What Are You Doing Here? by Marathon Zack 140.6
Books » Harry Potter Rated: T, English, Romance & Adventure, [Harry P., Hermione G.], Words: 107k+, Favs: 2k+, Follows: 2k+, Published: Dec 1, 2020 Updated: Apr 9, 2021
What if Harry had insisted Hermione stay in the tent with him before the 1st Task? Starts from GoF movie scene where Dumbledore notices Hermione in the tent before 1st Task - after that book based. H/Hr friendship into relationship - strong Harmony throughout. Majorly Expanded version of my similar title previous story. Ron/Molly bashing. Ch 1-24 4th year, 25-42 Summer before 5th
Chapter 1
A/N: Expanded from its former masterpiece of 10k words and one chapter to 60k words and 24 chapters. I've left the original story up, since this one is different enough that they're essentially two separate stories now. But if much of this seems familiar, it's because it is — but it's not plagiarism if it's my own story, right? ;)
Harry James Potter was nervously pacing back and forth across the far end of the Champions tent.
It was mere minutes before the first task of the famed TriWizard Tournament was supposed to start, but he was anything but eager to get it underway. The three champions were similarly nervous, but Harry had barely even noticed this when he'd walked in due to his own nervous state, and certainly wasn't paying them any attention now, nor were they paying him any attention, or each other any attention, all four of them lost in their own worlds.
But as Harry paced across the long side of the tent, he noticed a slight shadow fall across the side of the tent, and the fabric ripple slightly. Moving towards it, he heard a distinctly feminine "Psst", so he moved right next to the fabric separating the competitors from the outside world, to see what the only person who would think to come visit him before his rapidly approaching demise wanted.
"Psst," came the voice again, quiet enough that the other three champions hadn't seemed to have noticed it, before it whispered, "Harry? Is that you?"
"Yeah," replied Harry in an equal whisper.
"How are you feeling? Okay?" came the voice of his best (and since his name had come out of the goblet, seemingly only) friend. When he didn't say anything, after a second she continued on, "The key is to concentrate. After that you just have to —"
"Battle a dragon," Harry finished for her.
There was a pregnant pause, before Harry suddenly found himself being engulfed in a mighty hug, as Hermione burst through the opening in the tent wall and launched herself onto to him. Staggering a step backwards to keep his balance, Harry wrapped his arms around her tightly, returning her hug gratefully.
Hermione had been the only one to believe him when he said he hadn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire, for which he knew he would be forever grateful. And beyond just believing him when no one else would, she'd also helped him perfect Accio, the Summoning Charm, once he'd told her about needing to summon his Firebolt for the first task against the dragon.
But suddenly, their bubble was rudely burst by the flash of a camera lightbulb.
"Young love," cooed Rita, strutting into the tent. "Oh, how—" Here she pause for a second, clearly contemplating the best word to describe the situation.
"Stirring," she finished with great finality, before continuing, "If everything goes unfortunately today, you two may even make the front page."
Hermione had a nasty suspicion that "unfortunately" to Rita would mean that none of the champions or Harry had sustained a nasty injured in the upcoming task, but before she could do anything more than glare at the 'journalist', Krum spoke up for the first time since Harry had entered the tent.
"You have no business here. This tent is for champions. And friends."
Rita looked mildly offended that no one considered her a friend, but she covered it well, and answered, "Well. No matter. We've got what we wanted," before swaying back towards the door of the tent.
But before she'd made it all the way to the door, the judges and Filch entered the tent from behind where Harry and Hermione were standing, drawing everyone's attention away from her, so she slipped into the corner to watch.
"Good day, Champions. Gather round, please," boomed out Dumbledore's voice as he entered. The three champions quickly hurried over to where the adults were, as Harry and Hermione shifted to the side slightly so Dumbledore could have center stage. Harry and Hermione's hands instinctively found their way into each other, and Hermione's other hand grasped his arm protectively.
"Now you've waited. You've wondered. At last the moment has arrived. The moment only four of you can fully appreciate."
Dumbledore looked around at the four students, and with a double take, realized that there were in fact actually five students standing around him, not four. So taking another look to see who the extra student was, he quickly recognized her as being none other than Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of their generation.
"What are you doing here, Miss Granger?" the Headmaster asked in a puzzled tone, clearly confused at her presence, looking around to see if anyone else knew why she was there. As no one seemed to, he looked back around at the young witch.
"Oh, sorry…" Hermione stuttered, before Harry squeezed her hand a little bit tighter and said, "She's here with me, Professor. She wanted to wish me 'Good luck'."
"Oh," replied Dumbledore, still looking flummoxed. But when it became clear after a few seconds that Miss Granger wasn't leaving, he continued on, turning to Mr Crouch. "Barty. The bag."
