One Thing

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This Tornado Loves You

"Hermione Granger, just the witch we were looking for!" Fred Weasley exclaimed as he and his brother sat down on either side of her on the couch in front of the fire in the Common room. Hermione felt the need to close her book and sit back, glancing to either side of her.

"This cannot be good if you're looking for me," she pointed out.

"'Course not," Fred said.

"It's about the Tournament," George added. "We were thinking--"

"You're not seventeen," Hermione said matter-of-factly.

Fred rolled his eyes. "Exactly our point."

Hermione put two and two together and then shook her head. "Oh no, no, no, and no." Picking up her unnaturally large book, she rested it against her chest as she stood and looked down at the twins. "Whatever scheme you're thinking of, count me out of it."

She should have just helped them. She could have pretended to make them a proper potion, just to make them happy, but she was not yet in the frame of mind to bend rules. That Hermione would come in the near future, but not today.

So as everyone was crowding around the Goblet of Fire, circled by Dumbledore's age line, Hermione just shook her head and sat down on a bench to read through a book. To be honest, she had come to see the outcome of whatever Fred and George's plan was. And then in they came, causing hooting and hollering from the crowd.

"It's not going to woooork," Hermione announced in a sing-song voice. The twins heard and came trooping over, Fred plopping down on her right, George on her left.

"Oh yeah?" Fred said.

"And why is that, Granger?" George finished.

Hermione turned toward the cup and pointed. "See this? This is an Age Line. Dumbledore drew it himself."

Fred didn't see the point. "So?"

"So!" she exclaimed, glancing at him and closing her book. "A genius like Dumbledore couldn't possibly by fooled by a dodge as pathetically dimwitted as an Aging Potion."

"Ah but that's why it's so brilliant--"

"Because it's so pathetically dimwitted," George finished, once again.

There was no more talking about it. They were going to do it no matter what she said to caution them. Shaking her head, Hermione watched them jump over the line and, as she suspected, getting thrown back and aged drastically within seconds. Amid the shouts from the crowd surrounding the tussling brothers, Hermione settled down and went back to her book.

***

Hermione Granger had no idea why she was so flustered lately. She spent more time worrying about the Triwizard Tournament tasks than Harry did, and then there was the Yule Ball that everyone around the castle was bustling about. Hermione herself wasn't planning on attending to begin with; she was going to make better use of her time and study while every one else was doing trivial things like getting dressed up and dancing. It never even occurred to her that she might want to go...

They were having lunch, a book was open before her, as usual, Ron sitting next to her, Harry across the table. A few other Gryffindors were near the middle of the table around them, though it wasn't a full as dinner always was. Ginny was closer to the professors' platform with a group of female Quidditch players, and the Weasley twins were just a few feet down the bench.

Harry and Ron were moaning about finding no one to go to the ball with, while Hermione just shook her head behind her bushy hair and sighed. As if there was a big importance! Of course, for Harry it was, since he was a champion and he had to attend thanks to tradition, but Hermione didn't think it was right of her friends to objectify the few single girls at the school who would love to attend a ball for the evening.

"Hermione." Ron's voice cut through the line about potions that were founded in the sixteenth century. "You're a girl."

Hermione huffed, but didn't lift her head. "Well spotted," she muttered.

"Since I don't have someone to go with, do you wanna go with me?" he asked, not at all ashamed that he didn't sound as enthused as someone in his situation should be.

Harry watched them closely from across the table.

"And what gave you that idea?" Hermione asked, lifting her head and looking over at him, a frustrated look in her eyes. Just then, however, Fred Weasleys voice crashed through whatever awkward silence was in the area.

"Oi, Angelina!" he called down to where all the Quidditch players were chattering.

She looked over at him, annoyed. "What?" she nearly barked.

"Wanna go to the ball with me?" Fred asked, lifting his arms and pretending like he was dancing.

There was no hub-bub about it. "Sure." Angelina shrugged then went back to her conversation about the lack of female seekers at Hogwarts.

Hermione, for reasons beyond her control, felt peeved at the exchange. She had never thought much about Fred Weasley. Yes, he was Ron's older brother. Yes, he was always joking around. Yes, his twin was almost always attached to his hip. But she hadn't thought of him as more than just another person in her life, even when she, Harry and the Weasleys had been squished into their family tent at the Quidditch World Cup. However...that didn't match up to what feelings were swirling around in the pit of her stomach right now.

