reputation - (h.p.)

1.12 . all of their faith

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

THE INSTINCTUAL TUG PULLING AT Gaia could not be ignored, it turned out. She passed through crowds of excited students, many of whom were passing their gambling money to Fred and George, who happily collected. The rest were scattered among various tents selling candy, popcorn, buttons, flags, and more. Gaia felt slightly sick at the rampant commercialization of a task she and her friends had been fearing for weeks. She wasn't ready to find a seat in the stands yet - she had her mind set solely on finding Harry. 

       After minutes of searching, in which time a majority of the crowd had taken to the high-rise seats of the Quidditch stands and thus left her with a wider view of the surrounding pop-up vendors, she located one among the masses of vendors. Far and rather secluded was a pitched tent of cream curtains with a sign outside labeled 'Champions Only.'

       Smiling slightly, she bundled her coat tighter around her body and jogged off in the direction of the tent. As she approached it, panels of the draped fabric would move with the wind, and momentarily reveal slivers of the inside. She slowly walked the perimeter, afraid she might get in trouble for simply barging in. But to her luck, one gap in the lightly billowing curtains revealed the back of a long-haired brunette boy, the back of whom's shirt read 'Potter' in Gryffindor colors. 

       Gaia breathed a sigh of relief and closed the distance between her and the nearest panel. 

       "Psst!" she hissed, hoping to catch the boys attention. After a moment, she repeated, "Psst!"

       Finally, a hesitant, "Gaia?" was heard from inside the tent, just on the other side of the fabric. The girl couldn't contain the breath of relief that released as her shoulders lost their tension. 

       "Harry," she breathed joyfully. She could have sworn she heard the smile spread across his face. "How... How are you feeling?"

       He sighed. "Been better." Gaia could only nod, even as she was aware he couldn't see it. 

       "What do you need?" she asked gently. She couldn't shake the feeling that the whole conversation was like speaking to someone's who fate was already reserved, and dim. 

       "Wouldn't mind a shot of fire whiskey," he replied shakily. Gaia could only let out a breathy laugh before her body overrode her mind. She threw the curtain aside and flung her arms around Harry's neck. She didn't care that it was the merely the second time they had ever embraced, nor that there were three other older students in the tent. She needed to feel him, and he needed it too. He surprised himself with how quickly he got over the initial stun of her action, and instead melted into the embrace and wrapped his own arms around her waist, tight. He breathed in her familiar scent, the soft vanilla wafting over him. 

       As quickly as she had tackled him, a quick flash was heard and a stunning bright light shot at the two students. Pulling apart quickly, they both turned to find the dreadful reporter and her photographer. 

       "Young love," Rita Skeeter cooed, smiling ear to ear and clapping her hands quickly, the obnoxiously long feather of her Quick Quotes Quill bobbing up and down. She let go of the quill and notebook, which both floated up next to her, awaiting instruction. "How... stirring." The quill scratched the thought onto the page of the book, and Gaia felt the sickness in her stomach turn over at the thought of the article to come out of this interaction. As if feeding off of her anxiety, Rita said joyfully, "If everything goes well today, or even better, drastically, you two may make the front page!" She laid her eyes on the girl, "Your name, miss?"