"Anya!" Harry hissed, muttering an apology as he almost collided with Professor Sprout. "Anya! I need you to help – what, are you even listening to me?"

"Shh! I need to concentrate." I tilted the scissors to the side, my head following the movement, carefully starting to cut the top of the Flutterby Bush – the poor plant was quivering in fear, unlike Hermione's whose I believe had fell asleep at some point. It was like if it knew I wasn't good at Herbology at all, and its constant whimpers put me on edge every tickling second. "Give me a mo, I just need to cut a little to the -"

"I need to learn how to do a Summoning Charm properly by tomorrow afternoon."

SNAP!

The Flutterby Bush gave a small cry and to my horror, I saw that I'd cut its head – or was the green bush considered a hair? – far too much than I should've.

My eye twitched. I whirled around to glare at Harry. "You couldn't have just waited five more seconds, couldn't you?"

To be honest, I wasn't happy to see him that morning. I actually planned on ignoring him for the rest of the day. It wasn't until yesterday that I learned Harry had gotten to talk to Sirius, and I probably wouldn't have known if Hermione hadn't commented on it in the Great Hall while we were eating. Even Ron, who was sitting far away with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finningan could tell that there was going to be some blood spilled – not literally, of course... unfortunately.

Then again, I exactly wasn't being the most honest, too. I never told him about the dragons, and it wasn't necessary, it seemed, as Hagrid himself had led Harry to them.

"You need to sort out your priorities," I told Harry, after the fifth time he tried to convince me Karkaroff maybe had put his name in the Goblet. I stressed, "Dragons first, Karkaroff later."

The plan was far too simple: Harry was going to summon his Firebolt and do whatever he needed by playing with his strengths. Apparently, Mad-Eye Moody had given him a little push into the right answer, and it was cool and everything as Harry said, but the man was a highly trained officer. To me, it seemed highly suspicious a man with his qualifications to help a fourteen year-old boy.

But I pushed my suspicions aside to help Harry. He wouldn't have listened to me anyways.

All day we spent locked in one of the empty classrooms and placed random objects around depending on the weight and size. They did flew at some point, but never toward Harry, always around him, which I knew frustrated him to no end.

Then, when Hermione had gone to relieve herself, I couldn't help but stare curiously at Harry.

"Out of curiosity, why did you ask me?" when he turned to look at me, I continued, "You knew Hermione and I would've helped you anyways, but why did you ask me specifically to teach you?"

(Why did you ask me? What made you want me to help you, me specifically, when Hermione was next to you and easier to ask)

I thought he wouldn't answer, and he didn't, not until it was two 'o clock in the morning and he had sat down in one of the armchairs of the common room. We were surrounded by tiny objects, from books and quills to sweets and a set of Gobstones spread from side to side.

Of course, because Harry was such a complicated boy, he started in the most unconventional way of all.

"Why James?"

I frowned and looked up from the book in my lap. "Sorry?"

"It's just – you two seem cozy," said Harry awkwardly.

I made a face and said, "We do?" just as Harry said abruptly, "Do you like him?"

"Do I – where's all this coming from?" I stared. I could feel my chest tightening, my heart beating a little quicker than normal. Was I having a stroke or something?

Harry shook his head, standing; he wasn't looking at me.

"I'm just curious."

I bit back a sigh and shook my head in disappointment.

"I like him – but not in that way -" I added hastily when Harry dropped a book, gaping. "As strange as is it going to sound, being around him reminds me of something... I dunno, I can't describe it with words, but he's like an anchor, something to hold on. Have you ever felt like that before?"

Turning around to look at him, I took a sharp intake of breath when the intensity of his green eyes hit me. Harry was watching me as if hadn't seen me before; the book hung uselessly on his hands. He opened his mouth to say something but speech failed him. I tentatively took a few steps closer and took the book from him. I couldn't help but notice curiously how he hadn't looked away from my eyes like he usually did so many times before.

A strange sound emerged from the sofa. I jumped. When I looked at it, I saw Hermione sleeping peacefully there. I had completely forgotten of her. She was mumbling something in her sleep and by the looks of it, it wasn't a pleasant dream – I would bet it was McGonagall telling her she needed to do better in her studies.

Harry seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had been. He shook his head, and said gruffly, "No. Let's keep practicing." And he snatched the book from my hands, turning away from me.

