A Cloak & Dagger State of Affairs - Chapter 11

MISSION HOGWARTS

Chapter 4 - Hermione

20th November

Hogwarts was under siege by cold winds creeping into the castle through the nooks and crannies of the stone walls. Students were huddled in groups and many fighting for a place by the fire. Most were talking about how bad December was going to be and all wanted to go home as soon as possible.

It being a Sunday, everyone was in their common rooms whining and gossiping except for two; Hermione Granger, who couldn't stand her housemates and Harry, who was in search of her.

Although Harry had his own private room near the teachers lounge, he made a point to be in the Gryffindor common room as often as possible and make a show of his presence. But today, he cited having to meet Dumbledore as an excuse and left. He was deeply interested in having a one on one with Hermione and today was a perfect opportunity.

There was only one place where she could be and Harry went straight to the Library.

"Excuse me, Madam Pince?"

The librarian leveled a narrowed gaze at him. "Yes?"

"Do you have an idea where I can find Hermione Granger?"

To Harry's surprise the librarian's eyes softened.

"The restricted section," she said. "You need to have permission to be there."

Bollocks, Harry cursed in his mind. "May I get permission ma'am?"

"Only House heads and the headmaster can give permission," she said coldly.

"But.."

"No."

"I really…"

"No."

"It's about the transfiguration assignm…"

"I said no."

Harry huffed and turned on his heel and marched out of the library feeling annoyed. The librarian was a bitch, he thought and made his way to the headmasters office. His meeting the headmaster wasn't going to be a lie after all.

When he reached Dumbledore's office, he found the headmaster playing with his phoenix wearing a blinding orange nightdress. They were playing find the galleon and it took some time before Dumbledore gave Harry a permission slip with no questions and a gentle smile.

Harry thanked him and returned to the library and shoved the slip in the librarian's face.

"Will this suffice?" he said with a mocking smile.

Pince looked at the letter from every angle, she tapped her wand on it and muttered under her breath for a whole minute before she raised her head and gave Harry a stiff nod.

Sighing in relief, Harry climbed on one of those awesome ladders and clearly said 'restricted section.'

The ride was longer this time and the ladder zipped into the depths of the library before coming to a halt in front of a dark and dreary section that had no windows and barely any light.

The ladder had stopped in front of a red line on the floor and beyond the line were five rows of black shelves that reminded Harry of black tar. The aura radiating from the books stacked on the shelfs were sinister and there was a strange smell that lingered in the air. It felt like death.

"Lumos," Harry muttered.

The section was quite intimidating and Harry walked very cautiously, wary of boggarts. This place certainly seemed like a haven for those vile creatures.

A five minute walk later, the end of the shelf came into sight to reveal a small study area with three tables. One of which was occupied by Hermione with a street lamp accompanying her and giving her light.

Harry took a second to observe her.

Even on a Sunday, she was in her school uniform. Her legs were crossed under a black knee length skirt that was perfectly ironed; her white shirt, neatly tucked in; short hair swept to one side with a clip to hold the longer strands in place; her back straight and eyes fixed on a thick tome that was thicker than her thin wrists.

Her school robe was hanging behind her chair and her lips were moving without making any sound. She was speed reading.

Harry moved closer and she heard his footsteps.

A face that might as well be cut from stone looked up and cold brown eyes looked at him with surprise and suspicion.

Then without saying a word, she looked back down to her book and continued to read.

Harry wanted to laugh. But he didn't. He was fascinated by her cold exterior because in her, he could see the person he could have become if left with the Dursley's and if he allowed the shit that happened to him as Tyson and Abdul to affect him as it had affected this brilliant girl.

Harry, not James, Tyson, Abdul or ministry Harry, felt a sort of connection with Hermione. He wanted to see if he could break through that wall and see the real Hermione. But Harry easily pushed aside those unnecessary emotions and relished the idea of having this girl as an asset.

He slid into the chair beside her and looked into her book. It was about the history of dark wizards and a smile grew on Harry's face. If what he thought was right, he was the trigger to her research.

Hermione stopped reading and stiffened when he sat next to her. She could hear him breathe and his presence was making her uncomfortable.

She turned towards him with fierce eyes. "Do you mind?" she said icily. "I'm trying to read. Is there something you want?"

