A Perfect World

I own nothing and no one from Harry Potter, it all belongs Jo Rowlings. Many thanks to my beta freedachicken!

Harry had been trying to catch a glimpse of Cho Chang seated over at the Ravenclaw table and had just made rather shy eye contact when an unexpected jab to his side had him missing his mouth by a mile. Pumpkin juice spilled down the front of his uniform wetting his shirt and trousers.

Embarrassed, Harry quickly turned away, hoping that Cho hadn't seen, but the giggles coming from the vicinity of Cho and her friends dashed those hopes. Harry was going to murder Hermione. She'd just made him look like an arse in front of the girl who was featured in his dreams almost nightly, a welcome change from the nightmares that usually haunted him.

"Harry... Harry..." Hermione jabbed him once more when he failed to acknowledge her first attempt. "I've been thinking."

And, although Ron was perched a bit further down the Gryffindor table between Seamus and Dean, she and Harry had no problem hearing his comment. "What else is new?" Ron snorted into his spoon piled high with mashed potatoes.

Seamus giggled, the arse, and Dean remained silent.

"Seriously, Ronald," Hermione scolded him. "You could use a bit of thinking, you know. Not all of us have Quidditch on the brain or the all-consuming question of where we can get our hands on the next available biscuit."

Ron shrugged his shoulders, having bigger and better things on his mind, a treacle tart for a start. Ignoring Hermione was the best thing to do when she got all serious and stuff, which was pretty much all the time, so Ron spent a great deal of time ignoring her.

Turning away with a disgusted toss of her head, Hermione focused once more on Harry, who was giving his plate an inordinate amount of attention.

Ron actually wasn't communicating with Harry on a one-to-one basis, not since Harry's name had flown out of the Goblet. When it had happened, Hermione had been as incredulous as the rest of the school, but she'd believed Harry when he had said that he hadn't put his name in the Goblet. Ron had not.

Ron had told Hermione that as Harry's best mate he should have been told, or at least Harry could have helped Ron place his own name in a cup along side of Harry's. Jealousy was ugly business, and it was obvious that Ron was riddled with its poison.

Hermione thought Ron was a dunce of the highest order to believe such nonsense. When she had told him so, he had gotten angry and accused her of siding with Harry. For a few days, he had ignored her as well. To Hermione's singular dismay, she'd found she missed him!

She and Ron had mended fences, but when she had suggested he do the same with Harry, he would not be swayed. Harry was equally as adamant, stating that a true mate would never have believed the garbage spewed by the other students. Hermione had no good argument to Harry's statement because she agreed with him.

Reluctantly, Hermione realized that the idiots she called friends would need to work through this stupidity at their own pace and in their own way. Boys! She maintained good relations with both of them as long as the conversations they had singularly didn't veer toward the other.

Hermione caught Harry stealing what he probably assumed was a covert glance at Cho. Hermione grimaced inwardly. She had no idea what Harry saw in the Ravenclaw, other than her looks. She was stuck up, mean, and from what Hermione had observed in the library, a bit of a slag, too. Moreover, she was as far out of Harry's league as say... Hermione's gaze landed on a certain Hufflepuff, as Cedric was out of hers.

Dipping her spoon in the piping hot potato soup, Hermione spoke again, "I thought we'd practice the Summoning Charm this evening.

"Uh-huh," Harry distractedly replied.

Delicately sipping the fragrant soup, she licked her lips before saying, "We could use one of the old classrooms on the far side of the school. No one will bother us there."

"Right."

Slamming her spoon on the table, Hermione demanded in an exasperated tone, "Do you want my help with this, Harry, or not?"

Harry's messy, black-haired head swivelled around. "Well, yeah," he stated, looking confused, absently rubbing at his scar.

Hermione was filled with remorse. Here she was, virtually Harry's only friend, giving him grief just because he was ogling the girl he had a crush on. What was wrong with her?

If she had to be honest with herself, which Hermione generally was, she was somewhat jealous of the attention that Harry was giving to the older girl. It wasn't that Hermione had feelings for Harry, but it hurt that he'd rather look at Cho than listen to her, especially as she was trying to help keep him alive, for Merlin's sake!

"Sorry, 'Mione." Harry turned toward her giving her his undivided attention. Running a hand through his hair, he continued, "I've been a bit preoccupied."

