Mischief - Book Two of the RP Saga

29. Brooding Pensieve's

"Have you been informed about the third task yet, Harry?" Rachel asked her brother.

The two twins walked side by side, looking more alike each day, as they headed for a casual stroll around school. It was getting late and they were due to head back into their common rooms in a few minutes, but they both wanted to stretch out their walk for as long as they could.

"No, nothing." Harry replied, somewhat disgruntled.

"Hmm," Rachel pondered, "perhaps I could speak to Cedric I know I haven't talked to him in... well, a while. But I'm sure he'd still be happy to help! Hermione could talk to Krum and, well, I doubt Ron can ever speak to Fleur after the Yule Ball again."

Harry sniggered, he agreed silently and let out a sigh. The sooner the tournament was over the better. Then, he could go back to being Harry, not this phony Harry that 60% of people still believed he cheated his way onto the tournament. Just the thought of it was agitating him. When would it end? This pathetic drama, all for a stupid tournament Harry didn't believe in. He already had enough attention without the Triwizard cup, if anything this heeded him from hiding away and becoming one of the crowd.

"Hey," Rachel nudged Harry, "I know that look."

"It's nothing." Harry grunted, trying to ease Rachel's thoughts. But it didn't work.

"It clearly is." She replied, stopping her walk and jumping onto a window ledge to sit down. "But just think: one more task. Only one more!"

"I'd rather it be none." Harry said as he took a seat next to her.

"Yes, but, you're ahead of the game. You and Cedric drawing at 1st. If you win this next task, you've won completely!"

"Easier said than done." He replied, he didn't want to take part and it was so tiring. 

The stress that led up to the task gave him such anxiety, he feared he wouldn't be able to do it at all. But Rachel pushed that aside, she repeatedly told him it was just in his head and was nothing to worry about. 'The judges won't let the famous Harry Potter die'  she had once said. That was another thing Harry hated to be true.

"God, you're so pessimistic." Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Me?" Harry turned to her. "If anything you're more-"

Before Harry could confront his sister, they were both interrupted. Professor McGonagall stood before them, her face was grim and tired, it looked as though to be with the twins was the last place she wanted to be right now. Which, in all fairness, was an okay thought. The Potter's often brought trouble with them wherever they went, all unintentional of course.

Rachel and Harry hopped up from the seats, preparing to be told off. It was now getting extremely close to their curfew and by now they should be in their common rooms doing homework - like Hermione - or sitting around in one of the sofas - like Ron. But the discipline never came.

"Potter," McGonagall said to Harry, "Dumbledore wishes to see you in his office, now if you don't mind."

Harry mumbled some sort of agreement before scurrying off, quickly waving to his sister as he went. Rachel shot him a small smile before looking at the Professor. McGonagall began to walk away, in the direction of the Gryffindor common room and signalled Rachel to join her. Awkwardly, Rachel jogged over and walked silently next to the transfiguration professor.

The walk, for the most part, was silent and awkward. Rachel tried racking her brain to say something but she could not think. Should she comment on how nice the colour of her robes were? Or perhaps how tired she looked? No, Rachel thought, the silence was probably for the best.