Falling Star

The Fight

The name hangs heavily in the air like mist after a stormy night. Harry sits frozen in his seat, and his eyes are wide in shock and panic. After a moment, Hermione smacks Harry on the arm and urges him to go forward with the rest of the Champions.

Harry stands on stiff legs and awkwardly walks forward. Dumbledore and the rest of the teachers wear a scowl that thinly masks their concern. How could this happen? Harry is only a fourth year; this has to be a mistake.

I anxiously look to Hermione, but her gaze is fixed on Harry. Ron doesn't meet my eyes either; he seems to find the table in front of us fascinating. His face has also turned a bright shade of red.

Dumbledore, in an attempt to salvage the high spirits of the ceremony, shouts, "A round of applause for the new Champions!" And begins clapping furiously.

Eventually, we all break out of our daze and follow suit.

Harry and the other Champions are whisked away with Dumbledore, Crouch, and a few other teachers. Those of us remaining in the Great Hall are forcefully told to return to our dormitories by the prefects of our houses.

The walk back to the common room with Ron and Hermione is quiet. Hermione still looks a bit anxious, but I can tell she is now in problem solving mode. Ron is just scowling at the floor, looking in no mood for conversation.

Once we get back to the common room, I take a seat on the floor by the fire, hugging my knees to my chest and resting my chin on my knees. My eyes drift closed, and I let the heat from the fire burn away the stress clinging to me. This always helps me focus and relax; I come here to sit often before exams or after squabbles with friends or my brother.

Ron stomps his way to a table by the window, and Hermione slumps into the chair closest to me and the fire.

We remain quiet until most of the other Gryffindors head upstairs.

"This has to be a mistake. They can't let him compete," I say softly to anyone listening.

Ron snorts but says nothing. I raise my eyebrows at Hermione, silently asking, what's up with him?

She shrugs and also says nothing.

Against my better judgement, I turn to Ron ask, "What's wrong with you? You've been acting weird since the ceremony."

Ron rolls his eyes at me. "I just find it interesting that the Chosen One is now getting even more attention."

I balk at the implication of his words. "You don't seriously think Harry did this on purpose, do you? He wanted nothing to do with this tournament."

Ron just shrugs and mumbles something I can't hear. Before I can tell him to speak up, the portrait hole swings open and a confused, frowning Harry enters the common room.

Hermione and I scramble to our feet and rush to him. Ron mutters something about being tired and makes for the boy's dormitories.

Hermione and I both look at Harry expectantly.

"Well?" Hermione prods breathlessly.

"They said I have to compete. The magic is binding,"
Harry replies.

Hermione pales at the response, and my stomach drops.

I shake my head. "No. There was a mistake. They can't force you to compete." He is too young and still has so much to learn about magic before even standing a chance in this competition.