It was announced that there would be a tournament held at Hogwarts this year.

Knowing that the Triwizard Tournament was renowned to be the deadliest game in all Wizarding History, where it was said champions have died while competing, Hermione knew that no one would past this opportunity to have someone killed and would simply blamed it all on the tournament.

And after the incident in the Quidditch World Cup, where Lord Voldemort's Dark Mark had appeared - the first time it had been sighted after thirteen years - it didn't take a genius like Hermione to deduce that the Death Eaters were already on the move, and Lord Voldemort's loyal followers would certainly use the Triwizard Tournament to find a way to kill her best friend, Harry Potter.

Something Hermione would try to prevent.

She immediately went to the library and started researching.

.

Time flew so swiftly because the next thing she knew it was already October 30 and the delegation from both Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and Durmstrang Institute finally arrived. She watched them closely as the foreign students filled the halls of Hogwarts Castle.

A feast was held to welcome the delegation, where the Headmaster introduced the Tournament judges and explained the rules.

"Eternal glory! That's what awaits the student who wins the Triwizard Tournament, but to do this, that student must survive three tasks. Three extremely dangerous tasks."

Hermione listened to the Headmaster informed the entire assembly. She was sat between Harry and Ron, but at this angle, however, she couldn't see Harry's expression during the Headmaster's announcement and silently wondered what was going through her best friend's mind in that second.

Extremely dangerous tasks, she thought, staring at the back of Harry's head. I hope your name is not going to end up in that Goblet, Harry…but knowing your luck, someone might make sure that it will.

.

After reading every book that mentioned about the Goblet of Fire and the Tournament, Hermione knew that there must be a way around it - a loophole, if you will - for allowing an underage student to enter the Triwizard Tourment.

.

"What are you doing, Hermione?"

Harry asked when she was up late reading her theories and other possible ways to stop someone from slipping Harry's name on that goblet.

I'm doing whatever I can to stop you from getting killed, Harry. You know… the usual things I do for you every year. Hermione mused silently but instead she simply said, "Studying."

"Studying? Our Professors didn't give us assignments to work on this week and we don't have any test coming up, not with the Triwizard Tournament and all that."

She felt him move to peer over her shoulder and looked at the book Hermione was reading.

Hastily, she snapped it shut and turned to look at her friend.

"Fine, I'm not studying but I'm doing some research." Hermione admitted, meeting Harry's gaze, who was glancing at the closed book on the table and back to her, frowning.

"And…I might probably need some help with it…" She trailed off, staring at him.

"Ah…err…" Harry said, looking like he was about to grimace at the thought of doing research this late. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but I'll pass…I need to get up early and – err…Ron and I are going to see the twins tomorrow when they put their names on the Goblet after breakfast. I hear that they're going to use the Ageing Potion."

"The Ageing Potion is not going to work." Hermione told him flatly, "Fred and George can't bypass the Age Line. No matter what they do. That particular brand of magic will be difficult to fool, most certainly if the Headmaster had cast it."

"Ahh…still, I'll watch how the twins will fare when they do it. So I'd better head off to bed." Harry replied, pausing to look at her. "Aren't you going to sleep yet, Hermione?"

"No, I still need something to look into. It'll probably take me another hour to finish."

"Alright. Good night, Hermione."

"Good night."

Hermione watched him go. She was not really offended that Harry hadn't accepted to help her. She already knew he would decline. The only reason she had suggested it because it would mean that Harry would stop asking question. She hadn't wanted Harry to find out what she had been researching on, or her plans to stop him or anyone from entering his name on the goblet.

After Hermione was certain Harry was in his dorm, she turned her attention to the book and opened it back to the page she was reading.

.

The Goblet of Fire had a loophole after all.

A very small chink to its supposed invincibility.

The Goblet of Fire could be confounded.

Hermione discovered this after reading a footnote in a book called, 'The Great Wizarding Games of the 13th Century'. It mentioned about a wizard who had wanted to enter the Triwizard Tournament and had used a strong Confundus Charm to trick the goblet into believing that there would be four schools competing. He was the only entrant from the false school he had created, which would have safeguard his position as the fourth competitor.

However, the parchment burnt to a crisp before his name could be read by the Headmaster, and thus, he was not magically bound to compete in the Tournament.

The Confundus charm, which the wizard had cast, hadn't been strong enough to completely fool the Goblet, but he had been close, close to entering the Tournament as a possible Fourth Champion.

