Anxitety attack~ Marina Lin
"Harry Potter"
The name echoed through the hall and through my mind like a ripple in water. I felt my heart drop like a stone. I looked up at Dumbledore at the top of the great hall. His expression was grim as he held the slip of paper in his hand. My gaze fell, like everyone else's, on Harry. Sitting just a few seats from me between Ron and Hermione. Whispers and mutters filled the great hall like plague. I clenched my fists, my mind still not registering what was happening. Slowly, like I was a ghost watching from afar, I saw Harry get up and step towards Dumbledore, who led him to the room with all the other champions.
"Perfects, head boy and girl," said Dumbledore loudly after Harry was gone; his voice was so grim and unnaturally rough that it silenced all the mutters. "Lead all students back to their dorms, now!" the other schools heads were looking at Dumbledore in a way that I can't quite comprehend.
Before we knew it, we were all being steered out of the Great Hall while Dumbledore and the other school heads and the judges made their way to the room with the champions. When everyone started moving with the deafening noise of objections and prefects yelling for us to get going. I finally found myself unfreezing from my state of shock. Without thinking, I started making my way to the room at the end of the hall, but the rest of the professors were crowding the entrance to the room, so there was no way I could get in. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up, and it was Ron.
"Come on, they're not going to let you in," he said, a bit too grimly.
"No, I have to-"
"It's not like they'll hurt him; he asked for it; now come on."
He started pulling me along; I didn't protest this time because my focus was on him now. I caught up in step; the crowd was still making huge noise, yelling indecipherable things. I've lost Sarah and Ginny in the chaos of it all. So I followed Ron as he followed the prefects back to the Gryffindor tower.
"You were in on this?" I asked loud enough for him to hear me.
He didn't answer for a second, looking ahead instead. I was about to repeat myself because my patience was wearing pretty thin, but then he answered, "In on what?"
"Ronald Weasley!" I hissed furiously.
"I didn't, alright? He didn't tell me he put his name in, I swear," he grumbled.
"How do you know he did then?" I asked suspesiously; we were getting closer to the portrait now, and the crowd around us thinned to just Gryffindors.
"How else would it come up then?" He said it loudly as people around us were starting to cheer.
"How would he ever get through Dumbledore's protections? Besides, why wouldn't he tell you?" It already didn't make sense to me. Even if he found a way around Dumbledore's magic, and that's a big if, I wouldn't understand why he would even do that. Harry does have a knack of getting in trouble or involving himself in things that are not of his business. But after everything he'd been through the last three years, it doesn't make sense for him to go ask for more trouble. What proved my doubt is that Ron doesn't know.
Let's be clear: Harry spent ten years telling me everything, sharing any stupid thing he did. until he met another redhead that surpassed my existence. He tells him everything. It's part of the reason I was so mad at him last year, even if it seems so incredibly childish. There is no reason he'd hide anything from Ron. The only alternative is that Ron is just lying to me right now. That suspicion was supported by the fact that Ron disappeared among the crowd the moment we were inside the common room.
I wanted to snap at Fred and George for celebrating, but apparently, the whole house had hit their heads because everyone joined in. Harry wasn't even back yet; no one knew what was happening, but they still cheered and celebrated the Gryffindor champion.
It's moments like those that makes me wish the hat would've put me in Ravenclaw instead. After about half an hour of headache and trying my best to control my temper so that I don't curse the party off, I simply got up and stormed out of the portrait even though I knew I'd get in trouble if I got caught. I just wanted to get as far as possible from the noise.
But the moment I stumbled furiously out of the portrait, I hit something and fell on my back.
"Hey you, watch where you're going," I started sharply, "oh, Harry!"
He stared at me sheepishly; he looked paler than he should; I could see it even in the dark hall. I accepted his hand and got up.
"Come, let's talk," I said firmly, grabbing his arm and practically dragging him further from the portrait.
"Why don't we talk in the-"
"Trust me, you don't want to go in there."
