LIONHEART ❃ george weasley

022 | tomorrow

Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow, they chanted, and she didn't recall leaving the classroom but she was pushing through a crowded corridor now, moving on autopilot. She was having a funeral for herself in another corner of her mind; she could see her gravestone next to her brother's, and Harry Potter was standing next to her parents, all dressed in black. "Albany," he was saying, with oddly placed concern, given she had just died-

"Albany?"

She blinked and lifted her head; the flow of the crowd had carried her to the edge of the courtyard. Oh right, I haven't died yet. Fred and George had moved past her, unaware that she had stopped, though glancing over the heads of the crowd, she could see their bright red hair making their way back towards her up the hall.

Harry Potter called her name again, and she focused lazily on the boy in front of her, who was standing as though he were itching to get somewhere else, buzzing with the same nerves that plagued her.

"Yeah, sorry," she said, trying hard to pull herself out of her head. "Need something?"

"I know what the first task is," he said under his breath, eyes darting around with caution.

Albany felt her heart immediately plummet to new depths. The world and the rushing corridor and the noisy students all became intensely silent behind her as she stared at Harry, scared to breathe.

"What...?"

"Dragons."

Harry must have punched her in the stomach, because the little air in her lungs rushed out so quick she was left winded. Was she falling? She reached out a hand to catch herself, but only stumbled back a step, sure she had been swaying dangerously on her heels.

Dragons?

"You - you're sure?" she asked, voice like a whisper.

Harry nodded. "I saw them myself," he said. "All the other champions know, so I thought I'd tell you."

Each breath was an intense labour; her skin felt clammy and prickled under her robes. Dragons. Breathe in. Tomorrow, dragons. And out.... Holy fucking shit, dragons.

"Th-thanks," she stuttered, and took a gasping inhale. When had breathing been so difficult...?

Harry nodded awkwardly, and hurried off, fading into the surrounding silence. Choking, suffocating, chilly but simultaneously sweaty silence-

"Allie!" Fred called, and he had stepped into the pocket of space around her, George too. "You didn't tell us you were hanging back here-"

They were close, too close, they were going to get swallowed too if they didn't step back, step back-

"Dragons," Albany gasped, can't breathe, tomorrow, dragons why can't I breathe?

George's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She glanced up at him with a desperation for the grounding he always brought her, counted the freckles that scattered over his nose, one, two, three, dragons, four, TOMORROW, DRAGONS.

"Dragons?" George echoed. "Al-"

"The first - the first task," she explained, and her shoulders heaved with the effort of speaking; she didn't have enough air, she was going to die tomorrow, was she dying right now?

Realisation flooded the twins' identical features, as did horror and concern.

"Albany? It's going to be okay, you've practiced for this," Fred reasoned. "They won't put you in life-threatening danger, there'll be people on the side to help if you need...."