Harry didn't ask about James again; he was once again focused on mastering the Summoning Charm. Except I couldn't help but notice that nearly every object flew more jerkily than before, hitting the walls more strongly and shaking the small portraits that hung in the common room.

"Okay then," I muttered. Before he knew it, I was stalking towards him. Harry's eyes widened as I closed on him with each step I took, and he in return took several ones back, that's it, until he finally hit the wall. He went still when I finally was just a step away from him. Harry held his breath as I invaded his personal space, something I'd learned from James and knew that it was the perfect way to both intimidate and distract any person. Raising my eyebrow, I gave him a condescending look. For a moment, I could've sworn his heartbeat had just increased, so loudly it could have woken up all the rest of Gryffindor Tower, but I shook the thought away. There wasn't time for a distraction.

I swiftly took off his glasses from their perch on his nose and jumped away. I ignored Hermione's voice and Harry's own desperation as he blindly reached out for me. It was a cruel way to get to the mean but it was the quick way for him to learn – just like I did.

"Anya, what do you think you are doing?" Hermione was saying as she watched me in complete horror. Her hands were twitching, and I knew that she was just a moment away from cursing me; whatever little trust she had to me seemed to have vanished in that instant. I didn't care much.

"Come on, Harry." I danced away from him, holding his glasses above my head. "It's quite easy if you try it. Don't you want them back?"

Memories flashed through my head – Carol Davis taking my parents' photograph, burning it along my journal – changing back to when the girls at St. Louise's liked to hide my clothes in the most unlikely places – to the boys from the only school around the neighborhood, when they teased not only me but the rest of the girls. I faltered for a moment, but quickly regained my stance.

"Just say the magic words, wonder boy."

"Accio glasses."

They didn't quiver in my hand.

"Come on, Harry. Say it with feeling."

He pointed his wand at me again.

"Accio glasses!"

"I can't hear you!" I sang.

Harry keep struggling. Each time he got closer, the more I walked away from him, flippantly jumping over from couch to couch and from one side of the room to the other.

"Give them back, Anya!" said Harry. His face was flushed in anger.

"You need them, don't you?" I sat on the edge of a table, the glasses dangling dangerously from my fingertips. One move and they would easily fall and break. "What are you waiting for?" I said slowly, my mouth twitching into a teasing smirk. "After all, you're Harry bloody Potter, you survived Voldemort, twice – technically thrice – and fought Dementors. By now, a dragon shouldn't be difficult. What will everyone say, when you lay down in the field, burning like a moth! They will be all laughing, because you will be running off like a little girl, and then Skeeter will have something new to write. I already see it – the coward who lived, singed by fear!"

Before I realized, the glasses were snatched out my grasp, landing on Harry's hand with an awful crunching sound. Hermione gasped.

"Harry!"

I stared, horrified. His hand was bleeding, and it was my fault. But I was more horrified by the prospect that I didn't feel as guilty as I should.

(It was in moments like these that I hated myself so much, and I still don't understand how he'd looked past that and not care, not walk away from me when I could hurt him more than anyone)

Hermione glanced at me, not moving. She looked like she wanted to run off, but her bravery won over.

"That was cruel," she whispered. She swallowed. "No, that was horrible!" she said, this time more bolder and angry. "What were you thinking? Harry just needed to keep practicing, he would have gotten it eventually -"

I shrugged. "Exactly. Eventually. We don't know if he would have mastered it at all. Desperate times call for desperate measures."

"You are completely mad!"

"Well, Hermione, I'm sorry your simple-minded head doesn't seem to get it but this is reality – this is life! You think is going to be daisies and sunshines out there?" I pointed angrily to the side. "Nothing comes to you in a silver plate. You have to fight with tooth and claw to survive." I walked over Harry and carefully removed the small pieces of glass from his hand. "I mean it. I know what I just did was very wrong, but you must understand, you can't keep going on as if nothing is not happening. Your life is in grave danger Harry and you just seem to not take that into consideration. I know you're going to brush this off. I know you too well. But I still wanted to show you."

With my sleeve, I put pressure on his palm and cleaned with deliberate strokes, gently. When it was clean and only the long gash stood out, I gently passed my thumb over it and muttered under my breath. He gasped when the cut started to join, like if knitted with a very thin needle and invisible thread.

