Chapter 8
"It's not true-it's not true-it's not true-it's not-" Rebecca repeated the words over and over inside her head, as if it would have any bearing on reality. "Last night! Think about last night instead of-Just last night!"
Fred and Rebecca had lingered a while in the Owlery, spending the time as they pleased. Ignoring their homework, George joined them in he and Fred's room to make a batch for the snackboxes. They all spent ages upstairs, laughing, potion-brewing, planning and critiquing goods until the clocks struck ten and Rebecca knew it was time to start getting to her own room.
Fred kept working on what he was doing, bidding her a good night with a quick glance.
"Mate, what're you doing?" Lee asked, his jaw dropped. Granted, he didn't know that Fred had spent plenty of time with Rebecca already that evening, but Lee was appalled. "Chivalry is dying with every passing second!"
Fred looked to George for a translation, which George provided readily. "Get your lazy arse up and walk her to her stairs." Fred ran out of the room, leaving George to shake his head and look to Lee for support. "How are we even related, you think?"
Rebecca turned at the thud of Fred hitting the doorframe of their room, wondering why he was following her. "I do know the way out of this straight hall."
Fred looked behind him, finding the hall empty. "But can you kiss yourself good night?"
Rebecca rolled her eyes, standing on her toes to give him the briefest peck--all that either of them were willing to risk. "I'll see you in the morning, nutter."
Fred clutched at his chest, falling backwards a step. "Oh! The insult!"
"This isn't happening-isn't happening-isn't happening-" Rebecca's mantra failed as Dumbledore repeated himself again.
"Harry Potter?" The champions had been chosen: Viktor Krum from Durmstrang, Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons, Cedric for Hogwarts. That was supposed to be it. But, the Goblet of Fire had spit out another name, a fourth name. "Harry Potter, where are you?"
Hermione grabbed Harry's shoulder and lifted him to his feet, Dumbledore wouldn't wait any longer.
Rebecca stood too, looking to her friends for support. Hermione tried to convey calmness, seeing how Rebecca's hands had been trembling and Harry had gone whiter than a sheet. But Ron...Ron's face had melted into the ugliest, angriest scowl Rebecca had ever seen on him. She didn't dare look to Fred and George out of fear that they too would look at her like that. She didn't think she could stand it if they had.
Rebecca followed Harry like a shadow up the aisle to where the professors were staring at them silently like every student in the room. The weight was indescribable. The Great Hall remained silent as the champions, Harry, and the professors filed into the room behind the hall itself before they began to leave, the whispers beginning slowly and steadily into shouts of outrage.
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Igor Karkaroff held his hand up in front of Rebecca after Harry had stepped into the room, trying to keep her from going as well.
Rebecca looked up at the man, her lip quivering not in sadness, but hardly-contained rage. "I'm going with my brother." Her voice was soft, layered heavily in force. "I'd like to see you stop me."
The head of Durmstrang's eyes narrowed at her challenge and held his arm up steadily. Professor McGonagall's shoes tapped behind Rebecca, the professor rushing into the room to defend her students. "Igor!" McGonagall's voice forced him to lower the guard but he still looked to Dumbledore for support in keeping unnecessary students from being in the champions' debriefing.
Karkaroff found no support in Dumbledore, both he and Barty Crouch too busy trying to quell the storm rising in the outraged schools.
McGonagall put her hand on Rebecca's, steering her into the room Harry had already entered ahead. Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor stood apart from Harry, unsure what he was as all three schools already had their victors.
"Rebecca, I didn't do this!" Harry rushed to her side, desperation seeping into his words. "You know I wouldn't do this!"
"I know, Harry." Rebecca grabbed his wrist and held it tightly. "There's been a mistake, hasn't there professor?"
McGonagall nodded, there clearly had to have been one. Harry was only fourteen, for Merlin's sake. The age line!
"Quiet!" Dumbledore growled as he slammed the door to the Great Hall and stalked in. Madam Maxine and Karkaroff's budding-screaming match quieted slightly. Dumbledore locked eyes on Harry and began to move the fastest Rebecca had ever seen him.
Rebecca held her ground, keeping Dumbledore from grabbing Harry's robes as he had tried to and stepping backwards a few feet as Dumbledore pushed the two of them against the wall. "Harry, did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?" Ignoring Rebecca, Dumbledore nearly shouted the question at Harry despite their closeness.
"No, sir!" Harry answered immediately, answered truthfully.
"Did you ask one of the other students to do it for you?" Dumbledore still hadn't backed up.
"No, sir!"