"Yes, actually," Harry said, leaning back on the chair. He turned it a bit to face her and smiled. "Everyone whom I've asked, says you're the smartest witch in Hogwarts and I was hoping you could help me on this thing I'm studying."

"Not interested," she said and turned back to her book.

"You're not interested in magic that has never been heard of in Britain?"

Hermione took a deep calming breath. The guy next to her was annoying her and she didn't respond.

Harry had figured she would be like this. He had already prepared what to attract her attention with and he realized his wand hand with his fingers spread. He concentrated, drew upon his magic and blue energy began to crackle on his fingers, traveling from one tip to the other like electricity.

Hermione couldn't not avoid looking at the blue crackling light and her jaws dropped. She had never even heard of wizards or witches performing magic like this without a wand. Summoning without a wand was acceptable since it was known that it was a sign of a powerful person but this?! This was something else!

"How?!" She was trying to do her best to contain her awe and revert to her closed self but this kind of magic was unprecedented in her eyes. This magic was incredible and a hungry look came into her eyes.

Harry grinned and let the energy dissipate. "I knew that could get your attention," he said. "Now can we talk?"

Hermione went silent again. But her eyes had a spark that made Harry feel like a part of his mission had been accomplished.

"You're the only person in Hogwarts who doesn't give a damn about me and glorifies the death of my parents so thank you," Harry said to start with.

Hermione's eyes widened a bit. She hadn't thought of it like that. "No problem," she said finally. Her voice had lost some of its bite and a bit of normalcy had come into it. "What was that magic?"

"Magic from South America," Harry said. He couldn't mention the Amazon. "A friend taught it to me and I'm trying to do some research about other forms of magic that don't require the use of a wand. Can you help me?"

"Why do you need my help if you're as brilliant as people seem to think you are?"

Harry chuckled. "I'm not that brilliant and honestly, I wanted to get to know you," Harry said. "But you're a very difficult person to talk to and this was the only way I could think of to get your attention."

She pursed her lips. She so badly wanted to tell him to get the hell away from her and not to disturb her and stay away from her. She hated all human contact ever since her trauma. She hated opening up to anyone and letting herself become vulnerable. But this boy, Harry Potter, the hero to the magical world, had done nothing wrong to her and had only ever been nice and she didn't want to say no.

Suddenly the desire for human contact rose out of the depths she had hidden it away in and it hammered against the prison she had built around it. She allowed the doors to open an inch and sighed.

"What kind of research do you want to do?" she asked politely. Her attitude turned all business like.

Harry grinned. A teensy breakthrough had been made.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

17th October 1992

James Keller was nervous. Cromag Franklin had invited him… no, kidnapped him off the street and hauled him with a bag over his head straight to his office.

Jenny had promised him her father wouldn't care who she dated but here he was, sitting on a cold steel chair outside the office of an underworld boss.

James was sweating bullets. His eyes darted around the small waiting room and behind his eyes, Harry analyzed.

"He'll see you now," grunted Carl's dad.

James was marched from the tiny bare room with grilled windows and cement floor through the oak doors that had the words BOSS etched in gold,

The room was choked with smoke and the smell of ash lingered in the air. Wood fittings stood out and behind a large desk sat Cromag. Half the walls were adorned with posters of gangster movies like Scarface, The Untouchables, Chinatown and so on. Two large safes lay on the floor beside the desk and comfortable padded chairs were lined in two rows in front of the desk.

Cromag sat in the largest chair with a cigar dangling between his fingers, coating the carpet floor with ash. He was a tall man, built like a thug and hairy as a gorilla. A Rolex hung loose on his left wrist and gold rings adorned his fingers on the left.

My god, Harry thought in amusement, This guy defies the clichés of Dons.

On the outside James quivered.

A thick finger pointed to the chair directly in front of him and James was shoved in.

"S-sir," James stammered. "It's an honor to meet you."

"Are you the one dating my daughter?" he asked without preamble. His voice was rough, a sign of scarred lungs.

"We just went for a movie together sir," James said, his voice small. "We didn't even hold hands."

Cromag glanced at the two men behind James who nodded.

"My men tell me you grew up with their kids before moving to Australia. Tell me why?"

