~Harriet Azalea Potter~
She managed to keep it together long enough to slip past the curtains and activate the silencing ward before losing it. With an almighty squeal, she vented the excitement of the past two hours before she was capable of thinking clearly again.
When someone disarmed her without a single tone and pushed her into an empty classroom, she was prepared for the worst.
She was determined to fight tooth and nail but had no hope to win no matter how vicious she could be.
That worry disappeared when she saw Winston Whittaker appear from thin air. She trusted him enough to not do anything like that. A new worry rose inside of her, though.
This was the one person who always looked at situations with an impartial lense. If he caught her outside past curfew, he punished her accordingly. If there was a fight, he first listened to both parties before politely asking for the wands and casting a 'Priori Incantatem' on them to see if the statement fit the last spells used. He always warned both parties that should they refuse, he'd take it as confirmation that they were the guilty party.
Even though there were several cases where she was punished anyways because those bastards ran to their head of House, mostly Snape, she always appreciated that he heard her out before deciding anything. It wasn't Hero-worship or anything from his side. He just did what he should do since he was a prefect and as such he was worth the respect his position amounted to.
And he always looked at her kindly. No matter which rumours made their rounds, he never spoke to her harshly. And she even witnessed him defend her several times. His tongue could be quite vicious once provoked. Comments about blindly believing brain-dead rumours instead of making their own judgment being a stain on the House of Ravenclaw came to her mind.
If she was entirely honest with herself, she had a bit of a crush on him. As did more than half of the female population of Hogwarts. But he never seemed interested. She once overheard him talk with a year-mate who asked him if he was bent. His answer stuck with her and she found herself agreeing.
"I am straight, but I have no time and energy for vapid and idiotic girls who throw themselves at the first interesting guy. If I commit to a relationship, it will be based on trust, loyalty, and integrity. Attraction is important. But those are the foundation for a healthy relationship."
This time, though, she was worried that he'd condemn her. That he would throw the same vitriol at her that she heard from everyone the past few weeks. That he wouldn't hear her out. It was after all his moment to shine, wasn't it? He was supposed to be the shining example for Muggleborn. The one rising above his station, showing that he was more than a match for those pompous Purebloods, even those older than him. And she took that from him.
Which was why her question, that she asked after he threw up an array of privacy spells, half of which she didn't even recognise, sounded weak and tired with it all, much to her chagrin.
"What do you want, Whittaker?"
She felt a glimmer of hope when he handed her back her wand after his features softened when he heard her question. She still gave him a light glare at which he smiled apologetically.
'He can't be too angry then, right? If he were, he'd not smile at me.'
The slight hope in her thoughts, the first gleam of light she felt since her name came out of the goblet, ignited when she registered his words.
"Several things, actually. The first and foremost thing I want you to know is that I believe you. I don't think any sane student of your year would have truly entered themselves. And while the judgment on your sanity is still out there, your vehement claims that you didn't enter convinced me entirely. You were always honest with me. Too honest even, sometimes. Honesty is one of your basic character traits and also the one that will bite you in your behind sometimes in the future."
The tears came unbidden. She didn't even notice them at first, until her vision started to swim. All the verbal attacks on her from people she knew. From those who she helped, for whom she fought. No one seemed to believe her words, no matter how many reasons she gave them to. Not even her 'best' friend did. She understood Ron's behaviour. He was jealous, clear as day. He was also immature and she somewhat expected it.
But the stab into her unguarded heart came from another source. Hermione Granger, with whom she'd bonded through their shared enthusiasm for academics, though she preferred the practical side of things. Hermione, who was the reason she actually applied herself in school instead of coasting by as she did to save herself the beatings she got because she did better than 'Dudders'.
She knew that there was a slight rift between them after she outdid her score the previous year but she planned to mend it by helping her with her practicals. By investing all her energy into making sure that they'd be as close as before. But before she could even truly start setting her plan into motion, this happened.
She was running on fumes and didn't even know why she kept going really. Her relationship with Hermione was the single most important thing for her, and that pillar was ripped away from her. Just as she was contemplating if she shouldn't just give up and let the goblet take her magic and life, she was ambushed.
And now, from the darkest moment in her recent history, from the abyss that threatened to swallow her entirely, she was pulled up by the person she expected to deal the final blow. Had he screamed at her, verbally attacked her, she'd have broken. She knew it with certainty. Instead, he did what he always did. He listened to her. He believed her claims over the rumours that were floating around.
