AN: Wow. A story that broke 100 reviews, that is amazing. Thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing, everyone enjoying the story and sharing it. Thank you all. It makes it worth it.

Some snippets of text taken directly from the novels Goblet of Fire and Order of the Phoenix, all JK Rowling's work.

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One aspect of being entered into the "Damnable Tournament" as he liked to call it, that Harry could appreciate was being able to skive off from classes in order to prepare for the tasks. Ever since the last meeting in the Headmaster's office, he hadn't been to many potions lessons in the dungeons. It was a sign of how understandable such a decision was that even Hermione had not called him out on missing the classes.

Not wanting to fall behind though, Harry continued with studying the subject on his own time. The main issue was that there was nowhere available that he could practice actual brewing, since he certainly wasn't going to go to Snape and request time in the lab when classes were not in session. He wouldn't put it past the greasy git to sabotage every ingredient before he'd even come in to work on them at this point.

It was late one afternoon, just about time to set off for the Great Hall to eat, as Harry sat around a table in the library with Hermione, Fleur and Neville, lamenting this issue with his personal studies of the subject. "I'm doing a lot better with grasping the information reading it on my own instead of being told to read the blackboard and given a time limit. But even I know that you need to actually brew in order to know if you've got a good grasp on it. There's no way I'm going to ask Snape for any sort of a handout or help though. My head's been knocked around a bit, but not nearly that much."

A smack on the arm from Hermione, then one to Neville as he had to stifle laughter behind his hand, gave Fleur the opportunity to bring up a possible solution. "We do have such facilities in the carriage for students to work on projects or to simply practice. I'm not sure if Madame Maxime would be willing to allow you to use the space though. She does not speak of you with such a…" Tilting her head as she tried to think of the word, she glanced at Hermione. "Hostile?... Oui, hostile tone any longer. But she still does not think it fair that you are competing."

Letting out a sound that was suspiciously between a cough and a chuckle, Harry was cut off from his response by the sudden appearance of a familiar house elf. Dobby popped from thin air, standing on the book Harry had been looking through, hands wringing together with a large smile on his face. "BLOODY HELL!"

Harry's exclamation quickly caused Dobby to pop away once again, the sound of hurried footsteps their only warning before the stern librarian popped out from the corner. "Mr. Potter!" Madame Pince's low whisper still managed to come out with all the force and anger of a shout. "What is the meaning of this delinquency in the library?! Just because you're a champion does not mean you are allowed to flout the rules!"

Before Harry could even begin thinking of how to apologize to the book obsessed spinster, he felt something wet splash against his forearm. Glancing down he could see a sizable ink spot staining his skin and a bit of the rolled-up sleeve of his uniform shirt. He was trying to remember how that happened when Hermione began speaking. "Madame Pince, we apologize for the sudden outburst, but Jeeves popped up out of nowhere with an armload of inkwells. He tried splashing our table, but Harry managed to run him off by spoiling the element of surprise for him. Harry even managed to protect the books from the one bit of ink Jeeves managed to splash out." Gesturing to the arm that was now stained black, Hermione even lifted it a bit for the librarian's perusal.

Glasses perched at the tip of her nose, Madame Pince was leaning over, inspecting every inch of the table for signs of ink staining her precious tomes and looking every bit a bloodhound on the search. Eyeing Harry for a moment, she pulled her wand and with a quickly muttered spell removed the dark stain from his arm and shirt. "Well… thank you, Mr. Potter, for protecting the sanctity of the library and the books. Although next time, do please try to find a better way to run off the miscreant, if you could. Something quieter perhaps?" With that she was gone, back to re-shelving books.

Staring at the racks the woman had disappeared into, then over to Hermione, Harry had to shake his head to get the look of shock to finally break free. His eyes narrowed a bit as he looked at Hermione, as if studying her. "You… you're supposed to be the good one. You just lied to a staff member, and splashed ink on me."

An eye roll and overly dramatic sigh met him in response. "Honestly Harry. It's far from the first time I've had to lie to a member of the Hogwarts staff for you. Remember the troll? The night we became friends?"

His gaze drifted slightly as he did think back to that night, before a slight smile emerged. His hand slid over hers, squeezing lightly. "Best Halloween I've ever had, so far."

