ron, Fred, and George's table.

"Hello, Hermione," said Fred cheerfully, standing up. "Care to join us?"

"No, that's alright," Hermione said with an awkward smile. "I'm sitting by myself today. Got a lot to think about."

"Alright then," Fred said, smiling. He sat down again next to Ron, who had barely even looked at Hermione, and went back to his previous conversaition.

Hermione finally arrived at the table. "Harry, are you there?" she whispered. A small but easily perceptible rap on the table confirmed his presence. Hermione sat down and slowly lowered one of the butterbeers under table, waiting until Harry took it.

She laid her arms on the table and sighed. "I look like such an idiot, sitting here on my own," Hermione muttered half to herself. She reached into another of her pockets and pulled out her S.P.E.W. notebook. "Lucky I brought something to do."

Hermione opened the notebook and looked at the small but growing list of names. Harry and Ron's were at the top, side by side. Things have changed, Hermione thought with a sigh.

But the list was still small.

"You know," Hermione said, "maybe I should try and get some of the villagers involved in S.P.E.W." She looked around the pub, which was mostly full of students.

"Yeah right," said Harry's voice. "Hermione, when are you going to give up on this spew stuff?"

"When house-elves have decent wages and working conditions," Hermione hissed slowly, trying not to think about her own conditions. "You know, I'm starting to think it's time for direct action. I wonder how you get into the school kitchens?"

"No idea, ask Fred and George."

Hermione dropped the subject and did not speak for a while. To pass the time, she looked through her notebook. Eventually she looked up, and when she did, she saw...

"Look, it's Hagrid!"

* * *

Viktor walked down the street slowly, his face partially hidden by his red hooded cloak. He liked the anonymity that came with no one being able to see his face, he liked being able to walk through crowds unnoticed except for the brilliant red color of his cloak.

He looked at the many stores around him, fascinated by the endless wonders they contained. He had never been outside of his native Bulgaria until recently, when he had started to play Quidditch professionally, and there were few wonders there like what he saw around him now. So far he had seen several pet stores, several book stores, and had spent a long time admiring the local Sweetshop, although he didn't buy anything.

Viktor soon came across another bookstore, this one apparently about animals. He walked in very eagerly. Over the past month, he had become increasingly uninterested in photography as anything other than a hobby. Now he wanted to study dragons. Throughout his childhood, he had been fascinated by the stories he heard about people who had seen dragons, and the stories about the men who dealt with them on a daily basis.

Walking in, he was suprised to see that the man behind the front desk was actually a ghost, aided apparently by a small boy who was sitting behind him reading a copy of... Viktor looked at the title carefully... Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

"How may I help you?" the ghost asked.

"I am loo-king for buchs about dragons," Viktor said. "I am hoping you haff vem in Bulgarian or German, I am not very skilled at reading English."

"Golly, he's the fifth person this weekened to ask about dragons, Dad!" said the boy, apparently adressing the ghost.

"Calm down, son," the ghost told the little boy. "Sir," he said to Viktor, "We have plenty of books on dragons near the back of the store, but I'm afraid they are all in English. We do, however, have a small supply of foreign language books in storage."

"Could you take me there?" Viktor asked.

"Yes, follow me," said the Ghost, who floated through the wall behind himself.

The boy immediately stood up, took a key out of his pocket and opened one of the doors behind the front desk. "He meant that you should go through this door here," the boy said. "Dad sometimes forgets that people can't go through walls. He died two years ago. But he's still cool, though."

"Vanks," Viktor said to the boy. Rather than go around the desk, Viktor decided to climb over it. He pushed himself up into a sitting position on the desk, then flipped himself around and dropped down the other side.

"Amazing!" said the little boy.

"Vanks," Viktor said, smiling down at the boy.

He walked through the open door. Looking around, he saw that he had entered a large room, filled with dusty bookshelves. He walked slowly down the room, stopping to look down the aisles at the contents of each shelf. He was fascinated by the variety.

Eventually, he came upon a shelf marked Deutsch. Looking down the aisle, he saw the ghost waiting for him next to some of the larger books on the shelf. "There you are," said the ghost. "I managed to find four German books on Dragons."

"How much for all ov vem?" Viktor asked.