We made it just a few steps away from the portrait so that we wouldn't be completely within Filch's reach. "Now what happened? Tell me everything," I said urgently.
"Can I do that tomorrow? I'm really ti-"
"No, you can't. Tell me now! How did you put your name in? Why did you put it in?"
"I didn't!" He snapped.
"You didn't? You didn't put your name in the goblet of fire? Harry, I'm serious."
"So am I!" He said furiously, "Why does no one believe it? I didn't put it in! I swear I didn't!"
"Alright, alright, just calm down; I believe you."
"You do?" He asked, raising his eyebrows suspesiously.
I nodded; he stared at me blankly for a few seconds, then nodded too.
"Who do you think did then?"
"I don't know, Emma, it's..." He trailed off, staring in the distance. He seemed actually tired, like this has all been taking a toll on him.
"Do you have your cloak on you?" I asked quietly.
"No, why would I have it on me?"
"I just... well, they're celebrating in there... it's really annoying... I thought if you have it, you might get to your dorm with it instead of dealing with all that."
"Celebrating? Seriously?!" He asked, almost indignantly.
I smiled weakly. "They're being stupid; they think you'll actually participate or something," I muttered.
Harry was staring at me. His eyebrows raised. His expression was unreadable. "Emma..." He started gently. "I am going to participate."
"What?!" I snapped, my eyes wide, "But Dumbledore said that no one below seventeen should take part in the tournament. This is probably just a stupid prank; you shouldn't have to be the champion."
"I know he said so, but they said something about a magical contract, I think... the point is, if my name comes out, then I have to participate; I don't have a choice."
"That's ridiculous; just tell them you don't want to; they can't just make you!"
"Yes, they can... I don't have a choice," he repeated.
I could feel my heart slowly drop. Earlier, I was just furious about the whole thing, but it never crossed my mind that this means he'll have to... no, no, this shouldn't be happening; it shouldn't. I could feel my breath shorten a little. I took a deep breath, trying to let my mind register the new information.
"I'm sure if you talk to Professor Dumbledore, he'll..."
"Emma..." He said, his voice exhausted, "He couldn't do anything. There's nothing to do."
"But that's completely unfair; you didn't put your name in, and yet you have to do some stupid, dangerous tasks with three other contestants who don't only surpass you in age but also know way more advanced magic than you do! That's not fair; that's not even remotely safe; what kind of-"
"Would you just calm down, please? I know how it is; I don't need a reminder," he stopped me. I was turning red with anger. I couldn't understand how this could be. But Harry's expression made me sigh.
We both stood in silence for a second. "I... I could go get you the cloak if you want."
"No, that's okay... I'll just have to deal with them."
"Suit yourself, but I'm getting in first so I could be safe in my dorm by the time they spot you and burn the common room with sheer excitement," I muttered. He smiled weakly as I left towards the portrait.
With just a few hours of unstable sleep, I made my way to the library. Sun had just come up about a couple of hours ago, but I just couldn't stay still anymore. Bythaway, what's the point of having a bed at Hogwarts if I'm never going to sleep unless during the history of magic class?
When I got there, I dug up all the books, old newspapers, or journals I could find about the Triwizard tournament. Three wizards, three challenges—all I heard about before. So I started looking through those challenges. Some were extremely dangerous, the kind of dangerous that led to death and serious injuries. One challenge had them toss the contestants in a mine. They were all supposed to find a specific piece of gold with their initials on it. Seems not so bad, right? No, because the moment they started getting comfortable in there, the place was alive with fire—real fire. What kind of sociopath makes those challenges anyway? The place was filled with deadly creatures that are specifically made to resist fire. So the only thing in the tunnel not fire-resistant were the contestants themselves. The worst part, in my opinion, was the fact that they started throwing each other's gold pieces in the fire. Then later throwing each other there. It's horrifying; my hands were sweating while gripping the edge of the book tightly. Miraculously, no one died in that task. But one of the contestants was so damaged he couldn't walk again; another one was so burnt they couldn't recognise him when he came out. I told myself it was ridiculous to be freaked by this task, given that it was set in the 1400s.