The wizard was an unsuccessful entrant, but his story made for an interesting footnote though. Something of which only a few might have read if they cared to look at the bottom of the page.

Nonetheless, it was something that made Hermione felt more than a little concern at the possible ramifications if someone, indeed, had discovered this little jewel of an information, and was now using this foreknowledge to further his/her goals.

Given that the book was one of the earliest edition produced, and even sold out with not more than ten copies, surely there could only be a few who have read it, right?

Yet Hermione couldn't ignore even that small possibility.

Someone could be using this same method to ensure that Harry was selected as the Fourth Champion.

"Barty, you will disguise yourself as Alastor Moody and become the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher in his stead. Once the Tournament begins, you will use this chance to cast a powerful Confundus Charm on the Goblet of Fire and trick it into believing that there will be four schools competing in the Tournament. Then, enter Potter's name as the only representative from a false school. This will ensure that his name will be the only one selected as the champion from that school, despite his age. Harry Potter must become the Fourth Champion, and you must aid him into winning and leading him to get the Cup."

.

It seemed… that reading that book hadn't been for naught after all...

After taking everything into consideration, Hermione would simply work under the presumption that someone was planning to confound the Goblet, and put Harry's name in it; albeit that person would require more power to cast the spell successfully.

And the only way to counteract the spell was if Hermione would cast the same spell, but using a blood rune to strengthen her Confundus charm to have Harry's name rejected if it was ever selected from the Goblet of Fire.

But it would also mean using her blood, which was something Hermione was very wary of doing.

The use of blood was considered to be binding in most spell-casting, and she didn't know how the goblet would react if she cast the spell using blood magic.

The goblet was a magical artifact, one that was both ancient and powerful, and something she should not play with.

Yet…if she didn't do anything, Harry could be in danger. She also didn't plan on going to the Headmaster without credible proof of her suspicions.

In the end, despite her better judgement, and after weighing the risks, she concluded that keeping Harry's name from ever being selected far outweighed than the possibility of any negative repercussion on herself.

.

"Harry, can I borrow your invisibility Cloak and your Map?" She asked after she was done preparing.

"Why?" Harry said, frowning.

"I've forgotten something in the library and I needed to retrieve it." She lied.

It was a simple lie which she hoped Harry would easily believe.

"It's past curfew, Hermione." Harry remarked, looking at her pointedly. Isn't that considered to be breaking the rules if you go back in the library at this time? Which, I know, is something you despise of doing?

Hermione could read it in his expression.

"I know, but it's a book that I needed to get for my research, Harry." Hermione explained, quirking a brow and silently telling him. But you can see that this is as an exemption, Harry. You know how I love my books.

Harry just stared at her for a whole five seconds before giving her a wry grin.

"Alright, wait here and I'll get it." Harry said and went to his dorm room.

.

It was well past midnight as she stood in the Great Hall and just outside the Age Line, her palm bleeding from the cut to draw the blood rune while she cast the Confundus charm.

The spell bypass over the Age Line and straight into the Goblet. The blood rune had allowed her to connect to the artifact without any interference from the Age Line. Then, she enforced her will upon the Goblet and ordered it to reject Harry Potter's name if he was ever selected.

Much later, the spell had thoroughly weakened that she nearly collapsed in the staircases on her way to the Gryffindor Tower.

Harry was waiting for her in the Common Room, staring into the fireplace when she stumbled through the portrait door.

He looked up as she entered.

"Did you – " He started saying, but when he saw her face and her lagging gait, he abruptly asked in worry. "Hermione, are you alright?"

Hermione could only nod as she slowly walked towards him, pulling the cloak off her shoulder, throwing the map on the sofa, and then settling down next to him.

Harry scooted aside to give her more space.

"Thanks for lending me your map and cloak, Harry." Hermione said, leaning back on the sofa, closing her eyes and sighing tiredly.

"No problem, Hermione."

Afterward, her eyes fluttered shut, getting sleepy by the second.

There was short pause where she could feel Harry assessing her carefully.

"You should go up to your dorm before you fall asleep, Hermione. The sofa will be uncomfortable to sleep on."

Hermione heard Harry asking her, but the only thing she could manage was an incoherent, "Hn hmn…" and then she drifted off to sleep, completely exhausted from the spell that she had cast.

The next morning, she woke up with a blanket over her and a pillow behind her head, and the lingering scent of fresh grass, parchment and mint.

.