Holding out a bag that looked like it was smoking slightly, Mr Crouch gestured to all of the champions. "Champions, in a circle around me. Miss Delacour over here. Mr Krum. Potter and — you" — here he looked at Hermione, clearly not having paid the slightest bit of attention to what Dumbledore had just called her — "over here." Having shuffled everyone around to where he wanted them, he continued, "Right. Miss Delacour, if you will…"
Soon all four competitors had selected their dragon, Mr Crouch had explained the objective of the task, and the adults had left the tent to return to the stands, leaving the competitors (and friend) alone once more. As Cedric headed out of the tent first to face his dragon, Harry and Hermione drifted back into the furthest corner of the tent, while the remaining two champions returned to their own corners, resuming mentally preparing themselves for the monstrous task they would soon be faced with.
"Thanks for coming," said Harry quietly as soon as everyone but the remaining two champions had left the tent.
"Of course, Harry!" replied Hermione distraughtly, still grasping Harry's arm tightly. "This is completely mad, having students face dragons! And without any of you having a clue, if they'd had their way!"
Harry agreed with her completely, but didn't say anything out loud, too afraid that if he tried to actually say anything, he might be sick. Hermione completely understood though, barely keeping it together herself. One by one the remaining two champions left the tent to face their dragons when their names were called out, eventually leaving Harry and Hermione all alone in the tent, counting down the minutes until the inevitable. The entire time, Hermione kept a tight grasp on Harry's hand and arm, neither of them saying anything to each other, both lost in their own thoughts.
Finally, however, Dumbledore called for Harry to enter the enclosure to face the Hungarian Horntail, and Hermione had to let him go.
Turning towards her, Harry held out his hand that wasn't still being grasped by hers, the miniature dragon sitting in the middle of it, and said with more confidence than he actually felt at the moment, "Here — hold onto this for me until I get back."
Hermione nodded silently, trying to fight back her tears, and finally let go of his hand to hold it out to let the miniature dragon flutter from his hand to hers.
"See you soon," said Harry in what he hoped was a reassuring tone, before turning and heading towards the door of the tent that led to the enclosure.
Hermione turned and ran towards the stands, wiping the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand as she hurried to join the rest of the Gryffindors in watching Harry face his dragon.
"Where have you been?" demanded Ron irritably as Hermione appeared next to him, right as Harry stepped into the enclosure.
"Being there for my friend," replied Hermione shortly, stuffing the miniature dragon out of sight in her robes.
Then she deliberately turned towards the enclosure, resolutely ignoring the redhead.
~HP~
Several nerve-wracking minutes later, Harry stood outside the enclosure, golden egg raised in one hand, Firebolt in the other.
As Professor McGonagall and some of the other professors hurried towards him from one side, a bushy mane of brown hair came flying at him from the other. Not seeing her coming, this time he was knocked down when she launched herself onto him, squealing acclamations in such a high-pitched voice that he couldn't make out what she was trying to say, although he thought he caught the words "Harry" and "remarkable" repeated multiple times.
But he did hear Professor McGonagall's slightly less stern than normal voice say, "That was brilliant, Potter," so he pushed the bushy hair obscuring his vision out of the way to see the Transfiguration teacher and their Head of House standing over him, looking down at the two of them. Surprisingly, she seemed more amused by the fact Hermione was laying on top of him hugging him, than disapproving.
"You'll need to get that scratch checked out by Madam Pomfrey right away," she added, pointing at the scrape on his shoulder that he'd sustained from the dragon's tail.
"Yes, Professor," he replied, trying to nudge Hermione up and off of him so that he could stand.
Getting the message, and having heard Professor McGonagall tell Harry he needed to go to the medical tent, Hermione quickly scrambled up, before holding out her hand to help Harry stand up after her. Once Harry was standing next to her, and she'd quickly given his shoulder a once-over to make sure he wasn't seriously hurt, she looked around her for the first time since she'd tackled him, and noticed all the professors standing around them watching them. She ducked her head and blushed, before practically dragging Harry off to the medical tent so they wouldn't be in the limelight any longer.
Once inside the medial tent, Harry was quickly pounced on by Madam Pomfrey, who was muttering up a storm about dementors, dragons, and the deranged devils who thought it was a good idea to keep bringing such dangerous creatures onto the school grounds (though not in those exact words). Looking rather pleased that Harry's scrape was no more than that, a scrape, she quickly cleaned the wound with a purple potion, before poking his shoulder with her wand and making him right as rain.
Sticking her wand back in her robes and grabbing up her bottle of purple goo, she said, "Now, just sit quietly for a minute — sit! And then you can go and get your score." But as she walked over to the next cubicle to check on Cedric again, they heard her mutter to herself, "Not that anyone's actually been listening to me, and I doubt you will either!"
