Flames Of Destiny // HJP [1]

Chapter Twelve : Winky ֶָ֢

「 ✦ 12 ✦ 」

𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓇼

⋆˚࿔ (Y/N) 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

𝕿һᥲ𝗍 evening, (Y/n), Harry, Hermione, and finally Ron—who was still sweating and nervous after watching Harry face the dragon earlier—made their way up to the Owlery. Ron had been a mess during the task, and now that he'd seen just how terrifying it had been, he finally believed that Harry hadn't put his own name into the Goblet of Fire. He realised no one in their right mind would volunteer for such a dangerous challenge, especially after seeing how shaky Harry's legs were after the ordeal. That realisation had driven Ron to the hospital wing to check on Harry, congratulate him, and offer a much-needed apology while Harry was being treated for his burns.

Now, they were off to the Owlery so Harry could send a letter to Sirius, letting him know he'd made it past the dragon relatively unscathed. On the way, Harry filled Ron in on what Sirius had said about Karkaroff, which left Ron visibly stunned at first. (Meanwhile, (Y/n) was lost in her own thoughts, still amazed at Viktor Krum's performance during the task. Krum and Harry were tied for first place, even though Krum had lost a few points for damaging his egg.)

By the time they reached the Owlery, Ron had absorbed the information and was starting to piece things together.

"Fits, doesn't it?" Ron muttered. "Remember what Malfoy said on the train, about his dad being friends with Karkaroff? Now we know where they knew each other. They were probably running around in masks together at the World Cup. ... I'll tell you one thing, though, Harry—if Karkaroff put your name in the Goblet, he's going to feel really stupid now, isn't he? Didn't work, did it? You only got a scratch! Come here, I'll do it—"

Pigwidgeon, Ron's tiny hyperactive owl, was beside himself with excitement, fluttering frantically around Harry's head and hooting non-stop. Ron, clearly used to this by now, grabbed the little bird out of the air and held him still while Harry attached the letter to Pig's leg.

"There's no way any of the other tasks are going to be as dangerous as this one," Ron continued as he carried Pigwidgeon over to the window. "You know what? I reckon you could actually win this tournament, Harry. I'm serious."

(Y/n) rolled her eyes but didn't argue. Ron had a point—Harry was the protagonist of the whole story, after all. But she also knew Ron was only trying to make up for the way he'd treated Harry over the past few weeks. Harry, however, seemed to appreciate the sentiment, giving Ron a grateful smile.

Hermione, leaning against the wall of the Owlery with her arms folded, didn't look as convinced.

"Harry's got a long way to go before this tournament is over," she said seriously. "If that was just the first task, I don't even want to think about what's coming next."

"Oh, what a ray of sunshine you are," Ron teased. "You and Professor Trelawney should hang out sometime."

With that, he tossed Pigwidgeon out of the window. The tiny owl dropped about twelve feet before finally catching himself, his flight wobbly from the weight of the letter. They watched as he disappeared into the dark sky, the letter flapping against his leg.

"Well, we'd better get downstairs for your surprise party, Harry," Ron said, grinning. "Fred and George should've nicked enough food from the kitchens by now."

Sure enough, when (Y/n), Harry, Hermione, and Ron entered the Gryffindor common room, it erupted into cheers and yells once more. The entire room was buzzing with excitement. Mountains of cakes and flagons of pumpkin juice and butterbeer were spread across every available surface. Lee Jordan had set off some Filibuster's Fireworks, filling the air with stars and colourful sparks, while Dean Thomas—whom (Y/n) had only just now realised was quite the artist—had hung up some impressive banners. Most depicted Harry zooming around the Horntail on his Firebolt, though a few featured Cedric with his hair hilariously on fire.