Break Me || Harry Potter

Chapter 35- People sign Harry's Death Warrant

There was a huge chair sat in front of the fire. A young man stood in front of the chair, kneeling. Another man, this one just slightly older, kneeled next to the young man and seemed to be promising something. A hissing, rasping voice came from the chair, and a great snake slithered around the legs of the chair. From where I was standing I couldn't see the creature in the chair, but as I tried to move I found that my feet seemed both stuck in the ground and floating like mist between the boards.

"My lord, I can ensure the boy's entering. That much is for certain. The girl however-" the older man started, but the thing in the chair hissed.

"We need the girl. Grenville. You are in charge of her. She needs to come to the location when the boy does. It is essential," it hissed. The younger man lifted his head. He had messy brown hair and stunningly blue eyes. His face however, while it once must've been very handsome, was contorted due to the long scar running from left eye to right jawline. I squinted my eyes, trying to see through the scar and make out his face. He didn't seem any older than 17. But as his eyes lit up with the dark joy of his mission, his face turned from handsome to eerie and scary. I wanted to run, to hide and cower. But I as I told myself to be brave I kept my gaze pinned on the boy. I would not back down from a child.

"She must be delivered. Or it will all be for nothing."

I bolted upright gasping for air and sweat drenching my brow. The same dream. Again and again. Over and over. Nothing made sense.

As I relaxed and realized I still had at least two hours until sunlight, I decided that I was done sleeping for the night. Flashes of my reoccurring dream played through my head, mainly the young man's face twisting into evil joy.

I quietly toed down the stairs of the girls dormitory and crept into the common room. It was oddly silent, due to the absence of kids. I plopped down on the couch, curling myself into a small ball in front of the dying fire. I had suck my wand through my bun, so I now pulled it out and lit the flame once again.

After the flames were visibly large, I rested my head against the back of the couch and closed my eyes. My fingers reached up and traced the scar on my shoulder again, feeling the ruined flesh bend over my collarbone. I had no idea what it meant. I had no idea if I wanted to know what it meant.

After an hour or so of sitting in front of the fire contemplating life, the sun started to come up. Just peeking over the edge of the mountains in the distance, I watched it as it rose in the sky. I started to hear footsteps above me, so I padded upstairs and back into the dormitory, where Lavender and Pavarti and Anna had already started to get ready. Hermione was stirring, but not fully awake.

We didn't have classes today, it was Saturday, but tonight we were finding out which lucky, or perhaps unlucky, kid got to enter the death game of doom.

When Hermione finally got up (when we don't have class she's quite the sleeper) and we met up with Ron and Harry again, we were sitting in the Great Hall munching down breakfast. It was nothing special, but still the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang kids ate with us.

"So, what do you think of tonight?" I asked through my cereal. Harry sighed.

"I don't really know. It's not really my kinda thing, so I'm not worrying about it." He said then took a bite of toast.

"If I were old enough I would do it, but its not like I would try to cheat to do it now." Ron piped up, earning a small pursing of lips from Hermione.

"I personally think that the magical cooperation of the tournament is great, but honestly, the tasks? They have always been dangerous, and many people have been killed." She said matter-of-factly. She had a book on the table in front of her, completely ignoring her food as she went back to reading.

"What about you?" Ron asked me. I shrugged.

"I don't know, it sounds fun. I would be game if I were old enough." Ron muttered in agreement and we went back to eating. After a few more quick conversations about homeworkca, Harry's crush on Cho Chang (which resulted with me in a laughing fit and Harry's face the color of a tomato), Quidditch (we were mainly ranting about how we couldn't play this year) and other small things. Finally, we left the Great Hall and walked around the school for a while, stopping in the library for Hermione and going down to the Quidditch pitch for me and the boys to fly around a bit before lunch. After lunch, we all worked on homework in the common room (hurray!) and then spent the next hour complaining about this and that. Finally, it was dinnertime.

The entire school, plus two more, was packed in the Great Hall. Dumbledore had dimmed the normally glowing floating candles, and the goblet stood in the center of the room. The teachers and heads of school all stood to the sides, and the students sat, stood or kneeled on the tables.

Before, we had a normal sized feast and speech about this and that for the tournament, but I tuned out. But now, every eye was on the goblet, which had just started to change color.

The flames coming from the goblet flared, going bright red and shooting a small, charred piece of paper into the air. Dumbledore ran forwards and caught the paper, then held it up and read the name.

"The champion from Beauxbatons is Miss," he paused dramatically, "Fleur Delacore!" The boys in the room cheered for the veela girl. I rolled my eyes. The room quieted again as the goblet's flames again changed color, this time to dark blue. They flared and shot out another piece of paper.

"The Durmstrang champion is," again, Dumbledore tried to build the suspense, "Viktor Krum!" This time the cheering in the hall rivaled the sound of a small jet taking off. I threw my hands over my ears. Viktor Krum may be a great quidditch player, but he just didn't seem quite the person to appreciate cheering. He pumped a fist once then walked down the hall that Fleur had just disappeared from. Finally, the goblet changed color again, this time the flames were more realistically orange. Another piece of paper was spit out, and the entire school sucked in a breath.

"The Hogwarts champion is," another pause, "CEDRIC DIGGORY!" This time, I was cheering along side every student in Hogwarts. Cedric was a really nice Hufflepuff 7th year, and he wasn't cocky or arrogant. Cedric smiled sheepishly as he stood up, and walked down the hall after the other two champions.

"And now we have our three champions. The best of luck to-" Dumbledore had started to say, but the goblet cut him off. The flames were still a golden orange color, but this time they flared and surged angrily. A fourth paper was shot out, and fell into Dumbledore's hand. The entire school was shocked into silence.

"Harry Potter."

Dumbledore said the name so quietly at first I thought I hadn't heard anything. But as he said it again louder I felt the ice encasing my heart. Harry couldn't have entered, he didn't want too. Harry immediately sat down in his seat, hiding behind Ron and me. Dumbledore bellowed his name again, and this time Ron grabbed his shirt and pulled him forward. Harry looked horrified. He slowly walked towards Dumbledore, trying to avoid the hundreds of disapproving stares coming from the other students. I tried to send Harry a sympathetic look, but he didn't look back. Some kids shouted out rude things, but they just echoed off the walls in the silence.

Suddenly, a few pieces flew together. "My lord, I can ensure the boy's entering. That much is for certain. The girl however-" the older man started, but the thing in the chair hissed. They, whoever they were, must've planned this to happen. Harry would never enter. I tried to stop the thought that came after but it lurked in the back of my mind. 

Would he?