It felt like there was a snake wriggling at the pit of her stomach, its poison burning her insides as Hermione listened to Dumbledore finish his final words regarding the selected Champions.

"Now, let me be clear. If chosen, you stand alone." The Headmaster spoke ominously, his eyes sweeping over the room while the students watched on with undisguised excitement.

The Great Hall was almost filled to bursting. The buzz of infectious anticipation was so palpable that it caused Hermione to fidget on her seat often.

There was a faint throbbing on her palm, where she had made the cut for the blood rune in able to strengthen her Confundus charm.

It was already healed, of course, but the phantom sensation was ever-present. It seemed to have intensified as Halloween night drew near, and now when it finally arrived, the healed flesh on her palm almost felt painful. Almost.

.

The acid in her stomach felt like it had eaten through her stomach linings and straight into her intestines. She was anxious beyond anything than she had ever felt as she watched the fire within the Goblet changed color, from blue and white to blazing red and orange.

A heart beat later, a fiery rush of red flames announced that the Goblet had selected a name. It spat a parchment out , singed at the edges, embers of autumn colors fluttering to and fro around it.

Professor Dumbledore caught the parchment swiftly before it could drift further down the floor.

Hermione's stomach churned as she waited with the rest for the Headmaster to announce the name written in the parchment.

"Victor Krum."

Instantly, Hermione was relieved when she heard the name. She ignored the thunderous roar coming from the Slytherin tables where the students from the Durmstrang Institute was thumping their champion on the back, congratulating him and sending him off with well-wishes, while the rest clapped and the girls screeched.

Hermione just sat there, glancing at Harry and biting her lower lip; overwhelmed with nervousness. Harry was clapping like the others, his eyes following the Bulgarian Quidditch seeker as Viktor Krum left the Great Hall to wait for his next instruction.

From the corners of her eyes, she noticed the fire within the goblet changing color again, readying for the second name to be selected.

Hermione sat up straight, her heart beating fast.

Another rush of red flames and the fire spit out a second parchment. Dumbledore caught it mid-air.

Shortly, Professor Dumbledore called out, "Fleur Delacour."

This time, there was a deafening noise coming from the Ravenclaw tables.

Durmstrang and Beauxbatons have their champions. That only leaves… Hermione thought, her eyes fixed on Harry.

Hogwarts.

Suddenly, Hermione had the irrepressible need to tell Harry about what she had done.

"Harry," she whispered, trying to get his attention.

However, the fire changed color once more and Hermione could feel cold sweat beading at the back of her nape at the sight of it.

"Harry." She reached out and grab Harry's arm.

Harry half-turned towards her, looking startled, but when he saw her frantic face, his brows furrowed in concern.

"What's wrong, Hermione?"

The flames spat out a parchment and Hermione felt like her insides had been immersed in ice, cold water.

"Nothing, I – I just wanted to tell you how much I care about you." she blurted out distractedly just as Professor Dumbledore read out the name from the parchment, "Cedric Diggory!"

Hermione breathed out a sigh, the tight knot in her belly loosening slightly when Cedric's name was called out, until she saw Harry's stunned expression, and Ron, who had heard her declaration, sat there with his mouth agape.

Hermione suddenly realized that both of them must have misinterpreted her words into something else.

She saw something flicker in Harry's emerald orbs.

"What I mean is…" she quickly tried to remedy it, half-listening to the Hogwarts students stomping, shouting and clapping in elation for the Hufflepuff champion, who was now heading to the Trophy room.

"I care about you as a friend." Hermione clarified, gripping the sleeve of Harry's robe and meeting his stare. "And as a friend, I will do everything to –"

The words died out swiftly in her throat. It remained lodged right there when she saw the Goblet shot up flames of pure scarlet.

And Headmaster Dumbledore, who was saying, "Now, that the three champions have been selected. It is time that we –", he abruptly stopped, stumbling away from the flames that came roaring out from the Goblet.

The throbbing in Hermione's palm felt more agonizing than it had been when it was still fresh. She turned her palm up, and there, she saw that her skin had turned an angry red.

Harry had already turned to look what was happening in front, and so did Ron.

And Hermione knew, knew that her suspicions would be proven true when she saw the Goblet spat out a parchment in the air.

It almost looked beautiful when it came out in a shower of red and orange and blue and white embers.

A hush had fallen over the Great Hall as everyone looked at the spectacle, half-awed and half-puzzled. The Headmaster was frowning when he reached out to capture the parchment which had scarlet flames dancing at the edges of it.

