13. First Task
A/N: I apologize for the delay. Here it is, though. Hopefully, the next chappie won't take so long to write.
Fully rested and feeling much better, Tracey left the hospital wing Monday morning. The school grapevine was teeming with rumors regarding how Harry Potter had managed to not only cross the Age Line surrounding the Goblet of Fire, but also how he'd managed to ensure that he would be named a champion. Tracey refused to speculate, informing her friends that it was pointless, because it was likely that their guesses were wrong anyway. Plus, Sandra had taught Tracey that gossiping about others was not nice and she should avoid it at all costs. Consequently, Tracey buried herself in her studies, becoming absorbed in the intricacies of learning magic. Her housemates learned not to bother discussing Harry Potter competing in the Triwizard Tournament with her. They'd only get monosyllabic answers out of her.
Tracey was unaware that her father kept an eye on her through various means, including the Head of her House. Not that Minerva truly minded. The young girl had somehow managed to worm her way into the Deputy Headmistress's heart. Minerva looked upon several former students as her children, but never had one slipped so quickly and easily into her heart as Tracey Cooper. Minerva had spent more than one evening curled up in an out- of-the-way corner of the Gryffindor common room, watching the auburn head bent over book, parchment, and quill, doing her homework while other students played and generally ignored their homework.
These evenings in the common room also provided Minerva with an opportunity to observe Harry Potter. What she saw worried her and she spoke with Albus about it. "The 'Gryffindor Trio', as Severus likes to call them, seems to have become a Duo, Albus."
"Duo, my dear?" Albus asked, gazing at his fiancée over the tops of his half-moon spectacles. "What do you mean?"
Minerva sighed and, removing her square spectacles, massaged the bridge of her nose. "Apparently, Harry being allowed to compete in the tournament has caused Ron to abandon him."
"I am assuming that Hermione has not," Albus commented after a moment. "Considering that you mentioned that they were a Duo."
Minerva nodded, slipping her spectacles back on and rolling her shoulders restlessly. "Yes, Hermione, at least, has stood by her friendship with Harry. I imagine it is a relief to the boy, although the hours in the library may not be to his liking."
"Indeed," Albus chuckled, and then studied Minerva closely. "My dear, is something bothering you?"
Minerva blinked and quickly stopped rubbing the back of her neck. "No, Albus, nothing is wrong."
"Of course," he answered amiably. "That is why you have not sat still for ten seconds since you came in tonight."
She sighed. "I am afraid that I am rather tense tonight, Albus. Nothing seems to help."
"Perhaps I can," he suggested, rising and moving to stand behind her chair.
"Oh, no, Albus, you--" her protests were cut short when he began to knead her neck and shoulders. "Oh. Oh, my."
He chuckled as her head fell forward. "You were saying, my dear?"
"Oh, that feels good, Albus," she murmured, her eyes falling closed. "I give you hours to stop."
He chuckled again, amused by her reaction. "As you wish, Minerva."
"Mm," she murmured, sighing contentedly as the tension drained from her neck and shoulders.
He smiled as his long fingers worked their magic. For several long moments, neither said a word. Finally, he asked, "My dear, are you purring again?"
"Mm-hmm," she murmured, her eyes fully closed now.
He kissed the nape of her neck. "My work here is done."
"Not quite yet, Albus," she countered, rising and turning to face him.
He raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling merrily. "What do you mean, my dear?"
"I mean you forgot something," she told him, moving around the chair in which she'd been sitting.
"Oh?" He smiled, slipping his arms around her waist.
She nodded, her arms winding their way around his neck. "Mm-hmm."
"And what have I forgotten, may I ask?" he asked, quite happy to have her in his arms once again.
By way of a reply, she tilted her chin up just a tiny bit and kissed him warmly. He gladly returned the kiss, his arms tightening around her. This was one perk of being engaged that he rather enjoyed.
* * *
Time sped by and November 24th dawned cold and clear. Tracey bundled up in her warmest cloak, scarf, and gloves. She really did not like the cold. She sat huddled between Annie and Lynne in the stands, the others in their year surrounding them. None of the students knew what the upcoming task would be, but Tracey could hear whispered conversations debating what dangerous task the champions would be set to perform. When she learned what it was, Tracey very nearly fainted. Dragons. Real, live dragons. Somehow, the fairy tales had made dragons seem wonderful and romantic, far from it. They were large and fearsome, with obvious bad tempers. Tracey would have given anything to get away from the dragons, but she wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. She sat quietly between her friends and watched as Cedric Diggory faced the Swedish Short-Snout, Fleur Delacour faced the Welsh Green, Viktor Krum faced the Chinese Fireball and Harry Potter faced the Hungarian Horntail. They cheered for each champion, although more loudly for Cedric and Harry, for obvious reasons.
