As they were heading back to the castle, Viktor Krum suddenly approached them and asked if he could have a moment alone with Hermione. Harry eyed him suspiciously as Hermione led the Dursmstrang student a small distance away to speak. At some point in the conversation, Krum glanced Harry's way and she turned a furious shade of red and shook her head. She shook her head a few more times and seemed to be talking very fast before Krum gave her a helpless smile and held out his hand. Hermione shook it amiably.

When she returned, Harry was overcome by curiosity and couldn't help but ask, "What did he say to you?"

"Nothing much," a light dusting of pink still covered her face and she seemed adamant on not talking about it so Harry dropped the subject.

_____

They were eating breakfast at the Great Hall when owl after owl landed near Hermione's plate and dropped off a mountain of letters.

"What in the world!" Hermione exclaimed as she opened a letter, her eyes widening as they travelled along the page. "Oh, for goodness sake!"

Harry ripped open one of the letters near him: 'You are a sad, miserable excuse of a witch. Stay away from Harry Potter if you know what's good for you, muggle.'

He grabbed another.

'You think you can play the Boy-Who-Lived like a puppet. In the end, you'll be the one crying. Shameless wench!'

Another. And another. They were all the same, insulting Hermione in every way possible, mocking her looks and her heritage, accusing her of debauchery and low moral standards. Harry would have thought it hilarious in any other situation because clearly these people knew nothing about his best friend and how brilliant she really was. But Hermione kept ripping one letter after the other, her eyebrows furrowing with frustration the more she read and Harry felt his ire rising at these nameless people who had dared to put that expression on her face, supposedly for his sake.

"Ouch!" Hermione cried, as the last letter opened and covered her hands in a sickly looking yellowish-green liquid. Harry stood up in horror as large boils erupted all over her hands and tears sprang to her eyes.

"We have to go to the Hospital Wing!" He grabbed her bag and made a hand motion for her to hurry up. "Come on, before those boils get any worse."

"Harry!" Hermione protested. "I'll go by myself, you have Potions right now and Professor Snape—"

Harry proceeded to use a colorful list of words for where Snape could shove his opinions, ignored Hermione's shocked gasp in favour of gingerly grabbing her by the arm, and marched them to the Hospital Wing.

Madam Pomfrey fussed over Hermione, but she didn't seem all that surprised to have her there, and neither did she ask her any details for what had happened. When Harry asked her, she sighed and said, "I had expected something like this after reading the paper."

"What paper?"

She tutted, "Miss Granger, you are hardly in the state to worry about that right now. What you need is rest."

"How can I when people out there are talking about me and I didn't even know about it? I hate being behind on information!" Hermione begged and pleaded before Madam Pomfrey finally relented.

After the bandaging was done, she placed a Witch Weekly article in front of them and informed Harry that in no circumstances was he to allow his overly enthusiastic friend to turn the pages or use her hands for the next two hours at all.

Hermione looked at him impatiently and he rolled his eyes before squeezing on to the hospital bed and holding up the article in front of her. It said in large, bolded letters: "MUGGLEBORN WITCH TWO-TIMING THE BOY-WHO-LIVED AND FAMOUS QUIDDITCH PLAYER." Underneath that in fancy cursive was the subtitle: "Harry Potter's Secret Heartache."

Hermione's eyes skimmed it over with lightning speed. The article stated Harry was in a one-sided love with his 'plain but ambitious' girlfriend, who was merely latching on to him for his fame while she turned her eyes elsewhere.

Harry ignored both the word 'girlfriend' and the awkwardness it made him feel, choosing to focus on something more important.

"Ambitious, that I can see. But plain? I reckon Skeeter needs a new glasses prescription." He nudged Hermione who let out an unladylike snort, but couldn't quite hide her smile.

Skeeter cited that only a short while after they had engaged in a 'scandalous' display of public affection during the second task, Hermione had 'abandoned' Harry for Krum's side.

"Scandalous?" Harry sputtered. "It was just a hug!"

"Which," Hermione raised her chin smugly, "you initiated."

Harry snorted. "Are you still going on about that? How many times will I have to hug you first before you let it go?"

She nodded gravely. "You have three years of hugs to make up for, Harry James Potter. Three whole years of Harry Hugs."

Well, Harry thought as he recalled the pleasant way she had felt in his arms, that doesn't sound like much of a hardship.

Hermione was continuing her rant: "And honestly! I was standing not ten feet away from you! I would hardly call that 'abandoning!'"

The article continued to spin a tale of betrayal and heartache, inserting the fact that Hermione had been 'the person he would miss most' to spice up the tale in every other sentence. Apparently, Krum had confessed to Hermione and asked if there was a chance for him with Harry in the picture. Rita reported that she had made a 'sly move' by acting like Harry and her were 'just friends' and in refusing Krum's approach, she was only playing 'hard to get.'

'Miss Granger seems to have a very unique definition of friendship,' one line said mockingly.

"Now, that's just not right." Harry frowned, frustrated. Hermione had her own faults: she was too demanding at times, a little headstrong and stubborn, sometimes a little too bossy... But she was not a bad friend. On the contrary, his friendship with Hermione was one of the best things that had ever happened to him. It rattled him to see strangers poking their noses into their friendship and acting as if they had a right to tear it apart for entertainment.

Hermione made a sound of agreement. "Yes, I think so too! Something's not right at all. How did she know what I told you after we came out of the lake? How did she know that Viktor confessed to me? She had to have been spying somehow—either through an invisibility cloak or something else I'm overlooking!"

"Wait," Harry swiveled his head to look at her. "He actually confessed to you?"

"Yes," Hermione squared her shoulders, as if expecting to defend herself.

"I mean," Harry rubbed his neck awkwardly, "I just thought Skeeter was exaggerating things like she always does. So, Krum really did that—asked if there was something between you and me?"

"Yes—well," she fidgeted, "I set him straight on that one, but he didn't seem to believe me for some reason. Anyway, I just ended the conversation by telling him that although I didn't see myself visiting him in Bulgaria any time soon, I was flattered by his invitation and hoped we could be friends. Then we shook hands. That's it."

"That's it." He echoed.

There was an awkward silence for a long moment before Harry blurted out. "He was too old for you anyway!"

She raised an eyebrow, and he struggled for something else to add: "And too gloomy!"

Hermione giggled. "Harry, there's no need to worry. I wasn't going to say yes. I barely know anything about him! Besides, I'm too busy trying to make sure you survive to even think of anything else this year."

"Well, now I feel even more guilty."

"What for?"

"Being my friend has brought you nothing but trouble." He motioned towards her heavily bandaged hands. "And I make you too invested in my problems to the point that you worry all the time and barely have time for yourself."

Hermione snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. Need I remind you that I chose to be your friend? I think, in some twisted way, I even appreciate all these headaches you get involved in. Otherwise, how would I ever challenge myself?"

"What, plain old Hogwarts too boring for you?" Harry smirked. "You need dark lords, basilisks, dementors, and dragons to get that excitement going?"

"You face increasingly dangerous situations every year; if I don't level up accordingly, where would that leave me? There's no fun if we're not winning!"

She meant it as a joke, he knew, but it struck him at that moment how true it was. Every year he faced something more terrible. His first year he had faced Voldemort's wraith. By seventh year, would he be facing Voldemort in the flesh? He shuddered at the thought and quickly banished it to the back of his mind.