Neville and Fleur shared a grin at the sight of Hermione's rapidly reddening face, though even with his lack of experience around the fairer sex Neville thought Fleur's seemed a bit… forced? Weak? Brushing it off as something he would eventually figure out, he quietly cleared his throat. "Harry? Maybe you'd like to ask the elf, quietly, why he popped in on top of your book?"

Pulling himself out of the moment with Hermione, Harry nodded. "Good point, Nev. Ummm… Dobby?" Being prepared for it made the elf's entrance no less surprising, though this time Harry managed to only jump back slightly. "Hello Dobby. Now, can you quietly, and without raising Madame Pince's ire, tell us whatever it was you had to share?"

The four students were fairly certain it was only the elf's hold on his ears, wringing them excitedly, that kept his head from popping off as he nodded at such a frantic pace. He opened his mouth to speak, drawing in a deep breath, when Hermione's hand moved to cover it quickly. "Quietly, remember? You don't want to get Harry in trouble, do you?"

Big, expressive eyes opened even wider somehow as Dobby shook his head at that. Calming noticeably, he took a quiet breath before speaking. "Master Harry Potters is saying he is in need of a room to practice his brews. Dobby knows a room that can be just what Master Harry Potters needs."

His own smile growing at the news, Harry sat up straighter. "That's great news, Dobby. Is it an old potions classroom or something?"

Dobby's head shook quickly again. "Dobby heard tell of it from the other house-elves when he came to Hogwarts, sir. It is known by us as the Come and Go Room, sir, or else as the Room of Requirement!"

Glancing over to Hermione, Harry's brow raised as the unspoken question passed between them. Hermione could only shrug her shoulders, her own face slightly twisted in confusion. Apparently she hadn't even run across this in any of her reading about the school. Glancing back to the elf, Harry thought for a moment. "What sort of room is this Dobby? Why haven't we heard of anyone talking about it? Especially the Twins?"

"Because it is a room that a person can only enter when they have real need of it. Sometimes it is there, and sometimes it is not, but when it appears, it is always equipped for the seeker's needs."

That got a slight laugh from Neville, of all people. "Well Harry, you are 'the seeker' around here. Sounds like it was made just for you."

Harry's hand was raised to throw his quill at Neville when Hermione grabbed his wrist, before asking, "Dobby, where can we find this room?"

"It be on the seventh floor, across from Barnabas and his trollses. Here, Dobby will take you." And with that Harry and his books, satchel and parchment all disappeared in a nearly silent whoosh. The other three stared at each other a moment before Dobby reappeared, touching Hermione on the arm and suddenly she was gone as well.

Fleur and Neville stared at the empty spots a moment before Fleur let out a soft chuckle. "Well that was rude of them not to invit…"

Neville glanced over to see the French veela and her supplies were gone as well. When Dobby popped up in front of him, Neville had a moment to react. Leaning backwards with his hands up, Neville's eyes had widened as he realized what was about to happen. "Dobby… Dobby, no no no no no no no. I hate apparat…!" And Neville was gone, leaving no traces except an empty worktable.

Hearing the raised voice Madame Pince rushed over once again, this time to lay down the law quite thoroughly… only to find no one was there. Not even a book out of place.

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"…Ing!"

Several quiet moments passed by before Neville heard a soft chuckle. Then another... and a third joined in. Cracking his eyes open finally he saw the other three all standing nearby, watching him as he still had his hands up in front of him. Lowering them, he looked around and realized where they were from the tapestry of a wizard attempting to teach trolls how to dance the ballet. "That… that wasn't nearly as bad as apparating with Gran. I've never quite gotten used to that."

Fleur smiled as she watched Neville attempt to simply brush aside the moment. "I do not believe that was apparition. It was too… smooth?"

Hermione nodded. "All the rules say you can not apparate inside of Hogwarts. I think it was something based in elf magic."

Harry simply shouldered his satchel. "It'd be handy to know how to do it. That was a hell of a lot less stomach churning than floo travel and portkeys have been for me." Ignoring the softly muttered warning about his language from Hermione, Harry glanced up and down the corridor before turning to the small elf. "Dobby? Dobby, where's this room you were talking about? I don't see a door here."