"Why I was friends or...?"

"Why you moved?" grunted Smith, who was Jake's dad.

"My father's business takes him all over the world sir."

"Art and magical artifact smuggler is he not?"

James gulped. "Y-yes."

"Let me lay it out in simple words, James. I don't like dirtbags dating my daughter. And I don't tell her what to do either. She's free to make her own choices but as a father I want to make sure you're not a moron who's after the one thing I don't want her doing until she's in college."

James kept his mouth shut. Jenny was hot, he hoped to tap that ass one day.

"What school do you go to?"

"Public sir."

"Not anymore. You're going to be joining my little girl in her private school because I can't have her dating classless idiots. She likes you for reasons beyond my understanding and because of that, you're also going to move to a flat of my choosing. Now I hear your father is not in town?"

James shrugged. A look of sadness coming over him. "He left six months ago and said he'll be back in a couple of days. Either he's dead or..."

Cromag chuckled. "If he comes back, I want to meet him to talk business; good smugglers are quite rare these days. On the other hand my gifts to you come with a price."

"Price sir?"

"My men tell me you're a good kid. You're top of your class in school and you're charming too, which I find hard to believe. If you want to date my daughter and get the perks that come along with it, then I expect you to work for me."

James went pale. "Doing what?"

"Errands," grunted Carl's dad. Jake and Carl, James best friends when he was growing up in the States were from families that were brought up for one purpose. Guarding the Franklin family till death came in their way and they were damn good at their jobs. Being werewolves helped quite a bit.

"If you accept, you leave in one piece. If you decline, you leave through the backdoor."

"I accept!" James said quickly.

"Good," Cromag said and grinned, putting on display a set of yellowed teeth. "My baby loves Jasmine’s, remember that the next time you take her out."

James opened his mouth but no sound came out. Did Cromag just give him advice?

"And remember," Cromag said. "Jen tells me everything that she does." Cromag's eyes flashed with the promise of torture if James did anything to hurt her.

James nodded warily.

"Good. Bag him and drop him off at his new place," Cromag commanded and James' sight went dark.

19th December 1994

Far away, years later, Harry woke up with a start. He couldn't remember what he was dreaming about. But he had it feeling it was James who was dreaming not him.

His sleep problems were acting up again.

Harry sat up straight and closed his eyes to practice the meditation techniques he had learned in India. They helped him catalog his mind easily and with magic it became easier.

The Ball was barely a week away and Harry was reaching a breaking point he hoped to avoid.

More than a month had passed by since his stay at Hogwarts and he was no closer to finding an answer to the mystery of his name popping out of the Goblet of Fire. He got nothing out of Bixlow, Snape only whined about the mark, Karkaroff was half out of his mind, Dumbledore was acting cracked ever since December began and his relationships with the few students he chose to befriend was leading nowhere except toward school gossip.

His irritation factor was at an all time high and the only form of amusement came from a castle that was filled with imaginative kids.

The first and second years got up to so much trouble that Harry couldn't believe it. Just a week ago, a few second year Muggleborn Gryffindors had attempted to create a laser shooting robot and they had successfully animated a suit of armor to go berserk in the castle. A week before that, some first years, obsessed with Star Wars tried to make a lightsaber and ended up blowing half of Hagrid's cabin.

Hogwarts was a madhouse and soon Harry found out that the lack of deaths was due to the founders foresight in ensuring that magic capable of killing the caster was absorbed by the wards. It was incredible magic and it gave Harry another excuse to keep Hermione Granger in his radar after they had finished researching wand-less magics in record time. Though he wouldn't admit it out loud, he enjoyed every minute he spent around her.

The girl was brilliant and he could see; if she shed away her wall of isolation, there was a gem that was waiting to be exploited. Harry wanted that gem for himself. As a DOI agent, he always looked far into the future and the benefits of having Granger on his side once she left Hogwarts were immense. But the wall she had around her was literally impenetrable, not to mention her attitude severely put him off sometimes. But he persisted and slowly, bit by bit, their interactions became easier and maybe even a tad friendly even.

His classes were 2 parts interesting and 8 parts boring. His presence still thrilled all those around him and his club meetings with Daphne were a few highlights of his otherwise mind numbing stay at Hogwarts. Hermione Granger was the other thing that made him tolerate his stay.