This was the reason why she was always honest with him even when she was the guilty party. She knew he was fair. She knew he wouldn't overdo it. And she knew he would have her back if she wasn't guilty.
He looked at her tears with startled eyes, but then he took a hesitant step closer and opened his arms. For the first time since she could remember, she initiated a hug. His slow and gentle caresses on her back slowly calmed the waterfall and made it a trickle. The storm that was brewing inside of her was still there but it looked far less threatening than before.
She was embarrassed by her actions. Crying into the chest of the only one to show her kindness? Was she that weak? 'At least I kept enough control to keep myself silent...' It wasn't much but it did count for something.
Looking up into those gentle blue-grey eyes as he slowly released her from his hold, she couldn't help the embarrassed smile that spread on her lips. He smiled back sympathetically. But before he did that, she saw a wrathful glint in his eyes that she would have missed, were she not staring into them. Instinctively she knew that it wasn't directed at her, but at the cause for her mood. It made her stomach flutter just slightly. She shelved that realisation for later.
Suddenly his hand raised and a surprisingly large part of her wanted him to cup her cheek. Of course that wasn't what happened. Instead, he touched her glasses, and even before he whispered 'Reparo...', she could feel the magic build up on his fingers. Involuntarily, her mouth opened in surprise. 'He can cast wandlessly...' She thought to herself. This was a skill that nearly no one could boast. She knew Fumbledore had some skill in wandless casting and she had read about several others. Only three were confirmed to still be alive, though.
Of course she knew about Uagadou. She knew them to be pretenders. They had magical tattoos that functioned as focus. Each year while in school, they got a temporary tattoo called a Mehendi Golecha, that was attuned to their magical core and once they graduate, it'll be made permanent. She knew this because she had a pen pal from there and she was way more open about those secrets than she should be. She didn't even ask for that detail. The girl just threw in an entire essay about it. She had to admit that she liked that idea for a focus, though.
True wandless magic was in the realm of myths. It spoke of an exceptionally strong core and outstanding control. Of a spectacular connection to their own magic and the miracles surrounding them. And he was capable of it.
"Your emotional outburst is safe with me, as will be any future interaction that you want to be confidential."
She would have trusted him anyways. She had no reason not to. Every interaction she had with him marked him as trustworthy. But he went a step further and exposed a part of himself that wasn't known to many. Of that she was certain. She'd prove herself worthy of that trust too. He followed that near-whisper up with more energy. He could nearly be called cheerful he spoke.
"Since you can now trust me to keep my mouth shut, let's continue. I would like to try and help getting you out of this shit show. While I am in a somewhat similar situation, having to thank my year-mates for being entered, I decided to compete anyways."
So he wasn't in it entirely put of his own volition either. At least he knew who was responsible.
"It will help me showcase some things I am working on and maybe land me a Master to further my skills. You however have absolutely no interest in competing. I think you could have a fair chance solely by virtue of your yearly adventures, but with the ministry's involvement and one of the most vicious Death Eaters having the minister's ear... Well, you can imagine how they might use this situation."
He grew utterly serious at his last few words, and for a good reason too. She hadn't even thought about it like that. It was entirely possible that an official flunky under Fudge threw in her name at Malfoy's suggestion.
She very nearly had a panic attack at that perilous thought, having to sit down on one of the desks to steady herself. She didn't remember exactly but she thought she levitated one of them to use it. He must have seen her emotions in her eyes because he threw her another sympathetic gaze. He didn't stop talking however and while he did, his mien was entirely serious. It was an attractive trait to be honest.
"First of all, do you know what Dumbledore has done up until now? He is trying to help you get out of the contract, right? Did they declare you of age since they made it a necessity to enter? Did you try giving an oath that you didn't enter yourself? Is the paper that came out of the goblet truly signed by you or did someone create a persona to impersonate you within the magical matrix of the goblet?"
He didn't let her see his own opinions, only asking questions that she hadn't truly thought about. She had wondered what exactly Fumbledore was doing to help her, but she never truly sought an answer since she had kinda given up hope on that front. He wasn't even in this situation and yet, he already thought it through more thoroughly than she did. 'I'm pathetic, aren't I?' She thought to herself morosely before trying to fumble through some answers.
