"Stupefy!" Harry yelled at the target, shooting it back. He continued practicing spells; his eyes squinted behind his glasses as he practiced. He had been practicing for hours since his time with Ron and Hermione but he still felt like he was ridiculously unprepared. Pandora uneasily entered the courtyard. He had invited her to come over an hour ago yet was still casting spells and practicing. The third task was a week away and his nerves were getting the best of him.

"Harry?" she called out, her voice wavering. She did not want to break his concentration. But as she called out his name he missed his target and cursed loudly, his face scrunching up in anger. He gripped his wand tighter and began to cast more spells, his eyes trained on the target.

"Expulso!" he shouted, shooting out a ray of blue and causing the target to explode.

"Harry," she approached him more purposefully now. "Harry, I think it's time you took a break," he ignored her, casting more spells. His hand cramped from clutching his wand so tightly but he continued, his mind filled with the spells that he hoped would not only win the tournament but save his life. She reached out and touched his shoulders. He spun around to face her, his wand in her face and his mouth open as though he were about to curse her. She flung herself back, shocked.

"I'm—I'm sorry—" he sputtered as his face filled with horror at his actions.

"For Merlin's sake, Harry!" she shrieked as he pocketed his wand.

"You appeared out of nowhere!" he accused.

"I've been standing her for over an hour!"

"I was deep in practice!"

"You need a break," she insisted.

"Champions don't take breaks."

"You won't be a champion if you don't get any rest."

"I can't rest. I'm not ready." He sighed, rolling his eyes at her insolence.

"Staying up for hours practicing the same spells won't get you ready."

"You don't know anything!" he snarled.

"Oh, don't I? I know you're stressed but Harry, all you're doing is overworking yourself and—"

"Just leave me alone!" He yelled, his shoulders tense and his jaw tight. She lurched back, stunned.

"Fine, I will," she spat, spinning on her heel and storming off. She had almost reached the edge of the courtyard when he called her name, his voice choked and broken. She turned to face him, ready to yell. But then she saw the way he had curled up his body, weak and tired, his eyes watery and his head bowed.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice cracked and on the verge of a sob. "I'm just…I'm so stressed, Pandora. I need you right now. I just really need you right now." She rushed over to him, pulling him close to her.

"I'm here, Harry," she whispered fiercely. "I'm here."

That night, as she prepared herself to go to bed and thought about the day's events, Harry's breakdown, and her feelings for him that consumed her more than she realized, she found herself stopping mid movement, freezing in time as her thoughts drifted. Where was this going? Where could it go? She didn't know. But all she knew was the wherever she decided to go, she desperately wanted him to come with her. She made the decision that night that no matter the twists or turns that were sure to approach and no matter the obstacles that would definitely appear, she would stay by his side through it all. He needed. And, she realized, she needed him.

Her owl appeared in her window, snapping her back to reality. (Was it reality, though?) She absentmindedly took the letter located in the owls mouth, giving him a little snack before waving him off so she could read. She opened the parcel, her mind on other things, until it all came to a halt as she recognized her father's hasty scrawl. Come home, immediately. It is time.

She had let go of the note before she realized it. It fluttered to the ground then self-destructed. She winced at the small explosion, then looked around her room. A feeling of nostalgia for a moment that hadn't even passed yet came over her. She stayed frozen. She felt like once she moved, things would forever change. But they already had. She knew that things as they were now would never be the same. It was time. She had begun to retrieve her floo powder before she knew what she was doing. It was time. She had been preparing for this since birth. Yet even after all this time, she was not ready. She doubted if she ever would have been.