Disclaimer: I, by no means, claim to own anything remotely related to the Harry Potter Universe. No copyright infringement intended.

Byline: This is definitely a Harry/Hermione story.

AN: This is a fourth year story. Some of the things that happen in the book and movie do generally happen in this story, just differently, and maybe in a different order. It definitely goes by the movie mostly. Particularly the Tasks and the Yule Ball. Enjoy!

Chapter One

Hermione Granger was almost certain she would make it back to the classroom before him. She had to. She'd promised to have everything ready by the time he arrived, not that she thought he would even care if they started a little later than they agreed. It was just that her Arithmancy classroom was so much further away from his Divination classroom.

Believing the classroom was indeed empty - as Professor McGonagall had promised, so they could work in private - Hermione burst threw the door, somewhat ungracefully, only to find him already there. Sitting at a table. With a book open in front of him. Huh?

Only, his eyes were closed. And he hadn't even reacted to her arrival.

Sensing something was amiss, she gently shut the door behind her and started to move towards him. "Harry?" she queried softly, not really wanting to disturb him.

It took him a long while to register the sound of her voice. When he did, his eyes snapped open and settled on her, drinking in the sight. Hermione actually shivered under the gaze of the striking green. Merlin, what had happened?

He was out of his seat in the next second, bounding towards her like a freight train. She was actually afraid of the impact, so she was pleasantly surprised by the gentleness of his embrace. That, and she was normally the one to initiate the contact, so something definitely must have happened. It also didn't help that she hadn't seen him all day. Having all these other foreign students roaming the corridors really messed with her schedule and daily routine. How was it that the first time she was seeing her best friend was after all their official classes had ended?

Tenderly, Hermione wrapped her own arms around him. Wow, he was warm. Pleasantly warm. And soft, baby soft. She was also certain that he was trembling. She ran a hand from his shoulder down his back, somehow translating to him that she was there. She wasn't going anywhere. It seemed to work because he eventually pulled back and gave her an embarrassed smile.

"Sorry about that," Harry said softly. "I suppose I was just really relieved to see you."

Hermione just nodded, swatting the awkwardness aside. If she could give him hugs, so could he. "You look pale, and you're shaking. You're not coming down with something, are you?"

"I reckon I am," he mumbled, moving back to the table and retaking his seat. "I'm suddenly coming to terms with my mortality."

She frowned as she too moved towards the table. "What are you talking about?"

Harry indicated to the open pages in front of him. "Tell me, the brightest witch of our generation, just how much do you know about dragons?"

Hermione's eyes opened wide. "Excuse me?"

"Dragons, Hermione. The First Task is a bloody dragon! They have one for each of us."

Hermione had to sit down to digest that news. She dropped down into a chair to his right but it didn't really help. She actually couldn't believe it. "Wait. How do you even know what the First Task is?"

Harry looked at her. He really looked at her.

Hermione couldn't help but shiver once more. Why was he looking at her like that all of a sudden? It was almost like he was finally seeing her, for all that she was. Why was that so terrifying, and exciting at the same time?

"Ron's backhanded tale the other day," he muttered, looking away, feeling a bit ashamed of how he had acted towards her. "Hagrid took me out to see them - the dragons - last night. Under the Invisibility Cloak, of course. I was pretty much third-wheeling the most awkward date between him and Madame Maxime. It'll give me nightmares until I'm old and grey."

Despite her obvious concern, Hermione had to smile.

"But then again, so will a dragon." He looked at her, green eyes boring into her, as if she held all the answers.

Well, perhaps she did. Was that why she was here? All she was good for?

Harry leaned back in his chair, his lips moving but not saying anything. He closed his eyes again.

Hermione stared at his lips. Eight. Nine. Ten. ... Was he counting? "Harry?" she croaked, her worry getting the better of her.

