Disclaimer: See Part 1.
Author's Note: First of all, thank you, everyone, who read and reviewed the first part of this fic! I'm so glad you enjoyed it so much!
To answer all of your questions (although you'll see soon enough), no, Harry and Viktor are not going to be fighting over who gets to save Hermione. The Tournament can't possibly work that way and, besides, in this fic, Viktor still barely knows Hermione. He danced with her once at the Ball and that's it. She is nowhere near being the person he'll miss most-and I'll only add that, in canon, it is so wrong that simply after going to the Yule Ball together and afterwards spending basically no time together, Hermione has suddenly become what Viktor would miss most in the world. It is simply not realistic to imagine that V/Hr became that serious so quickly when Hermione spent most of the time between the Yule Ball and the 2nd task helping Harry research for the 2nd task-but then again, JKR's already proven many times over that she wouldn't recognize a truly meaningful relationship if it came up and bit her on the arse…
And now, without further ado, the Second Task!
His Precious Friend
Part 2
Something was poking him painfully in the side and he swatted at it. "That hurts. Stop poking me!"
"Harry Potter must wake up, sir! Dobby must poke Harry Potter, sir, he must wake up!"
Harry jerked awake to find that he had dozed off in the library, blinking as he adjusted his glasses and stared at Dobby.
"Dobby- what…"
"Harry Potter needs to hurry!" squeaked Dobby. "The second task starts in 20 minutes and Harry Potter--"
"20 minutes?" Harry croaked. He looked down at his watch to see that it was ten after nine; he was supposed to be down at the lake this minute.
"Hurry, Harry Potter!" Dobby insisted, trying ineffectually to pull Harry up by his sleeve. "You is supposed to be down by the lake with the other champions, sir!"
"It's too late, Dobby," Harry said glumly. "I'm not doing the task, I don't know how…"
"Harry Potter has to go into the lake and find his Missmynee-"
"Find my what?"
"-- and take his Missmynee back from the merpeople!"
"What's a Missmynee?"
"Your Missmynee, sir, your Missmynee, who is bringing Harry Potter down to visit Dobby and who is so nice to Dobby and Winky, your Missmynee!"
Realization crashed down on Harry with the force of a tree trunk landing on his head, knocking all the breath from his body. "What?" Harry gasped, something very cold spreading through his stomach and feeling his throat close up from shock and dismay, "They've got… they've got Hermione?"
"The thing Harry Potter will miss most, sir!" Dobby insisted, practically dancing in place in his anxiety. "And past an hour--"
"-the prospect's black'," Harry recited, horror-struck. "'Too late, it's gone, it won't come back…' Dobby-what can I do?" he asked desperately. Hermione… Gone… Won't come back… The words from the rhyme rang ominously through his mind, panic beginning to flare up inside him. Not Hermione; he couldn't lose Hermione…
Dobby reached into the pocket of his shorts and drew out a ball of what looked like slimy, grayish-green rat tails. "Gillyweed, sir! Dobby is finding out where there is Gillyweed like Missmynee asked him to, Harry Potter sir, and now Harry Potter must save his Missmynee!"
Harry snatched at the Gillyweed with one hand, stuffing it into his pocket, as he grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and stuffed it into his bag with the other and tore out of the library at a breakneck pace, with Dobby at his heels.
"Dobby is supposed to be in the kitchens, sir!" Dobby squealed as they burst into the corridor. "Dobby will be missed-good luck, Harry Potter, sir, good luck!"
"Thanks, Dobby!" Harry shouted and sprinted down the stairs, taking them three at a time, fear and worry lending speed to his feet. He made a brief mental note to get Dobby as many pairs of socks as he could carry on the next trip to Hogsmeade.