The parchment remained unburnt.

The pain in Hermione's palm flared and throbbed, pulsing in time with her heartbeat. Hermione bit her lip to stop from screaming as she looked down and saw, to her absolute horror and alarm, words began to etch itself on her skin, like an invisible knife was carving letters in her palm, prying her flesh open to slowly reveal the red beneath.

Hermione's face contorted in pain as she watched as the letters finally became comprehensible.

HERMIONE GRANGER

Hermione read and immediately stopped breathing. It was with half-shock and half morbid fascination, when Hermione stared at her name, and wondered where the blood had gone to, for there wasn't blood trickling out from the open cuts on her palm.

A grimace was prominently etched on her face, when she distantly heard Dumbledore's voice breaking through the deathly silence and stillness within the Great Hall.

"Hermione Granger?" The Headmaster spoke out loud, his voice raised into a question, completely perplexed.

No, Hermione thought, staring at her palm, which was starting to shake uncontrollably. I'm imagining things. The Headmaster can't possibly be calling my name…

"Hermione Granger." Professor Dumbledore repeated, more clearly now, almost booming and – was that a note of anger she heard in his voice?

Why is the Headmaster calling my name? I didn't put my name on that Goblet. I only confunded it to reject Harry's name... She thought shakily, not looking up from her trembling hands, her eyes unseeing, completely shock at the implication of why her name was called.

At the Gryffindor table, she sensed her housemates gazing at her in absolute stupefaction.

"Hermione Granger," Professor Dumbledore called out again, stern and cold, and Hermione could now distinctively hear the reprimand there as well.

Why am I being called? Why? What's really going on? These thoughts run through her head, and still Hermione remained seated, her feet might as well have been securely chained on the floor.

She could feel the stares on her back and sensed people turning to look at her, shifting in their seats and craning their necks in her direction.

Then, the whispers started. It began low at first, like glowing coals in the fireplace before it lit up and spread like a consuming wildfire across the Great Hall as people finally caught up to what was going on; at what the fourth parchment and her name meant.

Some started to vocalize their protests rather loudly.

"SHE CHEATED!", "WE CAN'T HAVE ANOTHER HOGWART'S CHAMPION!", "SHE'S A MUDBLOOD! SHE CAN'T BE A CHAMPION!", "THAT'S UNFAIR!", "CEDRIC'S THE CHAMPION!", "HOGWARTS CAN'T HAVE TWO CHAMPIONS!"

"What's the meaning of this, Dumbledore?!" She heard the Durmstrang Headmaster barked in a furious voice.

Hermione wished she was a ghost who could simply disappear from the spot. She couldn't believe that this was happening to her.

From all sides, her housemates started to ask. "How are you able to pass the Age Line, Hermione?" It was George who said, and others were asking similar questions.

Hermione couldn't answer them. There was a throbbing at her temple that was hard to ignore, while the blood rushing through her veins was as loud like the roar of a waterfall, nearly drowning the noise around her.

"Hermione?" came Harry's voice from beside her, and she slowly glanced up to see his astonished face and his obvious worry for her, clear as day.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," she whispered. She didn't really know why she was apologizing to him, but she felt like she needed to. Perhaps for not telling him what she did.

Her palm started to bleed freely and excessively, and for some reason, her entire limbs were getting too heavy. Everything about her was cold, like an invisible Dementor was hovering at her side and sucking the life out of her, giving her the kiss of death.

Dark spots began to appear and dance across her vision.

She swayed on her seat and saw Harry's hand reaching out to steady her.

"I did it to keep you safe..." she managed to say before she crumpled in his arms.

"Hermione!"

.

HERMIONE GRANGER

He read the name written on the parchment in dripping scarlet, which Dumbledore knew was blood; the girl's blood.

What have you done, Miss Granger? Dumbledore thought, tucking the parchment within his robes so that he could inspect it later.

Then, he rushed forward, hurrying towards Harry who was holding the unconscious girl and shouting for assistance.

Chaos had erupted around the Great Hall after Hermione Granger had collapsed. People were on their feet and were wondering out loud what was happening.

And if someone were to ask him, Dumbledore would have a hard time explaining things.

"One more curse... my faithful servant at Hogwarts... Harry Potter is as good as mine, Wormtail. It is decided. There will be no more argument. "

.