When I was finished, he didn't say anything. I looked anywhere that wasn't his face. I didn't want to look at his angry eyes or the disappointment it would show on Hermione's face. Everything I did wasn't good enough lately, and I wouldn't blame them in the slightest if they gave me the cold shoulder for the next days.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I really am. But my point still stands." Not wanting to feel their patronizing eyes anymore, I went upstairs. That night I cried. I must have scared them, but I was more scared of what I'd done.

Dread filled me as I walked into the Great Hall. It was a wide stark compared to the excited mutters of the students.

Walking in a daze, I sat down next to Neville. I wasn't surprised that when Marie popped down across from me and stole a piece of bacon from my plate.

"Exciting, isn't it?" she said. With her way of talking, I wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic or genuinely enthusiastic about the task. Either way, none of them helped to mellow my forlorn mood.

I could feel Neville's heavy gaze upon me. I looked up.

"He's going to be alright," he assured. His firm tone didn't take me by surprise like it had done before. Instead, I let myself relax – if only a little – and shot him a genuine smile.

Lessons were still scheduled to continue until noon, but all of that time was spent with burning spells and silent hexes thrown at however dared to bother Harry (one would think the Slytherins would've learned their lesson when the sixth box of tissues combusted by some freak 'accident').

We hadn't talked this morning like I expected. But he hadn't exactly turned away from me. He walked with me, chattered with Neville, even gotten to look me in the eye, but he never spoke. It felt like being a shadow, a mere ghost whose presence was acknowledged by sheer luck, and hell, it shouldn't hurt, I should be relieved he wasn't mad, but it did.

And then the time came. Just as I entered, I watched as McGonagall waltzed past me, Harry hurrying after her. The moment we were next to each other, I gently squeezed his hand, quickly letting go. I willed myself to not look back. I hoped he would feel the small note tucked inside his hand safely.

It was Dumbledore who announced the time had come. The food disappeared and the teachers started to led us out by Houses. Professor Burbage was our leader as Professor McGonagall still hadn't returned.

Burbage took us to the edge of the forest, just where James had taking me nights before. Wide and big stands had been magicked, tall enough to not be close to the growling Swedish Short-Snout. The ground in which the dragons would be had been turned into stone and rocks, smartly placed so it gave the Champions the opportunity to hide at any moment.

Just when I was about to climb the stairs leading to the higher stands, I saw a shadow move by the corner of my eye and I stopped short. Looking from side to side, I quickly jumped down and ran toward the trees.

"Hello? Someone here?" I straightened and shrugged. The moment I turned around, I hit something solid and I cursed. When I got a look, I jumped back.

"Holy shit! Sirius, what are you doing here?!"

I looked at him from head to toes. He no longer looked like a walking skeleton. He had put on some weight and combed his long curly hair in a low ponytail. He was wearing Muggle clothes, with jeans and a black t-shirt covered by a velvety black frock coat.

"Shh!" he hissed. I slapped his hand away.

"No, you don't get to shush me! Are you insane? There's gotta be a lot of Ministry officers out there, they could see you! And what the hell are you wearing?"

"I had to see Harry," he said, stubbornly. Then the rest of the words registered and Sirius looked offended. "What do you mean what I'm wearing?"

"That's not the point!" I snapped. "Did you even plan this? Wait... is Lupin even aware of this ridiculous rendezvous of yours?"

He averted his eyes. I moaned. "Sirius!"

"I left a note," he defended.

"That – that's not enough!" I threw my arms to the side in frustration. "For god's sake, Sirius..."

"You're starting to sound like Thea," he muttered.

I froze. "You have talked to her?"

He looked at me. "Yes," he admitted, grudgingly.

"And you... no, the two of you couldn't have told me?"

"Well, it's just as surprising to me as it is for you! In fact, this," he pointed at his clothes, "only happened a week ago!"

I glanced at his face, wrinkling my nose at his ridiculous beard. "At least you combed your hair," I muttered.

"Oi! I'm trying to be the cool uncle, give me some credit."

I grudgingly admitted he won some points at least for not wearing robes similar to Dumbledore's.

"But that still doesn't give you an excuse. What is your plan exactly?"

"Watch the tournament as Snuffles."

"That's it?"

"You're not expecting me to do a Muggle acrobat thing and make something explode like that Bond bloke, did you?!"

"Be fair, James Bond is cool." I sighed in exasperation, and finally, I rolled my eyes. "Alright. But don't get anywhere near the judges' table. There's Karkaroff and Maxime and don't forget Dumbledore. He won't be exactly happy with you either if he sees you." I crossed my arms.

