Fourth Time's a Charm

xxxiii. games

Cassie's POV

It seemed Harry and Hermione had been quite satisfied by the information found in the library. In the past few days, they had hardly left it. I had finally been released from the hospital with a promise to return if anything should feel amiss.

While I had chosen not to join their adventures to the library, Harry and I had spent nearly every night in the common room trying to perfect the Accio charm. He was getting better, but it still took multiple tries before it worked.

But as we walked down from the castle, to the Quidditch pitch, it was evident that we were out of time.  Harry was next to me, anxiously twirling his wand in his hands.  I reached over to stop him as he started bending it—worried he might break it. Now certainly wouldn't be a good time for that.

"You're going to do fine,"  I whispered, putting a hand on his arm.

"Thanks, Sandy," he whispered back, making me roll my eyes at his newfound nickname. Over the past few days, it seemed to be his new favorite thing to tease me with it.

"Just you wait, Harry Potter, I will find a nickname for you and you will regret this." I nudged his shoulder with mine. He laughed looking down to smile at me. I returned it, proudly realizing this was the first smile I had seen from him all day.

We were nearing the tent where the champions were set to meet. I technically wasn't supposed to be there, but considering two of my friends and my brother were going into that arena, I wasn't letting them without properly wishing them luck.

I decided to see Fleur first, both of us opening our arms as I approached. She hugged me tightly, working more to reassure me than I did to her. Often I had voiced my concerns to her about the Tournament, talking about it with Harry and Cedric only making me feel worse. They combatted my fears, telling me everything would be fine. Fleur embraced them, and agreed that each of them could very well die. But I had to trust they were strong enough not to. It was starting to work.

"We'll get through this," she whispered in my ear before pulling away. Those seemed to be the golden words—no matter what happens in the arena life will have to go on. I nodded my head before pulling her into another quick hug.

I went to sit on one of the beds next to Cedric. He didn't notice me, just staring straight ahead at a wall of the tent. I reached over to take his hand, accidentally startling him. He looked down at me and smiled, squeezing my hand comfortingly.

"You better be careful," I said, squeezing his hand back.

"When am I anything else?" he asked cockily. I pushed his shoulder teasingly to which he gently pushed mine back. A voice in my head whispered that I had to hold onto these moments as they might be the last. I wrapped my arms tightly around him, reluctantly letting go after a few seconds. I wished this moment could have lasted forever, just sitting in this tent surrounded by friends... and Viktor Krum.

I moved to talk to Harry, even though I had been wishing him luck nearly all morning. The stakes felt like they suddenly rose as the confrontation drew nearer, no words could be sufficient to prepare either of us for the coming task.

"You aren't allowed to die, Harold," I stated firmly, a smile spreading across my face.

"Harold?" he asked, laughing.

"Harry is just so overused. I thought I'd make it something interesting."

"Whatever makes you happy, Sandy."

"It'd make me even happier if you don't die."

"I'd be pretty satisfied with that outcome, too."

I slapped his arm before the urge to hug him became overwhelming.

"I won't die, just for you," he whispered, only making me tighten my grasp. I knew it was an empty promise but it still went to calm my nerves a great deal.

Suddenly, a flash of light filled the tent. It was followed by the click of a camera that I turned to see directed at me and Harry.

"Ah! Young love!" Her voice was so high-pitched and bell-like I already wanted to vomit. I saw Fleur grit her teeth together and took a wild guess that this was the infamous Rita Skeeter.

She certainly had an interesting fashion sense. She was dressed in all green—quite an ugly shade at that, walking around with a matching quill scribbling away at the paper floating behind her.

"I would call it... stirring? Yes, if today goes poorly I reckon you'll make the front page," she exclaimed as if that was something to be happy about.

"You have no business here," Krum spoke up, getting up from his seat over in the corner. "This tent is for champions and friends."

She smiled smugly, signaling for her photographer to take another picture. "No matter, I have what I came for."

Realizing that everyone in the tent had some form of well wishes except Krum, I felt compelled to go over and talk to him. I steeled myself first, recognizing that he could be relatively intimidating—as just demonstrated with Skeeter.

"Thanks for that," I said as I got closer, seemingly surprising him. He looked up somewhat confused.

"Of course. I can't stand that woman."

"That seems to be the general consensus I hear." I pulled over a chair from next to a bed to sit next to him.

"You seem well acquainted with most of this tent. I don't believe that we have met before," he put his hand out to shake, introducing himself. "I'm Viktor Krum."

"I know," I said without thinking. "Sorry, that sounded a bit rude. I mean, you're either the World Quidditch star, a Triwizard Champion, or the guy who walks around Hogwarts with a gaggle of girls following him."

He nodded, amused. "I suppose that is true. What can I say, I'm a man of many names."

I laughed, realizing I should probably shake his hand as it had been hanging in the air for longer than usual. "I'm Cassie Everett."

His eyes widened in recognition. "So that's you? I've heard about you in all their interviews. You seem like a pretty important person to each of them."

"Oh, I'm not that important."

"Considering the only time any of them have looked calm in the past ten minutes was when you were with them, I beg to differ. But believe what you want."

I glanced over at the other three thoughtfully. Cedric had returned to staring at the wall, Fleur was pacing a hole into the floor, while Harry had returned to fidgeting with his wand.

"There was something I was hoping to ask you," Krum began, pulling me out of my observations. "I was wondering if—" he was interrupted as Dumbledore entered the tent, followed by the other headmasters and the administrators of the Tournament.

"We can talk later. I'll follow the drooling girls," he chuckled as we walked to the middle of the tent. "Good luck."

I wished each of the others well before leaving. I walked past a group of mystery beings, reminding myself that I still had to ask someone about them. It was so peculiar, they always seemed to be around that I had grown used to seeing them. Yet, I still didn't think the others could.

I found Hermione and Ron in the stands, all thoughts of weird pale people set aside. Neither said a word, all of us entranced by the dragon being brought out through a door on the opposite side of the stadium.

Let the games begin.