The Goblet Of Fire - Hermione Granger x OC

Medical Tent

Professor McGonagall had ordered Oliver to immediately go see Madam Pomfrey in the medical tent after his harrowing battle with the dragon.

"Ah, Oliver, I figured I'd be seeing you based on what I heard outside," Madam Pomfrey said as Oliver walked into the tent.

He winced as he tightly held his badly burnt arm, the pain coursing through his body, and his robes stained with blood.

"I'm just happy I'm alive, honestly," Oliver managed to say, his voice slightly trembling from the adrenaline and the realization of how close he had come to danger.

Oliver obediently sat down on a nearby bed, feeling a mix of fatigue and relief washing over him, as he waited for Madam Pomfrey to attend to his injuries. The medical tent was bustling with activity, filled with injured students and the occasional cries of pain.

The curtained walls provided a semblance of privacy for each bed, allowing the wounded a moment of reprieve from prying eyes and the constant buzz of fear and anxiety that hung in the air.

"Dragons!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, a mix of frustration and exasperation in her voice, as she opened Oliver's curtain. "First, they allowed Dementors into the school last year, and now dragons! What are they bringing to this school next?" Her words echoed the dismay and incredulity felt by many, as the safety of Hogwarts seemed increasingly compromised.

"Tell me about it," Oliver retorted, his voice thick with sarcasm.

Madam Pomfrey assessed his injuries. "Oh, that cut is bad. I'm going to need to clean it. Please sit quietly for a moment while I retrieve the necessary supplies."

Weary and sore, Oliver obediently lay down on the bed, letting out a heavy sigh of exhaustion. The weight of his recent battle was still heavy on his mind.

Just as Oliver thought he would be left alone with his thoughts, the curtain suddenly flew open once again, revealing Henry standing there. Surprise flickered in Oliver's eyes as he locked gazes with him. A relieved smile spread across Henry's face.

"So you survived?" Henry asked, unable to contain his relief.

"Barely," Oliver responded, a small yet genuine smile tugging at the corners of his weary lips.

The two brothers shared an awkward yet genuine moment of silence, their eyes speaking volumes of the shared experiences and emotions they had both faced. Henry was the first to break the silence, his voice laced with understanding.

"I suppose you'd have to be insane to put your name in that goblet, huh?"

"Finally, you've caught on, have you?"

"Listen, I-"

Oliver abruptly interrupted, his voice cutting through the tension like a sharpened blade. "It's okay."

"No, Oliver, really, I-" Henry attempted to explain, desperation permeating his tone.

Once again, Oliver interrupted him, his voice filled with warmth and understanding. "Henry, it's okay."

In a swift motion, fueled by an overwhelming surge of emotion, Henry reached out and tightly embraced Oliver, as if he had been longing to do so for an eternity. The sheer force of the hug conveyed unspoken words of proud admiration and unwavering support.

"You did great, I knew you would," Henry whispered, his voice filled with genuine pride. Their eyes locked, reflecting a shared understanding of the perils that lay ahead.

"No matter what happens, we're a team now," Henry continued, determination resonating in every word. "I've got your back until the very end."

"Thank you, Henry," Oliver expressed with a heartfelt smile, gratitude evident in his voice.

"Awwww," Hermione's voice chimed in, appearing in the tent unnoticed. "Do you two need your own room?"

A chorus of laughter erupted between the boys, Hermione's light-hearted remark bringing a moment of levity to the weighty atmosphere.

However, Hermione's expression quickly shifted to concern as she approached Oliver. "Are you alright, Oliver?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine worry as she examined his wounds.

"I'll live," Oliver responded, trying to downplay the severity of his injuries.

Hermione's eyes widened as she noticed the burn mark on Oliver's arm. "Oh my god, you're burnt to a crisp!"

"You got burned too? Show me," Henry chimed in, his curiosity piqued.

Oliver obediently rolled up his sleeve, revealing the scorched skin beneath. The trio gathered around, a camaraderie built from shared experiences and unyielding support.

"Ouch, that had to hurt. So did this," Henry said, pointing to a burn mark on his own face.

Laughter filled the air as the boys playfully compared their battle scars, finding solace and amusement in each other's shared struggle.

Hermione looked on, shaking her head, unable to understand how they found their playful banter amusing. "Boys," she muttered under her breath, playfully rolling her eyes at their camaraderie.

She couldn't help but admire the deep bond Oliver and Henry shared, even in the midst of adversity. While their wounds and scars told tales of pain and sacrifice, the lightheartedness they brought to each other was a testament to the resilience of their spirits.