Glancing occasionally over at the judges' table, where her father sat with the other judges, Tracey was almost sure that his serene expression was a mask. She'd come to know him well enough to sort of guess his moods and he seemed tense to her. Not that she blamed him. Two of his students were facing dragons and he could do nothing for them. Tracey glanced over at her future stepmother several times as well. Her tension was easier to see. She stood ramrod straight, her lips in a straight line, and her hands occasionally twitched, as if she longed to grab her wand and charge in to help her students.
By the time the students headed up to the castle, Tracey's sense of balance was shot once more. Lynne and Annie stayed close beside her, ready to steady her if she was about to fall down. "I hate this!"
"We know, Tracey. Let's get you to Madam Pomfrey," Lynne suggested soothingly.
Tracey resisted. "She's probably busy with the champions. That was a nasty burn Cedric got."
"We can wait by the hospital wing if we have to," Annie retorted, pulling on Tracey's arm.
Unable to maintain her balance, Tracey was practically dragged through the corridors of the school to the hospital wing. As predicted, there was a sign on the door indicating that Madam Pomfrey was at the First Task. "There. What did I tell you? Let's go."
"I don't think so, Tracey," Lynne and Annie didn't relinquish their holds on Tracey's arms. "We're going to wait right here for her."
Tracey had no choice, but to sit down with her friends. If she were honest, sitting down was better for her balance than standing. They hadn't been waiting long when Madam Pomfrey appeared, looking annoyed about something. "Miss Jones, Miss Cooper, Miss Sanders, what are you doing here?"
"I'm having the same problem I had before, Madam Pomfrey," Tracey explained, carefully getting to her feet, the other two ready to steady her if she lost her balance again.
Madam Pomfrey nodded and ushered Tracey into the hospital wing, pointing at one of the beds. Tracey sat still as Madam Pomfrey cast a Diagnostic charm. She terminated it with a sigh. "Well, Miss Cooper, it would appear your body is having trouble adjusting to the cold here in England."
"What do you mean?" Tracey asked, glancing at her friends. They shrugged.
Madam Pomfrey bustled over to the cabinet where she kept her potions. "What I mean, Miss Cooper, is that prolonged exposure to the cold, along with lots of noise, triggers migraines for you."
"I've heard of those, but I'm not quite sure what they are," Lynne commented thoughtfully.
Tracey shrugged as Madam Pomfrey returned with two vials and an empty goblet. "Essentially, a migraine is very intense headache, Miss Jones. It can be triggered by various things, depending on the patient."
"And, in my case, it's a combination of cold and noise," Tracey commented, watching as Madam Pomfrey carefully mixed the two potions or solutions.
The mediwitch nodded as she swirled the concoction in the goblet. "A combination of a soothing solution and headache potion will take care of it, but the proportion of the two is dependent on the patient."
"This is the first time I've had a migraine, though," Tracey pointed out as Madam Pomfrey examined the mixture.
She shook her head. "No, Miss Cooper, you had a migraine the last time you came in, but I had to use a different treatment."
"Oh." Tracey reluctantly took the goblet and drank the contents. "Oh, yuck."
Madam Pomfrey took the goblet and vanished it with a flick of her wand. "What did you expect, Miss Cooper? Pumpkin juice?"
"No, Madam Pomfrey, but something more pleasant would have been nice," Tracey replied with a sigh. "Thanks anyway."
When Tracey made to get off the bed, Madam Pomfrey stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "Try to find somewhere quiet and warm to spend the rest of the day."
"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," Tracey nodded and slid off the bed.
The three girls left the hospital wing. "Considering Harry's performance today, I doubt the common room is going to be very quiet."
"I know where to go," Tracey answered thoughtfully. "Would you two mind letting me go on my own, though?"
Annie and Lynne exchanged glances. "Are you sure you'll be fine, Tracey?"
"Yes, Lynne," Tracey replied with a smile. "I'm sure."
Both girls looked doubtful. "Well, all right, then, but please make sure to come back in time for bed."
"I will," Tracey assured them, watching until they'd turned a corner before heading down to an office two floors below.
Feeling a little dizzy by the time she reached the office, Tracey raised a hand and knocked on the door. "Come in."
"Hello, Professor McGonagall," Tracey greeted the professor after slipping into the office. "I have a slight problem."
