An Unbreakable Vow ~ Harry Potter

xv - in which a fourth champion is chosen

"Harry Potter."

Valerie froze, her heart sinking. Harry had been chosen as the fourth champion. How was that possible? Her breaths came faster. She barely felt anything. Harry tried to catch her eye, but she just sat there helplessly.

Hermione waved Harry on. "Go — they're watching, Harry. You have to go," she urged.

Harry gave one final glance to his friends before walking down the aisle, aware of all the eyes on him. He adjusted his robes and disappeared into the room holding the other champions, and he took with him the hope that this was all a terrible dream in Valerie's head.

Ron was banging his fist on the table, his face contorted in rage. "He didn't tell us! He didn't tell me! He ought to have —"

"I don't think I want any dinner tonight," Valerie abruptly cut in, pushing her chair out. She wiped her eyes in a last effort to make her tears less noticeable and gave a last half-hearted wave to Hermione before storming out of the dining hall.

She couldn't believe that Harry had put his name in. She never imagined any possibility of this happening.

She loosened her scarf, suddenly feeling like it was too tight. She felt like she was being suffocated. She heard footsteps behind her, and turned around to see Hermione, her hands on her knees, leaning against the wall.

"Y — you — couldn't have — gone any slower —?" she puffed out, struggling for breath. "What Harry did was a dumb move, but you don't have to excommunicate yourself out of the whole friend group. Maybe he didn't even do it at all. You haven't listened to his explanation yet."

"I don't need to listen," Valerie argued. "He made his choice."

"Just listen to me," a new voice called out. Valerie heard sharp footsteps on the walkway, and made a move as if to leave, anything but to face him.

He grabbed her arm and twisted her around to face him in the eyes. "Do you really think that I would try to order my own death with this stupid goblet?"

Valerie wasn't sure who he was trying to convince, her or himself, but she found herself nodding. "I didn't think — but Ron —"

"Don't worry about Ron!" Harry yelled. "I'm not worrying about him right now! Right now all that matters is this! Someone put my name in the goblet, and nobody believes that I didn't put it in!"

His voice was shaking. Valerie could see that he was confused. And angry.

"Who would try to kill you by putting you in the tournament?"

"Oh, I don't know, Voldemort?" Harry said sarcastically, getting frustrated.

"Did you put your name in the goblet?"

"I said no," Harry said, his hands shaking. "Why won't you believe me?"

"I'm really sorry. I have to get back, anyway," Valerie said, wiping her eyes and heading to the dorms.

Ron blatantly ignored Valerie as she opened the door to the dorms. She headed towards her shared room with Ginny and Hermione, slamming the door behind her. She curled up into a ball and crumpled to the floor, wrapping her arms around her legs.

Valerie heard the faint creak of the door opening, then a clear voice.

"I'm sorry," Ron said. "Harry's a shithead."

Valerie nodded and buried her face back in her knees, willing everything to go away. "But Ron — I don't know anymore! I don't know anything!" she said, her words muffled by her sweater. "What if he didn't —"

"I don't want to hear you talking like Hermione, and I won't listen to reason," Ron scowled, sitting down on the floor next to Valerie, scooting his back against the wall. "He gets everything. Fame, money — he can even cast a full patronus, which of course no other student can do! Don't even get me started on this! I'm just the dumb friend, just the one who makes dumb jokes and stands aside while Harry and Hermione — and you — do everything. The one that stuffs food in their face while everybody else is useful. The one that's scared of everything, and the annoying one, and —"

"SHUT UP!" Valerie screeched, clamping a hand over Ron's mouth. "I need you to shut up and listen to me! Harry might die, and then would you be happy? Then you'd be the friend to pity. Then you'd be the centre of attention real quick."

Ron lifted her hand off his mouth, and then went silent. "I wouldn't like that. But he won't die; he'll probably win. He's Harry Potter."

"You're not going to forgive him, will you?"

"When he tells me how he got his name in."

Valerie groaned. "That'll be a long time coming."