But as Harry looked down at where Hermione was standing next to the bench he was sitting on, to see if she was okay with him going ahead and going back out to learn his score, he found himself engulfed in yet another hug, this one just as tight as the first two she'd given him so far that day.
"It's okay, Hermione — I'm safe and alive," he muttered into her hair as he hugged her back with one arm.
After a few seconds, Hermione let go of him and leaned back slightly to look up at him, her eyes shining brightly with a mixture of unshed tears and pride. And before he could even open his mouth to ask if he had her permission to leave the tent yet, she said sternly, "No, Mr Potter — you are not leaving this tent until Madam Pomfrey gives you the okay. I don't care that you're obviously perfectly fine, and anyways, they aren't going to give out your scores before you get there."
Harry gave a token disgruntled sigh, before smiling softly. "Thank you again — for everything," he said quietly. "The Summoning Charm, coming to the tent and being there for me, being with me now, and just generally being here for me the entire time since my name came out of the goblet."
"Always, Harry," replied Hermione softly, leaning her head gently against his newly healed shoulder.
A few minutes later Madam Pomfrey returned, looking rather surprised that her patient was still there, and hadn't left against her express wishes like the other three had at least once apiece since they'd respectively finished their tasks and been sent to her for healing. A quick look at Harry's shoulder and she told him he was good to go, mouthing a quick 'Thank you' to Hermione behind Harry's back as he started walking out. Hermione gave the older woman a quick nod and smirk before running to catch up with Harry, walking out of the tent by his side.
As they exited the tent, Hermione spotted Ron lurking off to the side, looking highly disgruntled at all of the people congratulating Harry as he walked over to the edge of the enclosure to receive his scores, and seeming to glare specifically at her as soon as he saw her. She assumed this had to do with her leaving him to go be with Harry before the task, pointedly ignoring him the entire time Harry was trying to get past his dragon, and running to enthusiastically congratulate Harry once he'd safely finished the task, as well as for simply believing Harry when he said he didn't enter himself in the tournament, something the redhead clearly still did not believe. But she mentioned none of this to Harry, instead just standing faithfully by his side as he watched his scores slowly be revealed by the five judges.
Once they'd all been revealed and he'd tied for first place with Krum, three-quarters of the Hogwarts stands erupted in jubilation. Slytherin, of course, did no such thing, but as he found out from Neville later, the only competitor they had cheered for at all was the Durmstrang champion, Viktor Krum, so it wasn't just him they'd refused to act like civilized human beings for. Not that Harry cared either way, as Slytherin was Slytherin, while he was tied for first place in the world-famous TriWizard Tournament he was three years too young to compete in.
The scores of all four competitors finally having been given, Bagman called them all back into the tent to give them a few quick words about the upcoming second task, and what they needed to know to prepare for it. By the time he let them go, the stands had completely emptied and were waiting eagerly for the champions (and Harry) to return, bursting into a hearty round of applause as soon as the four of them (plus Hermione, who'd resolutely stayed by Harry's side the whole time) exited the tent, free at last. Everyone crowded around them, congratulating them, patting them on the back, and with Harry telling him that they'd always believed in him and that he was going to win the tournament for sure. In the midst of the celebrations, Cedric edged his way over to Harry to offer him his own congratulations that he hadn't had the chance to while listening to Bagman talk about the second task.
"That was an impressive bit of flying, Harry. I got Madam Pomfrey to let me watch from the medical tent," he said as he shook Harry's hand, before adding quietly, "And thanks, you know, about the dragons and everything."
Harry nodded, saying, "Of course. And I heard you did pretty well yourself."
Eventually Harry and Hermione waded their way through the crowds and up to the seventh floor corridor outside the Gryffindor common room, eager to relax for a while before heading down to supper once the crowds had hopefully thinned slightly. But as they stepped their way through the portrait hole, Ron brushed by them brusquely in the opposite direction heading towards the Great Hall in search of food, saying loudly, "I'm glad I didn't enter the tournament," as he knocked into Harry's shoulder. "I wouldn't want to be facing dragons, even if it was for eternal glory."
And with that he was out the portrait hole and gone.
"Does he really still think I would have entered myself to face dragons?" asked Harry in disbelief as he and Hermione collapsed onto the couch in front of the fireplace several seconds later.
"But you didn't know there were dragons when entrance was open, Harry," explained Hermione patiently, rubbing his arm soothingly. "Both of you wanted to be in the tournament back when you didn't know what any of the tasks were — same as half the school that was too young to enter did. And just like all of them, both of you would have entered had it been allowed. So just because he's realized now that he's actually seen the first task that he really doesn't want to be in this tournament, that isn't going to change his belief on whether you entered yourself or not. And to be perfectly honest, whatever he may say, if he had the chance to enter right now, I still think he would — just for the attention, and if he could, a chance at all the money the winner will get."