"You're absolutely sure?" Dumbledore asked, taking a fraction of a step back and lowering his voice just as much.
"Yes, of course sir. I-"
"Harry wouldn't have asked anyone to!" Rebecca vehemently backed Harry up. "He said he wouldn't have entered even if we were old enough!"
Madam Maxine stepped forward and whacked a light hanging at her head's level out of her way, furiously spitting her words towards Harry and Rebecca. "But of course they are lying!"
"The hell they are!" Moody roared by the fire, turning and hobbling to stand between Dumbledore and the Potter twins. "The Goblet of Fire is an exceptionally powerful magical object. Only an exceptionally powerful Confundus Charm could have hoodwinked it." Barty Crouch glared at Harry and Rebecca while Dumbledore stepped away completely as Moody finished. "Far beyond the abilities of two fourth years."
"You seem to have given this a fair bit of thought, Mad-Eye." Karkaroff moved so that he was face-to-face with the ex-auror.
"It was once my job to think as dark wizards do, Karkaroff." Moody narrowed his eyes, a twist of a knowing smile flexing the scars on his face. "Perhaps you remember."
"This doesn't help, Alastor!" Dumbledore scolded, pushing between Karkaroff and Moody to go to Barty Crouch's side. "Leave this to you, Barty."
Barty looked into the distance, his eyes flitting between random points as he answered. "The rules are absolute. The Goblet of Fire constitutes a binding magical contract." He turned and looked at Dumbledore to nod before looking at Harry and Rebecca to stare down at them. "Mr Potter has no choice. He is, as of tonight, a Triwizard champion."
McGonagall scoffed from behind Harry and Rebecca, putting a hand on both of their shoulders as she became the one adult to defend them. "That's preposterous! There must be exceptions!"
Barty narrowed his eyes. "There are no exceptions! Absolute is absolute! He either competes or..." Barty shook his head. "He dies."
Harry and Rebecca found themselves swept in the middle of moving parts, the children all ushered into yet another side room while the adults returned to the first to discuss further.
Fleur was the only champion to study Harry and Rebecca, though she did so discreetly. She saw a similarity between the two of them that reminded of her and her sister. Viktor let his attention stay outside the window at the pouring down rain while Cedric fell into a chair in the corner and stared at his feet.
Inside the adults' room, McGonagall continued to argue for them. Dumbledore, tired of the circular conversation that brought no answers, snapped at her. "What do you suggest then, Minerva?"
"Put an end to it!" McGonagall threw her hands up, confused as to why no one else was as disturbed as she was. "Don't let Potter compete!"
"You heard Barty!" Dumbledore shouted. "The rules and the consequence are clear!"
"The devil with Barty and his rules!" Minerva was shouting now, too. "Since when do you accommodate the Ministry?"
"Headmaster," Snape's voice interrupted the spat. "I, too, find it difficult to believe this is coincidence." He was quiet a moment before giving a little shrug. "If we are to truly discover the meaning of these events, perhaps we should--for the time being--let them unfold."
Minerva looked at her colleague utterly shocked. "What? Do nothing? Harry is a boy! Not a piece of meat, not a sacrifice!" Minerva continued, shaking her head in disappointment at Severus, at Dumbledore, at them all. "Rebecca too, you saw her! You know that Harry didn't do this!"
Dumbledore looked up, ignoring Minerva. "I agree with Severus." Dumbledore's attention found Moody's across the room. "Alastor, keep an eye on Harry."
The adults moved from the room they had removed the champions from and returned to them, the groups being made between schools and judges. Barty Crouch spoke at Dumbledore's nod. "The rules are absolute."
Rebecca grit her teeth, Harry's eyes widened. They both understood what this meant. Viktor shook his head and stormed to Karkaroff's side to mutter something Bulgarian in his ear that Karkaroff shook his head to and forced Viktor to stand at his side silently.
Madam Maxine beckoned Fleur over to say something briefly in French while Professor Sprout motioned for Cedric to join her.
Harry was the fourth champion and he would compete in the Triwizard Tournament.
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The silence on Harry's ears through the walk back towards Gryffindor Tower grew and grew before he had to speak so that he knew someone, anyone, could still hear him. "You believe me, don't you?"
Rebecca stopped in her tracks and grabbed the front of his robes. "Are you telling the truth?" She studied his face, watching for anything that would indicate a lie.
"Yes!" Harry's voice was sharp, aching.
"Then I believe you." Rebecca forced the tears that wanted to pool in her eyes to stay back, to wait until Harry wouldn't see them. He needed her to be strong, not weak. "You're going to be fine, you hear me?" She gave him a shake, needing him to be strong too. "We are going to study. We are going to train. We are going to give you every skill you need to make it out of this alright. Damn the rules and damn this competition!"