A/N: I apologize for the delay. Here it is, though. Hopefully, the next chappie won't take so long to write.
Fully rested and feeling much better, Tracey left the hospital wing Monday morning. The school grapevine was teeming with rumors regarding how Harry Potter had managed to not only cross the Age Line surrounding the Goblet of Fire, but also how he'd managed to ensure that he would be named a champion. Tracey refused to speculate, informing her friends that it was pointless, because it was likely that their guesses were wrong anyway. Plus, Sandra had taught Tracey that gossiping about others was not nice and she should avoid it at all costs. Consequently, Tracey buried herself in her studies, becoming absorbed in the intricacies of learning magic. Her housemates learned not to bother discussing Harry Potter competing in the Triwizard Tournament with her. They'd only get monosyllabic answers out of her.
Tracey was unaware that her father kept an eye on her through various means, including the Head of her House. Not that Minerva truly minded. The young girl had somehow managed to worm her way into the Deputy Headmistress's heart. Minerva looked upon several former students as her children, but never had one slipped so quickly and easily into her heart as Tracey Cooper. Minerva had spent more than one evening curled up in an out- of-the-way corner of the Gryffindor common room, watching the auburn head bent over book, parchment, and quill, doing her homework while other students played and generally ignored their homework.
These evenings in the common room also provided Minerva with an opportunity to observe Harry Potter. What she saw worried her and she spoke with Albus about it. "The 'Gryffindor Trio', as Severus likes to call them, seems to have become a Duo, Albus."
"Duo, my dear?" Albus asked, gazing at his fiancée over the tops of his half-moon spectacles. "What do you mean?"
Minerva sighed and, removing her square spectacles, massaged the bridge of her nose. "Apparently, Harry being allowed to compete in the tournament has caused Ron to abandon him."
"I am assuming that Hermione has not," Albus commented after a moment. "Considering that you mentioned that they were a Duo."
Minerva nodded, slipping her spectacles back on and rolling her shoulders restlessly. "Yes, Hermione, at least, has stood by her friendship with Harry. I imagine it is a relief to the boy, although the hours in the library may not be to his liking."
"Indeed," Albus chuckled, and then studied Minerva closely. "My dear, is something bothering you?"
Minerva blinked and quickly stopped rubbing the back of her neck. "No, Albus, nothing is wrong."
"Of course," he answered amiably. "That is why you have not sat still for ten seconds since you came in tonight."
She sighed. "I am afraid that I am rather tense tonight, Albus. Nothing seems to help."
"Perhaps I can," he suggested, rising and moving to stand behind her chair.
"Oh, no, Albus, you--" her protests were cut short when he began to knead her neck and shoulders. "Oh. Oh, my."
He chuckled as her head fell forward. "You were saying, my dear?"
"Oh, that feels good, Albus," she murmured, her eyes falling closed. "I give you hours to stop."
He chuckled again, amused by her reaction. "As you wish, Minerva."
"Mm," she murmured, sighing contentedly as the tension drained from her neck and shoulders.
He smiled as his long fingers worked their magic. For several long moments, neither said a word. Finally, he asked, "My dear, are you purring again?"
"Mm-hmm," she murmured, her eyes fully closed now.
He kissed the nape of her neck. "My work here is done."
"Not quite yet, Albus," she countered, rising and turning to face him.
He raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling merrily. "What do you mean, my dear?"
"I mean you forgot something," she told him, moving around the chair in which she'd been sitting.
"Oh?" He smiled, slipping his arms around her waist.
She nodded, her arms winding their way around his neck. "Mm-hmm."
"And what have I forgotten, may I ask?" he asked, quite happy to have her in his arms once again.
By way of a reply, she tilted her chin up just a tiny bit and kissed him warmly. He gladly returned the kiss, his arms tightening around her. This was one perk of being engaged that he rather enjoyed.
* * *
Time sped by and November 24th dawned cold and clear. Tracey bundled up in her warmest cloak, scarf, and gloves. She really did not like the cold. She sat huddled between Annie and Lynne in the stands, the others in their year surrounding them. None of the students knew what the upcoming task would be, but Tracey could hear whispered conversations debating what dangerous task the champions would be set to perform. When she learned what it was, Tracey very nearly fainted. Dragons. Real, live dragons. Somehow, the fairy tales had made dragons seem wonderful and romantic, far from it. They were large and fearsome, with obvious bad tempers. Tracey would have given anything to get away from the dragons, but she wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. She sat quietly between her friends and watched as Cedric Diggory faced the Swedish Short-Snout, Fleur Delacour faced the Welsh Green, Viktor Krum faced the Chinese Fireball and Harry Potter faced the Hungarian Horntail. They cheered for each champion, although more loudly for Cedric and Harry, for obvious reasons.