He stopped suddenly and looked at her. "Sorry. Right. Umm, I know I'm not usually like this. I mean, I should be calm and stoic, but I have literally never been more scared in my entire life. Okay, maybe I have, I don't know. But nothing has ever felt like this. I'm literally shaking." He held out his hands for her to see. "How on earth am I supposed to evade a dragon when I can barely hold a bloody wand?"

Sensing the path he was taking himself down, Hermione took hold of both his hands in her own and squeezed them tight. "Hey! Okay, yeah, it's a little foreboding."

He gave her a sideways look.

"Okay, it's a lot foreboding, but we've faced worse odds, right? And I already told you I would help you. I'm not about to back out just because you have to face a dragon. What kind of friend would I be if I just left you to figure it all out for yourself?"

Harry stared at their hands for a while, deciding he quite liked the softness of her skin against his. Also, their fingers kind of fit perfectly together.

Under his scrutiny, Hermione carefully withdrew her hands, thinking he didn't appreciate the contact. She sat back to think, which was probably a bad idea. She almost fed off his initial panic, only fueling her anger.

"Dragons," she whispered under breath. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. Eventually, she slammed a palm down on the table, surprising them both. "Are they insane?" she asked, her voice rising. "I mean, are they trying to kill you?"

Harry just stared at her. "It wouldn't be the first time," he said sheepishly.

Hermione would have reprimanded him by punching him in the arm but, instead, she moved the hair away from where it had fallen over his eyes. She needed to see the green. "Well, there was the time when they had a three-headed dog in a school. With children."

Harry gave her his most trademark smirk, eliciting a completely un-Hermione-like giggle from the female Gryffindor. "And the whole Chamber of Secrets thing. You'd think they would have figured out they were harbouring a giant snake sooner than three measly twelve-year-olds."

Hermione laughed out loud at that. "And the dementors. Who invites soul-sucking demons into a school? Honestly. Where are their manners?"

Harry laughed with her, his eyes turning to slits. "And now, sure, we'll let a fourteen-year-old fight a dragon. Nothing terrible could possibly happen."

Slowly, morbidly, their laughter died down. The reality was that Harry Potter, fourteen or not, would be facing off with a dragon whether he liked it or not. Now, it was up to Hermione to make sure that he didn't get killed. Because, really, what kind of life would she live without Harry James Potter?

"Is that book even on dragons?" Hermione asked, breaking their post-laughter silence.

Harry seemed to snap back to reality. "Honestly, I have no idea. It was the first one I could grab."

She laughed lightly. "You're the worst."

He shook his head. "I don't know how you find anything in that library of yours. And these things are bloody heavy. I reckon you'd even consider this light reading, wouldn't you?"

She was about to shoot something back at him but she thought twice. "If we're going to do this, and we are going to do this, you can't tease me about my books." She hadn't even realised that the volume of her voice had dropped.

Harry looked at her, suddenly feeling ashamed. "I'm not teasing your books," he said, the truth of it in his perfect, green eyes. "I love your books. I love that you love your books. I love your books because you love your books. Hermione, I love your books because they help you keep me alive!" He was breathless by the end of his tiny monologue.

Hermione had to smile. "You should probably find another verb, other than 'love'," she pointed out. "Your overuse is diminishing its effectiveness."

"Why? I like it. No, I love it. It just makes so much sense in my head. It just, it... just has so much meaning. I mean, would you say appreciate instead? Really? Or, better yet, would you say adore?" He leaned forward, with his eyes doing that thing again. He was looking at her. "I appreciate you, Hermione Granger," he said, so seriously that she swore her heart actually stopped.

She literally had no beating heart.

"I adore you."

Her heart still hadn't restarted.

"I love you."

She would have passed out; she really would have.

"Now you tell me which one has the greatest effect," he added, sitting up straight again. "And be truthful. Which one makes the most sense in your head?"

None of them.

All of them.

Hermione remained silent, not trusting herself to speak. But she did breathe. Thankfully. How was it that he could reach that kind of severity? The way he looked at her. Honestly, he was only fourteen.