"But what about the rest of the school? They don't still think I entered myself! So why would he!?" exclaimed Harry, still not understanding his first friend's thought process.
"I'm not so sure that's really true, though, Harry," answered Hermione gently. "The difference is, after watching you defeat a dragon, the rest of the school just no longer cares whether you entered yourself or not. If we're being honest, I think most of them actually do still believe that you entered your own name, but you did such a good job that they're willing to support you now even though you did enter yourself." At Harry's glare she hurriedly added with an eyeroll, "Which I know you didn't really of course."
Harry sank back into the cushions of the couch, both physically and mentally exhausted from all the stress leading up to the first task, and his flight with the dragon during it — he made a quick mental note to never go flying with a dragon again.
Mistaking his sigh of exhaustion for one of anxiousness about his former best friend, Hermione said cautiously, "Give Ron time, but as long as he still believes that you entered your own name, and you keep getting all the attention — which I know you don't want — I don't know how you two are going to become friends again."
Harry nodded, knowing what she said to be true, but he found himself less worried about it than he thought he would be. He realized that the only person he really needed was already right by his side, both figuratively and literally at the moment, and always had been. Even during their minor squabble at Christmas the year before over the source of one of his gifts, she had been more by his side than even he himself had been.
But Harry was suddenly broken out of these thoughts by Hermione exclaiming, "Oh — I nearly forgot!"
She quickly rummaged through her robes for a second, before pulling out the miniature Hungarian Horntail he'd given her in the Champions Tent for safe keeping.
"I believe this is yours."
Chapter 2
Later that evening, Harry and Hermione climbed the long circular staircase to the top of the Owlery Tower.
After she had returned Harry's pet miniature Hungarian Horntail to him, Hermione had pulled a piece of parchment and a self-inking quill out from inside her robes, to write Sirius a letter to let him know that Harry had safely made it through the first task, along with everything else that had happened regarding the tournament. When Harry had seen what she was doing, he had wanted to wait until at least after supper to write it, but Hermione had insisted they do it then. She promised that she would write the whole thing herself, and all he had to do was help her on any details she didn't already know and throw in any extra bits he wanted her to include that she hadn't thought of already, and then sign his name at the end next to hers so Sirius would know it really was from him as well — and she would do everything else.
She really wanted the letter to reach Sirius before Rita could publish any article of lies, deceit, and misinformation in the Daily Prophet, and Sirius find out what had happened in the tournament that way first when he indubitably nicked a copy to read. And she knew if they didn't write it until that night that they wouldn't get it sent off until the morning, which might be too late depending on when Rita's story came out.
And true to her word, Hermione had written the entire thing herself, reading it out loud as she had written it so Harry could hear everything she was writing, while Harry had remained an exhausted heap next to her, doing his best impersonation of a couch cushion. He had wanted to give a blow-by-blow account of exactly how he had swerved, circled, and dodged the Horntail, but Hermione had vetoed that, keeping the letter on task with more important things like how Mad-Eye had been the one to suggest the Summoning Charm and Firebolt that Harry had used for the task, exactly what it was they'd had to do in the first task as all Harry had been able to tell Sirius before was that it was going to involve dragons, that the golden egg he'd had to steal was somehow crucial to the second task, and that they hadn't seen anyone looking particularly suspicious around the task, like they might have been the one to enter Harry and were watching to see if he was fatally wounded, be it Karkaroff or anyone else. Once she had finished, and reread the letter out loud for both herself and Harry to make sure it sounded good, she sealed it up and stuck it back in her robes with the quill, before dragging Harry up off the couch so they could head down to the Great Hall for supper, now that it had been long enough for the crowds to have had time to thin out some from the onslaught immediately after the first task finished.
But they had since finished eating, and were now climbing up to the owlery to send the letter off. Arriving at the very top, Hermione selected one of the school owls so as not to continuously be sending Hedwig to the same location should anyone be watching, and tied the letter to its leg. Then she carried it to the window, where it took off into the dark sky to find the elusive fugitive.
Harry and Hermione stared out the window at the stars for a while enjoying the beautiful late-November evening, before Hermione finally said, "I heard the twins mention something about a surprise party for you in the common room for completing the first task so magnificently. We should probably head back down there, and not keep them waiting."
"For completing it so magnificently, or for not dying and making it too awkward to have a party?" smirked Harry as he pushed himself off the wall and towards the stairs.
"To-may-to, to-mah-to," Hermione smirked back as she followed him. "But who are we to deny them the opportunity to celebrate?"
~HP~
When they stepped through the portrait hole ten minutes later, the Gryffindor common room erupted in the same explosion the entire stands had when Harry had successfully robbed the nesting mother dragon of her adopted egg earlier that afternoon.