"Dobby could not let Harry Potter lose his Missmynee!" he heard Dobby squeal from behind him and then he was down in the Entrance Hall, where people were heading through the double oak doors to watch the Second task. They stared as he flashed past, bursting out into the bright, chilly grounds and headed for the lake at a sprint, as all the while, his mind kept up a running litany. Hermione… gone… won't come back… Need to save Hermione… Hermione… Save Hermione…
As he ran, he saw that the seats that had encircled the dragons' enclosure in November had been set up along the opposite bank, rising in stands and reflected in the lake below. It was already quite crowded, the sound of the excited babble from the crowd echoing strangely across the water as Harry sprinted towards the judges.
A figure separated from the people milling around as Ron ran towards him. "Where the bloody hell have you been? I woke up late and when you weren't in the room or the Common Room, I assumed you'd come down already and I was just going to go find you! D'you know what you're going to do?" he panted, having grabbed Harry's arm and begun half-tugging Harry forward (not that he needed to as Harry wasn't about to stop his flat-out sprint).
"Gillyweed," Harry answered shortly, out of breath from running. "Dobby found some."
"Dobby!" Ron exclaimed but they had reached the judges and Harry had no time or breath to say anything more.
"I'm… here…" Harry panted, skidding to a halt.
"Where have you been?" asked a bossy voice, in a disapproving tone. "The task's about to start; you should have been here 15 minutes ago!"
Harry looked around to see Percy Weasley-and, yet again, no sign of Mr. Crouch.
"Now, now, Percy," Ludo Bagman chimed in genially, "let him catch his breath!"
Dumbledore smiled at Harry but Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked less than pleased.
Harry bent over, gasping for breath, feeling as if his heart might pound its way out of his throat but he had no time to recover as Ludo Bagman had already begun moving among the champions, spacing them out along the bank at intervals of ten feet. Harry found himself at the end of the line, next to Krum, who was wearing swimming trunks and holding his wand ready.
"All right, Harry?" Bagman whispered, as he moved Harry a few feet further away from Krum. "Know what you're going to do?"
"Yeah," Harry panted, massaging his ribs.
Bagman gave Harry's shoulder a quick squeeze that Harry took to be supportive, and returned to the judges' table. He pointed his wand at his throat, saying, "Sonorus!" and his voice boomed out across the dark water.
"Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely one hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One… two… three!"
The whistle echoed shrilly, cutting through the cold, still air and Harry quickly pulled off his shoes and socks, pulled the handful of Gillyweed out of his pocket and stuffed it into his mouth, as he waded out into the lake.
The lake was so cold he shivered, the water touching his skin feeling like fire rather than cold water. He was rapidly losing feeling in his feet but kept on walking, ignoring the discomfort through the one urgent thought of Have to save Hermione echoing in his head.
The Gillyweed was slimy and rubbery, like octopus tentacles, and he fought to keep from gagging, his steps slowing slightly as he waited for something to happen.
He was vaguely aware of laughter and the sound of jeering coming from the stands but then all thought of the spectators vanished as he suddenly felt as if he were being suffocated, something holding his mouth and nose so he couldn't breathe. There was a piercing pain on either side of his neck and for a panicked moment, he wondered if this was what it felt like to have his throat cut before his hands came up around his throat, to feel two slits just below his ears-and he knew. He had gills.
Just like the book Hermione had found said…
Feeling a surge of adrenaline, he flung himself forward into the water, taking a great gulp of water and feeling it pass smoothly through his gills, sending oxygen to his brain. His hands had turned green and become webbed, as had his feet, and he kicked out experimentally and marveled at how quickly his new flipper-like feet propelled him through the water. He was a fish, for all intents and purposes; Hermione had, as usual, been right that Gillyweed was just what he needed.
The thought of Hermione galvanized him, tearing his mind away from its passing distraction with the changes Gillyweed had wrought on his body, and he swam forward quickly, looking around for some sight of the mer-people or of Hermione herself.
The landscape under-water was very different; he swam past little schools of fish and some clumps of seaweed-and then, without warning, something grabbed hold of his ankle.
Harry jerked and twisted around to see a Grindylow poking out of the weeds, its long fingers clutched tightly around Harry's leg, its fangs bared. Harry fumbled for his wand as two more Grindylows seized handfuls of Harry's robes, tugging him down.
