The next week flew by rather quickly for Hermione—up until Harry's name came out of the Goblet of Fire, that is. They had all been laughing and joking, and then everything had changed. She had felt the stares, and heard the whispers. She had pushed him forward and urged him to speak with Dumbledore, but now she realized that maybe that wasn't the wisest decision. Maybe if she had told him to run the other way, she would have her two friends by her side at that moment. Maybe everybody would have just accepted that it was a mistake, and he wouldn't have had to compete. But now, she had no idea what was going on, and Ron was off sulking ahead of her, just as he had been when he watched Harry walk up to the front of the Great Hall. She knew there was something that she should be saying to him, something about how there was no way Harry could have entered, but she couldn't find the nerve to do it.
Her heart was racing as she made her way up to the common room with the rest of the Gryffindors, occasionally looking back over her shoulder, hoping that Harry was making his way through the crowd to explain to her and Ron what was going on, but to no avail. By the time she got to the common room, her housemates were extremely rowdy, ready to celebrate their house having a victor. She needed a moment to herself, just to process what was happening.
She pushed her way past the throng of Gryffindors that was blocking the entrance to the girls' dormitories until she could finally make her way up the stairs. She closed the door behind her, collapsing onto her bed. As the other girls were downstairs, celebrating, no doubt, she finally had the space she needed. Her thoughts began to rush into her head faster than she was able to process them.
Harry was chosen to be a champion. Harry was going to be in a competition in which he could die. Harry was strong, and brave. Harry could fight whatever was going to come his way. But Harry was only a fourth year. Harry shouldn't have entered. Harry couldn't have entered. Then how had Harry become entered?
She wanted to scream out in frustration at the sea of thoughts trapped inside her mind. "Work!" She nearly shouted aloud, as she had decided the best course of action was to focus all of her energy into her Arithmancy homework. Numbers and science. That would calm her down. Pure logic. Nothing that she couldn't explain. She smoothed out her parchment on the table in the corner of the room, and set to work immediately. She had finished nearly half of her work when a gaggle of girls came bursting into the room. Between all the giggles, Hermione had lost her train of thought. She rolled her eyes, collected her things, and began to make her way down the stairs into the Gryffindor common room.
She walked into the nearly empty common room, and noticed the Weasley twins huddled in a corner mumbling over a piece of paper, occasionally glancing around to see if anyone was listening to their conversation. Fred offered a small smile to Hermione as she spread her work out on a table in the opposite corner. Her heart skipped a beat as she made eye contact with the older boy, and she quickly sat down to begin the work she intended on finishing. However, after all the shuffling and distractions, her thoughts came racing back to her. As she looked down at her parchment, her vision began to blur. She took a sharp breath in, and let it out a few seconds later, much shakier than she normally would have.
Harry could die. Harry won't die. Harry could die. Harry won't die. But, Harry could die.
She sunk her head down onto her crossed arms on the table and exhaled deeply. A few stray tears came running down her cheeks. She tried to stay as still and as quiet as possible, so that the stragglers in the common room wouldn't know she was upset. Besides, they'd all just point and laugh anyway. But before she could think about that, she heard the chair next to her scrape along the floor, and felt a rough hand on the bit of her arm that wasn't entirely covered by her bushy hair. She lifted her head ever so slightly, and found herself looking into the eyes of Fred Weasley.
"What are you d-doing?" She asked softly, not bothering to push him away, but not bothering to move any closer either. She glanced around the room and noticed everyone else had cleared out.
He offered a soft smile and rubbed his thumb across her skin lightly. "You seemed upset. I didn't want to leave you down here all alone." He sucked his bottom lip in for a moment, and then inched his chair a few inches closer to hers, so they were side by side.
She looked down, sniffling a bit and avoiding his eyes. "I'm alright, don't worry."
He let out one, soft "ha," and then gently lifted her chin up to meet his gaze. "I know you're not, 'Mione. Talk to me, please."
At his words, she suddenly broke down. It wasn't as if anybody else had asked her how she was, now, or ever, really. She let the tears fall freely down her cheeks, and her sobs were soon muffled as Fred pulled her small frame against his much bulkier one. He rubbed her back gently and rested his chin on top of her head, cooing occasionally as she babbled on, attempting to understand the jumbled mess of words that was escaping her mouth.
"Harry … chosen ... champion … on his own ... supposed to ... could die ... I don't want … die … scared, Fred…" He pulled her in closer at her last words and closed his eyes, thinking for a moment.
"'Mione? How many times has somebody tried to kill Harry before? And how many times have they succeeded? He's not going to be all alone, love. You know how you help them on their potions essays sometimes?" She scoffed a bit and he smiled, happy to hear that the sobs had generally stopped. "Oh don't act all innocent! I've seen you, but that's not my point. Point is: You're going to help him, just like you help him then, and I know it. And with your help, Harry is basically unstoppable. And you really think Dumbledore is going to let anything happen to Harry? Hogwarts was probably the safest place to have had this tournament. But if you insist, I will march into Dumbledore's office right now and tell him I volunteer myself to take Harry's place. No, no! Don't try and stop me! I'll brave whatever danger lurks within these challenges, and I will tackle it head on, like a true Gryffindor!" He heard her laugh against his chest and watched as she pulled back and wiped her eyes. He gently reached out and wiped away a few stray tears, and then took her hand, leading her over to the couch. "You stay here, I'll be right back."
She watched as he made his way out of the portrait hole and it swung shut behind him. She thought she heard the Fat Lady call out after him, but that just made her smile a bit more. She curled up against the arm of the couch, and rested her head against it. He was right, after all. Harry would be okay. Dumbledore wouldn't let anything happen to him. He never had before. Her eyes began to droop, but she tried to force herself to stay awake, as she knew Fred would be back any moment. But then her thoughts began to wander, and the crackling fire in front of her was just so comforting. Before she knew it, she was fast asleep, before Fred had even returned.
When he came back, he smiled at her sleeping figure. He set down the two hot chocolates he had stolen from the kitchen, and pulled a blanket off of the back of an arm chair, draping it on top of her. He watched her shift and pull it around herself in her sleep, and he chuckled softly, sitting down in said armchair. He sipped at his hot chocolate, and kept a watch over the sleeping girl until the morning, making sure she was no longer upset. When morning came, and light came creeping in the window beside the couch, he stretched, and stood up, before they could create a scene. He watched as the morning light crept across Hermione's sleeping face, waking her up. When he saw her stretch, he made his way up their stairs, not letting her know that he had enjoyed playing the part of her protector through the night.