Harry tried to pull strength from her words, wishing for one very-regretted moment that it had been her who had been drawn. She wouldn't feel like this, like she was certainly doomed. Harry knew that Rebecca would face the challenge ahead without feeling as Harry was. Harry would never let himself think this again, though. He wasn't sure if he would be able to see her in his spot.
Rebecca released him and smoothed out his rumpled front. "I'd take your spot if I could. You know I would, right?"
Harry wished she didn't seem to know what he was thinking so often. "I know."
The Fat Lady dabbed at her eyes as she opened for them, the entire castle having heard the news through the speed in which the portraits spread gossip. The common room was almost empty, only Fred and George visible from the door.
Rebecca and Harry walked to them quickly, finding Hermione to be sitting on the couch. Ron was nowhere to be seen.
Harry closed his eyes in the crook of Hermione's neck as she pulled him into a hug, Fred and George doing the same for Rebecca. Harry began to struggle through a rundown of everything that had happened in the discussion after the choosing, with the professors, Barty, and the other schools' heads.
Fred pulled Rebecca to the side, putting his back to the others and looking at her carefully while laying his hands on her shoulders. "Rebecca?" He used her name. No pet names, no nicknames, but her name.
She took a moment to focus before looking up at him, trying to cancel out the tears she couldn't quite force all the way down with a smile that was the fakest he had ever seen. "I'm fine, Fred. We need to be thinking about Harry right n-"
"Bollocks to Harry." Fred interrupted, sliding his hands up to her cheeks and using his thumbs to wipe away her tears without commenting on them--as if he couldn't see them. "George and I are going to be there for you both, every step of the way. Know this."
Rebecca felt the words sooth her all the way to her core and tried to compose herself to join the others. Fred shook his head as she failed miserably and pulled her into his chest, keeping his body turned as he had been so that the others couldn't see how her shoulders shook with the silent sobs she let out. "This is different," She whispered, Fred rubbing a circle into her back and holding her closer. "This feels different than any other year, Fred. I have a bad, bad feeling about this."
Fred held her tighter. "Well, bollocks to that too then. You've got two of the smartest people in the world who are going to help in any way that we can, and you'll have George too."
The surprise of his jest at George pulled a single laugh out of her before she plunged her head back into his chest to take slow breaths and prepare herself to stand on her own again. Wiping her cheeks with her sleeves, Harry spoke from between Hermione and George.
"What about George?"
"Nothing." Rebecca answered, looking up to Fred and trying to find words for what she was feeling and unable to. "Nothing at all, Harry."
Hermione stood and said that they all needed rest, giving Harry another tight hug before moving to the girls' stairs and waiting for Rebecca to say her good nights. She went down the line, giving Fred and George hugs in turn before stopping in front of Harry. "Get some sleep, you hear me?"
Harry looked away from her, lowering his voice. "Ron's pissed, isn't he?"
Rebecca glanced at Fred, knowing the answer. "Bollocks to Ron if he is."
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"Bollocks to Ron." Harry thought to himself as he got out of the shower. Not even the scalding temperature he had turned the water too had been able to scrub off the dirty looks Ron had given him as he entered their dormitory.
"How'd you do it?" Ron pounced as Harry sat on his bed in his pajamas. "Doesn't matter anyway. Might have let your best friend know, though."
"Do what?" Harry knew exactly what Ron was talking about but didn't want to have to think about this, let alone talk about it. Delaying the inevitable even a few seconds was good enough for Harry.
"You know bloody well what." Ron snapped, roughly getting his bed ready to sleep in.
"I didn't ask for this to happen, Ron." Harry was so filled with dread for the next day, so woefully unprepared to go against seventeen year olds with so much more magical knowledge than he had, so weighed down with the fact that he was the least liked Hogwarts student in the castle that second and he was bringing Rebecca with him. "You're being stupid."
Ron scoffed, pulling his covers up. "That's me. Harry Potter's stupid friend."
Harry looked to Neville and Seamus, not expecting any support or kindness but needing to know for sure that they weren't with him. Harry stood up, staring them all down. "I didn't put my name in that cup. I don't want eternal glory, I just want to be..." Harry calmed his tone from the accusatory, defensive it had been to resigned and directed at Ron. "I don't know what happened tonight, and I don't know why. It just did. I've got Rebecca crying and Hermione looking at me like I'm going to drop dead any second, I don't need this shite from you too!"
