ELIXIR: A Harry Potter Fan Fiction

Twelve. The First Task.

 As the week went by, more and more people approached Sean in classes, corridors, the great hall, and the common room to wish him good luck or else to ask what the task was. No one seemed to believe that he did not know. Everyone kept saying they were behind him, supporting him, but he couldn't help thinking a little sardonically that their support would do him a fat lot of good when he was facing whatever he was facing and they were all safe in the stands.

He began seeking out more and more secluded places in the castle, not keen on talking to anyone. He spent a few minutes in the library when he needed to replenish the supply of books he was still perusing, but never remained there. He found empty classrooms instead where he locked the door and did not emerge until it was nearly curfew.

Sometimes he let Evelyn accompany him because, although he did not believe the encouraging words she spoke, they calmed him somehow. Perhaps it was just the sound of her voice, comfortable and familiar, reminding him that even if, after Saturday night, he became the laughing stock of the entire school, there would still be Evelyn to come back to. Evelyn who had not wanted him to enter this stupid tournament at all, but who was doing her best to help him through it all the same. Evelyn who would not care what happened in the task, who would not care if he won the tournament or lost miserably, so long as Sean was still her friend.

But even Evelyn could not completely set him at ease. On the days when they did not share their final lesson, he escaped by himself, content to spend the evening alone, closeted up somewhere with his books and his thoughts. Alone, he thought, no one could see his fear.

On Friday afternoon, Marlowe left him as they walked back from Care of Magical Creatures to go and prepare for quidditch practice and Sean hurried back into the castle to find a new place to hide from everyone. Now, more than ever, he could not bear to sit there with Evelyn telling him everything would be alright. In just over twenty four hour's time, he would have to face whatever was coming and did not want to be told he was ready when he knew very well that he was not.

He found a little used classroom near the astronomy tower and set to work reviewing everything he had thought might be useful and practicing the few spells he had thought could come in handy. Sean stayed there all afternoon and late into the evening, never looking up long enough to notice the darkening skies out the tower window.

Only when his stomach began to growl so loudly he could no longer ignore it did he realize that dinner had ended two hours previously. It was nearly curfew. He would have to go back and hope that everyone had decided to turn in early.

He began to pack up his things, in no rush to get back to Ravenclaw tower. He was head boy after all. He could simply say he was patrolling if anyone asked. And with the task tomorrow tomorrow, he doubted any of the professors would be too upset with him.

Sean dragged his feet, hoping to slow the journey as much as possible. All the way back, the contents of his notes swam through his brain. He could only hope that he would recognize the traces of magic as easily as he could recite what they ought to be. He listed them to himself, head bowed and hands shoved into his pockets.

Warmth or cold, he thought. Changes in temperature. Movement, a rustling maybe, like a breeze. Light. Glimmers. Something in the air. All magic left traces.

Finally, he arrived outside the door of the common room, entering quietly in the hopes that he could slip upstairs, pull the hangings shut around his bed and continue reading by wandlight. But then he saw Evelyn, and though she was not facing the door and had not looked up when he entered, though he had no obligation to let her know he was there, he found himself approaching her anyway.

He sat down next to her on the old, blue sofa, sinking deep into the cushions. He felt heavier than usual, more aware of his own weight than ever. His existence, he realized for the first time in his life, was fragile, and worse, not guaranteed to persist.