Everyone crowded around Harry to congratulate him yet again on his performance, but eventually he was able to make his way back to Hermione as everyone moved on to enjoying the mountains of food and drinks the twins had provided. Despite having just had supper not long before, Harry and Hermione filled up plates with all the desserts and snacks the twins had provided, and enjoyed themselves as they watched everyone celebrate Harry's success.
After a while, the twins circled around to Harry and Hermione and asked, "So where's the egg, and what's the clue inside you have to work out for the second task?"
Hermione had no idea how they knew that there was a clue for the second task inside the egg, as only the champions, Harry, and she herself had been told that by Bagman in the tent after the first task was over, but somehow they clearly did. Harry reached under the couch he and Hermione had settled on, the same one they'd collapsed on after returning from the first task, and pulled the egg out from under it where he'd stowed it for safe keeping when they'd headed down to supper.
Everyone in the room turned to look at them, and Lee Jordan said, "Open it, Harry, go on! Let's just see what's inside it!"
As several more people in the room echoed, "Yeah, go on, Harry, open it!", Harry glanced over at Hermione, who nodded back. After all, while the rules Mr. Crouch had given them at the beginning of the tournament hadn't said they couldn't ask other students for help, only that they couldn't ask for or accept help from teachers, it had kind of been implied. But if Hermione thought it was okay, he was okay with it too. So at her permission, he prised open the egg.
The most horrible wail Harry had ever heard came out, and he slammed it back shut.
But to his great disappointment, in the echoing silence that followed, nobody was able to give him any clue as to what on earth that sound might be. Many theories, ranging from reasonable to completely outlandish, were tossed about, but none of them seemed like the actual answer to the second task, and so Harry was left with even more questions than he'd had before he'd opened the egg to find out the clue. Speculating on the egg could only hold everyone's attention for so long, though, and soon everyone began milling around again just enjoying the party and company.
After a while, one of Hermione's curiosities from the past three years got the best of her, and she approached the twins.
"So how do you get all this food?" she asked curiously. "You throw parties all the time, and practically have more food than the Great Hall, but where does it all come from?"
"The food and normal drinks we get from the house elves down in the kitchens," answered Fred.
"And the butterbeers and anything stronger we keep a secret stash of that we replenish from time to time through the secret passageway to Hogsmeade," continued George.
"That takes some effort, but the house elves are happy to give us anything we ask for that they have in the kitchens," added Fred.
"Even give it to us in a bag that's smaller on the outside and has a lightening charm on it so we can easily bring it back up here without any of the teachers noticing," finished George.
"How do you get down there?" asked Hermione. "And do they give out food at any time, or only during specific hours, like meal times?"
"There's a concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit on the basement corridor before you get to the Hufflepuff common room," answered George. "Just tickle the pear, and it giggles and turns into a large green door handle."
"And we've never actually tried during meal times, but I assume they'd give you food then, too," added Fred. "But they've always just given us as much as we could want every time we've gone down there, whenever it is."
"But why do you want to know?" asked George suspiciously.
"Cause we've heard rumors you're trying to free house elves," added Fred.
Fred and George had a point, and Hermione knew it. She'd reacted a little hastily when she'd first found out that Hogwarts had house elves, without having done any research first to find out whether her preconceived notions were actually true or not. The only house elves she'd ever known of before then were Dobby and Winky, and everything Harry had told her about Dobby had sounded terrible and Mr Crouch had treated Winky badly the one day she'd seen Winky, and so she had automatically assumed all house elves must be treated like that without any proof that that was actually true.
But then she'd taken a minute, and did what she always did any time she was faced with a problem or something she didn't know — she went to the library. Unfortunately, the library hadn't exactly been as helpful as she'd hoped, it being rather hard to find anything in there at all on house elves, and what she had found had been rather contradictory. But she'd eventually come to the conclusion that not all house elves were treated like Dobby and Wink had been, and that her assumption that the Hogwarts house elves, and house elves in general, were treated that poorly, had been a rather hasty judgment on her part. And now having learned as much as the library could offer her, the only way she could really find out what a house elf's life was like was to actually find and talk to some.
So this was her chance, her chance to actually go talk to the Hogwarts house elves, and see how they felt about their position and treatment. After all, she wanted to really see what it was like being a house elf before she judged Hogwarts for having them — she wasn't a bigot after all.
"I just want to go talk to them," Hermione replied to the twins. "I'm only interested in freeing the ones mistreated like Dobby was by the Malfoys and Winky was by Mr Crouch. So as long as Hogwarts doesn't treat theirs like slaves, then we should get along just fine."
The twins seemed satisfied by her answer, as they didn't say anything more, and went off to offer a Canary Cream to an unsuspecting Neville.
