Harry was playing with his food and couldn't help noticing that Ron didn't seem particularly hungry either. Not that it really mattered, Ron wasn't talking with Harry.

They wouldn't talk until Harry told him how he had gotten his name in the goblet of fire, Ron had made that perfectly clear. Too bad for him Harry hadn't been involved with the scheme whatsoever, just the apparent victim.

Harry tried his best to swallow down the sinking feeling in his throat. Someone was trying to kill him... again. Whoever it was- probably Voldemort somehow- they were smart and cunning and Harry was now alone to face them.

Ron was an idiot stuck in his own beliefs, and Harry had learned from years of living with the Dursley's there's not much one can do with an idiot who is stuck in their own beliefs. He tried exactly once to explain what was happening and Ron's reaction had hurt enough that Harry wouldn't be trying it again any time soon.

Hermione sat awkwardly between them trying to keep conversation with each of them at the same time. It was painful to watch her try to keep her place, while also attempting to eat breakfast. She hadn't made headway on either of the tasks.

Finally Harry got up, "I'm going to the library, I'll catch up later."

Before Hermione could protest he had scooped up his bag and started across the Great Hall. He needed to study anyway, at least if he wanted to live through this god forsaken tournament.

Alone with his thoughts, Harry's head swam with the possibilities of the first task. What impossible challenge they would force Harry to endure. Memories of getting through the philosopher's stone protection chambers came to mind and Harry's hands started to shake. He had almost reached the library when Harry found his legs refused to walk another step. His mind was encompassed by the fight with the basilisk, he could smell death, the basilisk lunging blindly for him as he ran as fast as he could from the great snake, never running fast enough.

Suddenly it was like the world had become too real. The air felt heavy in Harry's lungs, it was as though he couldn't recognize the feeling of his own body. He looked down at his hands, these were his hands in front of him, his legs were moving under him. They were moving so slowly, too slowly. Harry took in a breath and felt his lungs expand, and horror dawned on him as he realized he couldn't quite fill them.

Harry looked up to find eyes on him, people in the hallway giving him funny looks. A boy Harry couldn't recognize said something to him but Harry couldn't understand the words drowned out by the sound of his heart pumping in his ears. Harry felt his instincts taking over.

When he came back to himself he was in a bathroom. He was splashing water in his face. He was trying to calm down. He was fine, it was going to be fine. He was just going to study.

Study for the first task, the task that people died in, the task he was going to die in. Suddenly the only thought in his head was that it was all going to stop. Life just stopped, no catharsis, no tying up loose ends, no meaning, no anything. It just all stopped. Since the first task was so dangerous there was going to be a few moments like this, of adrenaline and panic and then it would just be over.

He couldn't breath, he tested his lungs again and he couldn't seem to get much air at all. He fell to his knees and his hands hit the ground as he tried to breathe but now his shallow breaths seemed to get no air at all from the room around him. The world was going black, purple and green splotches flew across Harry's vision and he felt sick to his stomach.

Voldemort had given up on the convoluted tournament and was trying to kill him now. Harry was sure of it as his body went hot and cold all over. His arms gave out and Harry felt his head slam into the tiled floor. He couldn't breathe, he knew something had taken hold of him, he couldn't breathe and it was all going to end. His heart was going to stop, his eyes were never going to open-

But then his eyes did open.

He felt something jostle him. Then he could feel arms around him and he looked up to see Neville was knelt in front of him. He had been pushed into a sitting position up against the wall nearest the sinks. Neville gave him a wary smile, "Welcome back. How you feeling?"

Harry lifted his head slightly, "Like shit."

Neville's smile widened the worry leaving his eyes for a moment. "Do you get panic attacks often?"

Harry rubbed his aching jaw, "Do I what?"

Neville rolled his eyes, "Here." He passed him a wooden cup full of water. Harry had half a mind to question him but he didn't. Instead thanking the other boy and drinking the water, almost immediately feeling better.

Neville sat down next to him while he drank and the two of them stayed there for a few minutes. Neville refilling the cup once Harry finished and handing him a second. They spent the time in silence Neville seemed to be thinking.

"Hey Harry, I'm sorry about Ron. I know from your perspective it sounds insane but he's just jealous."

"I'm more worried about my quickly approaching death."

Neville made a noise of approval, "If I were you I would be too."

After a moment Harry spoke again, "It does suck though, the thing with Ron…"

They sat in silence for a bit longer, Harry finishing his second cup while Neville continued to think.

"Well it's almost time for class we should probably be heading."

Harry had his turn to sigh, "Really? Shit okay. Let's go then I don't need Snape on my ass right now."

They stood up, Neville putting the cup in his bag. Harry wondered if he always kept it in there, but didn't have time to ask as they raced back across the castle in the hopes of making it to the dungeons in time.

It was nearly midnight by the time Harry gave up on sleep. He grabbed his broom-newly moved since quidditch was cancelled, bag, and cloak. The castle was dead silent that night and Harry was grateful for his invisibility cloak. He was sure without it he wouldn't have gotten through undetected. He passed McGonagall and Filch on his way out and he was sure to wait a moment before opening the entrance door. He knew the sound would alert them and he wanted to be long gone by the time they reached the door.

Harry stepped out and straddled his broom on the top step flying over the courtyard and the bridge, out into the open air. He made a dash straight for the forest sticking close to the treeline in case the adults really did check the sound. He sat in the top branches of the trees stowing away his cloak and fastening his bag. He sighed trying to calm himself, leaning back to see the stars.

That's when he saw the blur of another flyer, a wide grin spread across his face. He had made sure to wear a hoodie just in case. He flicked up his hood and hopped onto his broom grinning away as he flew into the air.

Harry followed after the flyer copying his every dive. The flyer caught on quite quickly and appeared to be testing Harry. They flew high and feinted low, the dives getting more and more complex. It was the triple axel dive with the 3 foot feint that made the flyer pause.

"You are actually quite good, I dare say I'm impressed and I don't say that lightly." The flyer said keeping their distance but close enough Harry could hear.

"Thank you, you're amazing. I've only seen a few flyers as good as you. I must admit a fair few of them are professionals." Harry would've suspected his flying buddy was Krum if they hadn't been out well before Durmstrang arrived.

The flyer seemed taken aback by the compliment, "I- I would hope so, I'm out here almost every night practising."

Harry mused for a moment, "Really? Well… If you ever need a partner I'd be happy to come out more often."

The flyer seemed to think this over a moment, "I'd like that very much. It's nice to practice with someone as skilled as myself."

Harry could feel something warm in his chest. He was excited to be out flying again and for a whole night he forgot about the tournament, he forgot Ron wasn't speaking to him, he just enjoyed being in the air.