"Relashio!" Harry shouted-or tried to shout-and his wand shot out what looked to be a jet of boiling water that left red patches where it hit the Grindylows. He yanked his ankle out of the Grindylows' grip and swam away as fast as he could, sending occasional jets of hot water from his wand. Occasionally he felt one of the Grindylows grab for his foot and he kicked out, hard, until he felt his foot connect with a horned skull.
Finally away from the Grindylows, Harry allowed himself to slow down a little, to listen for anything that might lead him to Hermione. He heard nothing, the silence of the water oppressive and he wondered how Hermione was, wherever she was. Where would the mer-people have taken her to? He could tell that he was deep into the lake already and there was still no sign of her. He wondered what they had done to her to allow her to stay underwater for so long, wondered if she were conscious. Was she scared, worried? His heart clenched at the thought of Hermione scared; he didn't know how she felt about water, though he knew she didn't like heights. He didn't like to think of Hermione being frightened; it occurred to him that she was so brave most of the time, the idea of Hermione being timid or frightened seemed foreign to him and all the more upsetting for that reason.
"How are you getting on?"
Harry nearly had a heart attack at the question and spun around to see Moaning Myrtle floating hazily in front of him, watching him through her thick glasses.
"Myrtle!" Harry tried to shout but only managed to produce a very large bubble.
Myrtle giggled (an oddly grating sound under-water) and pointed in a direction he hadn't gone yet. "You want to try over there!" she told him, "I won't come with you… I don't like them much, they always chase me when I get too close…"
Harry nodded and gave her a thumbs-up to thank her and set off swimming, keeping a careful watch for any other Grindylows that might be lurking.
He swam for what felt like a very long time, passing over vast expanses of black mud which swirled around him as he disturbed the water. Then finally, he heard the faint sound of the haunting mer-song.
"An hour long you'll have to look,
And to recover what we took…"
Harry swam faster until he saw a large rock emerge out of the muddy water with paintings of mer-people on it, carrying spears and chasing what looked like the giant squid. Harry swam past the rock, following the mer-song.
"…your time's half-gone, so tarry not
Lest what you seek stays here to rot…"
Harry shuddered a little in spite of himself at the thought of that happening to Hermione and kicked his feet propelling himself forward faster. He was passing what must be the beginnings of the mer-people's village, crude stone dwellings and here and there, faces.
These mer-people had grayish skins and long, wild, dark green hair, yellow eyes, broken teeth and they wore thick ropes of pebbles around their necks.
Harry sped on past, paying little attention to the mer-people who were coming out to watch him, pointing at his webbed hands and gills and talking behind their hands to each other.
And then he saw it: a whole crowd of mer-people floating in front of houses around what looked like the mer-version of a village square. A choir of mer-people were singing in the middle and behind them rose a crude sort of statue of a giant mer-person hewn from a boulder. And he saw Hermione.
She was tied in between Cho Chang and an older man with dark hair and the same hooked nose as Krum which he guessed must be Viktor's father. There was also a little girl, who looked no older than eight, with clouds of silvery hair that told Harry she must be Fleur Delacour's little sister. All of them appeared to be sleeping deeply, their heads lolling onto their shoulders and fine streams of bubbles coming from their mouths.
He felt a moment's relief that Hermione hadn't been scared or waiting for him while he'd been swimming around looking for her.
He propelled himself toward the hostages, wondering if the mer-people were going to attack him but they did nothing. The ropes of weed tying the hostages to the statue were thick, slimy and very strong and Harry thought longingly of the knife Sirius had given him for Christmas-locked in his trunk and no use to him whatsoever.
He hurriedly looked around, seeing that many of the mer-people were carrying spears and swam towards a seven-foot-tall merman with a long green beard and a choker of shark fangs and tried to mime a request to borrow the spear. The merman laughed and shook his head.
"We do not help," he said in a harsh voice.
"Come on!" Harry urged in frustration-or tried to urge as only bubbles came from his mouth-and tried to pull the spear away from the merman but the merman yanked it back, shaking his head and laughing.