It wasn't until one in the morning that Harry and Hermione finally left the party and parted ways at the staircases up to the guys and girls dorms with one last hug for the day. As Harry climbed the staircase to the very top of the tower and his warm, awaiting bed, he realized that he hadn't seen Ron all party, or even since the redhead had knocked into him leaving the common room as he and Hermione had entered following the first task. But when Harry pushed open the door to his dorm room, he had a sudden feeling of déjà vu from the night his name had come out of the goblet.
Ron was lying on his bed fully dressed, clearly having been waiting for Harry to arrive from the party below.
"Congratulations. Enjoying yourself, I see," said the redhead as soon as he saw Harry.
Like before, his tone was the complete opposite of his words.
Not interested in a fight at the moment, and really just wanting to go to bed, Harry said firmly, "Like I told you the night my name came out, I didn't enter myself, nor did I have anyone enter me. And I'm just trying to survive now that I have been entered." Then after a pause, he couldn't help himself and added, "And by the way, just how exactly was the invisibility cloak supposed to help me get past an age line? That doesn't even make any bloody sense — it was an age line, not some guard I would have had to sneak past."
Then he turned his back on the redhead and headed into the bathroom to get ready for bed, really wishing he had his invisibility cloak with him at the moment to get back from the bathroom to his bed without having to face Ron again. Fortunately, however, Ron had apparently decided Harry was still too thick-skulled to talk with and had wrenched closed the hangings of his bed while Harry was in the bathroom, enabling Harry to make it to bed without any further confrontations, for which he was very thankful.
Chapter 3
The following afternoon, after their final class of the day, Hermione pulled Harry down to the kitchens with her to meet the Hogwarts house elves.
Arriving at the portrait the twins had told her about, she tickled the pear, causing it to turn into the door handle she needed. Opening the door, she and Harry stepped inside, taking in the enormous, high-ceilinged room. It was a prefect replica of the Great Hall above it, only with mounds of glittering brass pots and pans covering the walls, a great brick fireplace at the far end, and house elves bustling about cooking and carrying food and drinks to the four long tables that sat directly beneath the tables in the Great Hall above, and apparently magically transferred the food up to said corresponding tables.
They had barely had time to look around and take it all in before house elves were bustling up to them offering them trays of food and drinks, and asking them what they could get them. Then as Hermione tried to explain that they didn't want anything and were just there to talk (not helped by Harry taking a chocolate eclair one of the house elves offered and a flagon of pumpkin juice offered by another), there was a loud squeal from the other side of the room, and one of the house elves dashed across the room and threw themselves at Harry, hugging him nearly as tightly as Hermione did when she hugged him.
"Harry Potter, sir! Harry Potter!"
Harry immediately recognized the house elf as none other than Dobby, who he'd liberated from the Malfoys a year and half earlier.
"Dobby!" he gasped, both in surprise and the fact the house elf was still hugging him so tightly he could barely breath.
"It is I, Harry Potter! It is Dobby, sir!"
"What are you doing here, at Hogwarts?" asked Harry. "Last I heard, you were trying to find a job."
"Dobby has found a job at Hogwarts, sir!" squealed the house elf excitedly. "Professor Dumbledore gave Dobby and Winky jobs, sir!"
"Winky?" exclaimed Hermione. "She's here too?"
"Oh yes!" replied Dobby, seizing both Harry and Hermione's hands and pulling them through the kitchen to the fireplace.
On the hearth sat Winky on a stool, looking miserable.
"Winky?" said Hermione quietly, squatting down next to her. But Mr Crouch's former house elf merely burst into tears, something it looked like she'd been doing quite frequently based on the state of her clothes.
"So how long have you been here?" asked Harry to Dobby as Hermione tried to get Winky to stop crying.
"Only a week, Harry Potter, sir!" answered Dobby.
Hermione soon gave cheering Winky up as a lost cause, and stood back up. Looking down at Dobby, she said, "It's really nice to finally meet you, Dobby — Harry's told me all about you. I know Winky said you were having trouble finding a job that paid — is Hogwarts paying you?"
"Oh, yes ma'am! Dobby gets a Galleon a week and one day off a month!"
"And is that what you want?" asked Hermione. "I don't know much about wizarding money, being a muggle and all."
It was a lie, she knew everything there was to know about the wizarding economy just as she knew everything she could about everything magical, and it seemed like a very small amount of pay to her, but the little guy seemed to be extremely happy, so she wasn't about to judge before she'd heard his side.
"More than enough, ma'am!" exclaimed Dobby, before shuddering slightly. "Professor Dumbledore offered Dobby ten Galleons a week, and weekends off, but Dobby beat him down, miss... Dobby likes freedom, miss, but he isn't wanting too much, miss, he likes work better."
Hermione nodded, adding this to her knowledge about house elves, or at least this one in particular. Then looking around at the rest of the house elves bustling about the kitchen, including the four still standing with them holding trays of food and drinks in case either her or Harry wanted anything, she said, "Forgive me for being naive, but it seems to me like this is a rather hard, tedious job for the rest of you not to be getting paid anything."