Susan and Daphne on the other hand were easy. He just had to smile, agree, argue and stand tall. They were all over him in a week. Luna Lovegood on the other hand just shook her head pityingly when she was there. Harry couldn't fathom why this girl of all people saw through everything that he did. He did his best to avoid her, like the rest of the student population. The thirteen year old was frightfully intuitive and Harry had no doubt her dream to become a journalist would reap rewards for her.

He played Quidditch with every house, became good friends with a few from every house, Draco Malfoy included, and sat at a different table everyday.

Between manipulating Daphne, Susan and inserting himself into the popular kids of school and taking Fleur out to Hogsmeade and sneaking around the school at night, Harry had his plate filled to the brim.

He had even figured out how Dumbledore was spying on him. It was the damn portraits. Wherever there was a portrait of a past headmaster or headmistress of the school, oily eyes followed his every move and disappeared from their frames when he said something random. That was two weeks ago and since then Harry was feeding them bogus information. One time he spoke out loud about a mission to the moon to retrieve precious metals to build a metallic army whose plan was to take over the ministry and destroy democracy. It was after a day he spent with Luna in his orbit and he had been feeling oddly creative.

Of course that blew the game apart and Dumbledore realized that Harry knew. In hindsight, Harry realized that had been a stupid thing to do but Hogwarts was taking a toll on his intellect. He was feeling dumber with the amount of boredom that was weighing down on him. He wanted action, he wanted to feel something real, he needed to feel alive and being under the protection of Hogwarts was making him feel chained.

He couldn't wait for Christmas to come so that he could leave Hogwarts and go do something exciting. Some that aroused his heart from its otherwise deadened state.

The day passed by in a blur.

He attended classes, had a club meet in the afternoon, restrained the laughter that bubbled in him during potions and finally, at sunset, he was sitting on the edge of the Astronomy tower railing precariously, smoking his favorite thing in the world.

He sucked in deep, held the smoke in, felt his entire body relax and then he exhaled.

A while later, he felt the wards he had placed at the bottom of the tower signal him and he smiled. She was right on time.

It was eight and Hermione didn't understand why Harry wanted to meet at the tower instead of the library like usual.

Her eyes went wide when she reached the top and saw what he was doing.

"Are you smoking weed?!" she gasped in shock.

"Yup," Harry drawled lazily. He was feeling like the man behind all his personalities was coming forth.

"Get off the railing!" she hissed. "You could fall and die!"

Harry rolled his eyes but complied. He drew his wand and with dramatic wrist movements and a flourish, he conjured two armchairs. "Come sit. Relax," he said grinning.

"You're stoned," Hermione said, her voice dripping with disapproval. "What if someone came up here and saw Harry Potter smoking? I thought you were a model of good behavior and discipline?!"

"Ah, Hermione," Harry said, clicking his tongue. "People are more than what they seem. Now will you come and sit. The stars are coming out."

Hermione, against her better judgment, came forward and sat and then blinked in surprise. "The chair has a warming charm on it!"

"Yup."

"But you just conjured it," she exclaimed. "When did you put the warming charm?"

Harry was feeling playful.

"Magic," he said with a grin, "Think of it like physics. You study Newton's laws in school and can choose to major in it in university and dwell deep, as far as string theory, if you have the brains."

"Is that like your favorite line or something? It's the fifth time this week you've said it to me," Hermione complained. "Did you create the spell yourself?"

"I like saying it because it reminds me how awesome magic is," Harry said with a lazy sigh that was accompanied by rings of smoke blown in Hermione's direction.

Hermione batted the smoke away irritably and scowled. "I'm leaving if you're going to be an arse."

"No, no, don't go. Yes, I did create the spell," Harry said quickly. "It's called linking and condensing."

"What?"

"You find spells that have similar wand movements and then you find a way to interlink those movements and remove the unnecessary ones to create a single spell with two outcomes."

"Is that what you're going to teach me next?" Hermione asked excitedly. Over time, she became more comfortable around Harry and her attitude towards him changed for the better every time he taught her something she didn't know before.

"Today I just want to look at the stars," Harry said with an air of melancholy.