Harry spun around, giving up and looking frantically around for something else, something sharp…
He dove and grabbed a jagged rock and returned to the statue, beginning to hack at the ropes binding Hermione, his hands slippery with his webbed fingers. But after a few minutes' hard work, the robes broke apart and Hermione floated, unconscious, drifting a little in the water.
Harry glanced around, wondering where the other champions were and not seeing any sign of them. He glanced once at Hermione to make sure she was still unconscious before beginning to hack at the ropes around Cho when instantly, several strong grey hands seized him and pulled him away.
"You take your own hostage," one of them instructed him. "Leave the others…"
"No way!" Harry refused-or tried to refuse.
"Your task is to retrieve your own friend… leave the others…"
"She's my friend, too!" Harry protested, gesturing towards Cho (well, he knew her and he still rather liked her; he certainly didn't want her to be harmed). "And I don't want them to die, either!"
He tried to fight off the mermen but they were too strong and outnumbered him anyway. He looked around for the other champions, wondering where they were and wondering if he'd have time to take Hermione to the surface and then come back for the others…
Then the mer-people started pointing excitedly over his head and Harry looked up to see Cedric swimming towards them. There was an emormous bubble around his head, making his features look oddly wide and stretched.
"Get lost!" he mouthed. "Fleur and Krum're coming now!"
Relieved, Harry watched as Cedric pulled out a knife from his pocket and cut Cho free, pulling her upwards and out of sight.
There was still no sign of Fleur and Krum, though, and Harry lingered.
The mer-people started screeching and Harry turned to see something- something monstrous- cutting through the water: a human body in swimming trunks with the head of a shark… And Harry realized it was Krum; he appeared to have Transfigured himself- badly.
The shark-man swam straight to the older man and began snapping and biting at his ropes but didn't manage to achieve much of anything, thanks to the awkward position of the shark's teeth and Harry was beginning to think Krum would only succeed in ripping his father into two. He darted forwards, hitting Krum in the shoulder and holding up the jagged stone, which Krum seized and began to cut his father free. That done, he grabbed his father around the waist and began to swim up towards the surface.
But there was still no sign of Fleur…
He glanced at the little girl and made a quick decision, snatching up the stone again but the mermen closed in around the statue, shaking their heads at him.
He pulled out his wand. "Get out of the way!"
The mermen stopped laughing at his order, staring at Harry's wand with a touch of fear in their eyes.
"You've got until three!" Harry shouted, in bubbles, but he held up three fingers to make sure they understood and folding one finger down for each number as he counted. "One… two…"
The mer-people scattered and Harry sped forward, cutting at the ropes tying the little girl to the statue until she was free.
He grabbed the girl around the waist with one arm and held onto Hermione's waist with his other and began swimming upwards.
It was hard going, without his webbed hands to propel himself forwards and Hermione and Fleur's sister were dead-weights dragging him back down… He kicked desperately, trying to propel his way upwards.
The mer-people were rising with him and Harry wondered sickly if they would drag him back down when the hour was up.
His legs were aching, his shoulders hurting too and it was getting much harder to breathe. He became aware of the pain on his neck again and of the water in his mouth… He kicked hard with his flippers only to discover that they were only feet again, water flooding into his lungs. He was beginning to feel dizzy… but he could see the surface now-he had to reach it, needed to get there…
Harry kicked out with his legs with one last burst of desperate energy though every muscle in his legs protested-and then, finally, he felt his head break the surface of the lake. He could breathe! Wonderful, life-giving air was around him and he gulped it in, deciding he would never take oxygen for granted again, as he pulled Hermione and Fleur's sister up with him. All around him, green-haired heads were emerging out of the water- but they were smiling at him now.
He could hear the crowd in the stands shouting and screaming and he wondered if they thought Hermione and the little girl were dead. They weren't; both of them opened their eyes and he felt a swift surge of relief when Hermione spit out some water, blinking in the sunlight and then turned to him with a small smile. The little girl looked scared and confused.
