Fourth Time's a Charm

xxxv. subconcious

Cassie's POV

As soon as we could, Hermione and I were rushing towards the Champions tent. Ron started to follow before hesitating. I grabbed his arm and pulled him with me.

"Cass, I don't—" he started, but I swiftly cut him off.

"No. You said when the first task was over, you would fix things. You two are best friends, are you seriously going to let this stupid tournament get in the way of that?" I raised an eyebrow, daring him to disagree with me.

He sighed and we both caught up with Hermione who hadn't slowed for our conversation. Inside the tent, Madam Pomfrey was bouncing back between Harry and Cedric's bed treating each of their injuries. Cedric had sustained a burn across his face that wasn't pretty but as Madam Pomfrey continued pouring some odd substance across it, the marks started to fade.

Seeing Ron approach Harry's bed I decided to let them have a moment and went to sit on the corner of Cedric's bed. Seeing me, Madam Pomfrey gathered her supplies and went to work on Harry's shoulder, frustratedly muttering about the dragons.

"Good job," I smiled down at Cedric, laughing at the orange paste smothered across half his face.

"I didn't do all that great. I probably got injured the worst, I'm going to get last place," he sighed, not easily able to talk so as not to disturb the bright cream.

"Maybe... but you didn't die, and that's all that I care about."

A smile finally found its way onto his face. "Well, I promised, didn't I?"

"Yeah. You did." I put my hand out, extending my pinky. "And I'm holding you to it."

He looked at my hand, confused. "What is that?"

"Don't tell me you don't know what a pinky promise is! I thought that was just a collectively agreed-upon method of promise-making." He shook his head but mimicked my motion nevertheless.

I hooked my pinky around his, moving my hand like it was a handshake.

"That, my friend, is a pinky promise," I stated proudly, withdrawing my hand.

"What was the purpose?" He asked, staring up at his pinky still resting in the air.

I shrugged. "I guess there was none. But it's supposed to be a promise that you can't break, under no circumstance."

"Then I don't intend to."

I got up as Madam Pomfrey returned, knowing that meant she had finished with Harry. While I had hoped for Harry and Ron to work their problems out, I also worried if there was blood I might fall into a flashback. If she was leaving now, surely I'd be fine.

As I rounded the corner of the screen it seemed my efforts were futile as my knees went weak. I hadn't seen any blood, yet all I could see now was darkness.

But when the scene formed around me I didn't see my stepfather or the dreadful house I was so familiar with. This room was different, but it still made me feel tense.

"Don't let them take me away," A voice that sounded a bit like mine whispered.

"I won't. I promise," Another answered. I hadn't been aware there was someone else in the room, but it sounded like a child. I saw an arm reach out, a pinky extended that I took with my own. I tried to look up so I could see their face but my conscience wouldn't let me, pushing me back out of the memory as soon as I had entered it.

"Are you alright, Cass?" Hermione asked, seeing me standing there.

"Fine. I'm fine," I said slowly, mentally checking myself to make sure it was true. The only problem now was I had absolutely no idea where that had come from.

I knew it was a memory, my flashbacks always were. And something about it felt so real. But who was the other person, and why didn't I remember this until now? 'Don't let them take me away wasn't a phrase one easily forgot.

I shook my head, returning to the present, and going to sit on the chair next to Harry's bed. I glanced at Ron with a quizzical expression and he discreetly nodded his head. I smiled, glad that they could finally make up.

"How're you feeling, Harold?" I was answered with a groan.

"I mean fine, but I just want to know my score and then take a nap."

"A nap? No way! We have to throw a party when we get back!" Ron interjected excitedly.

Harry rolled his eyes, but I could still see the happiness that emitted off of him, the joy of finally having his best friend back.

Madam Pomfrey poked her head around to tell Harry that he was permitted to leave. He grabbed his broom, which had been brought in with him, and draped his robe over the same arm. I hooked my arm through his other side, needing some way to make sure this was real. This wasn't just another moment created by my subconscious, and Harry was really okay. The smile I saw above me confirmed that.

We walked out of the tent as four friends: something that hadn't happened in far too long.