Beginners: book 1, Goblet of Fire

Divination and Jinxing

After our Hogsmeade visit, the months fly by, spent feverishly catching up from all the lessons we pushed back in the final weeks before the second task. Any spare moment I find is used with Luis, hidden somewhere in the castle. We fall into an easy pattern of schoolwork, seeing Luis and visiting Sirius on the weekends. We all ended up behind in our weeks of staying up in the library, every spare second is spent trying to catch up. Our new normal also sees Harry and I up half the nights of the week, not speaking.

Our drawling routine is broken by Rita Skeeter, who releases an article claiming Hermione, Harry and Victor are in a love triangle. This prompts a slew of hate mail coming for Hermione nearly every morning. Harry seems to be more bothered than her, but I can tell the taunting of the Slytherins is starting to get through to her. One night, I swear I hear her crying from her four-poster. But, she keeps a strong facade, remaining unbothered even after one card contains a potion that makes her break out in boils.

Exams are fast approaching, but lucky for Harry, he doesn't have to take any, exempt so he can focus on the third task, which will be announced any day now. Hermione seems to have taken on a much larger workload to distract herself from the fact that it seems everyone who's ever read a Daily Prophet hates her. She is now convinced Skeeter is eavesdropping on us and now spends her free time trying to figure out how on top of organizing S.P.E.W and getting her mountains of work done. I've had to take up most of the boys-support, but I don't mind it. After our first visit with Sirius, I feel more like a part of this group than ever, and in exchange for their friendship, I'm happy to edit a few essays.

Thus, Harry and I are up again, each doing respective schoolwork while the embers burn. He's hunched over my potions essay, trying to write his own while I read up on herbology work.

"Right, I think I've done it." He says, sitting up.

I scoot over, so I'm sitting right next to him, he hands me his essay, and I begin to read and edit. Like Hermione, I make sure he understands what I'm changing. But as I point out mistakes in his quantities of crushed beetle wing, he stares into the embers. I'm finished rather quickly, he and Ron are getting better with each lesson.

"Harry?" I say, he didn't notice I'd stopped working on his paper.

"Hm?" He says, still looking into the fire.

"We should go to bed," I say, ushering Crookshanks off my lap.

"You're done?" He snaps out of his daze. "Thanks."

"Yeah, let me know if you have any questions." I get up and head to the girl's dormitory.

"Yeah, I'll erm, be up in a minute," Harry says, tidying up the mess we'd left.

"Harry,"

"Yeah?" He looks up from the quills he's collecting.

"It was really good, your paper. You and Ron aren't as dumb as you put yourselves out to be."

"Erm, thanks." And with that, I head up the stairs.

During transfiguration the next day, Professor McGonagall holds Harry back. We all hover near the door, ready to hear what she's telling him when he's finished.

"She wants me to go to the Quidditch pitch at half-past eight." He says, coming out of class.

"To announce the last task?" Hermione says as we head down the hall.

"Probably," Harry grunts.

"What d'you reckon it's going to be?" Ron asks.

"No clue," He says again.