Lillian 'Anna' Potter || Goblet of Fire

Chapter Thirty: The First Task

“Dragons? Bloody dragons? Are you joking?”

She, Harry, and Hermione sat in the Gryffindor common room as Anna fumed about Harry’s newly discovered information.

“Don’t worry your head off. I’ve already made sure Cedric knows, and I already have a plan on how to get through the task using a summoning charm to get my Firebolt.”

“And you got this brilliant idea from Mad-Eye Moody.”

“What’s wrong with Professor Moody? Wasn’t it your thing with the entire ‘you can’t judge someone unless you know him’?”

Yeah, and he was the same man who had coerced her into accepting a dangerous substance even though he was supposed to be her mentor and teach her how to handle grief and emotions properly and in a healthy way. Not in a bag of powder that could literally kill you if you took it a second or third time.

She didn’t trust him. Not one bit.

Instead, Anna stood up and began packing her quills and inks in her school bag, slinging a second leathery one on her shoulder. “Well, I have to go and give Cedric a new bag - given that you’re the one who thought with your fat head that the only way you could talk to him alone was by destroying his old one.”

She tried to act nonchalant, avoiding the subject of the first task, but she couldn’t quite hide the trembling in her fingers.

How was she supposed to feel? Anna couldn’t exactly relax, knowing her brother was going to face massive dragons and there was someone after him. But she only took a deep breath, and settled for a small smile. “Don’t worry. I trust you to beat this thing. Just..be careful, and let me take care of you for now.”

So that’s exactly what she did.

In the few days they had left for the first task, every evening, Anna and Hermione would help Harry practice his summoning charm - sometimes calmly, and sometimes under pressure, with Harry having to use the charm while Anna threw large textbooks in his direction.

By the eve of the task, Harry seemed to be an expert, but she didn’t sleep a wink that night - haunted by worries for both her brother and Cedric, and from the quietness of Hermione’s bunk, she could tell she wasn’t the only one anxious.

“That’s disgusting, Anna. You really shouldn’t drink that.” Hermione said, pointing dramatically at her rather large cup of coffee - black. “The coffee here is already poisonous, and needs at least 5 packets of sugar and equally balanced with milk to be deemed edible. Your drink is practically motor oil.”

Anna ignored her wide eyes as she stubbornly took another large sip. “It tastes fine, Hermione. Besides, I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.”

Contrary to her previous statement, her drink did taste like death, but it also helped keep her awake after many sleepless nights, and it distracted her from the building anxiety in her stomach as each match passed.

She knew she had done all she could to help her brother win this thing, but as a sister, worrying was just in her nature. Anything could happen to him during this tournament that someone else put him in. And his death would just be considered an 'accident'.

But the part that killed her the most was that all she could do was sit in the sidelines and watch.

Then it was Harry’s turn.

It started smoothly enough. He summoned his Firebolt quickly and began zooming quickly around the enclosure - barely escaping each jet of flame sent his way as he flew.

On one swerve, he didn’t dodge fast enough, and one of the Horntail’s spikes grazed his shoulder, and blood soaked into his crimson robes and splattered onto the grass below on time with Hermione’s shriek.

Anna’s fingernails made small crescents on her thighs, but she never took her eyes off her brother - she wasn’t sure if she even blinked. But she refused to miss anything. She just had to endure this. Even if she hated just watching. Even if she hated the itchy feeling of powerlessness.

Luckily, Harry also seemed to have inherited the same mindset of endurance, and he kept flying higher and higher despite his injury - drawing the Horntail’s attention with him until he suddenly swerved and dived downwards, grabbing the egg with his uninjured arm as he flew up and out of reach of the dragon’s clutches proudly.  

Ginny clutched at Anna’s arm as she jumped up and down excitedly, hollering all the timw, “See that? I told you he could do it! Go Harry!” She yelled - pride echoing throughout her cry.

And Anna - subdued, pensive Anna stood and began cheering, screaming, and laughing at the top of her lungs along with the roars of the crowd.

Because despite everything; despite Harry having not submitted his name into the cup, despite his age and lack of ability, Harry had done it.

She wasn't sure before, but she was now. With enough work, and enough time, anything was possible. And Harry would survive this.