Taking Harry's hand, Dobby tugged him closer to the wall, his feet slipping in his excited hurry to drag the larger wizard over. "Harry Potters sir must be walking past this wall three times and thinks of what he wants the room to be. Then the room appears!"

Harry stared at the elf, then at the wall. It sounded… crazy. But then he was standing in a magical school holding the hand of a house elf who had just transported them halfway across the school in seconds. With a light shrug he let go of Dobby and proceeded to pace a stretch of the floor in front of the wall segment, muttering softly to himself as he walked. "I need a potions lab to practice brewing potions in. I need a potions lab to practice brewing potions in. I need a potions lab to practice brewing potions in. I need a potions lab…"

After he turned from his third set of steps, a soft gasp interrupted his thoughts. Glancing over to the wall he was shocked to see a heavy wooden door now in place where there had only been brick. "What in the…? Dobby, is that supposed to happen?"

Dobby nodded frantically, grinning widely. "Go ahead, Master Harry Potters, sir. Go looks."

Walking over, Harry used both hands to get a good grip at the heavy ring for the door, giving a hard yank. He almost ended up on his rear on the floor as the door didn't take much effort at all to open. Stepping inside, just in case something had gone wrong he didn't want either of the girls going first, his jaw dropped at the sight before him.

Shelves and shelves of ingredients lined the wall, with several tables set up, all boasting top of the line equipment. Another row of storage shelves had cauldrons of every size and material you could even think to ask for. "You… you guys can come in. It's safe."

The other three followed him in and were all just as astonished to see what the room had to offer. Neville was the first to speak. "Snape might actually smile if he saw all of this. Let's never tell him. Ever."

Hermione laughed at that statement even as she was walking along the rows of ingredients. "Harry, there are items here that would cost a fortune on the market. This… this can't just be made out of thin air."

"It may be." Fleur spoke up as she trailed fingertips along several of the bottles. "I don't think they are real, though. I think they exist in the sense you need them in here with what Harry was asking for."

Glancing over to the older girl, Hermione looked back over the ingredients before nodding softly. "The five Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration." Seeing Harry and Neville stare at her with raised brow and questioning eyes, Hermione sighed. "Really you two. It's just like how you can't conjure food out of nothing. It would taste real but there's nothing actually there to fill you up. These ingredients, I believe, would do what they need to do for you as you're brewing, and react appropriately. But unless they were ingredients you brought in yourself from outside, they won't last or have any real affect like they're supposed to."

Harry just shrugged. "As long as I can make sure my brewing technique is solid, that's all I need."

Looking around the room, Neville let out a short bark of laughter. Once he realized the others were looking at him, he simply gestured around the room. "Can you imagine if I worked with Harry and learned how to do this properly? Maybe even a little ahead of the normal classes? Could you imagine the look on Snape's face if I, Neville Longbottom, began turning in O level potions?"

Before Harry could respond, a small snort resounded through the room. Glancing over they all saw Hermione with a hand covering her quickly reddening face, but she was unable to stop another before the laughter began bubbling out of her in droves. Apparently, the thought was intensely funny to her.

Harry pointed a finger at Neville. "And you… you're supposed to be the other good one. Talking about pranking the potions professor and making the smartest witch in school snort."

After a quick catalog of the resources, and testing the equipment to make sure it would work like they were used to, Harry stood by the worktable with a grin on his face. "I think I'm actually going to like potions class in the future."

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"Densaugeo!"

That curse kept rattling in Harry's mind as he stood near Hermione, watching as her upper teeth reached new lengths in mere seconds. A duel in the corridor outside of the Potions Lab surely wasn't his brightest moment lately. He heard some chatter behind him and was brushed aside by the hulking mass of a boil covered Goyle shoving past him and heading down the hallway. He didn't give it much thought, aside from a slight tinge of guilt that the curse meant for Malfoy hit Goyle instead. But the lunk had punched him recently, so any good graces were immediately swept away. "Hermione? Hermione, are you ok? Let's get you to Madame Pomfrey, alright?"