Ron rolled his eyes and turned on his side so his back was to Harry, his heart letting out a pang that ached in his chest at the thought of Rebecca crying. It wasn't enough though, love didn't outweigh the jealousy coursing through his veins and heating his blood. "Piss off." Ron said at last.
Harry looked at the back of his best friend in the silence that followed the words before taking his glasses off and closing the curtains to his bed. Harry looked to the roof of his bed, the light of their room turned off by Seamus or Neville seconds later.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Harry felt wholly and completely alone.
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While Harry woke up in silence--Neville, Seamus, and Dean staying in bed longer than usual to avoid suffocating in the tension between Ron and Harry, Rebecca woke up to the sound of tapping at the window next to her bed.
Hedwig, with a letter tied to her leg, hopped in happily accepting Rebecca's praise and compliments on her speed along with the greatest of head scratches. Eager to get to food and rest in the Owlery, Hedwig nipped at Rebecca's fingers in goodbye and left the letter behind, the letter which Rebecca opened tore into while Hermione went into the bathroom.
Rebecca,
I see the dilemma you've outlined, though I want to make sure I have it clear. You liked kissing Fred and are open to the idea of calling it more but don't want others to know until you're both sure? If that's the case, brave!
You two have known each other for years and have a lot of the same friends, a home shared, and as you've mentioned, a budding business venture. It's wise beyond your years to test the water before going deeper, a sure sign of your mother's level-head.
Though, on behalf of your mother and father, I must ask that you behave in a responsible manner when it comes to specific...actions...young, enamoured witches and wizards partake in. Has Molly spoken with you? Is this something I need to discuss with you? Harry?
On another note, of course you have crossed no line or boundary. In fact, it fills me with great joy to know that you trust me enough for advice. (Though, I'll have you know that Moony laughed like I had been joking when I'd told him that you'd wanted advice. Don't fret, the details as to what the advice pertained to were kept private.)
Rebecca paused her reading of the exceptionally long letter to note that Sirius was with Professor Lupin. She knew he wasn't their professor any longer, but it seemed wrong to call him Mr Lupin and they weren't familiar enough to get away with solely first names.
This tournament does sound like a hassle. I can only imagine how angry Fred and George were at hearing they were not of age to enter. This 'bad feeling' you mention worries me. Is it just a bad feeling or a premonition bad feeling? I would imagine it is impossible for you to tell until it is too late. Speaking of, how is the new draught working? I trust you to go to Madam Pomfrey if it isn't strong enough.
When you respond to this letter, please borrow an owl from school. Hedwig will make sure they know where to go, but her coat is too obvious, I fear.
Love,
Padfoot
P.S. Now that he knows who I have been writing too, Moony insists I tell you that he has been thinking of you and Harry both and that he sends kind regards. Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean.
Rebecca smiled at his added note, remembering fondly their year of Defence Against the Dark Arts with Lupin.
"Was it Sirius?" Hermione asked, noticing the letter in Rebecca's hand.
"Yeah, Harry and I will have to respond with last night now." Rebecca sighed. "I hope we're ready for today."
Hermione pursed her lips. "Speaking of...Ginny came up while you were still sleeping to warn us."
"Warn us?" Rebecca asked confused.
"Ron's..." Hermione struggled to find a way to reword what Ginny had told her. "Cross."
"Oh."
"He feels more under Harry's shadow right now, I'm sure it will pass quickly." Hermione rushed, trying to sooth Rebecca while also not outright lying.
Rebecca stuck the letter in her bag and changed into her uniform, struggling to say what needed to be said. "I can't leave Harry's side. You know that, right?"
"Yeah, absolutely." Hermione answered. "Of course."
Rebecca nodded, happy with the answer. "I just wanted to say it because if it comes down to it, I don't want Ron to be entirely alone. I just-I can't be there for him right now."
Hermione understood what they were saying and had to add her own terms. "And you'll make sure Harry knows I have no grief with him."
"Of course." Rebecca assured Hermione perfectly, squaring her shoulders at the door to the hall. The day seemed to be like a beast looming over them, daring them to try and fight it.
Harry was waiting at the bottom of the girls' stairs, Ron glowering across the common room. "I don't know if you want to sit with me." He whispered as they made their way to the portrait hole. The other Gryffindor students parted around the two of them like Harry had the plague. "It seems that I'm being shunned, Rebecca. Heavily."
Rebecca stopped in the hall, grabbing Harry's hand in the privacy they had before they were under the eyes of everyone else in the castle. "Harry, I wouldn't eat with anyone else."