Hermione frowned. "Are you alright?" she asked, slightly concerned.

"Just thinking about the times I went camping," Harry lied. In truth, he was remembering the times he and his friends looked at the stars, high on pixie dust, from the depths of the Devil's Cauldron.

Tyson's friends, he corrected himself.

"I've gone on a few camping trips with my family in Spain," Hermione said, reminiscing her good times with her family. "It's where I discovered a love for barbecue. It's really a shame Hogwarts doesn't have any."

"You could organize one and call a few people," Harry suggested.

Hermione snorted. "As if I'd want anything to do with those immature, nasty little turds."

Harry laughed and took another drag. The taste came harsh and Harry coughed. The joint was burnt out. He cleared his throat, tossed the spent joint and pulled another from his pocket.

"This one is hashish from India," Harry informed Hermione, his eyes red and mind stoned. "You want a drag?"

"Of course not!" Hermione gasped.

Harry got up from the chair he had conjured and leaned on the balcony railing. "Come on, Hermione. I'm sure you'll like it. All those stressful voices in your head will cease to exist for a while. It's the best feeling ever."

"NO!"

"Please?"

"I said no Harry! Stop forcing me!"

"Oh well. I guess you're not interested in experiencing the feeling for real instead of reading about it in books."

Hermione growled. He had her and with a huff she got up and joined him. "Fine! Just a drag though."

Harry grinned broadly, delighted that she had agreed.

"How do I smoke this thing?"

"Just put it in your mouth and suck lightly. When you feel the smoke inhale sharply through your teeth and then wait a moment before exhaling," Harry informed her. He then demonstrated before handing the joint over.

Hermione felt a thrill of excitement run down her spine. Harry made her do things she never would have even considered doing and that made her happy.

Harry watched with wide eyes as Hermione put the joint between her pouty lips and pulled awkwardly before inhaling sharply with a hissing sound. She closed her eyes and a second later exhaled the smoke without coughing or choking.

"Perfect!"

"That wasn't so bad," Hermione said with an uncharacteristic grin. She felt silly and free. She didn't feel the burden she felt every second of her life in Hogwarts.

"Take another drag," Harry urged and Hermione did.

By the time the joint was exhausted Harry and Hermione couldn't stop giggling. Everything was suddenly funny and the darkness of the night felt as bright as day.

Hermione wasn't sure how it happened but one moment their eyes locked and she felt a strange emotion in her gut. She was suddenly thinking about his beautiful eyes, his high cheek bones and muscular arm. Her heart began to hammer and she stared at Harry unblinking.

Harry knew what he wanted to do. He could see she wanted him to do it but the little part of his rational mind was urging him against it. She was to be an asset. Fleur was his girlfriend and cheating was a bad idea. Hermione was a target and nothing more. His mind was telling him what a bad idea this was.

For the first time in years, Harry chose to listen to his heart.

Hermione saw his lips move towards her and she magnetically moved towards his and then they met. The rush of bliss it invoked in her was similar to the rush of her first punch but this was slower. She felt her blood pump faster and body heat up when his tongue brushed against hers. She felt the heat harden her nipples and when his hands brushed against them the friction triggered a moan out of her.

Liquid fire was pooling in her abdomen, her breath was coming faster and her heart nearly skipped a beat when his hands curled around her waist and slid up her back, over her shirt, making her skin burn with goosebumps and forbidden cravings began to overcome her mind.

Then she came to her senses. She suddenly placed her hands on his chest and roughly pushed him away making him gasp in surprise. Her heart was still racing, her breath was labored and her eyes full of rage.

"How dare you," she said, her voice trembling.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, feeling out of breath himself. He hadn't planned on doing that. He had no idea what came over him and was feeling very light headed.

"You... you... Did you even ask? Did I permit you?" Memories of her nightmares were returning in full force.

She drew her wand. She ignored the part of her that said she wanted it just as much as he did and clung on to the feeling of violation.

Harry perceived a threat and closed the distance between them before she could complete any wand movements, caught hold of her wand and shoved her back with his shoulder to disarm her.

Hermione gasped and stumbled back.

"Calm down Hermione," Harry said warily. "I swear I don't know what came over me."

"Give me back my wand," she said threateningly.

"No. Listen fir..."

