Hogwarts is My Home (A Harry Potter Fanfiction), Part 4/7

Chapter 13

The first task is drawing nearer and nearer. It's the only thing that gets us through our increasing work, the teachers are taking the O.W.L.s extremely seriously. Also, I'm going on Quidditch withdrawal. Rita Skeeter has written an article in the Daily Prophet that mostly featured Potter. Most of the front page is taken up by a large picture of him. The article was all about him. Delacour and Krum are mentioned at the end, their names misspelled, and Diggory isn't in there at all. Draco enjoys reading the article out loud. Even though the article was published ten days ago.

"I suppose I get my strength from my parents," he quotes. "I know they'd be very proud of me if they could see me now. . . . Yes, sometimes at night I still cry about them, I'm not ashamed to admit it. . . . I know nothing will hurt me during the tournament, because they're watching over me. . . ."

"Read the rest, Draco, I love this part," Pansy says.

"Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl who, like Harry, is one of the top students in the school."

"Want a hanky, Potter, in case you start crying in Transfiguration?" Theodore sneers at Potter while we're on our way to Potions.

"Since when have you been one of the top students in the school, Potter?" Blaise asks him. "Or is this a school you and Longbottom have set up together?" Okay, don't insult Neville. Emma will get mad, and, trust me, you don't want that to happen.

"Stunningly pretty? Her?" Pansy shrieks at Hermione. "What was she judging against ― a chipmunk?" The rest of her gang sniggers. I nod at Hermione as she walks past, and mouth what I said to her about Pansy the other day. She stifles a giggle.

The Sunday before the first task is a Hogsmeade weekend. We're not as excited to go as we normally are, we just want Tuesday to get here. Nevertheless, we go as a group.

"Three Broomsticks first this time," Grier says as soon as we get into the village.

"But Honeydu―" Noah begins.

"No, we went to Honeydukes first last time. Three Broomsticks," Grier says stubbornly.

"Fine," Noah mutters.

I spot a lot of people I know in the Three Broomsticks. It seems as though it's even more crowded because there are a bunch of people staying there that want to see the first task. The Irish Quidditch Team isn't coming until Monday, and we're playing our match Wednesday night. I see Fred, Anna, George, Jade, Lee, Ron, and Max sitting at a table. The girls wave at me when I pass, and I wave back. Hmm, Max said something about liking Ron last year. I wonder. . . if poor Lee is forever alone now. I also see Hermione sitting alone. Poor thing, it's probably been hard for her, with Potter and Weasley fighting.

The rest of the trip I'm worrying about other people instead of having fun. Well, as always, you could never not be happy about drinking Butterbeer. Grier's right, Butterbeer is always delicious.

When we get back from Hogsmeade, I go to the common room and get some sleep. I'm tired, and it's 11:00.

* * *

"Morning, sleeping beauty!" Grier yells into my face. "It's the day before the first task. It's also a Monday, and since everyone hates Mondays, I woke you up at 5 o'clock."

"What?!?" I panic. "Our first class starts at..."

"Eight! So, since you're wide awake now... wait, you're not wide awake. Which is why I brought a plan B," she picks up a bucket of... water, and chucks it at me. I become soaked.