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The tables on either side of their usual spot were entirely vacant, a blight in the crowded Great Hall that left Harry burning with shame. "We can grab something and go somewhere else." He muttered, wanting to keep Rebecca from so publicly associating with him.
"Don't be daft." Rebecca sat down and patted the bench next to her. "They saved our spots for us!" It wasn't really her spot, though. She would be forgoing her spot next to Fred for the next several weeks--though she didn't know it at that moment--to make sure Harry never ate alone.
A letter was delivered to Harry by a black owl identical to three others that were in the day's mail delivery. The other three owls hovered over Viktor, Fleur, and Cedric individually before the letters were dropped at the same time. Harry found a summons inside to the first trial. "November 24." He looked to his eggs solemnly. "That's it, nothing about what the event is."
Rebecca turned the letter over from where he had set it face down and nodded once, scooping another helping of breakfast onto his plate before serving herself. "Fine. We'll just practise everything."
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The end of that week passed miserably for Harry, the time between then all the way to two weeks after Halloween bringing no change.
November had come and no change had happened--Nearly every student from each of the three schools at the castle that year ignored Harry as they thought he had to have cheated his way in. Rebecca, who hadn't left Harry's side for even a second, was wrapped into the separation--The other students assumed she had to have had something to do with it.
"There goes the liar and the cheater. Perfect twins!" Draco called from a branch in one of the courtyards as Rebecca and Harry made their way to the dungeons for Potions. The Potter twins had grown used to the insults and the taunts, finding it easier to ignore Draco at first. "Learn that from the Weasley cow, Rebecca?"
Rebecca stopped in her tracks, her mind going silent and red as his words reached her ears. "What did you just say?" She asked, turning back to stare at him with a murderous look growing stronger in her eyes.
"Did you learn...to cheat and lie...from the Weasley...bitch..." Draco enunciated each word slowly as if she wouldn't understand him otherwise. He watched as the words that his father had instructed him in at Harry's admittance to the contest shattered Rebecca, a single glimpse of the pain he had caused her.
Then she rebuilt herself and put on a mask. Harry hardly saw the blur that was her arm as she reached for her wand to jinx Draco, he hardly caught it too. Rebecca shouted loudly, fighting against Harry's leading of her away ferociously. "Say it again, you bastard! Say it and I'll bloody kill you! Let me go, Harry! Let me-"
"He's not worth it Rebecca." Harry said quickly, quietly. "He's only said it to get a rise out of you!"
Draco took his wand out and raised it to hex them both, his reputation at stake if he had no reaction to her shouting.
"Never attack when your opponent has their back turned!" Moody shouted, appearing out of nowhere. He charmed Draco's wand out of his hand. "That's a rotten trick. You act like a trickster, you look like one!" The professor transfigured Draco into a ferret, the coat of the animal as white as the boy's hair.
Harry turned Rebecca towards the sight at the exit of the courtyard. He didn't want her to miss the show, but he also needed her to be too far from attacking. Moody was bouncing Draco up and down roughly before forcing him down Crabbe's trousers.
"Professor Moody!" Professor McGonagall cried out, following the source of laughter and screams only to find two Slytherin boys shrieking and a ferret climbing out of the leg of one of their slacks. "Is that a student?!" McGonagall did the counter-spell immediately. Draco turned back to himself and looked around wildly, unsure of what had happened.
"It was a punishment, professor!" Moody defended. "He tried to attack a classmate with a turned back!"
McGonagall crossed her arms sternly. "In this school, we do not use Transfiguration as punishment! We assign detentions or bring them to their head of house!"
Moody nodded once, clearly thinking over his options. "So be it. You, boy," Moody grabbed Draco's shoulder roughly. "Come with me."
"Wait till my father hears about this." Draco threatened.
"Lucius Malfoy?" Moody laughed before looking down at Draco clearly bored. "You tell him, I'm terrified." Moody sent Harry and Rebecca a wink as he led Draco out of their sight.
Harry looked over Rebecca and brushed a bit of dust off her shoulder. "Are you calmed down?"
Rebecca took her glasses off to clean them, answering slowly. "No."
Harry changed the subject, sensing a stalemate. "Ready for Potions?"
Rebecca put her glasses on and looked at Harry, questioning his judgement in asking something so silly. "Never."
The dungeons were as cold and damp as ever and, to really improve their day, Snape was in an especially foul mood at the delivery of Draco from Moody shortly before class began. Snape had had them working on general antidotes for a few weeks and, in the culmination of the topic, had hinted that some of them would be ingesting poison to see if their antidotes worked as they were supposed to.