Trying to cover her growing teeth, Hermione simply nodded as Harry put an arm around her shoulders to lead her down the dark corridor and off to the infirmary. Of course, things never worked out that simply for him.

"Potter! A week's detention and 50 points from Gryffindor for hexing one of my students. Inside, now!"

Hermione stopped as soon as she heard the professor yelling but hadn't turned. Harry had to close his eyes and focus, trying not to unleash his rage right away before he turned back to the greasy bat. "And Malfoy? He threw a curse that hit Hermione, that's why I'm taking her to the hospital wing."

Walking over, robes still billowing even in the cramped confines of the corridor as none of the students had left yet as they wanted to witness what happened, Snape loomed over the pair as he leaned closer to look at Hermione. His lip ticked upward slightly. "I see no difference."

A quiet sob from Hermione had Harry's attention once again before he could react to the miserable professor's verbal jab. Glaring, his green eyes seemed to set ablaze as he stared Snape in the eye. Harry turned once again, guiding Hermione away from the classroom.

"I said into class now, Potter!"

Harry didn't even turn back to face the git as he spoke, tossing over his shoulder instead. "I'd tell you to kiss my ass, but I don't care for Malfoy's seconds. Or his father's."

A collective gasp rang out from many of the students, even a few Slytherins. They knew Harry Potter had been showing a totally new side lately, but this was beyond belief.

The professor and student in question were both sputtering, unable to vocalize their thoughts. Malfoy simply kept muttering something about his father hearing things before Snape found his voice once again. "What did you say? What did you say to me? Potter! Turn around you arrogant little bastard!"

Harry spun on that one, his hand up, finger pointed at the approaching teacher. "Unh uh uh. You and I both know better than that. You've seen fit to besmirch my father every chance you get ever since I stepped foot in this castle, so you don't get to use that one, Snape. You know very well who my father was. And I can only imagine from how you always curse him, he was better at a lot here than you were. Maybe that's why you're obsessed with trying to defame a dead man, instead of growing up and acting like an actual professor. I'll be back to class as soon as I make sure Hermione sees Madame Pomfrey. There will be plenty of time left for me to copy off the board and then start my potion. I hope you don't change things up and actually teach while I'm gone." Turning his back on Snape once again, something that hadn't proven to be a good idea the last time he tried it, Harry began walking with Hermione again.

Snape's usual pallor had given way to quite a bit of crimson as he glared at the Gryfindoor's backs. Without warning his arm came up from his robes, wand in hand and pointed at Harry. "Sectum…!"

"Expelliarmus!"

The shouted curse had drawn Harry's attention, but he wasn't going to be able to make it in time to block whatever Snape cast. The second incantation was a shock, since he hadn't been the one to say it. The wand flew out of Snape's hand, over his shoulder and behind him towards the crowd of students, into the outstretched hand of… Neville Longbottom.

Neville stared wide-eyed at the wand he'd just caught, unable to believe what he'd done. He'd cast a spell at a professor. He'd cast a spell at Professor Snape. He'd disarmed Professor Snape. Wait, he'd… he'd disarmed Professor Snape! A ghost of a smile curled at his lip as he took a few steps, fighting the shake he felt in his legs, trying to show no weakness. As he stood a few feet from the gaping professor, Neville held the wand out slowly. "Here, Professor Snape. I believe this is yours."

Without a word Snape snatched his wand up. Glaring at Neville, then back at Harry, then at the other students, Snape simply walked off down the corridor towards his office, not going into the lab as he'd been insisting everyone do. The slamming of a door rang out loudly in the stone hall, echoing for a good while.

Tilting his head in a gesture for Neville to come along with them, Harry and Hermione were soon walking again. Neville glanced back to see the other students staring at him, many in awe, most in surprise. A quick nod and he was off after the pair, shuffling to catch up.

It was quiet until they reached the second floor, when Harry finally had to speak up. "You pick your moments to show you're a Gryff, but when you do… wow. Careful you don't bruise your legs with those big brass ones that just dropped back in the hallway. OOF!" Harry's less than subtle joke to Neville earned him a sharp elbow to the ribs from Hermione.