"Give my wand back now!" she screamed.

"Calm the fuck down!"

Jaws clenched, back stiff, eyes smoldering; Hermione glared at Harry.

"I like you," Harry admitted. "Everything about you fascinates me. I... I find you incredibly attractive and you're an enigma at the same time. Every time I look at you I feel like kissing you and today, I guess, I kinda lost control so I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"What a load of crap," Hermione snorted. Her insecurities were rearing their ugly heads. "You don't like me at all! You're just fascinated by me and that's all. Your fascination is fixed on how could a delicate thing like me do what she did to those fucking Slytherins and you've obviously read the full report filed with the Aurors. I have brains, I don't give a shit about anyone else and I have absolutely no interest in your great status. That's all that you find-" Here Hermione raised her hands mockingly to quote "-attractive about me! And even if you did what the fuck about that French bitch you're dating huh? Last I saw, you two were cuddling in the three broomsticks or secretly exchanging kisses while pretending no one was looking. You're going to the Yule Ball with her and you act all lovey dovey with her. After all that you're saying you like me? You're interested in me? I'm attractive? Go fuck yourself and give me back my wand!"

Harry stood still while he was blasted by the ranting Hermione.

God she's beautiful, he said in his mind.

She certainly has issues, Tyson agreed. Angry sex would be great!

She's only fifteen and she's gone through a lot, muttered Abdul. You should treat her with more respect and stop manipulating her. She's not an idiot that's for sure.

Harry realized his talking closet was right. He was manipulating her. He was trying to make her fall for him but along the way he, and he meant Harry, not Harry Potter or any of the other personalities he carried around, had in fact, started liking her, developing feelings for her, wanting to kiss her, not to manipulate, but to actually feel.

Harry was getting confused. It was something he had never experienced before. He had never even liked a girl before. All his relationships were part of the job and involved fake feelings but now, he was feeling the real thing and it was making his mind spin.

"Fuck you too," Harry spat resorting to defence. "Here I am trying to help you, trying to get you to come out of that shell you're hiding in, doing my best to befriend you and now you're throwing it all back in my face?! I like you and I kissed you with no fucking agenda! Yea, I wouldn't have done it if I wasn't stoned but who fucking cares?! You're fucking beautiful and you make me want to snog your brains out! So quit thinking like the trauma you underwent is what defines you when it's not!"

Hermione calmed down but the intensity of her glare never changed. She took a step forward and then another until she was an inch away from his nose.

"So you like me and you're dating Fleur? Way to make a girl feel wanted you fucking liar," she spat.

Harry restrained the urge to strike her.

"Dating Fleur is like a job," he said tightly. "She's a nice girl who's been brought up with good values and romantic dreams with a father who literally runs the Ministry of France."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise and revulsion. "You're...?"

"Yes," Harry said shortly. He put her wand back into her hand. Hermione glanced at it, closed her fingers around it and pointed it at him.

"You're a scumbag."

"It comes with the job of being an Auror," Harry said drily. "There are things I'd rather not do but I have to. Then there are things I want to do but can't. You're one of them." Harry's mind was in turmoil. He was still lying to her and not lying at the same time. His emotions were getting the better of him and he knew what a huge mistake he was making.

Hermione's anger dissipated into something else. She couldn't look away from his eyes. Her heart began to pound again and butterflies were fluttering in her gut. She still hated him, but she suddenly developed the urge to kiss him.

Harry brought down his head and placed his lips on hers again.

This time she didn't push him away.

By the time she stumbled back into her dorm, it was after midnight. Her shirt was rumpled, her lips swollen and neck peppered with love bites. Her roommates, who were awake, gossiping about dresses and boys, stared at her in shock, unable to process what their eyes were seeing.

But before they could bombard her with questions Hermione had collapsed on her bed, drawn her curtains tight and activated the nasty curses she had around her bed. She was mentally, emotionally and physically too exhausted to deal with any crap.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

25th December

To say eyes were glued to a single couple would be an understatement.

