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"Sirius - how're you doing?" Harry said.
Sirius... it was not a very common name. I've only heard of one person called Sirius and I knew better than anyone how dangerous he could be.
To say I was shocked would be an understatement. My friend was talking to the Azkaban escapee who had murdered both his parents, plus twelve muggles. What's more, he was greeting him like an old friend!
Why?
I'm not usually an eavesdropper, but I couldn't just leave without being absolutely certain that Harry was having an actual civilised – no friendly – conversation with that murderer.
Not long later, Harry was forced to end his discussion due to the thumping sound of someone coming down from the boy's dormitories. And by then, I'd gathered enough evidence to be one hundred percent certain that Harry was communicating with Black, presumably through the fireplace.
While Harry dealt with whoever came down the stairs, I seized my chance to escape.
When I at last made it to my dorm, ignoring my aching bones' desire to crawl into bed immediately, I slipped into the bathroom and cast an Imperturbable Charm over the door – something my grandfather had taught me back in New York.
For a long moment, I just stood there, staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My physical features were the same – pale skin, light grey eyes and long blonde hair that fell half way down my back. But there was something about me that had changed since arriving at Hogwarts. I tried telling myself that I was just older, more mature. But I knew there more to it than age.
After washing my face and trying to forget about the conversation I'd overheard downstairs, I slipped into the dorm and silently changed into my singlet and sweats that were my pyjamas.
I didn't have more than a few hours of sleep that night before I was up again, throwing my grey jumper over a loose t-shirt, pulling on my old trainers and tying my long hair up in a high ponytail.
The sun peeked out over the Forbidden Forest as I jogged around the edge of the lake. Jogging was something a friend had introduced to me back in New York. Former friend, I should say. He had been really good to me, though my grandfather had hated him for one simple reason.
He was a Muggle.
But a kind Muggle, a smart Muggle, a fun Muggle. The only other witch or wizards my age were all in my class and the most wildest thing any of them had done was use who instead of whom.
I hadn't gone jogging since he'd abruptly stopped talking to me about a two years ago. It had been no fun without his company.
But today, I felt like I needed to move.
I did another lap more around the lake before ascending the slope to the castle. By now, the sun was high over the treetops, casting a bright glow over the school grounds.
I walked past the entrance to the Great Hall without so much as a second glance. As much as I was longing for the taste of food, I was sweating and in desperate need of a shower. Priorities.
I was still dreaming about a nice hot shower when I nearly ran into Harry who was jogging down the marble staircase.
"Hey, Lean," he said. "Have you seen Hermione? I need to talk to her about last night."
"What part?" I said coldly. "The dragons or what happened in the common room afterwards."
"I don't have time for this," Harry said, pushing past me. I watched him leave with an annoyed expression.
I was planning on confronting him about Sirius Black eventually, but now wasn't the right time. I needed to cool off and be smart about this. If Harry really was in cahoots with the man who had murdered both his parents, I couldn't just accuse him with no hard evidence. Sirius was too clever for that – he escaped Azkaban for Merlin's sake! No, I had to wait until the perfect opportunity presented itself...
I was so lost in my thoughts that I hadn't noticed I'd arrived at the portrait hole until the Fat Lady cleared her throat loudly.
"Balderdash," I said quickly, before scampering through the hole and running up to the forth year girls' empty dormitory. Grabbing some clean clothes, I locked myself in the bathroom and turned on the hot water, letting the warmth wash over my body.
And for twenty minutes, that's all I felt – warmth. Turning the tap off was like waking up from a peaceful dream. One second everything was perfect. The next... well, I was back in reality.
Tuesday seemed to come around in no time at all. The entire first class I spent pretending to listen to Professor Binns drone on and on about some famous goblin, while my focus was actually on Harry as I watched him out of the corner of my eye. In just a few short hours, he'd be faced with a dragon. I hadn't really spoken to him much over the last few days because of the whole Sirius thing, so I had no idea if he was prepared or not, and despite the fact that he was on good terms with a murderer, I sincerely hoped he had some sort of plan.
"What do you reckon the first task is?" Neville asked me as we made our way along the edge of the forest towards the dragon enclosure.
"I don't know," I lied, staring down at my feet to avoid his gaze. Fortunately, Neville was too busy thinking up possible challenges – each deadlier than the last – to notice my unusual behaviour. This continued all the way until we reached the large tent, blocking our view of the dragons. We passed it and climbed the stands to sit beside Ron and Hermione, the latter looking so nervous one might think she was about to face a dragon.
And she hadn't even seen them.
The first champion to face their beast was Cedric. He transfigured a rock into a dog which he used to distract his dragon. It worked as he was able to get his egg, but he did get burnt when the dragon decided it wanted him instead of the dog.
Next was Fleur. She put her dragon into a trance, making it all sleepy, but then it snored and her skirt caught fire.
Viktor Krum went third, hitting his dragon with a spell right in the eye. It would've worked, had it not accidently trampled the real eggs.
When the third champion had finished, I knew it was only a matter of time before Harry walked in. And I'd been taking notice of the different dragons each champion faced, and knew there was only one left: The Hungarian Horntail – the most vicious of them all.
The stands erupted when Harry entered the arena. I sent a glance to Hermione to see if she knew what Harry was planning to do. But she had gone white in the face and was gripping the sides of her legs so hard, I could see her fingernails tearing her pants.
But she didn't need to have worried: Harry was excellent! He summoned his broom and flew around the dragon, eventually persuading it to get off the egg. Then he swooped down and collected it in record time.
The stands screamed once more, myself included. Hermione and Ron rushed down to meet him while Neville and I went back to the common room with the rest if the Gryffindors. From the way Ron had jogged after Hermione had told me he'd finally come to his senses and was ready to reconcile with Harry.
The Golden Trio were back together, that was good thing.
So why wasn't I happier?