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It had been orders from Madame Pomfrey that finally had Harry and Neville leave the infirmary as dinner was being served soon. Sitting in their usual spots near the end of the table they'd taken up to help keep an eye on their surroundings, Harry glanced up when he heard Neville let out a short laugh. Brow raised, he glanced around the head table, a grin crossing his face as he realized what it must have been that got Neville. "Snape still hasn't come out of his office, I guess. Either that or he's up in Dumbledore's office whinging."

"THERE HE IS!"

Both boy's heads snapped over to the entrance of the Great Hall, seeing the Twins heading their way. Harry sighed, head dropping to hang over his plate. "Oh no. I can't take another celebration with them parading me around the room. The last time they nearly dropped me, after almost smacking my head into the top of the common room door."

Neville laughed more openly at that. "It was pretty funny, though. And you can always look at it as reflex and balance training while Quidditch isn't on this year." He shrugged in response to Harry's glare. "I was just trying to point out the bright siiiii… bloody hell!" Neville was cut off as the redheads bodily picked him up, pulling him over the bench before pushing him to stand atop it.

"Ladies and Gentlemen... and Slytherins… may we present the lion in lamb's clothing…!"

"The Gryffindor with bludgers of steel…!"

"The storm that finally came forth after three and a half years of calm…!"

"The fourth year who managed to get the drop on a certain un-named greasy, robe billowing, dungeon-dwelling apothecary…!"

"NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM!"

The last line, spoken in tandem, was only outdone in terms of volume by the other students' reactions to the very public endorsement of the former Gryffindor wallflower. The Twins each hooked a leg, walking around with Neville perched rather unsteadily on their shoulders together. Neville did not look entirely comfortable at first, though the applause and cheers soon seemed to open him up. Waving to students as they passed, the celebration was suddenly cut off as a group of students parted to show Professor McGonagall standing between two of the tables.

Fred and George managed not to drop Neville entirely, though his descent to the floor did come quite suddenly. He managed to keep himself upright by grabbing onto Seamus's shoulder even as the Irish lad tried to get further away from their head of house.

McGonagall stood quietly, only her eyes moving as she looked from one twin to the other, then to Neville. Fred stood whistling a jaunty little tune, hands in his pockets, not looking directly at the professor. George on the other hand was staring up at the ceiling, mumbling names of constellations in the night sky it currently showed, as if reviewing for an Astronomy exam. Neville simply stared at her, eyes wide in fear and uncertainty.

Taking a step closer, McGonagall's hand came up, a stern finger pointed at Neville. "Mr. Longbottom. Twenty points… to Gryffindor." Several gasps rang out through the room, as well as a few mutters from the Slytherin side. "For keeping an eye on your housemates and protecting them. I told you when you arrived your house would be your family. I am glad to see that some are finally beginning to treat it as such. And I hope to make it easier, along with the other professors, for you to continue doing so." As she turned to walk back to the head table, she stopped for a moment. Reaching back, she patted Neville on the cheek, and some would argue over whether she had actually given him a wink or not. " 'Twas pure class, laddie." And with that she was off.

Everyone stood in complete silence, unable to believe what had just happened. When it was finally broken it came from the Badger's table, as Cedric Diggory raised his cup. "To Neville!"

He was soon joined in the toast by his table and many other students, the Twins marching Neville around and introducing everyone to the new and improved Longbottom.

Harry could only watch and laugh from his spot at the end of the table, shaking his head at how things had seriously gone astray lately. He was soon joined by Cedric, taking Neville's seat. "So… looks like you're a good influence on some of your housemates lately."

Harry laughed loudly at that. "That's a first. I'm often accused of just the opposite. Nah, this has been in Neville all along. He just had to actually let it out."

The spot next to him was soon filled as Krum took a seat. "To impress Transfiguration professor, no small feat. She is… stern," the Bulgarian seeker added, blowing out a huff of breath with a slight shake of his head.

Cedric and Harry glanced at each other before Cedric leaned in closer. "Wait… is Viktor Krum… are you scared of Professor McGonagall?"

Krum quickly shook his head. "Not scared. Respectful. She is intimidating in ways Karkaroff wishes to be."

That simple statement hung in the air for a bit. Finally, Cedric broke the quiet in their area once again, raising his cup. "To McGonagall."