As I kept looking, I would notice that the task's difficulty was inversely proportional to time. They got easier than that, calmer maybe, safer. There were precautions taken to ensure no one died, but they still did. One girl in the tournament of 1754 was picked apart by vicious birds. They could barely find a few pieces of flesh to bury.
As I read on, my heart dropped more and more. I was clinging to any hope I could find in there. I could maybe see a pattern that the headmasters of Hogwarts could have somewhat of an effect on the level of viciousness of the tasks. So maybe Dumbledore wouldn't let something too horrible happen, right? But then again, if he had that much say in it, he shouldn't be letting Harry participate in the first place. I couldn't understand the concept of the magical contract either. Everything in here was as vague as what Harry said last night. Just that breaking the contract and not showing up for any of the tasks would lead to consequences. What consequences? Not a clue. I couldn't find anything about it anywhere; no documents of it; even the contestants that sometimes failed to show up—I couldn't find a trace of them anywhere else.
I was getting a bad headache. I glanced at my watch and realised breakfast time was gone for a while now. The words were starting to fuse together.
As I laid my head down on the table, I didn't know if the world was blurry because I was tired or because a few tears were starting to form in my eyes. I closed them instead and found myself drifting off. I couldn't tell if the vision of trying to fit the burnt remains of Harry in one coffin was a nightmare or just the normal visions my mind makes up when I'm awake. I was just in limbo, a very torturous one for a while. Trying to close the lids of some blank lifeless green eyes.
"Emma? Emma, wake up. Get up, Emma."
I was shook awake by a very blurry Hermione Granger. Or at least that's what I saw until I could wipe the remains of sleep and tears from my eyes.
"You alright?" Asked Hermione with a concerned frown.
I nodded unconvincingly. She took a seat next to me. Her eyes roaming over the titles of the books and newspapers in front of me. She sighed heavily and started closing them and collecting them off the table.
"Wait, I'm not done," I started weakly.
"Yes, you are," she said firmly; finality, in her voice. I didn't argue; maybe even I couldn't. She put the books away, clearing the table of any traces of my deep anxiety, then took her place next to me again.
"Nothing is going to happen," she said before I could utter a word. "He's going to be alright; the tournament is not like before; I already talked to Professor McGonagall, and she assured me." She was talking even faster than usual, like she was trying to force it into my mind.
"But what if-" I started, but she wasn't done talking.
"And yes, they might be older than Harry, but how many of them faced you-know-who? I've watched Harry go through worse things those past years. Trust me, he's going to be just alright."
I fell silent; she was talking so urgently, like she needed me to understand that.
I have no one else.
The words echoed in my head like they do every year since we came to Hogwarts. With every close call, every threat, every time I doubt it for just a second. It breaks me.
Hermione told me about Harry and Ron's fight. I never imagined out of anyone Ron wouldn't believe it. They're inseparable; for four years now, that doesn't make sense to me. I just wish this wouldn't last for long.
So let me ask a question: Was it so hard for Malfoy to make the stupid badges say 'Harry Potter sucks' instead of just 'Potter sucks'? I don't think it was. Do I need everyone flashing that thing in my direction all day? No, I don't. But here we are.
Everyone was against him again; once again, it's the regular period of hating Harry Potter that happens every year. And of course, once again, I'm being dragged down with him. Because I'm not a real person, I'm just the other one. I have a great reputation in this school, which is to say, none at all.
Hufflepuffs were absolutely despising me right now. The whole Cedric Diggory is the real Hogwarts champion taking over the school. It doesn't matter how much I say that he didn't put his name in or that even if he did, I'd have nothing to do with it.
But I didn't care about all the Hufflepuff's opinions of me; I just cared about one... and well...
"So you seriously believe that he didn't put his name in?" Said Conan, I was sitting between him and Sarah in the astronomy tower, waiting for class to start.