"That's what I thought," he said, not bothering to wait for a reply. Perhaps he sensed that none would come. Harry Potter had managed to do the impossible: he had silenced her. That was a feat enough to announce him the winner of the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

Hermione used the time that he absently paged through the book to get a hold of herself. He was trying to prove a point. He said what he said to prove a point. Calm down, Hermione Granger.

"We probably need more books, don't we?" he eventually concluded, slamming closed the book in front of him, displacing some dust.

The sound prompted Hermione into action. "Definitely. That book's rubbish."

"Are you insulting my choices?" he asked, his gaze meeting hers. "Because I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"And why wouldn't I?" she had to ask, even if she was slightly afraid of his answer.

His eyes narrowed, only intensifying his gaze. "I chose you, didn't I?"

Hermione, again, didn't trust herself to speak. Instead, she rose to her feet, grabbed his hand, pulled him up and started to lead them to library. She forced herself not to think about the sublime warmth of his hand in hers. Why was he so warm? And soft!

She walked briskly, tugging him along through the empty corridors.

Harry followed, only slightly smirking. If Hermione were to actually ask what was going on with him, he probably wouldn't have an answer. Suddenly, all he really wanted to do was look at her. Like look look at her. She was really quite fascinating. And he quite loved it when she was mad at him. A small part at the back of his brain even allowed him to think that she was positively cute when she was scolding him. He let out a laugh.

Bloody dragons.

Hermione climbed the stairs to the library two at a time. At the first sight of another human being, she released his hand. There were already enough rumours going around; there was no need to add fuel to the fire.

The absent murmuring around the few occupied tables dropped to hushed silence when the two Gryffindors arrived. Neither one paid any attention to it. Harry, in his time, was used to being stared at and talked about. It came with being Harry Potter, he supposed. Hermione, on the other hand, in her time, was used to Harry, and whatever came with him.

"Let's start in the Magical Creatures section," she instructed, leading him through tables and large bookshelves. The girl knew exactly where she was going.

He watched in fascination as she expertly chose books from shelves. Some books, he couldn't even make out the titles of. She was so much in her element that Harry would have been contented just watching her. Honestly. In that moment, he couldn't think of doing anything better. Well... As long as it involved her.

"I think these will do for now," she eventually said, indicating to a pile she had selected. It was a rather boisterous pile, with some fifteen books, all of varying thicknesses.

"I can already feel my brain shutting down," he said, only slightly groaning.

"Harry, you can't honestly expect me to do all the work," she said, straightening her back and lifting her chin.

Putting a hand on the back of a chair was the only thing that stopped Harry from passing out. By straightening her back, she pushed other assets forward, and Harry's idle boy mind definitely reacted. Huh. Strange.

"I don't," he forced out.

She frowned, a bit confused. "Okay...?" She started to pick up some books. "Help me get these back to the classroom."

Harry whipped out his wand and used the levitation charm to lift the remaining books, which made Hermione give him a look. "I'm not all braun, baby," he found himself saying. "Got a bit of brains too, you know?"

Hermione just shook her head as she once again led the way through the library to where they checked out the books. By the time they made it back to the classroom Professor McGonagall had so generously informed them would be empty every day after classes, Hermione was already sprouting out all sorts of theories, even though she hadn't even opened a book yet.

Harry just listened in his new, constant fascination. The part in the back of his brain allowed him to think that she was even cuter when she was going on and on, deep in her element. Who, in their right mind, would ever dream of shutting her up?

While she separated the books into workable piles, Harry pulled parchment, quills and ink from his bag and lay them on one of the larger tables. This way, they could both take notes as they went through the books. Not that he expected he would have that much to contribute. It wasn't that he wasn't interested in finding ways to keep himself alive. He was very interested in that. It was that Hermione was so much better to look at.

Every few sentences of reading, he would have to look up. It was like a need. He had to see her, just make sure she was still there. With Ron leading all those who abandoned him; he was quite certain that he wouldn't survive if Hermione ever didn't believe in him.

"I can't concentrate when you keep looking at me like that," Hermione eventually said, not even looking up from her pages. She absently bit on the back of his quill, deep in thought.

