33. to hell and back.

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Antheia awoke full of regret.

The night before, she had gotten sick of the screaming people in the common room and fell asleep before Harry had returned.

He's going to think I'm a terrible friend, she thought.

She ran to the Great Hall and grabbed a couple of pieces of toast and treacle tart on a napkin. She knew Harry wouldn't want to face the school and be bombarded with insults, questions, and whatever else defensive Hufflepuffs or over-excited Gryffindors would have. Besides, Harry loved treacle tart.

When she arrived at the portrait door, it opened immediately and she saw Harry stood by it, looking thoroughly exhausted.

"Harry," she said, with a sigh of relief. "I got you some food. Do you want to eat at the Quidditch pitch?"

"Good idea," said Harry, gratefully.

They went downstairs, crossed the Entrance Hall quickly without looking in at the Great Hall, and were soon staring up at the tall Quidditch goalposts from the bleachers. It was a chilly morning, and Harry told Antheia exactly what had happened after he had left the Gryffindor table the night before.

"I believe you, of course -" started Antheia.

"You do?" said Harry, with a look of immense relief.

"Why wouldn't I?" said Antheia. "I'd be on your side to hell and back."

Harry chuckled. "Ron didn't seem to support me. He thinks I'm lying."

"Harry ... Ron believes you, I'm sure of it. It's just that -"

Antheia hesitated.

"What do you mean?"

"Harry, he's jealous!"

"Jealous?" said Harry incredulously. "Jealous of what? He wants to make a prat of himself in front of the whole school, does he?"

"Listen," said Antheia, cautiously, "I know you don't appreciate the attention but, you do get it - a lot. And - and Ron has so many brothers and they all have their accomplishments so, I guess he's always shunted to the side. Even with you, being his best friend and all. He usually just puts up with it, but I guess this was too much for even him."

"Great," said Harry bitterly. "Really great. Tell him from me I'll swap any time he wants. Tell him from me he's welcome to it ... people gawping at my forehead everywhere I go ..."

"Harry, you two have to sort this out," Antheia said. "It's really quite ridiculous."

"He should have to sort this out!" Harry said, so loudly that several owls in a nearby tree took flight in alarm. "Maybe he'll believe I'm not enjoying myself once I've gotten my neck broken or-"

'Harry don't -" Antheia said quickly. She bit her lip anxiously. "Harry, don't say that. Maybe we should just -"

"Give Ron a good kick up the -"

"Well - no. Maybe another time. Write to Sirius. He'd want to know."

"Come off it," said Harry, looking around to check that they couldn't be overheard; but the grounds were quite deserted. "He came back to the country just because my scar twinged. He'll probably come bursting right into the castle if I tell him someone's entered me for the Triwizard Tournament -"

"He's going to find out anyway, whether you like it or not. This Tournament's famous - and so are you. It's going to be all over the Daily Prophet," said Antheia, "and Sirius would rather hear it from you."

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