Awakening || Harry & Hermione

Chapter 2.1

By the time Harry learned that the first task was dragons, he and Hermione had already progressed quite nicely through the lists and he was gaining growing confidence that he could maybe actually make it through the Tournament alive and with all his limbs intact. It was surprising at first to realize how much he liked learning magic. Hadn't that always been the case? Hadn't he always been fascinated by what his uncle termed 'his freakiness,' wondering what made him so different even at a young age? Hadn't he secretly enjoyed studying in the muggle schools, priding himself on getting better marks than Dudley even when he knew he would suffer for it? Hadn't he stayed up all night before his first trip to Hogwarts, ravenously swallowing any information he could? What had changed?

Perhaps the harshly taught lessons from childhood had been ingrained into his mind more deeply than he had thought. (Hide. Don't attract any more attention than necessary. There's no need to try your best if you just get hurt.)

Perhaps upon coming to Hogwarts, finding a safe home, and settling into an easy companionship with Ron...he had subconsciously not wanted to risk anything or try any harder than he had to. Normal was good.

Normal was safe.

As if! Harry cursed his past self. He was already the bloody Boy-Who-Lived, there was never a chance for him to be normal. Maybe if he had focused more on studying and arming himself up after first year with Quirrell, or the basilisk, or even after learning a convict was after him—granted it was Sirius, but still!—he wouldn't be so numb and terrified at the prospect of facing dragons. Dragons. Studying with Hermione had made him realize just how much he didn't know; just how vulnerable he really was in the grand scheme of things. No matter how much he crammed and practiced, a month wouldn't put him on par with a seventh year, and even they would find it difficult to survive against a dragon.

"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid." Harry slumped against the sofa and put his face in his hands.

"Who is?" At some point, Hermione had entered the common room and sat next to him.

He peered at her through his fingers and mumbled. "Me, that's who."

"What?" Hermione glared at him. "Haven't we gone over this before? You're catching on to all of these spells faster than even I am!"

"It's not going to be enough!" He exclaimed and then lowered his voice. "The first task...the first task is dragons."

He watched as the teasing expression vanished and her face turned a ghostly white; he had never seen her look so terrified. Wordlessly, she grabbed his arm and dragged him out the common room until they were outside the castle and in a secluded spot.

"Tell me everything."

And so he did. Slowly, the colour returned to her face and by the time he had finished, there was a look of steely determination in her eyes.

"Harry, listen to me." She took his hand and squeezed it tightly. "You are going to get through this. We will make sure of that."

He opened his mouth to protest, but the slight trembling of her hand on his changed his mind, and he just sighed instead. She was just as scared as he was, but she was trying her best to hide it for his sake.

"What am I going to do?"

"We'll figure it out." She raised her chin and said firmly. "Remember that you are the boy who faced Voldemort, a basilisk, a horde of dementors—and come out the winner each time. I believe in you, Harry, even if you don't. You can do this. You will survive. I promise you that."

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Later, when Harry found himself dodging walls of flame on his broom, it was Hermione's words that echoed through his mind and kept him from becoming paralyzed with fear.

I promise you.

Harry swerved and narrowly missed the spiky tail headed towards his head.

I believe in you, Harry.

Sweat trickled down his brow and he felt so tired, so exhausted, as if he could slip off his broom any moment. But—he gripped his broom tighter—he couldn't fail now, not when he had to prove that her belief in him was right.

You can do this. You will survive.

He raced back to the arena, his sight on the golden egg. He could. He would.

Hermione believed he could win this; now, he only had to believe in himself.

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After succeeding in the first task, Harry felt like he was walking on air and everything seemed too good to be true. Everyone wanted to shake his hand or ruffle his hair, screaming his name, and trying to throw him in the air. At one point, Ron came forward and mumbled something ("I reckon someone wants to do you in, mate!"), but Harry was too concentrated on finding Hermione to do anything but absentmindedly nod and hurriedly escape from the noise and celebration.

He found her in one of the empty classrooms they had converted into their practice room, mumbling a spell under her breath that caused brightly coloured sparks to emit from her wand in the form of letters. Harry watched with fond amusement as she painstakingly tried to get them to form the words 'Congratulations, Harry!'

"I think they're fine just the way they are," He leaned against the door and remarked as nonchalantly as he could, pushing down the slight tingle in his chest at the sight.

"Harry!" She jumped, startled. "What are you doing here and not at the celebration?"

"What would I want to do there without you?"

"Well, I just thought I'd give you and Ron a chance to make up without me there interfering." She frowned. "He has apologized, hasn't he?"

He scratched his head and avoided her gaze. "I think he did? Dunno. Wasn't really paying much attention."

She gave him such a stern look that he felt the need to defend himself.

"It just feels so hollow, you know? No one could be bothered to help me before the task. Sure, the Gryffindors were happy that I represented them but it's not like anyone came to my defense while everyone scorned me as a liar and a cheat. Ron literally had weeks to realize that he was wrong and apologize. Why is he talking to me now, only once I'm the golden boy again?" He sighed. "That's not why I left though."

At her look of confusion, he explained: "None of them were there, Hermione. They don't know what I went through to get out of the first task alive. You're the only one who does. This isn't just my victory, it's ours." He smiled. "And I think we deserve a celebration for ourselves."

"What do you have in mind?"

He pulled her out of the classroom, laughing. "Haven't you ever wondered where Fred and George steal all the food from? You told me to try and contact Dobby about wards, but he was here at Hogwarts this whole time and we sort of ended up talking about something else entirely..."

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