Hermione gave his hand a comforting squeeze. Dragons were enough to distract any person, and she should stop being so selfish. Harry was her best friend, and he needed her now more than ever. Sure, Ron was her friend too, but it was different with him. More complicated. More confusing. And, if there was one thing Hermione couldn't tolerate, it was not understanding something.

Normally, she'd run to the library and research the problem, not leaving until she had the answer or until Pince tracked her down and threw her out. Still, Hermione knew this was different. Research wouldn't cover this particular problem.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Ron leaning in their direction. Probably trying to figure out what they were up to. Well, bully for him! Hermione had no plans of clueing him in. After all, Ron was acting as if he wanted nothing to do with whatever was going on with Harry, so Hermione was going to honour those wishes and try not to look smug about the fact that he obviously was dying of curiosity.

"We'll need your invisibility cloak," Hermione continued, still keeping one eye on Ron. She pushed her bowl away and refused the sweet that Harry had offered after placing a substantial serving of pudding on his plate.

"Um, Hermione, do you think you could, you know?" With a wave of his hand, Harry indicated his damp clothes.

Hermione scanned the area around her to make sure no one was watching before giving a quick swish of her wand while whispering, "Scourgify."

Immediately Harry's wet garments were returned to their pristine and dry appearance.

*************************

Cedric watched in amusement as Granger nonchalantly used a spell that most fourth years were just beginning to master. He was impressed by the ease in which she performed it and no one seemed the wiser.

Here was a witch others seemed to be underestimating; it was a curious thing, considering the professors sang her praises consistently. Oh, he knew that she was intelligent, everyone did, although he'd heard she had an irritating attitude and perhaps that was one of the reasons she was universally avoided by those not Sorted into her own House.

It was a shame really. It was true she wasn't much to look at, and since Cho had made those deprecating remarks, Cedric found himself observing Granger. He noticed how she practically stomped when she walked, especially when in a temper. It didn't even come close to the smooth glide of Cho's, but the movements of Granger's hands and wrists were extremely graceful when she was doing a well-executed spell.

Her hair was a catastrophe, there was no denying it, but he certainly didn't see the need to hex it all off as Cho had suggested. In addition, Cedric really admired how she would lift her pointed little chin high in the air, proclaiming to all that she had dignity and class in the face of whomever, usually Malfoy, was giving her grief. Most girls would have walked away in tears after being called the atrocious names Malfoy tended to spout from his filthy mouth, but not Granger, although it must have been eating her up inside.

She was strong, resilient, and she didn't give a damn what anyone thought of her, or that was the impression she gave off. Cedric wondered what she was really like. He had the urge to find that out first-hand, but that would raise a few eyebrows, and unfortunately, unlike Granger, he did care what people thought. It shamed him, but it was true.

Cedric, from a young age, had felt the pressure to be perfect. Perfect face, perfect actions, perfect grades, perfect athlete, and perfect friends. Cedric had all of those in his life right now, and attempting to befriend Granger would probably jeopardize his perfect little world.

She was a social pariah because people couldn't tolerate her know-it-all attitude. Too many of the other students thought Granger was a suck up, making them all look bad. As if they weren't enough strikes against her, she had to be one of the best mates of The-Boy-Who-Cheated to gain entrance to the tournament. Hell, even Weasley, who had been joined at the hip to Potter since first year, thought he was a cheat!

Granger remained a staunch and loyal friend when most would have dropped Potter like a hot potato with all the gossip and unpleasantness. Disaster dogged that kid's footsteps, and Granger continued to stride right along side him.

Cedric was envious of such diligent devotion and couldn't keep from wondering if his mates would have stuck by him if he'd been walking in Potter's shoes. Would they have turned their noses up at all and sundry, ignored the gossip and innuendo? Would they have grasped his hand in a tenacious grip and marched off pulling him along while blanketing him in safe comfort?

He was envious, terribly so, and yet for all his envy, for all his admiration of her courage and solidarity to Potter in the face of adversity, for all of that... he still didn't have the courage to follow through with what he really wanted to do. And, what Cedric really wanted to do was get to know her better. Nevertheless, he couldn't befriend her, not with the looming possibility that do so, would be the end of all he'd worked so hard to achieve. For the first time ever, Cedric began to question whether being perfect and living in a perfect world was so perfect after all.