TOGETHER (A HARRY POTTER LOVE STORY) 4

31

MILLIES POV:

"...and then I called him something that I would rather not be repeated, and then he told me to fuck off, and that was that."

To say Harry was angry about his surprise entrance into the Triwizard Tournament would be wrong, for, as of this moment, it seemed he had stupidly pushed this worrying event to the back of his mind. On the other hand, to say Harry was angry with Ron would be an understatement - Harry was fuming with Ron. He had just informed me of their argument last night, because apparently Ron believed that Harry had entered himself into the Tournament.

"I'm really surprised, I thought he would've believed you," I said truthfully, accepting my Firebolt back from Harry, who had kindly offered to carry it out of the castle, along with his own broomstick. That morning I had suggested a trip down to the Quidditch Stadium to let off some steam, and Harry had immediately accepted, which led us to this very moment of making our way very slowly across the grounds, talking rapidly about the current events. Across the lake, I could distantly see where the Durmstrang ship was moored, reflecting blackly in the water. It was a chilly day, and I was grateful for my thick Quidditch jumper, the sleeves of which I had pulled loosely over my hands.

"Yeah, so did I," Harry growled, staring forcefully at the ground. "Hermione says he's jealous," he added, with a tone of harsh amusement in his voice, suggesting that he definitely disagreed.

However, I didn't. "He could be."

"What?" Harry stopped dramatically, his eyes following me as I continued walking, raising my eyebrows as I glanced back at him. "Oh, come off it, Mills, not you too. I don't want to do this Tournament thing! He can take my place all he wants - in fact, I think I'll go offer it to him right this second-"

"Oh, shut up, H," I interrupted, fighting the urge to roll my eyes as I stepped back towards him and grabbed his wrist, tugging him back into a walk, to which he thankfully obliged. "I'm just saying - and don't be annoyed at me, I know you don't ask for it - but it is always you that gets the attention, you know it is! He's pushed to the side when people see you, and he puts up with it, but I guess this was just one time too many...I don't know..."

"Well, tell him from me I'll swap any time he wants," Harry continued his sulk bitterly, and this time I really did role my eyes. "If he wants a massive scar on his forehead that people just love to stare at all the time-"

"I'm not telling him anything," I snapped, furrowing my eyebrows at him. "You can tell him that, and let me know how things work out."

"I'm not telling him anything either! Maybe he'll believe I'm not enjoying myself once I'm on the verge of death again-"

"Harry!" I stopped him once again, slapping his arm in annoyance. "That's not funny!"

"Awe, Mills, you worried?" he asked teasingly, and to my slight relief, he was wearing a small grin as we locked eyes, his shoulder bumping into mine gently.

"Yes, I am! And you should be too!" I answered seriously, though I could not stop the shaky laugh that escaped my lips as I pushed him away, only resulting in him slinging an arm round my shoulders, the corner of his mouth turning upwards.

"As long as I've got you shouting 'Harry, I need you', then I should be okay-"

"Oh, H, that was literally in second year, please get over yourself! What about, 'There's nothing to worry about, not with us two, we're all good'-"

"Nice to hear that you memorise everything I say," he said smugly, earning himself an amused scoff from me. "And because we are all good. We've got each other, have we not?"