Glancing occasionally over at the judges' table, where her father sat with the other judges, Tracey was almost sure that his serene expression was a mask. She'd come to know him well enough to sort of guess his moods and he seemed tense to her. Not that she blamed him. Two of his students were facing dragons and he could do nothing for them. Tracey glanced over at her future stepmother several times as well. Her tension was easier to see. She stood ramrod straight, her lips in a straight line, and her hands occasionally twitched, as if she longed to grab her wand and charge in to help her students.
By the time the students headed up to the castle, Tracey's sense of balance was shot once more. Lynne and Annie stayed close beside her, ready to steady her if she was about to fall down. "I hate this!"
"We know, Tracey. Let's get you to Madam Pomfrey," Lynne suggested soothingly.
Tracey resisted. "She's probably busy with the champions. That was a nasty burn Cedric got."
"We can wait by the hospital wing if we have to," Annie retorted, pulling on Tracey's arm.
Unable to maintain her balance, Tracey was practically dragged through the corridors of the school to the hospital wing. As predicted, there was a sign on the door indicating that Madam Pomfrey was at the First Task. "There. What did I tell you? Let's go."
"I don't think so, Tracey," Lynne and Annie didn't relinquish their holds on Tracey's arms. "We're going to wait right here for her."
Tracey had no choice, but to sit down with her friends. If she were honest, sitting down was better for her balance than standing. They hadn't been waiting long when Madam Pomfrey appeared, looking annoyed about something. "Miss Jones, Miss Cooper, Miss Sanders, what are you doing here?"
"I'm having the same problem I had before, Madam Pomfrey," Tracey explained, carefully getting to her feet, the other two ready to steady her if she lost her balance again.
Madam Pomfrey nodded and ushered Tracey into the hospital wing, pointing at one of the beds. Tracey sat still as Madam Pomfrey cast a Diagnostic charm. She terminated it with a sigh. "Well, Miss Cooper, it would appear your body is having trouble adjusting to the cold here in England."
"What do you mean?" Tracey asked, glancing at her friends. They shrugged.
Madam Pomfrey bustled over to the cabinet where she kept her potions. "What I mean, Miss Cooper, is that prolonged exposure to the cold, along with lots of noise, triggers migraines for you."
"I've heard of those, but I'm not quite sure what they are," Lynne commented thoughtfully.
Tracey shrugged as Madam Pomfrey returned with two vials and an empty goblet. "Essentially, a migraine is very intense headache, Miss Jones. It can be triggered by various things, depending on the patient."
"And, in my case, it's a combination of cold and noise," Tracey commented, watching as Madam Pomfrey carefully mixed the two potions or solutions.
The mediwitch nodded as she swirled the concoction in the goblet. "A combination of a soothing solution and headache potion will take care of it, but the proportion of the two is dependent on the patient."
"This is the first time I've had a migraine, though," Tracey pointed out as Madam Pomfrey examined the mixture.
She shook her head. "No, Miss Cooper, you had a migraine the last time you came in, but I had to use a different treatment."
"Oh." Tracey reluctantly took the goblet and drank the contents. "Oh, yuck."
Madam Pomfrey took the goblet and vanished it with a flick of her wand. "What did you expect, Miss Cooper? Pumpkin juice?"
"No, Madam Pomfrey, but something more pleasant would have been nice," Tracey replied with a sigh. "Thanks anyway."
When Tracey made to get off the bed, Madam Pomfrey stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "Try to find somewhere quiet and warm to spend the rest of the day."
"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," Tracey nodded and slid off the bed.
The three girls left the hospital wing. "Considering Harry's performance today, I doubt the common room is going to be very quiet."
"I know where to go," Tracey answered thoughtfully. "Would you two mind letting me go on my own, though?"
Annie and Lynne exchanged glances. "Are you sure you'll be fine, Tracey?"
"Yes, Lynne," Tracey replied with a smile. "I'm sure."
Both girls looked doubtful. "Well, all right, then, but please make sure to come back in time for bed."
"I will," Tracey assured them, watching until they'd turned a corner before heading down to an office two floors below.
Feeling a little dizzy by the time she reached the office, Tracey raised a hand and knocked on the door. "Come in."
"Hello, Professor McGonagall," Tracey greeted the professor after slipping into the office. "I have a slight problem."