Ron's elbowing her in the side jerked her, and she turned to glare at him. He didn't seem to notice.

"What d'you say?"

Hermione, uncomfortable with this whole new set of feelings, slammed her book shut and stood. "I'm not going!" she screeched, before hugging her book to her chest and walking quickly from the Great Hall.

She bowed her head, wanting to go straight to the library with no interruptions. She would immerse herself in books and forget whatever happened down in the Great Hall. Unfortunately, that would not be the case. When she got close enough to the library to smell the books, she rounded a corner and bumped into someone. A rather large, well-muscled someone.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said out of habit before flipping hair out of her face and looking up to find the face of Viktor Krum looking at her. He had been hanging around the library often as of late, talking to her about whatever things he could explain well enough in English and watching her study. It was...different, and she wasn't sure what to make of it, however she wasn't going to tell him to stop. He was a celebrity and he wasn't mean to her. "Oh, hello."

He smiled at her, his way of accepting her apology for smacking into him. "Vere you studying?" he asked, noticing the thin book in her arms.

"Oh...well, I was going to," she said. "Is there something...were you waiting for someone?" And by someone, she meant her.

"I vish to ask you something."

"Okay."

***

She had said yes. Why the sudden change of heart? She didn't know. Hormones? That weird feeling she got in the Great Hall just a week earlier? Hermione had no idea. And now, standing in front of the mirror in the fourth year girls' dormitory...she was beginning to second guess her eagerness to join in the festivities. Everyone else had left. Almost all the third years, and the second and first years had gone home for the holidays. The Gryffindor Common room was empty as she walked through the halls and wrung her hands before peeking around the corner of the stairs where students had begun pooling around.

Sucking in a breath, she stepped into their line of sight and spotted Viktor straight away. He seemed to brighten when he saw her, which made her almost instantly blush and drop her hands to her sides as she walked down the stairs. Harry was there, with Parvati, both of whom gave her a smile. She smiled nervously at them as Viktor offered his hand and she was guided into line with the other champions and their dates.

And then it was a whirl of fancy dancing, Viktor's hands strong on her waist and pressed against her own small one in comparison. The Weird Sistersexploded onto stage, and everyone started going berzerk as they rambled out tunes about hippogriff and love spells and whatever else pertained to the wizarding world. Viktor wasn't a bad date, and she almost forgot about her odd feelings surrounding Fred Weasley. That is, until she found herself being forced to dance as wildly as a Granger would with Fred and George and their dates dancing full out right next to her.

She was getting heated from head to toe and asked Viktor if he could get her a drink. He obliged her and they left the dance floor. She spotted Harry and Ron, both looking depressed as they dates were taken away by handsome Bulgarians, and decided to put on a brave, happy face, for some reason wanting to rub in the fact that she was having a better time than they

***

The Final Task. It was supposed to end fabulously, not deadly. Hermione had found herself standing between a group of red-headed wizards: Ron, Fred and George. Ginny was a few seats down, standing with a long haired blonde and the Patil twins. Everyone cheered when Harry suddenly appeared, not knowing that something was wrong until Fleur screamed and Hermione's blood ran cold. When Cedric Diggory's father saw his son, his agonizing cry cutting through the almost silent air, Hermione grabbed the arm of the person closest to her; who just happened to be Fred Weasley. Her fingers curled around his jumper sleeve, eyes brimming with tears. Dumbledore snapped around and yelled for them to all go back to their houses.

Hermione did as she was told, caught up in the huge wave of students, some crying, some still not knowing what was going on. The crowd split into four ways as the four houses started toward their Common room. Taking a few steps up the staircase, Hermione realized she was still attached to Fred, who had not been blind to the constant tug on his arm. She let go of the fabric and instantly found Ginny grabbing her elbow.

"Did you see what happened?" Ginny asked, tears glistening.

"Not exactly," Hermione whispered, tugging the younger girl up the stairs. The fingers that had gripped the handmade sleeve tingled, but it was overshadowed by the fact that a perfectly great young wizard had just been killed.