"Harry, you did it! How did you-" Hermione began.
"Dobby found Gillyweed," he explained briefly, panting, answering her question before she could finish it.
Hermione turned to see Fleur's sister. "Oh Harry, why did you bring her too?"
"Fleur didn't turn up. I couldn't leave her," Harry panted.
Hermione looked torn between amusement and sympathy. "Harry, you didn't really believe that Dumbledore would let any of us drown, did you, no matter what the song said?"
"But--"
"That was only to make sure you got back inside the time limit."
Harry suddenly felt very stupid and for a moment, wished he could dive back into the lake where he wouldn't have to face everyone again, but then Hermione smiled at him with understanding and he felt better. So what if he had been a bit silly; Hermione wasn't laughing at him and that was more important than what other people might say.
He managed a smile finally as he and Hermione pulled Fleur's sister through the water, towards the bank where the judges waited.
He could see Madam Pomfrey fussing over Cedric and Cho, and Krum and Krum's father (which was a somewhat amusing sight), all of whom were wrapped in thick blankets. Dumbledore and Ludo Bagman stood beaming at Harry and Hermione as they swam nearer.
Ron, looking rather white, was waiting beside Dumbledore and Bagman but he didn't wait and splashed out into the water to meet them.
"Harry, what took you so bloody long; I was beginning to worry. And Hermione, are you okay? What happened down there? How did you-where were you guys?" Ron's questions spilled out of him, revealing the depths of his concern.
Harry was distracted by the sight of Madame Maxime trying to restrain Fleur Delacour, who looked nearly hysterical, fighting to return to the water and half-crying, "Gabrielle! Gabrielle! Is she alive? Is she 'urt?"
"She's fine!" Harry tried to tell her but was too exhausted and his throat too sore from the amount of water he had swallowed and the shouting he had tried to do under-water that hardly a sound came out.
Hermione was the one who shouted, "She's fine," to reassure Fleur, who calmed down very slightly but still looked frantic.
Ron had, meanwhile, gotten in between Harry and Hermione, beginning to half-push, half-drag them to the bank with an arm around each of their shoulders ("Let go, Ron, I'm fine!" Hermione insisted, half-laughing); Dumbledore and Bagman pulled Harry upright; and Fleur managed to break free from Madame Maxime and was hugging her sister like she would never let her go again.
"It was ze Grindylows… zey attacked me… oh, Gabrielle, I thought… I thought…" she explained tearfully to her sister.
"Come here, you," came Madam Pomfrey's voice and she grabbed Harry and pulled him over to the others, wrapping him so tightly in a blanket he felt as though he were being half-smothered, and forced a measure of some very hot potion down his throat, causing steam to gush out his ears.
Hermione ignored Madam Pomfrey's fussing (to say nothing of Ron's) to fly at Harry, throwing her arms around him and then she did something she had never done before and kissed his cheek, as well. Harry suddenly felt a burst of warmth inside his chest and stomach and a blush color his cheeks (and he wondered if steam was coming out of his ears again). "Well done, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, her grin wider than he could ever remember seeing it, as she drew back. "You did it; you really did it!"
Harry opened his mouth to say it was thanks to her and to Dobby but noticed that Krum was watching them closely with a distinctly displeased expression on his face, paying little heed to his father who was talking to him in rapid Bulgarian. He turned away, stepping slightly closer to Hermione and lowered his voice slightly. "It was thanks to you, really. You were the one that asked Dobby about Gillyweed and found out about it."
Hermione shrugged it off, although a pleased flush colored her cheeks. "It was nothing, Harry; and you still had to find us and everything." She paused and then asked, "How long did it take you to find us?"