"Dunno what Fumbledore's doing. Probably sucking on some lemon drops. He said I should trust in his and Moody's expertise but to be honest, I trust them as far as I can throw Hagrid. The officials did repeat three times that I need to compete after I asked and I felt something inside of me loosen up a tad so I think they declared me of age. As for the other two: Nope and no idea since I haven't seen the damn thing. Also, no idea what you mean with magical matrix."
She had read about magical matrixes once only and it was a glimpse of a post-mastery book on enchanting. She wondered just how far ahead the curve he really was. As he sank into his thoughts, probably trying to use the limited information he had access to to somehow plan a way for her to escape certain death, she couldn't help but contemplate why her life always seemed to culminate towards near-death experiences.
Though, this time they had a better chance than ever to actually get her. Was attempting to save her even worth his time? This was someone who could reach everything he could ever want. And here he was, squandering the time he could use to reach for the stars. As her thoughts drifted into vaguely suicidal territories, she was suddenly startled out of them by a warm arm pulling her into his side.
She didn't usually like physical contact and avoided it whenever possible. But the simple and casual way he held her to himself was somehow comforting. She allowed herself to sink into the embrace and draw comfort from his smell. It was a rather unique combination of crackling fire, parchment, air just after lightning struck, and something uniquely him. Something smelling of liberation.
The way her nose tingled clued her in that she was smelling his magic. 'Of course he is powerful enough to develop a magical Aura before even leaving Hogwarts.' Unbidden, words that contradicted her earlier thoughts made it past her lips.
"I kinda don't want to die..."
He was silent for a moment and she already thought, hoped, he hadn't heard her admission. It was another weakness that she was exposing to him and she wasn't sure if she liked it. Her hopes were for naught, though, as he answered soon after.
"Historically, the first task is a task of daring. Of fighting against the odds. In most cases, this means going against a dangerous magical creature and either killing it or stealing something from it. There are four new inhabitants in the forbidden forest so I think I know what we are going to face."
He knew and he wouldn't have mentioned it if he wasn't going to tell her. This knowledge calmed her considerably. Fear of the unknown was always greater than the one of a known threat.
"In consideration of your mental state, I'll let you calm down before I tell you. Just know that should we not find a way to get you out of this tournament, I will help you train for it. I could use a competent sparring partner anyways."
The first comment in regards to her mental state was... Fair. She didn't understand, though. Why was he doing all of this? Why was he helping her? Why did he decide that she was worth his time?
"Why?"
She echoed her inner thoughts, much to his confusion as he looked at her with uncomprehending eyes.
"Why what?"
He asked as if it wasn't clear. As if she was actually worth something. But that couldn't possibly be true. If it was, why was she treated as if she was worthless from everyone else? Her frustrations aired themselves to the person least deserving of them.
"Why help me? Why tell me that you believe in me? Why do all this? Why?!"
Her voice was rising and tears were once again building in the corners of her eyes. They didn't have time to fall though, because he caught her eyes with his. The mesmerising seriousness was fully on display as he befuddled her with a seemingly complete non sequitur.
"You didn't slay Voldemort. Your parents did. Specify: Your mother. She invoked one of the Olden Magicks, forbidden by the fools of the ministry. You survived that night because she set up a sacrificial ritual with the price being the highest she could pay. Her life."
She was shocked out of the downward spiral of her thoughts by his words. Just as she wanted to demand what he meant, he continued.
"That's the conjecture I came to the first time I heard your story. And I asked around for fractions of hers out of curiosity. Your mother was a brilliant witch and a formidable woman. I was curious as to how that would translate to her daughter. And I wasn't disappointed at all. You are compassionate, empathetic, powerful, intelligent, and so much more. Even though you are not red-headed, you do have their dreaded temper."
Her blush was equal parts mortification, embarrassment for the high opinion he had of her, and indignation at the mention of her temper. And he still wasn't done, even though she secretly enjoyed being the reason for his warm laughter.
"That only adds depth to you, though. Because the only times your temper truly explodes is when you perceive what you see as injustice."
'Oh god. He saw me when I was in a right mood... Which idiots did he watch me blow up on?' Even though the connotations with which he told her this was clearly positive, it was still embarrassing to be caught losing her temper by her crush. 'Being complimented by him does feel nice, though.' His next words pulled her from Dreamland.