"No one will see me." Sirius placed his hands on my shoulders and rubbed them gently, soothing, leaning down to look me in the face. For a moment, I was startled that his eyes were shaped in the same way as mine. But then I remembered that my mother had been his twin sister. "Have a little faith on me, pup. I'm not that old."

I swallowed. Nodded.

Sirius smiled and turned around, disappearing past the bushes. When I dared to look beyond, only a dog stood in the way and was walking to another pair of stairs. Shaking my head, I climbed.

Neville sat awkwardly between Marie and James. He was shifting between them and looked like he preferred to jump at the dragon than be where he was. His face went slack in relief when he spotted me climbing. I made a special effort to make James scoot over and settled next to Neville.

"What took you so long?" he asked, letting out a breath.

I puffed out my cheek. "My shoe kind of got stuck."

"Really?" James pipped, raising an eyebrow. Marie had done exactly the same from Neville's side.

"Nasty," I added. I didn't bother to gauge their expressions: I was already focused on the field.

I eyed the dragon as it looked around with its piercing, translucent eyes, resting on me for a moment, then continuing with the cycle. I shivered.

"So, what are the Champions supposed to do exactly?"

James pointed at the dragon, which was the Swedish Short-Snout. "Under the dragon. See the eggs? There's a golden one between them, and they have to take one each."

"And what's the catch?"

"They already consider them as theirs," said Marie. A dimple was forming in her cheek as she looked intently at the dragon. Whatever she was getting from it, didn't look so well. "If they try to take one of the eggs, they won't hesitate to roast them alive."

I blinked. Neville gaped at her.

"Blimey!"

Behind us, I could hear the sound of cheers and loud yelling – which came from Fred and George Weasley. Not surprisingly, they were holding boxes with tiny flags bearing the champions' names.

"Bets! Place your bets!" Fred yelled.

"Bets taken! Bets taken here!" George continued.

"Step up, folks! Who fancies a flutter in today's bloodbath?" I raised my eyebrows at the word 'bloodbath'.

"Excuse you?" I said loudly. George smiled sheepishly as his brother began to yell more loudly. I had no doubt he was trying to avoid my displeasure.

"Does Mum know you're doing this?" Ginny Weasley asked, amused. She was sitting in front of us next to Hermione, who had yet to say a word to me.

"No -" "- and she won't, right, dearest sister?"

"I spoil them too much," said Ginny mournfully.

"Smart money's on Krum to survive! Any bets?"

"Has it started?" Ron asked as he moved to sit next to Hermione.

She hook her head but the sound of a blast contradicted her. Ludo Bagman rose from behind the judges' table, looking flustered as he fingered with his wand. The tip touched his throat, and soon, his voice was ringing all around the crude stadium.

The TriWizard Tournament had finally began.

The first to come forward was Cedric Diggory, whose pale frame made him look thinner and less handsome as he stared up at the dragon. He stood too much time in the same spot, the blue dragon finally spotting him, and Cedric barely had time to duck as the female creature roared and a shower of flames flew over his head.

From then, only the commentary coming from the box kept me updated with Cedric's progress. The dragon was too much fast to exactly pinpoint where it had flown, to see where the Hufflepuff was.

What I did get to see was when Cedric transformed a nearby rock into a dog. The transfigured thing barked and ran around in circles, successfully distracting the dragon, giving Cedric the chance to get close to the egg. I jumped when he suddenly disappeared under a curtain of fire and the crowd gasped.

A girl actually fainted.

And then, a shadow jumped out of the flames, the Shielding Charm disappearing the moment Cedric hit the ground. He laid on his back, apparently stunned. And the egg, which he held tightly with his arm, shone.

The crowd roared.

"Very good indeed!" Bagman said. "And now the marks from the judges!"

The judges all gave their marks, most of them not bad.

"One down, three to go! Miss Delacour, if you please!" Bagman yelled.

Fleur Delacour came out of the tent next, looking almost as sick as Cedric did. She was to go against the Common Welsh Green, but her first mistake was to go haughtily up to him, as if she had already deemed the task easier than it was.

The Welsh Green shot fire at her and Fleur dodged it, using a Shielding charm that did not last more than five seconds – and I counted – and she almost was singed if not for the rock she hid behind.

