Memories of the Heart || Harry Potter x Reader

Y4 ~ The Goblet of Fire

The amber glow of the setting sun bathed the Black Lake in golden hues, its surface rippling gently as a crisp autumn breeze carried the earthy scent of pine and damp soil. The faint laughter of students lingered in the air, blending with the rhythmic lapping of water against the shore. Nearby, Ron crouched at the lake's edge, his brow furrowed as he examined a flat stone in his palm, his grin as confident as ever.

"They're drawing the names tonight," he said, winding his arm back. "Bet you anything Krum's getting picked for Durmstrang. It's Krum—he's practically a legend." With a sharp flick of his wrist, the stone skipped across the water, leaving a trail of ripples before vanishing into the depths.

Harry, leaning casually against a tree with his arms crossed, smirked. "Bit of a safe guess, don't you think? That's like betting on Snape sneering at us in class tomorrow."

Hermione, perched on a low boulder with her quill poised over parchment, barely glanced up. "If Krum's a legend, it's because he worked for it. Unlike you two, who'll probably spend your lives figuring out how to charm socks to fold themselves."

Ron straightened, ready to argue, but faltered as Hermione's lips curved into a triumphant smile. "Charming socks isn't as useless as you think," he huffed. "Socks are important!"

A few paces away, Y/N sat on a weathered log, her focus buried in a potions textbook. Her brows knitted as her finger traced a line of text, but despite the serene scene, unease clung to her. The buzz of the Triwizard Tournament hung heavy in the air, bringing excitement, yes, but also a quiet dread. The thought of her new friends facing those dangers stirred a knot in her chest.

"Y/N, you've been so quiet today," Hermione's voice broke through, her concern laced with curiosity. "Are you all right?"

Y/N hesitated, her thumb brushing the edge of the page as if it might ground her. "I'm fine," she replied softly, though her eyes lingered on the book. "Just... thinking."

Ron dropped onto the grass beside Hermione, his tone teasing. "She's probably plotting what to say when Fred and George's aging potion backfires. Heard them whispering about it earlier."

Y/N's lips twitched. "Looking forward to saying, 'I told you so.'"

Hermione's grin widened as she nudged Y/N's shoulder lightly. "That'll be quite the spectacle. Though, imagine if one of them actually managed to get picked. They'd spend the whole tournament making everyone laugh."

A faint chuckle escaped Y/N as the tension in her chest loosened. "Fred tripping over his robes, or George trying to duel a dragon with a joke wand?"

The group dissolved into laughter, the sound blending with the rustling leaves. For a moment, Y/N allowed herself to relax—until she noticed her hands were suddenly empty. She blinked, looking up sharply.

"Looking for this?"

There stood Harry, several feet away, holding her potions book high above his head. His green eyes sparkled with mischief, his grin utterly unapologetic.

"Harry!" Y/N exclaimed, rising abruptly. Her voice was a mix of indignation and amusement as she took a step forward. "Give that back!"

"You're always studying," he called over his shoulder, already darting away. "Take a break for once!"

"Harry Potter, I'm serious!" she shouted, her tone losing its edge as she chased after him.

Ron jumped to his feet, laughing as he gestured for Hermione to follow. "Come on, let's help her!"

Hermione stood, shaking her head but smiling fondly. "Somehow, I doubt Y/N needs our help," she quipped, jogging after them.

Y/N was determined, though her breath quickened as she neared Harry. "Fine! Keep it! But don't blame me if it's cursed," she shot back, her grin slipping through her faux annoyance.