"I do; I already told you I do," I said, my tone turning cold. I had been telling him about the past few days; I hadn't expected that retort, though.
"What about you?" He asked, looking at Sarah.
"What do you mean, what about me?" Shrugged Sarah, "If Emma says he didn't, then he didn't." I wanted to hug her right now but thought better of it.
"It's just..." He said, rubbing his neck sheepishly, "All I'm saying is that it-"
"That I'm a liar, that's what you're saying," I interrupted, my mind skipping the stages of shock and betrayal and jumping directly to anger—you know, like it always does.
"No, no, not you... it's just..." He hesitated, meeting my eyes, but then it seems like something in him snaps, "Come on now. The only time Hufflepuffs get a chance and we have a champion, all of a sudden the popular troublemaking Gryffindor that has all the attention all the time shows up and takes the spotlight; do you really think that's a coincidence?"
"Of course it's not a coincidence, but it's not his fault either. And you're going to watch your mouth while talking about Harry, or I'm not going to talk to you at all," I snapped.
"I didn't say anything! All I mean is that maybe he just told you that, You don't have to believ-" he retorted. "Come on, don't act childish," he added, because I stopped listening to him, picked up my school bag, and threw it in the row in front of us. It landed right in Ginny's lap.
"Ow...hey!" She protested. I jumped over the desk and sat next to her instead. I could still hear Sarah and Conan argue, but I was too furious to even pay attention to him anymore.
I neither dropped my frown nor spoke a word all through class. Conan tried to talk to me again after class, but I just ignored him and left. I know I might be overreacting, but out of everyone, I didn't want him to doubt me, not with all the confusion and fear I'm feeling right now.
As someone who'd been shoved aside and considered irrelevant for long, I understood the Hufflepuff's point of view. I know that they just wanted a chance, and it's being taken from them now. I know how it feels, and it's not nice. But can't they just think before blaming everything on Harry like everyone always does? It was infuriating, and what was more infuriating is that even my...friend still shared their thoughts.
Needless to say, those days weren't the best. I had to remind myself to study just so Diaz doesn't get ahead of me, but it was too hard—way too hard to focus with everything going on. I was too anxious to talk to Harry because: one, I was really scared, and I didn't want to transfer my anxiety to him. And two, he snapped at nearly anyone who talked to him. I'd say this attitude has more to do with his fight with Ron than the actual tournament though.
What finally made me lose it was the day I was eating my breakfast and heard Harry exclaim, "I didn't say that!"
I got up and joined him and Hermione; they were huddled around the daily prophet.
"What is it?" I asked anxiously. Hermione handed me the paper after they were done and continued trying to calm Harry down. My eyes ran over the article written by Rita Skeeter, and my blood started to boil.
Yes, sometimes at night I still cry about them; I'm not ashamed to admit it... I know nothing will hurt me during the tournament because they're watching over me.
I didn't need to ask Harry if he said any of those words. I knew those were some sick imagination of hers. I was sick of being angry all the time, but it seems I have no choice anymore. What kind of idiotic editor approved such things being published?! How dare she even suggest such ideas that weren't even true?
When Hermione took the paper from me, I had pulled a fistful of it in my fist. At this point, I had two choices. I could burn the school and the daily prophet both down; this choice had a lot of complications, so I wistfully had to let go of it and jump to the other one. So I wrote a long, long letter to Remus instead. Four or five pages of furious scribbling. When I was done, I wasn't sure it was even readable, but I didn't care. He was a professor; he'll figure it out.
I climbed up to the owlery, planning to borrow one of the school owls. But when I got there, Hedwig fluttered down instantly to my shoulder.
"Oh, hi, I thought you were delivering a letter to Padfoot," I said, scratching her head gently. She hooted indignantly. "Don't say he used another owl?!" She closed her eyes, which I took as confirmation. "What an idiot," I muttered, smoothing down her white, snowy feathers. "Well, I could go all the way back to the great hall and ask him for permission to use you... or you could go give that letter to Remus, and if he checks in on you, he'll think you ran away," I said, smiling. The quietness of the owlery was making me feel slightly better, my mind a bit clearer.
