Go to the library.

You enter the library, and dump your books on a desk that's tucked away in a corner. You work, half-hidden between the library shelves, and undisturbed by critics. For a while, you're productive.

At one point, though, you look up to see that Viktor Krum has sat at a nearby table. You scowl. It's not that you have an issue with Krum himself. Rather, you have an issue with the gaggle of followers that he seems to attract. As if summoned, four your Hufflepuffs approach the international Quidditch player, giggling. With a barely concealed sigh of exasperation, Krum acquiesces to sign their photos. When they finally walk away, Krum looks down at his book despondently. You understand his anguish – admirers are great only up to a point. You think maybe you should tell him that.