Harry, wearing a tuxedo that James Bond would be proud of, his air was neatly swiped back and his scar was on full display to be ogled at, swept his green eyes across the hall, holding a few seconds of eye contact with certain people and Fleur, elegantly dressed in a silver gown with a high collar studded with diamonds, the dress hugging her curves and flaring open after her knees, wearing similar high heels which glittered in the brightly lit hall, hair done up with curls and twirls that were bunched together allowing all to admire her long neck, mesmerizing the crowd with a small smile playing on her full lips.

Together, they were a powerful and incredibly attractive pair and dancing in the center of the stage with synchronized moments only made their appeal rise.

"Iz zere anyone ere not looking at uz?" Fleur whispered in his ear, her arms around his neck and his around her waist as they swayed to the slow ballroom symphonies.

"A few," Harry whispered back. "But I think they're gay," he added.

Fleur giggled.

"How's your dad?" Harry asked. His hands slowly slid down her waist and rested on the curve of her behind.

"You're azking me zat while groping my derrière? How bold," laughed Fleur softly.

"It was calling out to me," Harry murmured lightly.

"He's in Bolivia," Fleur said, rolling her eyes. "There iz business with the local government there. Something about gold." Fleur sighed. "I swear daddy does the strangest zings sometimes."

"Do you mind if we interrupt?" A bold and heavy voice startled them.

It was Krum and Hermione.

"Yes?" Harry asked, slightly annoyed. He was sure Agent Charles would have loved to know Delacour was in Bolivia and knowing what he was doing there would have been better.

"The Prophet wants to take our pictures," Hermione said. Harry noticed a slight jealous tone in her voice. Or was it anger? He wasn't sure but he knew she definitely didn't like the way his hands were cupping Fleur's arse as they danced.

He quickly removed his hands, surprising himself. He usually wouldn't have cared but Hermione's disapproval made him.

This is not good.

The four of them joined Cedric and Cho Chang and on their way Harry kept checking out Hermione. She definitely looked amazing in her pink and red dress that had rings of frills rolling down her waist all the way to her heels. His eyes kept moving towards her cleavage and white neck and thoughts of kissing them raw kept rising in his mind. Even though he was, non-debatably, with the most beautiful woman in the Ball his thoughts only had Hermione in them.

Fleur didn't notice but Hermione did. It elevated her confidence and an extra sway was added to her hips as she moved ahead of Harry feeling a little embarrassed at her actions.

Harry groaned internally.

This is definitely not good. Inevitably the time to abandon her would come and she would hate him for that. Why the hell did I kiss her?! He hated himself for ever considering Hermione as a potential target. She didn't deserve him.

The podium with the band was cleared out and the champions and their dates were ushered onto the platform. Rita Skeeter and her photographer took position in front and Harry noticed Skeeter whispering in the photographer's ear. A familiar feeling of suspicion and caution clouded his mind and suddenly Harry was on his guard.

Something was going to happen. His eyes roved around, taking in everyone who was around. He saw Dumbledore, Crouch, Maxime and Karkaroff coming to join them on the podium. He saw the teachers standing a few feet behind Skeeter and her man, with beaming smiles on their faces. He saw the entire student population eying the champions with fascination and jealousy. Many guests were still dancing to no music, alcohol being their song. He noticed a couple of students discreetly sneaking out of the castle to find an unoccupied bush to get busy.

He could see no danger but the feeling was extreme.

Something was going to happen.

Skeeter had finished giving her instructions to the photographer and he replied with a simple yes ma'am before going under the sheet to take the picture of the champions alone first.

Harry's eyes widened. He recognised that voice! It was the man in the ministry and Harry didn't miss that sinister smile he sported before going under. His hand went for his wand but he was frozen in place. Someone had petrified him without him even sensing the magic! His eyes desperately tried to locate the traitor and his magic tried to break free but it wasn't working. There was only one spell capable of freezing him like this and Hugo was the only one who knew it.

His eyes froze when he spotted Professor Bixlow. His wand was out and his face was tense.

The camera flashed and Harry felt something hit him in the gut before his world dissolved into a vortex of colors.

It was a portkey, the camera was a spring and a portkey had been aimed at him. Harry had disappeared from Hogwarts and he never saw the cameraman throw the cloth aside with a wild look of triumph on his face.

"The dark lord shall rise again!" he screamed manically. "And those who oppose him shall die!"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

A/N: This is not a Harry/Hermione story.

Till next time!