Luckily for Harry, Colin Creevey appeared with a note just after the beginning of their lesson. Snape read the note and smirked, announcing to the class its contents. "Our favourite celebrity has been summoned for a photoshoot." Harry grabbed his bag and stood, Rebecca doing the same. Snape mimed confused and turned the note over before shaking his head. "Let me see...no, no there isn't. No mentioning of his small shadow today. Sit down, Miss Potter."
The class snickered as she eased back into her chair, breathing slowly and levelly.
"I'll see you at supper." Harry squeezed her shoulder. "Please, please don't get into any fights?" All he got was a singular nod that did not leave him overwhelmed with reassurance.
Rebecca felt more alone than every after Harry had left and the classwork had begun--she stuck doing the work of two as Harry had been her partner. Having to listen to Ron and Hermione work together just a table behind her was another facet of her loneliness.
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When the time had finally forced the bells to toll, signifying the end of Potions, Rebecca stood up and grabbed her bag in one, fluid movement. The other students cleared a path for her, both because the anger washed off of her in waves and because no one was supposed to be seen being nice to a Potter.
Not even the fresh air after a block in the dungeons could entirely lift her from the grey Snape's insults had forced her into, though it did lighten it slightly. Rebecca pulled her bag tight on her back, letting her head lower slightly as the insults and the stares of the students in the halls and courtyards resumed as they had every day since the Goblet of Fire had called Harry's name.
It had been a trying few weeks, a solitary few weeks. Solitary besides Fred and George. They made a point of walking with Harry and Rebecca whenever they could, the other students not daring bunch them into Harry and Rebecca's ostracization.
Fridays, however, were the only days that Fred and George's schedules kept them from being able to walk with Harry and Rebecca between a single class. Fred and George were at either the other ends of the castle or in double classes.
A repeating whirring sound pulled Rebecca from her thoughts, the noise occurring every few seconds over her shoulder. She stopped and looked back, pulling her backpack off her shoulder to find the noise. Someone had pinned one of the buttons the Hufflepuff students had been circulating on her bag--The buttons that alternated between saying "Cedric, the one true champion" and "POTTER STINKS."
Rebecca looked up towards the ceiling, her patience being pushed to the absolute limit before the sight of Cedric and other Hufflepuffs in an adjacent courtyard caught her attention. She walked over to them, holding the pin up with a scowl. "This you, Cedric?"
Cedric saw the button and was ashamed of his housemates. He hopped up and led her a few steps away from them, turning his back to his friends and lowering his voice. "Rebecca, I swear I had nothing to do with those. I've asked them to get rid of them, to stop, but they won't." He shrugged and offered her the same smile he did to every girl he upset. It normally excused whatever he had done wrong, so he turned to walk back to his friends.
"That's it?" Rebecca asked, marching back in front of him. "'Oh, well?'"
"Careful, Ced!" One of the boys called. "She's feral!" The other Hufflepuff students laughed.
Cedric shook his head and shrugged again. "I don't know what else you expect me to do. I certainly can't do anything right now, I've got to go." He spoke quietly, wanting her to leave.
Rebecca turned to the rest of the Hufflepuffs and ignored Cedric entirely. "For a house based on loyalty and friendship, you lot sure don't have much of either." She grabbed the pin and braced herself, expecting what she was about to do to hurt like hell. "Ignitium incantatum."
The button ignited and she held it by the edge until it had melted into an unrecognizable clump of plastic and cruelty which she let drop to the floor to continue burning. Her business done, Rebecca turned and left.
The Hufflepuffs were stunned into silence, the only one to speak muttering something about how nutty Gryffindors were after they were sure she wouldn't be able to hear them.
Rebecca still had Herbology left for the day, but decided that she would be detouring her arrival to go by the Hospital Wing. She needed time to be alone--actually alone, not just the feeling of it that the students had imposed on she and Harry--and something for her fingers that smarted horribly.
But, even though they hurt, she couldn't help the smallest smile when she thought about the looks the Hufflepuffs had given her as it melted away. Madam Pomfrey, however, did not smile.
"You held on...to the fire..." The healer repeated slowly after Rebecca had explained what had happened. "Young lady, that is officially the dumbest reason anyone has ever ended up in here and I been here for many, many years and healed many, many dumb injuries." Poppy shook her head and tapped the edge of her wand on the tip of each finger, casting the anti-burn spell.
"Here, you're not done yet." Madam Pomfrey held a jar out to her. "A salve for when it starts to ache after the spell has worn off. I shouldn't be giving you that, I should let the pain serve as a lesson." Rebecca nodded, accepting the admonishment and thanking Madam Pomfrey for the salve. "Where are you headed to class? I'll give you a note for the professor so they know you were here."