I attached the letter to her leg and said goodbye, "We'll show him!"
The days that led to the first task weren't any better. I would get nightmares about the task, every one of them darker the last. Most ended with the same thing. I wouldn't like to recount what happens in the ending, though. You can use your imaginations. With no idea what the task might be, my own awake scenerios might be even worse. That led to me having a very hard time in classes. I was called out for being distracted multiple times by Professor Babbling. Diaz would constantly make torturous comments about me getting behind. I had expected him to make comments about Harry like everyone else does, but somehow he was wise enough not to do that. I don't think I would've thought twice before hexing him if he did.
The dread I felt every time I entered the defence against the dark arts class. Don't get me wrong, the classes were good. Professor Moody showed us a lot of new spells and dark creatures. Many of them were really interesting. But still, something about Moody always made me feel like I'm watched, like I should always be aware of something or someone. I know it sounds crazy, but maybe I am going crazy; I don't know.
Just a couple of days before the first task, it was set to be something I had been very excited for. Our first Hogsmead weekend. But by the time it was there, my mind was too overwhelmed by too many things to care anymore. And thinking about Hogsmead made me remember a conversation I had last year with Conan, which reminded me of how much I missed talking to him. I was adamant on ignoring him since we argued in the astronomy tower. I had actually thought multiple times of trying to make it right with him. But I knew I didn't do anything wrong, and even if I did, I wouldn't have admitted it anyway.
So I considered not going to Hogsmead, but when I tried mentioning it in front of Sarah, I brought myself an entire day of nonstop chatter about how much fun I'd have if I went. When this reached Ginny, though, the convincing chatter turned into threats—serious ones. I don't think I had a choice anymore.
I wouldn't admit it out loud, but I really did have fun. Hogsmead was a nice break from all the dreading. It has everything—plenty of shops that sell books, stationery, clothes, broomsticks, sweets, and, of course, joke shops. Fred and George showed me Zonko's like its their natural habitat (it might be, we're not sure). They showed me crazy items made purely for pranks and some stuff they're trying to duplicate but with a few differences. Maybe in different circumstances, I would enjoy Hogsmead far more; I'm sure of it
Soon, it was the day of the first task; I woke up very early.
Ha, got you, you thought I slept, didn't you? You should know me better by now.
So after a few hours of turning and tossing in bed, the flicker of sun sneaked from the window and bothered my restless eyes, and I just got up. I was too tired to go anywhere, so I went to the deserted great hall, even though it was still at least an hour till breakfast. The hall was really weird like that. I bet if I breathed too loudly, it'd echo through it. I've never seen it like that; it was eerie, like a haunted house. Except even ghosts weren't here like they usually are. I put my head in my hands and let out a sigh.
He's going to be okay. I told myself, then kept repeating it inside me like I was doing one of those sleep activities (they don't work by the way).
He's going to be okay
He's going to be okay
He's going to be okay.
The sound of something above me snapped me out of my self-inflicted trance. I looked up, and it was Hedwig. I forrowed my eyebrows as she landed on the table, dropping a letter in front of me. I didn't understand why she was here that early. Usually the post comes later, through breakfast.
"Why are you here this early?" I asked. Glad I could speak out loud, even if to an owl. As I expected, my voice echoed through greatly. Hedwig started picking around the empty table. "I'm sorry, girl, it's not time for breakfast yet; I'll get you some later, alright?" She let me scratch her head then set off again, leaving me with a cluttered mind and a letter that I wish is just as cluttered.
Apparently, anyone could reassure me. Hermione, Ginny, and Harry himself. But as long as there's no Remus Lupin signed at the end of a letter, I won't actually believe it. He told me he's sure Harry's not going to get seriously hurt and that he'd already been talking to Professor McGonagall, who reassured him. He told me that Skeeter has always been writing things about people that way. Anyone with some common sense knows that her articles are a joke, so I don't have to worry.