"What I also see is that you are a polarising figure in the Wizarding World. Your fame would be a double-sided sword in the best of hands but you are entirely untrained to deal with it. That's not your fault but the failure of those who held your fate in their hands. This causes you to be swept up in the way you are perceived without being able to sway the sheep in any meaningful way."
He was right, she realised. She didn't know how to handle her fame, all those eyes on her. Had she been coached early on, it would have been less of a challenge and she might have avoided pitfalls she didn't even know she fell into. From the corner of her eyes, she believed she caught him staring at her.
But that couldn't possibly be. Why would he stare at her? She was a boyish little thing with barely any curves to show. Her only saving grace were her eyes and they were hidden behind glasses. She probably just misinterpreted what she was seeing, right? He continued with a measured pace. Neither hurrying through his words nor slowing them down.
"What I've seen is that every single person who should have had your back failed to do so. I thought you'd have at least one steadfast friend behind you in Hermione Granger, but even she fell victim to the curse of imbecility that seems to befall all those entering the Wizarding World."
He pulled a sad smile from her with those words but she couldn't fault him for them. She knew that Hermione didn't mean most of what she said but there wouldn't ever be the same trust between them that they had cultivated over the past few years. His tone grew grave and the content of his next words made her gulp.
"I shouldn't involve myself with you. My family is in danger as is since I am a first gen, or Muggleborn as we are called here. I've seen the signs and dark times lay ahead. I planned to leave the country after getting my NEWTS this year. Well, it seems as if I'll have to send off my folks. Since I've decided to involve myself, I will see it through."
She couldn't even argue against it since he said it with such finality that her words seemed stuck in her throat. Suddenly he drew his wand and while she was certain he wouldn't attack her, she was still curious what he wanted to do. She didn't expect him to start glowing, though.
"What I am offering you is my wand and my expertise. I am more than I let on. But I am not enough to take on the likes of Voldemort and, how did you call him? Ah, yes. Fumbledore. I wouldn't be able to take them one on one to be honest. I lack the experience. The instincts cultivated through war and strive. But, if I teach you, mentor you, you could be so much more than what you are at present. I admire your steadfast personality and your moral compass that you kept despite your homelife."
His insinuation that in raw ability, he could actually take on those two giants and the unwitting light show both fell to the wayside at the latter part of his statement. Panic spread through her at his words. 'He knows... He knows. He knows!' She couldn't think clearly. She kept it a secret out of shame and because she didn't want everyone to know just how worthless she really was. And now, someone knew! He scoffed, probably because... She couldn't even finish the thought before he obliterated her reasoning.
"Everyone with half a brain and a single shortsighted eye should have seen it. I tried to appeal to some teachers and the headmaster without success. Talking to the matron didn't help either and I don't believe that my letters to the DMLE arrived where they should have. Someone wants to desperately keep you there and I didn't want to get your hopes up by talking with you first."
He tried to help her... She knew that it was Fumbledore who was blocking any and all attempts to remove her from what she now knew to be an abusive household. But he tried. He wouldn't do that if he thought less of her, right?
"You... Don't think worse of me because of it?"
The question slipped out before she could stop it and she couldn't even stop the hopeful glance that landed on him. The look she got in return made her feel dumb, but in a good way. She didn't even know that was possible. He then proceeded to shift her entire worldview off it's axis.
"People like you, who face adversity in every aspect of their lives and keep their kindness, their compassion. You are the beacons that show that humanity isn't yet lost. In all that shit that's out there, you shine like a diamond. I couldn't think worse of you even if you were an acerbic bitch. Your situation definitely lends itself to developing such personality traits. But you stayed who you are deep inside and I admire you for it."
He told her this with utter seriousness. With complete conviction. She couldn't even begin to doubt that he truly believed what he told her. It caused her heartbeat to escalate and her face felt entirely too hot. Shyly, she glanced at his face and those intense eyes were still on her. It nearly made her fidget but she kept herself under control, mostly. Her mouth decided to do it's own thing though, and not for the first time this day.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you fancy me..."
She nearly cursed herself to spit slugs for a lifetime after the words made it past her lips. Could she have any less self-control?! The smile he smiled was a strange one. It was on the rueful side of things but it felt as if he wanted to regret his choice of words but couldn't. He then opened that damnable, kissable mouth again.
"Right now? I won't allow myself to look at you like that. Objectively, you are gorgeous if a bit thin for obvious reasons. But I'm two years older than you. In a couple of years, that won't be much of a difference. But right now? It's an entire world."