The rest of the time with her meant to try to go directly toward the dragon, unsuccessful each time that Fleur had begun to look out of her patience. When she finally got behind the dragon, she pulled out her wand and a silver light circled the Common Welsh's head. To my surprise, the dragon immediately reacted and suddenly, it was dripping forward and falling down on its face. The crowd cheered and the Beauxbatons' lot let out small paper planes fly up to the sky. Smirking, Fleur calmly walked around the dragon and took the golden egg.

Her smugness bit her in the arse though, the moment she gave her back. The Common Welsh Green snorted in its sleep and flames shot out of its snout, the fire catching the end of Fleur's skirt.

I snorted as she let out a high squeak and tried to put it down until it finally dawned on her and she used a water spell. Fleur didn't look so magnificent anymore as she sourly waited for her marks.

I crossed my fingers, closing my eyes tightly. "God, let it be Harry this time."

The dragon they had brought out this time was the Chinese Fireball. And the last one to come out would be the Hungarian Horntail, and for god's sake, it better be -

"And here comes Mr. Krum!"

I scowled and rested my hands on my knees. Sometimes, I wondered if I tended to ask too much.

Contrary to his other counterparts, Viktor Krum did not hesitate to jump straight into the fire. Using maneuvers I wasn't aware Durmstrang taught, he evaded most of the dragon's attacks. Jumping, evading from side to side, Krum on his feet was just as magnificent as he was above the air. There were a few close calls, but he miraculously seemed to be made of steel. His technique however, left much to say. The spells he used were too dangerous, highly explosive; his intentions were clear, his main goal was to attack the female dragon.

At some point, I decided to turn my eye to James and gauged his reactions. He seemed calm, collected even, but the vein from his neck was pulsing thickly. Did he have any knowledge of those spells? Or had his school already gotten him used to watch such a cruelty without flinching?

The piercing wail drew me back to attention. My head snapped to the arena.

I almost gagged. Marie, from Neville's side, hid her face on his shoulder, the tear tracks in her face deliberately showing her heartbreak. Neville didn't hesitate to put an arm around her tried to cover her ears as the poor creature wailed. I forced myself to drag my gaze back.

One of its eyes was bleeding profusely. The Chinese Fireball stumbled back as it was nearly blinded, and Krum took advantage immediately.

"That's some nerve he's showing," said Bagman, "And – yes, he's got the egg!"

My knees bounced as the dragon keepers brought the Hungarian Horntai. She was bigger than the last three and during the daylight, it looked more menacing and more spike-y than before. The spiked tail looked close enough to one of those hammer torture devices from the medieval era.

"Potter's so screwed," James declared. He winced at the sharp look I shoot him.

"Now, last, but not least, Mr. Harry Potter!"

I let out a puff of air as Harry finally entered the arena. He raised his wand, saying the Summoning spell. The crowd watched in confusion, until the familiar whooshing sound reached their ears ad soon, the Firebolt swopped through the woods and stopped by Harry's side. I half listened to Bagman's voice as Harry climbed onto his broomstick and kicked off the ground, soaring confidently in the air. I watched as the fear disappeared from his face and confidence took over, my heart beating in sync with the Horntail's loud puffs of air.

Harry dived down, the dragon's head following him. He once again dived as the Hungarian Horntail shot a jet of fire at him.

"Great Scott, he can fly!" Bagman yelled. He grabbed a Durmstrang by the lapels and said, almost sounding like a little child, "Are you watching this, Mr. Krum? Oh, so sorry -"

Harry started to fly higher in circles, the dragon never taking its eyes off him. He suddenly plummeted but this time he wasn't so lucky. The end of his broom got caught in fire, and his shoulder hit one of the dragon's spikes, ripping his clothes -

He zoomed around the Horntail, and then he was everywhere. He flew to one way, diving into another, rolling so that he looked like he was surfing, never close enough so the fire could hit him, but enough for the dragon to stay alert.

The Hungarian Horntail bared her sharp teeth, her neck stretching to its fullest as Harry flew higher. The dragon swayed, and Harry got higher than ever.

And suddenly, her wings spread wide and the chains rattled. Harry dived, speeding toward the ground at an alarming rate, getting closer to the eggs, one arm outstretched -

I jumped, screaming in delight. I was embarrassed to notice that I'd been the first one to do so, making it more obvious – but then Neville and Ron were chanting Harry's name, James was laughing, and Marie cheered along with Hermione and Ginny.

Harry soared over the stands, and I watched as he whooped, the golden egg tucked safely under his uninjured arm.

"Congratulations Potter," I whispered.

One task down; two to go.