Awakening || Harry & Hermione

Chapter 1.2

He looked at Hermione who had also stood up and was staring at him anxiously. "Too bad, I only realized recently: I only have one of those."

Without waiting for a response, he gathered his bag and made to stride out of the Great Hall. On his way past the high table, he caught sight of the professors murmuring amongst themselves and sending disapproving looks his way. McGonagall's face was stern and her mouth set in a straight line, Sprout stared down at her plate as if unsure of what to do, Snape's mouth curled up in a sneer, and the other professors either averted their eyes or stayed silent when he looked at them.

What was he expecting? That they would jump out in his defense? Make a quick little announcement: "Harry didn't put his name in the Goblet, children! Stop harassing him now!" and what, actually, help him? Why in the world would they do that when they could sit back and watch him face ridicule and pressure from every side? Second year and the parselmouth debacle had been much the same after all.

And then, at the centre of them all, was the headmaster. Dumbledore who had admitted that he suspected someone had a reason for putting his name in, that someone might very well be using the tournament as a chance to attack him. Dumbledore who—as the most powerful wizard alive—could probably find a loophole in the wizarding laws and 'binding' magical contract easily or at least find a way where he could participate without the fear of death hanging over him at every step. Dumbledore who had decided to let events play out without interference and was now looking at him with somber eyes.

Harry couldn't bring himself to say anything; the disappointment felt like a bitter medicine shoved down his throat, threatening to choke him. He forced himself to look into the headmaster's eyes and thought, I don't need your pity.

Not, he thought as he finally exited the hall, when every authority figure in his life was ready to stand by and do nothing.

It felt good to let out his grievances and to erase any expectations of acceptance. After all, if there were no expectations, there would be no disappointment—he was free. Once he reached outside and his anger had simmered down, however, he began berating himself again from steering so off course from his original intention. How had he gone from wanting to thank Hermione to ranting at the entire Hogwarts population?

"Harry!" He heard footsteps behind him and turned around to find an indignant Hermione, panting and out of breath.

"You could have waited for me!" She scolded.

"Sorry," Harry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I just couldn't stand to be there a second longer. "

"Mhm." Hermione hummed noncommittally.

They continued to walk in companionable silence and again Harry was struck with how despite her naturally curious tendencies, Hermione always seemed to know when to draw the line with him and give him the quiet comfort he needed.

He didn't know how much time had passed before she finally spoke up. "Feel better now? We should see about squeezing some time in before our first class and head to the library."

He laughed. "Aren't you going to ask me what happened back there?"

"Is there really a need to, Harry? You're a fourteen-year-old minor being forced to participate in a potentially fatal competition against your will and not only do none of the authorities try fix this idiocy, the general population decides to brand you as an attention seeking prat instead. You're only human. To be honest, I would have broken down long before you."

Harry scoffed. "Hermione, you've come a long way from the girl who ran to the bathroom because of Ron's taunts. I think you're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

"Well," she sniffed. "I should hope so! All these years learning spells and gaining confidence so I could wipe the floor with anybody, least of all Ronald Weasley, had better not have been spent in vain."

Hermione didn't bring up the elephant in the room: Ron wasn't exactly on talking terms with either of them now and Harry had no idea when he would come around to see the truth. In fact, Harry was coming to doubt if he even wanted him to.

"Speaking of Ron," Harry stopped and spoke seriously. "I wasn't just being overdramatic back there. I don't think I can really consider anyone in that hall a real friend."

"Oh, Harry, no, don't say that—"

He held up a hand. "This isn't just me being bitter and taking it out on others unreasonably. You know, I haven't had the best of childhoods and I didn't exactly have a lot of friends at school. I could see early on who cared or was just pretending to care. Maybe I was so desperate for a new start at Hogwarts that I ignored the same signs here." The words just seemed to tumble out of his mouth. Why am I telling her this? He asked himself. Why ever should you not? A voice in his head responded.

She'll think I'm pathetic. Everyone would.

The voice denied him: Not Hermione. Never her.

Harry decided to trust it.

"I was willing to ignore it, I was willing to hold on to the hope that I'd do so well in the first task that everyone would welcome me back with open arms. But then I realized something last night: I don't need them by my side to be happy. Why should I care so much about people who care so little for me? I just need my real friends by my side."

He had barely begun his last sentence ("I just need you.") when he was confronted with an armful of Hermione and his mouth was muffled by her bushy hair. "Mhmph! Hermione!"

She didn't let go of him and squeezed him even tighter. "Be quiet! I am hugging my best friend in the world, and there is nothing you can do about it, Harry James Potter!"

Well, who was he to argue with that? For the second time in less than a day, Harry allowed himself to relax and surround himself with Hermione's warmth. He allowed himself to pretend everything was fine and he was safe.

It wasn't until they had reached the library and his eyelids were drooping from finishing another dry old tome about ancient loopholes in wizarding laws, that he realized he had forgotten to tell her "thank you."