Even as her entire blood tried and apparently succeeded to migrate to her face, her mind told her 'There is a chance. He might actually fancy you.' She didn't want to listen, didn't want to hope. But... How else could she interpret those words? And if there was a chance? Well, everyone who knew her enough knew that she could be stubborn.
"You do know that maturity isn't entirely dictated by age, right?"
She knew there were many things she didn't know. But she was way more jaded against the world than her peers. She lived through what was basically a child-labor camp coupled with an isolative prison. She survived attempts on her life more often than most adult magicals. She knew she was bland, even if he seemed to think otherwise. But maturity really shouldn't be the problem here.
She tilted her head as she waited for his answer. It came with the delicious side-dish of his composure fraying. He looked at her with incredulity In his gaze, meaning that she had cracked the outer shell of his emotional control.
"Why are you arguing that point? There is no way you'd even find me attractive! This point should be moot."
'Oh, payback is a bitch. And this time, I'm paying her.' She thought to herself as she allowed the smile that wanted to be on her lips through. She drank in his body and absolutely delighted in the light blush on his cheeks. That her roving eyes had any effect at all on him was exhilarating. It also sent her mind into overdrive.
"I don't know. I quite like what I see. Tall. Broad shoulders. Attractive angular features. Well muscled, obviously developed by working out. That and your far, far above average academic performance hint at a good work ethic."
As she turned fully to him, not letting her eyes leave him, she wondered what made her this bold. She couldn't ever remember a time where she obviously flirted with anyone. And yet, it came easily to her if he was the target. She felt the same mischievous intent that sometimes overcame her when she was talking to her dogfather and it somehow mixed deliciously with the heat that flooded her when she spent too much time in Winston's presence. She looked into his eyes and complimented him honestly.
"You are attentive and well spoken. Your social skills are clearly pretty good too and yet, you don't have a massive circle of friends which means you choose quality over quantity. Your popularity and the fact that you haven't had a girlfriend as far as the rumour mill of Hogwarts knows makes the spot rather exclusive. That increases your already high attractiveness in the eyes of the female population even more."
She knelt then and he was utterly still. He didn't move at all but his eyes followed her in a wary but fascinated way. Especially after she started trailing his biceps with her index finger. 'Mmm muscles...' She thought with hooded eyes before she continued playing the game that wasn't a game.
"I'd say you are a good catch. Every straight girl would be happy to give it a try with you."
Silently, she was jubilating at the way his breath hitched when she flattened her hand against his upper arm. Who knew having such an effect on someone you fancied was capable of catapulting one's mood into the stratosphere?
"And by every straight girl, I mean every straight girl."
The way his entire body shuddered under her barely there touch and the breath that was ghosting over his ear emboldened her to do something she really had not planned. Not that anything she was doing her was planned. She pressed her lips to his cheek. The contact was short, but it was as if an electric jolt went through her. She felt energised in a way she never did before and her lips were tingling. Not an unwelcome sensation at all.
"Thank you for the massive boost in confidence. For promising to stand by me. And for trying to do what not even the adults are attempting."
She was completely genuine with her thanks. This rather horrible day was turning out to be the best thing that ever happened to her. But it was time to end it. She could try to go further, but he'd stop her. She was certain of that. So the better choice was showing maturity by backing off with style.
She jumped off the table and made her way to the exit. Her movements were only partially conscious as she left the rest to her instincts. They rarely misguided her after all. The glance she threw back at him with a wicked smirk that appeared on her lips automatically showed her the effectiveness of her instinct, proving them to once again be on point if the enraptured look on his face was anything to go by.
She then hurried back to her dorm room as quickly as she dared beneath her Invisibility Cloak. As her memories went full circle, she wondered about the fact that the entire encounter was burned into her mind. Every word, every expression. Nothing was out of place. Whyever that was the case, she cherished it. She sighed and wrinkled her nose a bit in distaste since that one sounded entirely too lovesick for her sensibilities.
But... Was that a bad thing in this case? She knew she fancied him. And now she knew he fancied her too, for whatever unfathomable reason. She had enough on her plate already, but he promised to help her. If they failed to get her out of the contract, they'd regularly meet up to train and learn.
She had a real chance to make this work. A determined smile spread over her lips before she sank into the first decent sleep since she was chosen.