Krum and Harry both quickly raised theirs as well.

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The hospital wing was quiet, only the occasional rustle of pages turning breaking the silence. Hermione blinked as she slowly woke, bringing a hand up to rub her eyes. Remembering where she was, and why, she soon lowered her hand to touch her lips. She was relieved not to feel the long… well tusks was the best way to describe what she'd grown it seemed. But her mouth was still tender from the potions and spells working to reverse the condition.

"Be careful not to mess with them too much. Madame Pomfrey has everything back to normal, but it will still be a bit painful from what all happened."

Rolling over, Hermione confirmed what she had suspected from the spoken warning. Fleur sat in one of the chairs next to her bed, a magazine in hand. "What…?" She winced slightly, opening her mouth to speak normally had brought about a sharp pinch of pain. She tried again, much softer this time. "Why are you here, Fleur? What time is it?"

"They are still eating downstairs. I had a bite and wanted to see how you were doing. Harry said that Madame Pomfrey ran the two of them out of here, they'd been around since you were brought in." Leaning up a bit, she brushed the bushy brown strands that had fallen across Hermione's face as she turned over away. "You look much better than they said. Your healer here certainly seems to be one of the best."

A small scoff escaped, bringing a wince to Hermione's face once more before she took a deep breath. "She has to be. Harry has kept her on her toes since he got here. Although, I believe Neville ended up in here first. He broke his arm during our first flying lesson. That same lesson is what led to Harry playing Quidditch, so he soon caught up and surpassed him with ease."

Fleur laughed softly at that. "I have no difficulty believing that in the least." As she looked Hermione over, her head tilted slightly. "You look different. Something has changed."

Shaking her head quickly, Hermione averted her eyes. "N-no. Nothing's changed. Everything is back to normal."

Tapping a manicured nail to her chin as she thought, Fleur grinned. "It looks good. Not that there was anything terrible before, but I understand. When you have the opportunity, take advantage, no?"

Hermione simply nodded, a slight grin crossing her face so as not to disturb the tender gums. "Please don't say anything. I don't want to appear vain to Neville or Harry."

Shaking her head as she sighed dramatically, the insincerity given away by the grin trying to break through, Fleur sat back in the chair once more. "Hermione, I won't say a word. But believe me, I won't have to. Harry will notice fairly quickly."

Scoffing, once again accompanied by a wince, Hermione shook her head. "Harry won't notice until someone says something. Maybe when Malfoy decides to strut by and preen once again, after the sting of Harry's jibe wears off publicly."

"Oh Hermione. Trust me. Harry will notice. He is a very caring person. He even learned to say hello to me in French, if you remember." Patting the younger girls hand once again, Fleur moved to stand. "I must get back to the carriage. I will see you all in the morning for petit déj'." Leaning down she kissed her friend on the cheek before turning, seeming to glide out of the infirmary with a small wave tossed behind her once she reached the door.

Laying back once more Hermione blew out a shuddering breath. One night in the infirmary and she would be back amongst the students, fodder for the Slytherins and whatever cruel reminder Malfoy and likely Parkinson were working on. She rolled back over with a non-commital shrug, picking up the reading material Fleur had left. "'Helpful Charms for Teen Witches?' As if a Veela actually had need of anything in this… oooh! 'Five Tips to Tame Tangled Locks'." Hermione read on, having to finally admit to herself that there might be some use in the gossip and fashion rags that her dormmates were always going on and on about.

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Sitting across from the newly crowned most popular Gryffindor in the school, Harry rolled his eyes as someone else walked by, slapping Neville on the back and offering congratulations on yesterday's feat. "Was it this annoying whenever people were kissing my arse for the first task? If so, I'd like to apologize for you having to put up with that."

Neville laughed so suddenly pumpkin juice nearly shot from his nose. Coughing into his napkin to try and clear the airway, he gave a quick two finger salute to his friend. "You get used to it. I've had plenty of practice ever since first year learning to navigate your massive ego and its fluctuations."

Harry's eyes narrowed at that, gesturing with his fork in a possibly threatening manner. "I don't think you washed your hands after that Expelliarmus. Some Snape germs seem to have rubbed off on you. Perhaps a quick Scourgify? Or we let Filch fire up that pot of boiling oil he always reminisces so fondly about?"