I'm very grateful you wrote to me, even with how angry the letter seemed. Speaking of which, if you hadn't punched anyone yet, I'm really proud of you.
I'm waiting for your letter after the task to tell me that it went okay.
Yours, Remus Lupin
I smiled as I finished reading it, feeling so much better. I was still anxious, still dreading, but now, when my mind plays its barbaric scenarios, I could just tell it that Remus thinks those scenarios are stupid.
A while later, when it was finally breakfast time and the hall was slowly filling up. I was trying to convince myself to take another bite of my eggs when someone slid next to me.
"Are you going to be mad at me forever now?" Asked Conan.
"This is not your table," I said coldly, not looking up from my plate.
"I know, I just wanted to see what the hall looks like from the side."
"Is that so?"
"Come on, Emma..." He groaned and took my hand. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry; I didn't mean to say all of that; I was being stupid."
"I'm trying to eat," I said weakly, but made no attempt to pull my hand away.
"I believe you, alright? I was just mad about the whole double champion thing, but if you say he didn't put his name in, then he didn't."
I met his eyes; it didn't really matter what he said or didn't; I was just glad he's talking to me again. "It's really hard for me, Conan. This whole thing... it's not a privilege for him."
"I know..." He said, squeezing my hand reassuringly, "It'll be alright."
I couldn't help but smile and squeeze his hand back.
"Soo... you're talking to me again?"
I sighed. "Guess so," I said, faking reluctance.
He smiled too, "Good, because you did promise me something last year, and I need you to actually be talking to me when I take you up on it."
"What thing?" I asked, confused.
He shrugged and got up, "See you at the task, Emma."
"What?! No, wait, what thing?" I called after him; he ignored me and went back to the Hufflepuff table.
"I'm going to kill you, Walker," I muttered, stabbed my food with my fork. I was still smiling though.
After grilling Hagrid for answers, I found out that the champions were staying at some tent in the grounds. There were huge stands set up in what looked like a big arena. I could feel the dread seep in me, but I ignored it and focused on the task at hand. I wasn't even supposed to be here; I was trying to sneak into the tent. Why? No idea, just keeping myself busy. Also, I didn't really get to see Harry before Professor McGonagall took him here. Although I know it might get him in trouble if I was caught right now.
I could see Ludo Bagman somewhere in the distance, talking loudly to Professor Moody. I swallowed hard. Moody is the last person I want to catch me right now. But it was too late to back down now. Besides, the forbidden forest's trees were a good hideout. I just have to sneak behind them till I get to the tent.
I heard Delacour shriek when I stumbled in and lost my balance. I got up, wincing slightly as I rubbed my hip. "What?! I'm not the task, don't worry," I said. Harry pulled me aside before I could spot him. Fluer Delacour and Victor Krum were eyeing me suspiciously, but they didn't say anything. Diggory was in a corner talking to himself. He looked up and just smiled at me. I struggled not to blush.
"What are you doing here?!" Asked Harry in irritation.
"That's a... good question... I don't know, I just wanted to check on you, I guess," I said, rubbing my neck sheepishly.
It seemed like he wanted to snap at me but thought better of it."Well I'm... I'm alright, but you shouldn't be caught here."
"Do you know anything about the task yet?"
He pursed his lips, opened his mouth, and then closed it again. "Okay, don't freak out." He started, lowering his voice to a whisper, "It's dragons."
Harry clapped his hand on my mouth mid-shriek. "Shhh, not in front of them; calm down," he whispered.
"Calm down?! You want me to calm down?! How could I? Dragons?! What are they crazy?! Harry, you can't-" I whispered in disbelief.
"I have a plan; don't worry."
"A plan?! What kind of plan?"
"I can't explain right now, but you have to trust me, alright? Don't freak out," he whispered again.
"Hey, Emma... I think you should go; they're coming in a second," called Diggory, glancing outside the tent cautiously.