And while he'd felt better about his foolishness before, now, surrounded by everyone else and out of the water, he was beginning to feel more and more stupid. Of course Dumbledore wouldn't have allowed the death of a hostage just because their champion hadn't turned up; he should have known better! He would have been first back… Cedric and Krum hadn't wasted any time worrying about anyone else; they hadn't taken the mer-song seriously… He could have been the first one back… Hermione would really have been excited and happy for him then…
He somehow found he didn't want to admit he had been the first one to find them and had wasted so much time-but he couldn't lie to her either. "I-erm- it took some time but I- I found you guys first," he admitted, wondering if he looked as sheepish as he felt.
He was almost afraid of how Hermione would react but she didn't laugh and, although she smiled, her smile was indulgent, understanding, not mocking. "Oh Harry…" she sighed.
He shrugged a little despite the weight of the blanket on his shoulders, trying to look like he didn't mind too much and turned to watch Dumbledore, who was deep in conversation with the leader of the mer-people, both of them speaking in the screechy noises that the mer-people sounded like when they were above water. Harry blinked; apparently Dumbledore could speak Mermish-what else could Dumbledore do, he wondered idly.
Finally Dumbledore straightened up and turned to his fellow judges, saying, "A conference before we give the marks, I think."
The judges went into a huddle as Madam Pomfrey fussed over Ron, who was, thanks to having dashed out to meet Harry and Hermione, nearly as wet as the champions and the hostages were. Harry saw Ron grimace a little as he drank the Pepper-Up potion.
Madam Pomfrey then turned to Fleur and her sister; Fleur refused to let Madam Pomfrey heal the cuts on her face and arms and insisted she fuss over Gabrielle instead.
"Look after Gabrielle," she told Madam Pomfrey and turned away, going to Harry. "You saved 'er," she said breathlessly, "Even though she was not your 'ostage."
"Yeah," Harry answered, swallowing past the constriction of his throat at having Fleur speaking to him. And then Fleur took him completely by surprise as she bent and kissed Harry twice on each cheek, leaving him to stare, wide-eyed, his cheeks burning.
He noted that Ron's mouth was twisted into an odd grimace while Hermione looked less-than-pleased and he moved closer to Hermione, trying to laugh a little and hoping his cheeks would cool down. "That was unexpected," he tried to make light of it.
"I'm sure," Hermione answered, her voice a little tight, but just then Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice boomed out, making them all jump as they turned to look at the judges.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Mer-cheiftainess 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…"
Harry let out a breath, hoping he didn't look as apprehensive as he suddenly felt, and sensed Hermione shift just a little bit closer to him.
"Miss 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."
There was applause from the stands and Harry heard Fleur say, "I deserved zero," shaking her head.
"Mr. 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." The Hufflepuffs in the crowd erupted into enormous cheers and Cho gave Cedric a glowing smile. "We therefore award him forty-seven points."
Harry felt his heart sink and his stomach clench a little. If Cedric hadn't even made it within the time limit, then he must have been over the limit by at least half an hour…
"Mr. 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."
Harry noticed that Hermione smiled and was clapping politely while Karkaroff was clapping enthusiastically, looking smug. Krum's father was beaming with pride as he clapped Viktor on the shoulder and applauded loudly.
"Mr. Harry Potter used Gillyweed to great effect," Bagman continued while Harry tried hard not to look as apprehensive and as silly as he felt. "He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Mer-chieftainess 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."
Ron shook his head slightly and gave Harry a half-exasperated, half-commiserating look, while Hermione sighed, "Oh, Harry…"
"Most of the judges--" Bagman paused to throw Karkaroff a glare--, "feel that this shows moral fiber and merits full marks. However… Mr. Potter's score is forty-five points."
Harry stared, feeling his heart leap and begin to clatter around in his chest. He was tied for first place with Cedric! Tied!
Ron laughed as he started applauding hard. "There you go, Harry!" he shouted. "You weren't being thick after all-you were showing moral fiber!"
Hermione was beaming and clapping enthusiastically and Harry felt a grin split his face nearly in two as he returned her smile, warmth blossoming in his chest at the pride and approval in Hermione's eyes.
Fleur was also clapping hard and smiling at Harry-her smile making her look so stunning, despite the cuts on her face and her torn robes, that for a fleeting moment, Harry was momentarily floored-but then his gaze returned to Hermione's face and he forgot all about Fleur.