"Who. Is. That?!" Voldemort asked staring at the picture in the newspaper which Peter was carrying towards him. He could see the Headlines at the front page, but instead of Harry Potter's image like he had expected it to be, there, splattered across the front page was the image of a girl he didn't recognize under the bold caption of, 'The Devious Fourth Champion."

.

A little later, after Voldemort read the entire article written by a journalist named Rita Skeeter, he let out a cold laugh when he realized what Potter's mudblood had done.

Voldemort laughed and laughed and laughed; a cold, cruel rasp of a laugh that even Peter Pettigrew had paled and might have began to question if Voldemort had lost his sanity.

There was no doubt in Voldemort's mind now that the girl had read the same footnote on that particular book he had read years ago when he had still been at school, and she had managed to ruin his plans by that bit of information alone.

He was furious, yes, bordering on murderous, but this turn of events was something which he hadn't foreseen, hadn't anticipated, so much so that he was left to wonder how could a mudblood girl like this Hermione Granger, had manage to upend his plans so swiftly, so absolutely that his mind had drawn a complete blank for a few seconds the first time he stared at her moving image in the front page of the Daily Prophet.

Though there was also a tiny part of him that was curious, silently pondering what the mudblood would do when confronted with the three tasks in the Tournament.

And so when his servant from Hogwarts sent him a letter apologizing and asking how to proceed, since making Harry Potter as the Fourth Champion was out of the question, Voldemort sent him new instructions.

His orders were very clear: to let the girl compete in the Tournament, let her win and take the cup.

His plans hadn't change - not entirely - except he would be using the mudblood as bait to lure Potter instead.

And then… Voldemort would kill her himself for nearly thwarting his plans.

"Why did you do it, Miss Granger?"

"I didn't do it for eternal glory, Headmaster, like everyone seemed to think. I did it to keep Harry safe."

"And as a result you have bind yourself to the Goblet, tied yourself far deeper into the game than any other champions in all the history of the Triwizard Tournament. Do you know what will happen to you if you don't win?"

"I suspect that I won't be able to survive, if I do lose..."

"Yes, there's a high possibility that you will die as a consequence if you don't come up first in all the three tasks."

Hermione fell silent, ice creeping up her spine.

"There's a reason blood runes are not use often, Miss Granger. It can suck the power out of the caster, even their life force, if use irresponsibly. And you, you, had nearly died because of it when the Goblet rejected Harry's name and took yours instead."

"I didn't know that the Goblet would do something like that Headmaster. I thought – I thought…I - I just wanted to keep Harry out of trouble. I knew that someone would use the tournament as a way to hurt him. So I confounded the Goblet...and- and I was simply acting on my –"

"Miss Granger... are you, in fact, in love with Harry Potter? Is that why you did it?"

Hermione would have gaped at the Headmaster's unexpected question, but instead she simply stared at him, speechless.

She didn't love Harry, not in the romantic sense at least. Harry was her friend and she cared for him.

"He's my friend, Headmaster," Hermione answered evenly. "I'm just a little concern for his welfare. That's all."

"More than a little concern, if you don't mind me saying so, Miss Granger." The Headmaster remarked, his eyes twinkling through his half-moon glasses.

Despite herself, Hermione's face flooded with color, embarrassed.

.

"I will help you win, Hermione." Harry told her, "I will help you win the Triwizard Tournament."

"That's against the rules, Harry." Hermione scolded. "I'm not allowed to ask or accept help from others."

Harry just smiled at her.

"And what you did for me wasn't against the rules, was it Hermione?"

A soft flush rose up Hermione's cheeks at Harry's reminder.

"I understand why you did it, Hermione." Harry said to her in a serious tone, "And for that, I am grateful, but also… I'm a bit angry. You should have told me what you were planning."

"I'm so sor-" she started apologizing but Harry shook his head.

"It's already done...Let's focus on what we are going to do with your first task, and at the same time, look for the person who put my name on that Goblet. You and I will do this together…and Ron too, if he can just simply stop skulking. I can't believe he said that to you, Hermione."

Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or get angry at Ron when she recalled his ridiculous reaction after she was proclaimed as the unprecedented Fourth Champion.

Instead, Hermione settled by saying: "I'm as surprise as you are, Harry. Ron has never been…" she paused, biting the insides of her cheek. "Well, I'm sure he'll come around."

And Ron did. He came to apologize to Hermione and she accepted it.

After all, she needed her two best friends by her side once the tournament officially begin with the first task.