"Oh, no, ma'am!" exclaimed a dozen or so of the house elves at once. "We enjoy the work we are doing! We do not want payed!"
"I've heard Dobby's former masters didn't treat him very well. And I know you can't speak badly about your masters, but are they fairer than Dobby's former masters?" pressed Hermione.
She knew if they were poorly treated that they wouldn't be able to say so, but if what Harry had told her about Dobby was anything to go by and her own brief interaction with Winky in the Top Box at the Quidditch World Cup, she thought she should still be able to tell if they were having to keep themselves from saying anything negative, or if their answer was genuine.
"We are very well treated!" came several voices at once, all seemingly completely sincere.
Hermione nodded again, knowing she had as much of an answer as she was going to be able to get from the house elves themselves. So looking at Harry, she said, "You know, it's really getting close to supper time, so we should probably head back up towards the Great Hall, and not take up any more of the house elves' time." Looking around at all the house elves, she added, "And thank you so much for your time and the snacks, and Dobby, it was really nice to meet you."
The house elves bowed Harry and Hermione out of the kitchen, practically begging them to return any time they wanted.
As Harry and Hermione climbed the stairs back up to the Great Hall, Hermione said, "As impossible as it seems, it looks like house elves really do like their lives, and that most of them aren't as poorly treated as Dobby and Winky were."
"Does this mean your campaign against house elf-ism is over?" teased Harry.
"I'll still fight for those like Dobby and Winky who are abused, but yes — I seem to have been wrong in my initial belief that all house elves are helpless little creatures in need of rescuing," admitted Hermione playfully, causing Harry to chuckle.
"Well that's a relief to hear, because as a helpless little creature in need of your rescuing, I was beginning to get worried you wouldn't have enough time to spread between them and me."
Hermione slapped him playfully on the arm, laughing herself. "Don't you worry — I will always make time to rescue you."
By this point they'd arrived at the Great Hall and entered, still laughing and joking and teasing each other.
A week and a half later, in the first Care of Magical Creatures class of December, Hagrid announced that they were going to try to hibernate the blast-ended skrewts.
But as it turned out, the strange, now six feet long, and very menacing creatures did not in fact hibernate, at least not in pillow-lined wooden crates. Instead, they preferred to lay havoc on the boxes and anyone near them, causing the vast majority of the class to lock themselves safely in Hagrid's hut, watching the few brave enough to remain outside do battle with the rampaging beasts.
But Harry and Hermione were among those few brave souls who had remained outside, helping Hagrid restrain and re-tie up the magical, and very irritable, creatures. And they were finally down to the last skrewt, which Harry and Hermione were trying to hold it's attention so Hagrid could sneak around behind it. The beast was backing Harry and Hermione into the wall of Hagrid's hut as they tried to hold it off with sparks from their wands, when a cheerful voice said, "Well, well, well...this does look like fun."
Too focused on not losing their lives or limbs to Hagrid's pet project, neither Harry nor Hermione looked over to find the source of the comment, but Harry had instantly recognized it and muttered out of the corner of his mouth to Hermione, "Rita."
Once Hagrid had leapt onto the back of the skrewt and flattened it a few moment later, Harry and Hermione both turned to look at the 'journalist' with matching looks of derision. Neither of them had forgotten Rita's work of fiction after the wand weighing ceremony, and while surprised, stunned even, that she hadn't published another similarly lacking in truth article about the first task, especially as they'd seen her milling about afterwards, they were still feeling less than friendly towards the self-proclaimed reporter.
But Hagrid apparently was less than aware of who the intruder was, as once he'd climbed off the back of the skrewt and slipped a rope around it, turned to Rita and asked, "Who're you?"
"Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter," smiled Rita brightly. "So what are these fascinating creatures?" she asked, nodding towards the skrewt Hagrid was trying to drag over to its mates.
"Blast-Ended Skrewts," answered Hagrid with a grunt as he tied up the creature and walked back over towards Rita.
"Fascinating," replied Rita with great interest, before saying, "I've never heard of them before...where do they come from?"
Hagrid flushed slightly beneath his wild beard, and Harry and Hermione gave each other significant looks — given Hagrid's past record with magical creatures, who knew where these things had come from. Then again, Hagrid had yet to get in trouble for any of his illegal animals (the incident with Aragog and Tom Riddle not included), so what was the likelihood he would starting now? Being Dumbledore's favorite really had its advantages.
"They're, er…they're highly specialized," mumbled out Hagrid after a second, but Rita didn't seem to either notice or care about his hesitation, instead asking, "Been teaching long?"
As Rita's eyes glanced over at the few students who'd remained outside with Hagrid and all their various injuries, and then towards Hagrid's hut where the rest of the class (including all of the Slytherins) were cowering away, Hagrid answered, "This is o'ny me second year."
