"I'm screwed," Harry couldn't help but think to himself as he stared at the list of spells before him.
Some of them he knew, some of them he didn't, and absolutely none of them would help him against a bloody dragon. It was a strange thing for someone who had faced death as many times as he had to think, but in that moment, Harry wasn't sure if he had ever felt quite this much dread.
"We'll figure it out, Harry," Hermione said, sounding like she was trying to convince herself as much as him.
"We always have before," Harry said, forcing a smile that didn't seem to fool the bushy-haired brunette at all.
"The library closes in fifteen minutes," Madam Pince called out.
"We should probably head back," Harry sighed, closing the book. "I don't think I'm actually processing much right now anyway."
"You go ahead," Hermione said. "Try to get some sleep tonight, and we'll get back to this in the morning."
"I'll just help you with the books," Harry said.
"No, Harry," Hermione said. "You look exhausted, and I'm more than capable of turning a big pile of books in. It's hardly the first time."
"Or the hundredth," Harry remarked, earning a small smile from her. "I'll see you in the morning, Hermione."
"Night, Harry," Hermione said.
"Night," Harry said, grabbing his things and turning to leave.
He wandered in a daze, relatively sure that he was heading in the direction of the Gryffindor Common Room, but not giving it much thought. The past few weeks had been a nightmare even by his standards, and there was part of him that had begun to wonder if this might be it for him.
"I have to face a bloody dragon, and I have no plan," he thought to himself in a panic. "I had no plan for the basilisk either, but I somehow doubt that Fawkes and the Sorting Hat will be able to bail me out of this one."
So consumed was he by his internal dooming that he failed to notice someone coming the other way as he turned a corner and bumped into the person. His well-trained seeker reflexes saved the day, and he managed to catch her before she fell, noticing that the person he bumped into was a blonde girl in Ravenclaw. Her big silver eyes stared up at him as he kept his arm around her waist just a moment longer than he meant to.
"I'm so sorry," Harry said. "I wasn't looking where I was going."
"It's okay," the girl said, her voice light and ethereal. "I've always wondered what it was like to be a golden snitch, and now I know."
Harry would have laughed, but she sounded like she was serious, and he didn't want to insult her.
"You poor thing," she said, reaching up and grazing the backs of her nails through his scalp. "Your head's so full of Wrackspurts that I'm surprised you can think at all."
Harry took a step back from the strange girl, choosing not to focus on the pleasant chill her touch had sent down his spine, and asked, "Wrackspurts?"
"They're invisible little creatures that fly in through our ears and make our minds go all fuzzy," she said. "You have one of the worst cases of them I've ever seen. You can make them go away by thinking positive thoughts."
"Well, I'm rather low on positive thoughts at the moment," Harry muttered.
"Because of the tournament?" the girl asked.
"Yes, because of the tournament," Harry hissed, feeling bad when the girl looked sad. "I'm sorry, it's just...I learned what the first task is, and I have no idea what I'm going to do."
"What is it?" she asked. "I overheard one of the first years speculating that you'd have to arm-wrestle trolls, but I said that couldn't possibly be it."
"I might honestly prefer that," Harry muttered. "We'll be going up against dragons."
"Fighting them?" the girl asked.
"Getting past them," Harry said.
"Probably stealing something," the girl speculated. "I've heard that Gringotts uses dragons to guard their most valuable vaults."
"So that's what I was thinking about when I bumped into you," Harry said. Looking down, he noticed something that he hadn't before and asked, "um, where are your shoes?"
"They were stolen by the nargles," the girl replied. "I've no idea where they've put them."
"Nargles?" Harry asked.
"I'm screwed," Harry couldn't help but think to himself as he stared at the list of spells before him.
Some of them he knew, some of them he didn't, and absolutely none of them would help him against a bloody dragon. It was a strange thing for someone who had faced death as many times as he had to think, but in that moment, Harry wasn't sure if he had ever felt quite this much dread.
"We'll figure it out, Harry," Hermione said, sounding like she was trying to convince herself as much as him.
"We always have before," Harry said, forcing a smile that didn't seem to fool the bushy-haired brunette at all.
"The library closes in fifteen minutes," Madam Pince called out.
"We should probably head back," Harry sighed, closing the book. "I don't think I'm actually processing much right now anyway."
"You go ahead," Hermione said. "Try to get some sleep tonight, and we'll get back to this in the morning."
"I'll just help you with the books," Harry said.
"No, Harry," Hermione said. "You look exhausted, and I'm more than capable of turning a big pile of books in. It's hardly the first time."
"Or the hundredth," Harry remarked, earning a small smile from her. "I'll see you in the morning, Hermione."
"Night, Harry," Hermione said.
"Night," Harry said, grabbing his things and turning to leave.
He wandered in a daze, relatively sure that he was heading in the direction of the Gryffindor Common Room, but not giving it much thought. The past few weeks had been a nightmare even by his standards, and there was part of him that had begun to wonder if this might be it for him.
"I have to face a bloody dragon, and I have no plan," he thought to himself in a panic. "I had no plan for the basilisk either, but I somehow doubt that Fawkes and the Sorting Hat will be able to bail me out of this one."