I stared at Harry, trying to think of anything to reassure him. I couldn't come up with anything.
"Harry.."
"Yes?"
"Cedric Diggory knows my name!"
"Get out"
I was sneaking back towards the place they had the rest of the students in when I felt someone grab my arm. I jumped and gasped, pulling it away. It was a woman in magenta robes, I've never seen in Hogwarts before, she was studying me like I'm an ant under a microscope.
"Who are you? I saw you sneak into the tent. Do you know one of the champions?" She asked, her tone giddy and questioning.
"I...erm..." I started, taking a step back.
"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself, I'm Reeta Skeeter. You seem to know one of the champions, what's your name?" She said, trying to make her tone polite and failing.
The name echoed in my mind, making my blood boil. So she was just standing here like a little thief trying to get information that she's going to twist all up later anyway. "Emma Potter" I answered coldly, knowing that'll get her.
"Oh... you're the other one... well you're no use" she muttered then went back to looking over the tent. I stood there, stunned at her reaction. What's that supposed to mean? I wanted to stay and call her out on what she'd written but a word echoed in my mind.
Dragons.
I huffed in frustration, and without thinking, I just knocked her quill out of her hand then ran, back to the rest of the students. And this, ladies and gentlemen, was the most childish act I did yet, stay tuned, I'm not done.
The Gryffindor crowd was loud, so loud you'd think they'd drown the voices in my head, but no, not a chance.
Dragons
There were dragons; they're supposed to face dragons. Not in my worst nightmares did I imagine they'd be dragons in Hogwarts. The picture of the burnt face of the kid from the mine task was tattooed on my eyelids now. I can't blink without seeing him.
"Emma, are you okay?" Bellowed Sarah above the crowd's noise, "You're pale!"
I couldn't answer; I just nodded, unable to form a word. Clenching my fists to keep steady.
And that's when I saw it. A huge bluish-grey dragon entered the center of the field. Ludo Bagman's voice echoed in through the entire grounds, saying things I couldn't even register.
I could barely make out a small figure that showed up; the Hogwarts stands exploded with cheering, which made my heart drop. But it wasn't Harry; it was Cedric Diggory. I felt a little relieved, but now my hands were shivering. It's like I was slowly losing my senses. I couldn't decipher what Bagman was saying; I couldn't clearly see the field. My mind was full of questions; it was all getting foggy, from the outside and the inside. All I could do was stare at my hands in my lap as they shook. Before I knew it, people were cheering louder than the first time. I looked up, and I could barely see another dragon coming up. Another pang of dread comes...but it's Delacour. I clenched my fist. It's like I'm on a rollercoaster; my heart is beating faster. Something might be actually wrong with me; the students all around me seemed to get closer without moving off their chairs. I was sweating more than anyone should in November. I fumbled with my scarf, trying to loosen it; it still felt like it was strangling me. People wouldn't stop shouting and yelling and bellowing various things that I couldn't even understand. I didn't even notice any of the scores. I saw a different dragon enter.
Yet another pang of dread.
Krum.
It's killing me; my chest hurts. Air is not reaching my lungs. And if it is, it's not filling it right. I breathed again and again, but it wouldn't get in. When I reached a shaking hand to touch my face, there were cold tears there. I don't remember crying; I don't feel like I am. I didn't know what to do to stop the pain in my chest. To stop my mind from being so blurry, I had to focus; it was only Harry remaining; I have to see; I have to be able to understand what's happening, but I can't... another very big cheer and another dragon in. I knew it was Harry, but I couldn't see him; my eyes were blurry. I have no idea why I can't see anymore.
What's happening?
What's happening?
I wanted to see; the crowd was quieter than it usually is, but I barely even registered that. I looked up; I was almost sure that dragon was far bigger than the other three. But I wasn't sure of my own consciousness right now. I was panting for air like I've been running; I pulled my scarf completely off; I could feel someone shaking my shoulder, but I didn't know who. Suddenly, the crowd gave a huge shriek, and...and everything went dark.