Rebecca winced, looking up to Madam Pomfrey pleadingly. "I was wondering..." Madam Pomfrey put her hands on her hips, knowing what was coming. "Maybe you could just say I stayed here?"
Madam Pomfrey shook her head and Rebecca winced pitifully at the no. "I do not help skiving students." Madam Pomfrey walked to her desk to get some parchment.
Rebecca hopped off the table she'd sat on and followed Madam Pomfrey. "Oh Madam Pomfrey, please? I'm begging you. I just need an hour to get my head on straight--For Harry. The first competition is in two weeks and we've got no clue what it is or how he needs to be prepared and-and he needs me." Rebecca's voice trailed away as she tried to work the weight she had growing on her shoulders with every passing day, every passing hour it felt.
Madam Pomfrey studied the girl in front of her for a moment before setting the parchment down and sighing. "If I do not see you at supper, I will assign detention myself. I'll let whomever's class your missing know that I'm keeping you here." Madam Pomfrey was quiet a moment before laying a hand on Rebecca's shoulder. "Stress can lead to avoiding meals, which causes more problems than it solves." Madam Pomfrey watched as Rebecca left, sending nothing but good thoughts with her.
Rebecca jammed the salve into the side of her bag and tried to think about where she could go for the time she had. She couldn't go to her favourite place to think down by the lake because it would be too close to Hagrid's classes. She considered the library, but the thought that if she was going to be reading she might as well have gone to class. Rebecca ended up wandering about the corridors, ducking behind corners whenever she saw other students, ghosts, or even the occasional professor as needed.
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While Rebecca was still being berated for being a pseudo-celebrity by Snape, Harry was in the Great Hall having his wand inspected by Ollivander for any tampering enchantments as Cedric, Viktor, and Fleur's already had. Announcing that the final champion's wand was as clear as the other three, a speaker for the Prophet announced that they would be having individual interviews.
"Who feels up to sharing?" The woman asked, introducing herself as Rita Skeeter. "Shall we start with the youngest? Lovely." She dragged Harry to the closet she had set up earlier and slammed it shut behind him, not allowing the others even the chance to claim going first.
"Isn't this cozy?" Rita stated as she and Harry took their spots on the stools opposite one another, their knees inches away from the others.
"It's a broom cupboard." Harry stated.
"You should feel right at home then." Rita remarked, unimpressed with Harry's tone. As Harry settled on his stool, a leg collapsed and he ended up sprawled on the floor. Rita, ignoring this entirely, jumped into her questioning. "You don't mind if I use my quick-quotes-quill? Excellent!" Again, Rita gave no space for an answer. "Here you sit, twin nowhere in sight? How does she feel about all this? A mere boy of twelve...alone?"
"Actually," Harry began as he tried to pick where to start with everything wrong with the interview so far. "Rebecca's been my strength. My mentor, really. I haven't been alone since this has started because of her and there aren't words to say how much that has helped." Harry hoped that these words, if any, made it into the article. It would be only the beginning of Harry's payment of the debts he felt that he was incurring with Rebecca, but he hoped it would prove to her how necessary she was to him. "And I'm fourteen."
Rita nodded to the quill floating beside her head, telling it to keep writing. "So she's not jealous?"
"Of course not!" Harry answered sharply.
"Defensive." Rita muttered to the quill before going onto the next question. "What about your competitors? They're not only vastly more emotionally mature than you are, they're more experienced. They can cast spells that you wouldn't attempt in your dizziest daydreams."
Harry fumbled, caught off-guard. "I-Well, I haven't really thought about that." Harry's attention stayed on the quill as it wrote on and on, far more than his meager response to the question.
"Just ignore the quill." Rita crossed her legs in front of her, leaning forward. "You're no ordinary boy of twelve, are you?"
"Fourteen." Harry corrected again.
"Do you think it was the trauma of your past that made you so keen to enter such a dangerous tournament?"
Harry stared at the woman a moment before answering. "I didn't enter the tournament." His voice was held so level, it impressed him. He felt his heartbeat pounding in his ears growing louder with every passing question.
"Of course you didn't." She patted his knee patronizingly before winking as if they were sharing a secret. "Everyone loves a rebel, Harry-Scratch that." Rita ordered the quill, which did as she said instantly. "Speaking of your parents, were they alive, how do you think they'd feel? Proud? Or concerned that your attitude shows, at best, a pathological need for attention and at worst, a psychotic death wish?"