Before any more could be bantered about, Hermione and Fleur arrived. Hermione sat beside Harry, Fleur taking the seat across from her by Neville. "Oh, my apologies Monsieur Longbottom. Were you perhaps saving this seat for one of your many adoring fans? From what I have heard there was quite a celebration here in the Great Hall after I left." Grinning at her three friends, Fleur quickly feigned the countenance of an adoring fangirl, fluttering her lashes as she leaned closer to Neville.

It was Harry's turn to nearly snort pumpkin juice through his nose now, as Hermione did her best not to react. The smile trying to break free undermined her attempt.

A flash of fear crossed Neville's face as he seemed ready to slip back into his old ways, staying out of the spotlight and keeping quiet. That stopped suddenly though as he seemed to make himself sit up a bit straighter, turning to look at the fawning Veela. "Miss Delacour, having you in that seat can only add to my growing legend. By all means, please stay right here."

This was simply too much for the others as Hermione lost the war to hold in her laughter, her head soon laying across her forearms on the table as she giggled madly. Harry fell to his side on the bench, clutching his ribs as the guffaws burst forth from seeing the shock on Fleur's face from Neville's successful volley of her teasing.

Quickly gaining control of her expression once again, Fleur began to pick several items to put on her plate. "Very well played, Neville. I can see the stories were not embellished too much."

"Thank you, Fleur. I appreciate the opportunity to practice and strengthen my new found resolve." He couldn't stop smiling as he finished a bite of his toast, washing it down with a sip from his cup before kicking at Harry under the table. "Sit up, you're embarrassing everyone here. It wasn't that funny."

Struggling to pull himself upright as he was still laughing some, Harry kept nodding his head. "Yes… yes it was! Even Hermione agreed, she's still giggl…" Glancing over for some support, Harry stopped short in his thought. Something was different. His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked her over, unable to figure out just what had changed from her profile.

Feeling his gaze, Hermione continued eating for a moment under constant scrutiny before she finally had to turn and face him. "Yes, Harry?"

"Something's different." He was so busy looking he didn't notice Hermione's glance to Fleur, or Fleur having to hold back a grin. "You look different. Not much, but something has… your hair. Your hair isn't quite so… wild." Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, not that she never did that. But even still it would usually be flared out still, bushy and wild and noticeable. "Your hair isn't quite so wild as usual."

"Well, I found a few tips in a magazine to help me keep it a bit more manageable. Does it look too strange or something?" Her hand came up, subconsciously patting at the tamed man.

Harry shook his head quickly. "No, not at all. It looks very nice."

The compliment made her smile. "Well thank you, Harry."

At that moment he realized what it was that was nagging at him. When she smiled it became clear. "Oh, I see. Did Madame Pomfrey… go too far when she fixed the curse damage?"

Hermione's cheeks reddened even more now as she realized Harry had caught on, quite quickly, to the main difference. "No. She merely brought up that since she was already fixing them and I would be in some slight pain anyway, it would be an ideal opportunity if I wanted to make some adjustments. Do they look awful?"

"Oh no, not at all. You look very pretty. Well I mean, you've always looked pretty, but now you look… relaxed. Or maybe content. Yes, I think that's it. You look content. You're not trying to hide them. You never needed to, I told you that. But no, you look very nice, Hermione." Tucking back into his breakfast and continuing a conversation with Neville from before the girls arrived, Harry missed the glances passing between them.

Hermione's face was a mixture of elated grinning from Harry's compliment and agitated glowering at the smug look on Fleur's face. "Tais-toi, Fleur."

Many stopped to look over and see what it was that had the normally composed Veela laughing quite loudly in the middle of breakfast, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

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It had been such a promising day. The night before was light and fun, filled with celebration and joy over Neville's newfound celebrity. Hermione was healed up and seemed a little more carefree. Well, relaxed, Hermione would never be carefree. Her mind was too analytical for such a thing. And then McGonagall had caught him in the corridors after a class and reminded him about his duties as a champion at the upcoming Yule Ball.

