The soldier and the book worm. (Hermione x male reader)

Fools and bigots.

If Y/n thought the rest of the school would take his outburst seriously, he was dead, dead wrong. Not only were he and Harry being harassed but, since he could no longer avoid the rest of the school once he was back at lessons - it was clear that the rest of the school thought they had entered themselves for the tournament.

The Hufflepuffs, who were usually on excellent terms with the Gryffindors, had turned remarkably cold toward the whole lot of them. One Herbology lesson was enough to demonstrate this. It was plain that the Hufflepuffs felt that Harry, in particular, had stolen their champion's glory; a feeling exacerbated, perhaps, by the fact that Hufflepuff House very rarely got any glory, and that Cedric was one of the few who had ever given them any, having beaten Gryffindor once at Quidditch. Ernie Macmillan and Justin FinchFletchley, with whom Harry normally got on very well, did not talk to him even though they were repotting Bouncing Bulbs at the same tray - though they did laugh rather unpleasantly when one of the Bouncing Bulbs wriggled free from Harry's grip and smacked him hard in the face. However, despite the punitive actions taken against Harry, they Hufflepuffs new well enough not to employ the same things against Y/n.

With Ron and Hermoine sandwiching Harry between them, Y/n noted that even Professor Sprout shared in her Houses' disapproval.

Y/n thought it made her an even bigger fool than her house.

Normally, the quartet would be looking forward to Care of Magical creatures with Hagrid, however, the circumstances were anything but normal and it would be the first time the pair would have to confront the Slytherins since Y/n and Harry had become champions.

Predictably, Malfoy arrived at Hagrid's cabin with his familiar sneer firmly in place.

"Ah, look, boys, it's the champions," he said to Crabbe and Goyle the moment he got within earshot of Harry. "Got your autograph books? Better get a signature now, because I doubt he's going to be around much longer. . . . Half the Triwizard champions have died. . . how long d'you reckon you're going to last, Potter? Ten minutes into the first task's my bet. And Anderson, well I think you'll make it to the sec- "

Crabbe and Goyle guffawed sycophantically, but Malfoy had to stop there, because Y/n had firmly clasped his fist around Malfoys robes. "Listen here, Draco. I like you, especially when you're alone. Despite your bravado. So I'll tell you this. I have done things that would fuel your nightmares. Do not, ever, push your luck."

"I'm sorry Y/n," The blonde muttered, barely audible. There was a deep sense of guilt in his eyes when Y/n released him. Saved from further embarrassment, the class's attention snapped to a noise from the edge of the forest.

Hagrid lumbered around the corner with precariously balanced crates, each containing a very large Blast-Ended Skrewt. To the class's horror, Hagrid proceeded to explain that the reason the skrewts had been killing one another was an excess of pent-up energy, and that the solution would be for each student to fix a leash on a skrewt and take it for a short walk.

"Take this thing for a walk?" Malfoy repeated in disgust, staring into one of the boxes. "And where exactly are we supposed to fix the leash? Around the sting, the blasting end, or the sucker?"

"Roun' the middle," said Hagrid, demonstrating. "Er - yeh might want ter put on yer dragon-hide gloves, jus' as an extra precaution, like. Harry - you come here an' help me with this big one. . . . "

Hagrid's real intention, however, was totalk to Harry away from the rest of the class. He waited until everyone else had set off with their skrewts, then turned to Harry and said, very seriously, "So - yer competin', Harry. In the tournament. School champion. "

"One of the champions," Harry corrected him.

Hagrid's beetle-black eyes looked very anxious under his wild eyebrows.

"No idea who put yeh in fer it, Harry?"

"You believe I didn't do it, then?" said Harry, concealing with difficulty the rush of gratitude he felt at Hagrid's words.

"Course I do," Hagrid grunted. "Yeh say it wasn' you, an' I believe yeh - an' Dumbledore believes yer, an' all. "

"Wish I knew who did do it," said Harry bitterly. "For both my sake and Y/n's."

Hagrid paused, quiet for a moment, before looking over at the boy in question. Standing a little ways off, levitating his Skrewt, white hair tousled by the wind. Harry thought is was almost godlike, how he stood there; sculptured in flesh and muscled, scars defining his face as his piercing eyes, always alert, betray his relaxed stance.

"I think, fer Y/n, it's more difficult." Hagrid started, his words stumbling. 

"How so?" Genuinely intrigued, Harry asked offhanded as he watched the Skrewt beneath him.  

"Well," Hagrid muttered, "fir starters' Y/n has accien' laws, laws tha' hav' been around since Merlins days. Then there's You-know-who, and the Minister.  And then there's his er, prophecy. You got it bad 'Arry, but Y/n...Y/n hides it 

"Hides it?" Harry asked, Hagrid merely nodded. "Hides it how?"

"Behin' a mask. Power, calmness, sho's no emotion...But if you watch 'im, he closes everything around him off. Even if he loves someone."

The pair of them looked out over the lawn; the class was widely scattered now, and all in great difficulty. The skrewts were now over three feet long, and extremely powerful. No longer shell-less and colorless, they had developed a kind of thick, grayish, shiny armor. They looked like a cross between giant scorpions and elongated crabs- but still without recognizable heads or eyes. They had become immensely strong and very hard to control.

"Ah, I don' know, Harry," Hagrid sighed suddenly, looking back down at him with a worried expression on his face. "School champion. . . everythin' seems ter happen ter you and Y/n, doesn' it?"

Harry didn't answer. He had a lot to think about. But yes, Hagrid was right. It seemed to be quite targeted to himself and Y/n.