"Ten Galleons," the ghost answered.

"I vill take all vour, then," said Viktor. He removed his camera from his pocket hesitantly. "Vould you mind if I took a votograph of you and the buchs?"

"I don't mind," said the ghost, breaking into a big grin.

"Vanks," said Viktor, raising his camera to his face. After he took the photo he picked up the books and walked back into the main bookstore with the ghost, where he gave the boy ten Galleons.

* * *

Later that night, Hermione sat in the common room, completely alone. She was hidden in a crevice near the portrait hole, holding a bag of Dungbombs in case someone came down and she had to make them leave. She didn't think that anyone would this late at night, but she didn't want to risk it.

What had started out as a good day for her had quickly gone sour. She had not yet achieved her goal to repair Harry and Ron's friendship, and had spent most of the day with Harry, who had been in his invisibility cloak. The one good thing was that she knew that Ron would at least try to make up with Harry before Tuesday, he had told her he would, so her goal would eventually be achieved, just a little later than planned.

At exactly one o'clock she saw Sirius's head pop into the fire. He looked a lot better off than he had when she last saw him He started looking around the room, presumably for Harry, who wasn't there yet. Hermione could see that Sirius looked worried. She knew, however, that Harry was with Hagrid, who had asked Harry to meet with him that night.

Eventually the portrait hole opened and Harry came through, gasping for breath. He looked around and saw Sirius in the fire.

"Sirius, how're you doing?" Harry asked.

"Never mind me, how are you?" said Sirius seriously.

After some hesitation, Harry proceeded to launch into a long description of the past month. Hermione didn't pay much attention to it, she had experienced most of it with him. She was about to drift off to sleep when suddenly something she heard aroused her from her stupor.

"... it's dragons, Sirius, and I'm a goner," Harry said.

The first task is dragons?! Hermione thought in panic. How can they do that to him, he has no idea how to deal with dragons!

Distantly, she heard Sirius say confidently, "Dragons we can deal with, Harry, but we'll get to that in a minute - I haven't got long here..."

She felt reassured by his confidence. She knew that if anyone could help Harry, it was Sirius. He was strong, brilliant, perfect, much like...

NO, Sirius Black is nothing like Gilderoy Lockhart. Sirius is much better than that...

Hermione couldn't find words appropriate enough for what she was thinking.

She tuned back into their conversation, which had shifted to talking about Karkaroff, who was evidently a Death Eater. Hermione found she didn't much care about that at the moment, she was more worried about Harry surviving the first task.

Finally, they returned to the important subject of how to defeat the dragons. She listened carefully, keeping track of what they were saying in her head. I knew that dragons couldn't be taken down by a stunning spell, that would be too easy... A simple spell, though... what is -

Suddenly she heard footsteps coming down the staircase. Harry quickly got up to block the view of the fire from the staircase while Hermione saw Sirius vanish back into the fire.

The footsteps got louder and louder, echoing loudly throughout the common room... or was it just in her head?... and eventually she saw the person who had been making them.

Ron.

Of all the timing in the world, Hermione thought, but then Ron spoke.

"Who were you talking to?"

"What's that got to do with you?" Harry snarled. "What are you doing here at this time of night?"

No, Hermione whimpered inside her head. No, no, no no no no...

"I just wondered where you - " Ron broke off, shrugging. "Nothing. I'm going back to bed."

Nothing, nothing, nothing... The word echoed in her head.

"Just thought you'd come nosing around, did you?" Harry shouted.

No, no, no no no no...

"Sorry about that," said Ron, his face reddening with anger. "Should've realized you didn't want to be disturbed. I'll let you get on with practicing for your next interview in peace."

It's all over, Hermione thought. She was starting to cry. Through her tears, she saw Harry pick up one of those POTTER STINKS badges and throw it at Ron. She didn't hear what Harry said next, she just saw him go upstairs past Ron, who just stood there in his too-small pajamas, looking dumbfounded.

Damn you, Harry, Hermione thought to herself. Damn you!

As Harry turned away from Ron and left, Hermione saw Ron sit down on the staircase, burying his face in his hands. He was crying. She was crying and swearing to herself. Harry was upstairs, presumably sleeping or about to sleep.

The trio was broken.