"I have to dance. I have to dance at the ball. I don't know how to dance, for a ball or any other way."

Hermione and the others watched as Harry plucked yet another strand of grass from the ground in front of him, leaned against the fountain in the school courtyard. She sighed as he rolled along on his quiet tangent, acting as if he'd been told he was facing charges for outing the wizarding world to muggles. "Really Harry, it's not that bad. Dancing is quite simple, I'm sure with some practice we can have you ready in very little time."

Fleur nodded. "I will assist. One aspect of being the daughter of an important man in the French Ministry, we were pulled along to many balls and dances. It will be fine. You'll be able to dance freely without endangering your partner's toes."

That brought a chuckle from all three, though Harry still looked down. It did bring up something important though, as Hermione reached out to tap him on the shoulder. "This does bring a certain need to mind, Harry. Have you asked anyone to be your partner to the ball yet?"

His head lifted, eyes widening slightly. "Well… no. But I figured… it seemed obvious that I would ask… No, you're right. This should be done properly." Rising to his feet, Harry glanced around the courtyard, seeming to muster up his courage as he mumbled something to himself, eyes shut tightly. Opening them, he stepped in front of Hermione. "Hermione Granger, would you honor me by attending the Yule Ball with me?"

Neville smirked, Hermione gaped, and Fleur smiled softly though it didn't seem to reach her eyes. As Hermione's mouth opened and shut, she finally managed to get her train of thought back on track. "Harry, are you sure? I mean, I'm sure there are many girls in the school who would want to be your date to something like this."

"And none of them are as important to me. None of them have stood by me through everything. None of them are my best friend. I can't think of anyone I'd rather spend the evening with than you, Hermione. Why would I want to go with anyone else?" He shrugged, the look on his face showing his thoughts on such a matter.

Hermione quickly nodded, rising to her feet. "Well then, I would love to accompany you to the Yule Ball, Harry." Deep down she had to wonder if Harry had any idea how meaningful those words had been, or if he had simply managed to stumble blindly into saying the perfect thing? Either way, she wasn't going to argue any further.

Unbeknownst to her, their French friend was thinking along the same lines as she was happy for the two. She was disappointed to be honest, hoping that possibly... But she'd had a feeling it would go this way. "Congratulations to you both. I can only hope an agreeable choice asks me before too long. Most of the boys here are easily swayed by the passive Allure, I can only imagine how it will be affected by a goal such as a date to the ball. Several have already attempted, one even managed to speak."

As they spoke over that very topic Neville glanced off to the side, something in his peripheral grabbing his attention. Ron Weasley seemed to sway drunkenly as he slowly walked from the alcove, heading towards the fountain, his eyes locked directly onto Fleur. Several other boys of various houses and years were all wandering around the courtyard, repeatedly glancing towards the Beauxbatons' Champion. Part of Neville wanted to simply stay out of this, the old and timid voice he'd always listened to for years. But another part, growing stronger lately, was telling him differently.

Before Ron was able to speak, Neville stood and stepped in front of Fleur, hands clasped behind him as he stood upright, matching the older girl's height. "Miss Delacour, I was wondering if you would do me the honor of attending the Yule Ball with me?"

All three stared at him in shock at the sudden question. Fleur studied his face for any sign of being affected, but he seemed in full control of his faculties. It was then she noticed the redhead several yards behind Neville and she realized why he suddenly asked. A smile formed as she nodded. "I would be honored, Monsieur Longbottom. Thank you."

Seeing their former acquaintance clued Harry and Hermione into the situation, both grinning and congratulating Fleur and Neville on cinching things up nicely. Only Hermione was in the right spot to hear Ron muttering about the "bloody squib" as he stalked away, his vision having cleared as his face reddened from seeing Neville cut him off.

She turned back to the conversation just in time to hear Harry speaking in a hushed tone to Neville. "Seriously, Nev. Bigger than quaffels. And forget brass, they must be solid gold. Owww Hermione! Pick a different spot, would you? It's starting to bruise up and not healing. Or wear thicker jumpers for those elbows."

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AN: Some of the pieces are falling into place and I'm hoping I'll be able to get this out at a faster pace soon. Hope you enjoy, and don't forget to share and review.