"Lovely," replied Rita, sounding every bit as if she hadn't payed a bit of attention to a word he'd said, which after her interview with Harry a month earlier, was probably true. "I don't suppose you'd like to give an interview, would you? Share some of your experience of magical creatures? The Prophet does a zoological column every Wednesday, as I'm sure you know. We could feature these — er — Bang-Ended Scoots."
"Blast-Ended Skrewts," replied Hagrid eagerly. "Yeah! Why not?"
Harry and Hermione both could think of several reasons why not, but held their tongues. There was no way Dumbledore didn't keep up with what was going on in his school, and not know that Hagrid was raising these creatures and using them as the focal point of his classes. Which in turn meant that they couldn't be too illicit, or Dumbledore himself would also get in trouble with Ministry for allowing one of his professors to have an illegal creature should anyone find out, which based on the number of injuries sustained so far by everyone in the class seemed very likely to happen sooner or later, if it hadn't already. And Hagrid was clearly excited to talk about his creatures, so who were they to deny him that opportunity?
So as they walked back up to the castle a few minutes later, after the bell had rung and Hagrid and Rita had set up a meeting for the interview, Harry asked, "What do you think is going to happen? Hagrid didn't look too eager to share where those things had come from, and knowing his propensity for collecting creatures of questionable character, it might not be of the most legal nature in the eyes of the Ministry."
Hermione shrugged. "Rita will twist his words to suit whatever her narrative is, Dumbledore will protect Hagrid from any punishment like he always does, and if we're really, really lucky, Hagrid will be required to kill those things in exchange for not facing any Ministry action."
Harry laughed. "Wouldn't that be great — but forgive me if I don't hold my breath."
"Speaking of holding your breath and the death that follows that, since you gave up caring about Divination a long time ago, you should incorporate the skrewts into your weekly death you have to predict for whatever nonsense method of predicting the future you're studying at the moment," suggested Hermione as they walked into the Great Hall for lunch.
"Is the great Hermione Granger actually suggesting ways for me to half-arse my homework?" gasped Harry in mock aghastness. "Who are you, and what have you done with the studious bookworm I know and love?"
"I know, I know," chuckled Hermione. "Normally I would never suggest giving anything less than your best for — well, anything, to be quite honest — but this is Divination we're talking about. It's a load of crap, and the few times there seem to be real predictions, like with Trelawney and Pettigrew last year, it wasn't in the least bit influenced by anything that can be taught in a classroom. You've either got the gift and occasionally get prophecies you're in no control of, or you're just making up vague nonsense that's bound to occur in some form or fashion if you really believe it, because it's so vague it can be fit to mean anything. And while I sincerely doubt you're a true seer, even if you are, Divination class isn't going to make a hill of beans difference on any future prophecies you may or may not make. So I just might be a hair bit more lenient on that class than any others."
"So just to be clear, you're suggesting I completely throw out any pretense of caring about that class, and just make everything up from this point on?"
"Since you can't drop the class and pick up Arithmancy or Runes like I'd prefer — yeah," answered Hermione seriously. "It's a waste of everyone's time, so as long as you promise to use the time you used to spend half caring about that homework to either work on other homework or the tournament, then yes. I'm suggesting you completely stop caring, and I'll even start helping you make stuff up to get it done quicker. What is it you're doing in there now, anyway?"
Harry and Hermione proceeded to spend the entirety of lunch laughing over new and creative ways to cause Harry's horrific untimely demise based on where random balls of fire happened to be in respect to the planet earth at different times of the year. Several of those around them who were also less than enthralled by the study of Divination joined in on the fun, but one person who'd sat down near them did not.
Ron had taken a seat several spots away from where Harry and Hermione were, but was still close enough that he couldn't help overhearing them, and sat scowling the entire time as they laughed and joked about star charts and predictions — Hermione Granger, the know-it-all bookworm, not only not scolding Harry for not giving his best in a class, but actively helping him make stuff up. Make stuff up like he himself used to do with the Boy-Who-Lived before said attention-whore refused to tell him how he'd entered himself into the tournament, hoarding all the fame and attention and money of competing in the tournament for himself. And now Hermione, who used to scold him for not taking his homework seriously, was helping Harry do exactly what she used to scold him about. It was enough to make him wonder if they'd ever really been his friends at all, or if they'd been lying about that, too.
So when he and Harry had Divination later that afternoon, he sneered the hardest when Professor Trelawney said death was circling ever nearer to Harry. But Harry was too busy not caring about Professor Trelawney's predictions or Ron to notice, pleasantly daydreaming instead about the upcoming Christmas holiday, and all the work he wouldn't have to do during it and the fabulous girl he'd not being doing said homework with.