Krum had moved closer to them and pulled Hermione a little apart, ostensibly to introduce Hermione to his father, Harry noted, his grin faltering just the slightest bit as Hermione turned to Viktor and his father.
Ron took advantage of all the noise to address Harry quietly, sure of not being over-heard. "They took Hermione; she's the 'something precious' to you…" he began.
Harry felt himself color, swallowing and hoping desperately that Ron wasn't angry or upset. "I guess," was his lame response, for lack of anything better to say.
"D'you fancy her, then?" Ron asked, with the air of one asking a disagreeable question he didn't really want to know the answer to.
Harry's gaze went to Hermione, who was smiling politely at Krum's father, nodding as he spoke to her in what appeared to be rather halting English. At that moment, she glanced over at Harry and met his eyes, giving him a fleeting smile, before she turned back to Viktor and his father.
Harry turned back to Ron. "I-erm- I'm not sure," he admitted lamely-and with something less than complete honesty. He wasn't completely sure-but he strongly suspected he did, or was beginning to, fancy Hermione for real… Something about her just- just affected him, now-made his heart flutter, distracted him, made him think about her more… Made him think about kissing her, which he never had before about any other girl, including Cho…
Ron nodded, once, looking as if he were trying to come to terms with Harry's less-than-decisive answer. "OK, then," was all he said.
"Would- would you mind if- if I did?" Harry blurted out before he could think better of it and then wishing he could call the words back once they left his mouth.
Ron hesitated, glanced at Hermione and then back at Harry, before saying slowly, "I-er- I guess not. I mean, if she likes you and all…"
If…
Harry's stomach twisted a little at Ron's last words. "I don't-she might not-I'm not-" he stammered incoherently.
The ghost of a smile crossed Ron's face at Harry's sudden inability to form a complete sentence. "OK, then," he said again.
They were distracted by Bagman's next announcement that cut through the continuing noise from the crowd. "The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June. The champions will be notified of what is coming, precisely one month beforehand. Thank you for all your support of the champions."
Before Harry could do more than feel a quick surge of relief that he was free for the next four months, Hermione was back by his side, smiling at him, as Madam Pomfrey began to herd all the champions and the hostages back to the castle to change into warm, dry clothes.
Harry glanced back at Viktor Krum and his father, noting that Viktor's expression was still rather disgruntled, with a renegade spurt of gladness which he was promptly ashamed of. He had nothing against Krum as a person, he told himself; he just didn't like Krum's continuing attention to Hermione. As if Viktor Krum really knew anything about Hermione…
And then he shocked himself by thinking, Hermione was his.
Wait. What? His? Where had that come from? She wasn't…
She was his best friend, the person he trusted the most and cared about most in the world, along with Ron… She was…
He stopped, as he suddenly remembered what Dobby had said earlier, the thing Harry Potter will miss most.
Hermione was- the thing, the person, he would miss most… Someone precious…
He glanced at Hermione, walking beside him and telling Ron her very simple side of the story of what had happened after she had gone to McGonagall's office that night.
She was… precious…
And Harry knew.
He did fancy Hermione. Cared about her. A lot.
But how did she feel about him? Did she-could she-fancy him too, care about him as more than just her best friend? He didn't know.
And what was he going to do about it?
~The End~
(Sort of but not really…)
Note 1: In GoF when Percy is the one to splash out and meet Ron, pale with worry, I liked Percy for that and so I was willing to make allowances for him in OotP. After HBP, I'm not and Percy's joined Ginny in the list of Weasleys I dislike ('tho Ginny has the dubious honor of being #1 on the Weasleys I hate list) and so I was very glad to have this chance to negate the one thing that had made me think Percy wasn't so bad. So Percy can be the unmitigated jackass and Ron can be, well, better. :-)
Note 2: Before you all decide to hunt me down, wanting to kill me for ending this here, yes, there's a sequel to this one too, which will be posted in a few days as the next chapter of this fic.