Harry craned his neck to read what the quill had written and ignored every word of what Rita had just said. "Hey! My eyes aren't 'glistening with the ghosts of my past!'" Rita stared at him as he stood and grabbed the notebook out of the air roughly, tearing the written on pages out roughly. "This interview is over." He shoved the pages into his pocket roughly before storming out of the closet.
Viktor smirked as he was beckoned in next, Fleur watching as Harry left the room as quickly as he could. Cedric couldn't look at Harry at all, not without thinking of what Rebecca had said to him that very hour.
Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower before the other students as classes were still going. He hoped that the owl that he and Rebecca had been using to communicate with Sirius would be back, Harry feeling that he needed the words of encouragement more so than ever. One of the first things to go his way in what felt like ages, the bird was waiting for him on the sill of the window near his bed.
"Hop in, mate." Harry dug out some seeds, holding them out for the owl. "Fly well?"
Harry undeid the letter from the owl and waited for him to finish the snack before excusing the little bird to go back to the Owlery, calling a thank you that he had forgotten after it. Harry opened the envelope quickly, the thought of waiting for Rebecca not even occurring to him.
Harry and Rebecca,
These are growing to be hard times. The Ministry is fighting my redemption every step of the way--It's too risky for us to keep sending owls. I am deeply sorry for this.
Both of you go to the common room at 1:00 am this Saturday, November 22. We'll talk then.
Stay strong,
Padfoot
Harry flipped the letter over, disappointed to find that there wasn't the usual inclusion of Professor Lupin's commentary. Harry checked the time and found there was hardly enough time to warrant going to Herbology for the end of the lesson and laid on his bed for a while, trying to sort through the dark thoughts the interview fiasco had dredged up.
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Rebecca hadn't returned to the common room once classes had finished, continuing on her travels. Every time she heard noises that indicated another living being, she turned the opposite direction to wallow longer.
"Rebecca?" A voice called from the end of the hall she had just walked the length of, a voice that made her stop and turn around. "Rebecca, what are you doing all the way up here?" Fred walked to her with the Marauder's Map in his hand, confusion and worry on his face.
Rebecca met him in the middle, in front of the large tapestry of a man teaching trolls to ballet. "I don't know, I guess. Is George with you?" She looked behind Fred, not seeing him.
"No." Fred opened his arms and found that Rebecca buried herself into his chest instantly. The first time they had been alone together in weeks and relief coursed through them both. Fred noticed the jar in her bag, eying it carefully. "What's happened here?"
Rebecca sighed. "It's rather embarrassing."
Fred looked to the side and noticed a door opening, a door that he hadn't seen there before. "Shall we? I'd love to hear about it."
Rebecca assumed that she hadn't noticed the door too and shrugged, stepping in after Fred and finding the perfect room. It looked like a common room, almost. There was a warm fire to fight away the pre-winter chill around the castle and a couch nearby. There was a table with tea cups and a steaming kettle, blankets in a pile beside. The room was exactly what she needed at the moment: A comfortable, private place to be with Fred.
"What is this?" Rebecca asked, finding nothing like this to be usual.
"Merlin's beard..." Fred gasped, looking around carefully. "This room isn't on the map because it's never the same! We've found the Room of Requirement--It changes based on-"
"What you require." Rebecca finished, making their teas as they liked them and setting them on the table near the couch before kicking her shoes off and lying next to Fred. "I would say that I needed this, yes."
"I know." Fred laid his head on the top of hers. "I'm sorry."
"You didn't do anything." Rebecca listened to Fred's heartbeat as he clarified.
"I know I didn't." Fred smiled at her. "I'm sorry to bring back up the salve when I'm sure you've thought I forgot about it."
Rebecca sighed. "That I did." She told him about the courtyard, how angry it had made her to see the Hufflepuff students around Cedric laughing about the buttons. "So I held one of the damn things and burnt it in front of them."
"That'll require a salve alright." Fred remarked, holding her a little closer. "Did it at least make you feel better?"
Rebecca hadn't been asked that in so long, she wasn't prepared for the pain that echoed out inside of her. No, she didn't feel better. She hadn't felt better in weeks, hadn't felt better at all until she was able to get this time with Fred.
"Don't cry, RJ." Fred whispered, pulling her head back against his chest and busying his fingers by playing with her hair until she stilled having cried her fill. "Maybe we need to see if you can go home early. This is all so much and-"
"I'm not going anywhere." Rebecca said quietly. "I can't." She looked up and kissed him, wondering if he could feel the tears falling down her cheeks again. "I just need to be here--with you--a little longer."
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