Challenge Six.
Character House: Gryffindor - The only house I had yet to write about here.
Missing Moment: After Harry has left the Great Hall after being declared a TriWizard Champion. Hermione's point of view.
House: Ravenclaw
notes: A huge thank you goes out to xana4 for beta'ing for me. And a huge thanks to my friend Sparky for inspiring me with which missing moment to do :)
Breaks In The Bond
Hermione Granger || Friendship
The yells of protest hit a whole new level as Harry is escorted out of the Great Hall. First there had been silence – shock but now, everyone stands to level, fists are pumping in the air and my fellow students are shaking their heads and yelling. I think they're more annoyed than worried. Since when has anyone, other than Dumbledore and myself, cared about Harry's safety? Even Ronald, who I had always thought was behind Harry, is muttering spiteful words under his breath. I sit in shocked silence, the cries of the others blaring in my ears.
Questions are flooding my mind, they had been ever since I had nudged Harry forward. Was it possible for us to have a normal school year in Hogwarts? Though I would love to say differently, I think that ever since the incident on our first year I've always known that the answer to that question is no. Still, it would be nice, wouldn't it? Yes, a year in which Harry would not be chased by Dark Wizards or be thrusted into dangerous competitions would be nice.
"... I can't believe he didn't tell me!" Ron's fuming as he slams his palms against the table, standing while doing so. He rounds on me, his eyes narrowed in anger. "Did he tell you? Hell! I bet you helped him!"
My jaw drops in disbelief. How dare he? Does he honestly think that I, the girl that has stood by Harry for the last three years, would even consider doing such a stupid thing? People have filed out of the hall now, and I hold my ground, glaring defiantely back at him.
"I did not! Do you honestly think that he put his own name in?" I ask in disbelief, trying in vain to keep my tone even. I hurry on, knowing that should I pause for even a moment he will interrupt me. "Didn't you see the look on his face when his name was called out? He was surprised... shocked even!"
"Proud."
I bite my lip, my eyebrows furrowing in exasperation. Finally, I settle on replying, "You'd have to be stupid to believe that, Ronald."
Even as the words are leaving my mouth I know it's the wrong thing to say. He's always been sensitive about his short-comings – especially when compared with the lack of mine. Flinching, I wait for the explosion that is sure to come. And it does. A ferocious spew of incoherent words flood from his mouth, his eyes bulging and cheeks reddening as he yells. I'm thankful that the others have left the hall. How on Earth could I have explained that to a professor?
"Ron... you're not saying that you wanted to enter, are you?" I ask tentatively. The idea seems proposperous in my mind. Then again, he has been known for some outrageous things. Facing a three-headed dog, for example. But it would be pure madness to want to enter such a tournament. After all, people have died. To me, that screams: Do Not Enter!
At Ron's almost bashful face, I can't help but roll my eyes. The whole idea of actually entering the tournament is eternal glory. In the process of this, you may die. And yet he says that I'm the one that has to set my priorities straight?
"Harry didn't put his name in the cup, Ron," I say. Ignoring his spluttering, I plunder on. "Harry would never do that. I can't believe you think otherwise. Don't you realize how dangerous this is?" Even though no one is in sight, I lower my voice, paranoia racking through my body. "Someone must have put his name in that cup. Someone that isn't Harry."
"And who would do that, Hermione?" Ron snaps. "Not everything is about the bloody Boy-Who-Lived, you know?"
"A lot is though," I retort. "For good reason too! People happen to be trying to kill him, in case you hadn't realized that yet, Ronald!"
"How could I not notice? Harry this, Harry that... don't you ever shut up about him?"
I know that I'm getting too involved in this pitiful argument. There's no point to it - I know that, yet I can't help the hot tears stinging in my eyes that threaten to slip down my cheeks. With my voice worn from yelling, I whisper: "When did this become about me?"
He has no reply, and simply casts his eyes downward.
"He needs our support," I say. Seeing his outraged look, it's obvious that Ron doesn't agree. Not bothering to respond to this, I turn on my heel, my robes swinging as I leave the room.
Maybe Ginny will be able to knock some sense into her brother, after all, she is the master when it comes to manipulating boys.