"Like what?" he asked innocently, now unafraid to look at her. She'd caught him. What was the point of sneaking now?

Hermione exaggerated a sigh as she shifted the large book so she could get a better look at him. "Like you have something to say but you're too afraid of what I'll think, so you're buying your time, waiting for the right moment. Only, the right moment won't arrive, and then it will be too late, and then it'll all just be awkward."

Harry just blinked.

"Am I right?"

Was she? He just blinked some more.

"What do you want to say, Harry? Just say it. I'm all ears. You have my undivided attention."

Harry searched his brain, looking for what, if anything, he wanted to say to her, ask her. Everything just seemed so unimportant now. He was looking at her and he was seeing her. How was he supposed to convey that to her without having her run for the hills? Really, sometimes even a look in the mirror made him want to run. Anywhere far away from him was safest. He was about to fight a dragon, for God's sake.

And the thing is, he was pretty certain she would have climbed into the ring with him, if she could have.

Bloody dragons.

Harry was looking at her again. Something in his green eyes had changed, and it looked permanent. Maybe she was watching him grow up. This was it. The Tri-Wizard Tournament was turning him into a man. It was beautiful to watch, and yet still a damn shame. She didn't want the childish gleam in his eyes to be gone forever.

"Harry?" she prompted.

He smiled, trying to look as innocent as possible. "What?"

"Stop looking at me. I'm trying to save your life here."

That only made him smile more. "But I like looking at you."

Hermione's eyes snapped towards him. "What?"

"It's calming," he explained. "Like, no matter what happens, I can look at you, and everything will be okay." He lifted his hands to show her. "Look, I'm not even shaking anymore. You did that, Hermione. You do that for me. Every day."

If Hermione didn't have the book in her lap, or if she weren't pressed so close to the table, she might have slipped right out of her chair. What was happening right now? Who was this person? "Harry, are you sure you're all right?"

He nodded, while giving her a curious look. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

She just looked at him, trying to read his face for what was really going on. But, really, he just looked amused. And serious. It was a strange but endearing combination. "That hair of yours is bothering me," she said. "Why does it keep falling over your eyes? Honestly, doesn't it know that the great public needs to see those eyes?"

Harry bent his head forward and then whipped it back, moving the hair from his eyes. "Better?"

She beamed. Actually. It felt like her smile might even split her face. "You're the worst, you know?"

He blinked innocently.

"And use your hand next time," she added. "Might give yourself whiplash."

That made him laugh out loud, and it seemed to ripple right through his entire body. "So will fighting a dragon."

"Ah." As if remembering why they were actually there, Hermione returned her attention to what she was reading. If she noticed him looking at her, she didn't comment on it. It kind of felt nice in a way. Having him look at her, even if it was for selfish reasons. Even after all these years, he still needed her. Harry Potter. Needed her. Hermione Granger. Crazy.

After a while - really, after Harry paged through a few books - he stood up and walked around the room. Hermione was only vaguely aware of his whereabouts, right until she felt him behind her. Without her realising, he was there, and his breath was hot against her skin.

"Found anything?" he asked, peering over her shoulder, as he bent to take a look at what she was reading.

He was so close, Hermione actually stopped thinking. She couldn't find the words to speak. He smelled so good. What was that? Vanilla?

"Or are you just finding ways to affirm the fact that this dragon is, in fact, going to kill me?" he asked, finally standing up and releasing whatever hold his proximity had on her. He started to walk around again, completely unaware of the sporadic heartbeat of his best friend.

Hermione forced herself to calm down. This was insane. It was just Harry. Her Harry. They had sat side by side for years. What could have possibly changed? "Harry," she said, turning her head to look at him.

He stopped moving and turned to look at her. "Hermione."

"I promise I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you survive. Okay?"

He nodded dumbly, the intensity of her tone catching him off guard.

"Now, please come and sit down," she said, exaggerating yet another sigh. "You are starting to give me a headache."