"Do you think we could go down and visit my dad? I think he'd like to meet you," Amisty asked as they stepped out of the Three Broomsticks.
"I'd love to!" Hermione beamed, tightening her scarf around her neck as she peered across the village. "He lives by the cabins, right?"
"Yeah, Cabin Seventeen," Amisty nodded, looking over at where she assumed Harry was. "You up for it?"
"Sure, as long as his house is warm," Harry replied quietly.
So she lead the way through the villages and toward the cabins, counting down the copper numbers on the passing houses. Once again, the faint notes of the piano reached her ears, and her dad's house came into view.
The statue was still there, still and stone but incredibly realistic, and the candles were lit, spilling golden light across the wooden planks of the porch. She climbed up the steps, the wood creaking under her feet, and knocked on the worn door. Hermione and Harry were close behind her, looking around curiously.
"Dad, it's me!" She called, knowing her voice would carry through the slightly open windows.
"Coming!" He called back, the music of the piano pausing and following by the shuffling of feet.
The door swung open, and they were greeted by a very happy, very clean looking Noel. His hair wasn't a mess, his clothes were clean, and he looked well rested with an easy smile on his face and bright brown eyes.
"Hi, Amisty," He grinned down at her, and then looked over his shoulder. "Are these your friends?"
"Well, two of them," She nodded, hoping Harry would think she was only referring to Ron and not a certain Slytherin.
Hermione certainly knew, judging by the little smile she was sporting.
"Come in, come in," He stepped to the side, and the hurried inside, grateful to be out of the cold.
Now that she wasn't visiting there as if she were a stranger, and her emotions were far from angry and sad, she was able to take a better look around at the place her dad called home.
A fire roared in the hearth, flooding the cabin with warmth and light, and a couch and chair were sitting across from it, both made from well-worn leather. Photographs and paintings lined the walls, all moving and charmed. Wizarding pictures.
There were two doors off the to right, probably a bathroom and bedroom, and the kitchen was warm and inviting. A kettle was sitting on top of the stove, and wooden cabinets were overhead, presumably holding cups and bowls and plates, with the drawers underneath holding silverware.
"Would you like some tea?" Dad asked, clearly delighted at having visitors.
"No thank you, Mr. River," Hermione declined politely for all of them. "We just had Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks."
"Ah, forgive me, but I forgot to ask your names," He grinned sheepishly, pulling up seats to the kitchen table and gesturing for them to sit.
"Oh, sorry, Dad," Amisty smiled faintly, before pointing at her friends. "That's Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."
Harry seemed to be bracing himself, but whatever he was waiting for didn't come.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard a lot about you two over Amisty's letters," He beamed.
He was right. Over the summer Amisty had sent constant streams of information about what life was like at Hogwarts to make up for the time she wasn't able to talk to him.
In return, he answered all her questions about him, Echo, Haven, and anything else she was confused about.
It was rather helpful when it came to her summer assignments. Harry seemed relieved.
"It's nice to meet you, too, Mr. River," He grinned, not even bothering to flatten his hair to hide his scar.
"So what's been going on in Hogwarts with the Triwizard Tournament going on and all?" He asked, adding quickly at their dark expressions.
"I don't believe a word that Skeeter woman says, Harry, she just spouts off lie after lie."
"It hasn't been like that for the rest of the school," Harry muttered bitterly, glaring at nothing in particular.
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, not one person in Hogsmeade thinks you're as weak as she made you seem. In fact, quite a lot of them are rooting for you," He replied.
"They are?" Harry asked, shocked. Amisty grinned down at her feet.
"Of course."
The conversation picked up, ranging from the other champions to the garbage in the newspaper to anything and everything in between.
When they left Harry looked much more happy than he had in the past week.
"Your dad is amazing," He declared loudly as soon as they stepped out of the cabin and back into the snow.
Amisty laughed.
"Has he been helping you with your shifting?" Hermione asked, substantially quieter.
"I haven't brought it up," Amisty shook her head. "Don't want to make him relive memories he shouldn't."
Hermione nodded, her expression thoughtful. The three of them wandered around Hogsmeade for a while longer, hopping inside stores for a few moments to either warm up or purchase a few things, before returning to the castle.
-=+=-
Harry came down to breakfast the next morning disheveled, and he waited impatiently for Amisty and Hermione to finish their breakfast before dragging them off to the school grounds.
They walked around the lake, Harry telling them why Hagrid had wanted him to meet him.
Dragons.
Four great big dragons, and the one simple spell that could defeat them.
And then a recap of his conversation with Sirius, the warnings of Karkaroff being a Death Eater, and a wanted one at that with Moody being the one to throw him into Azkaban.
"Let's just try and keep you alive until Tuesday evening and then we can worry about Karkaroff," Hermione pleaded.
Amisty nodded feverishly. So they walked around the lake three times, trying and failing to come up with simple spells to defeat a dragon.
When they realized how they were getting nowhere, they went to the library instead, scanning through books upon books about dragons.
"'Talon-clipping by charms... treating scale-rot...' This won't work, this is for people like Hagrid who want a dragon for a pet..." Amisty sighed, shoving the half-read book away.
"'Dragons are extremely difficult to slay, owing to the ancient magic that imbues their thick hides, which none but the most powerful spells can penetrate...' But Sirius said a simple one would do it..." Hermione followed.
"Let's try some simple spellbooks, then," Harry decided, shoving his own book away and pulling another stack toward them.
They scanned through the pages, hurriedly flipping past spells that seemed pointless, with Hermione whispering constantly.
"Well, there are Switching Spells... but what's the point of Switching it? Unless you swapped its fangs for wine-gums or something that would make it less dangerous... The trouble is, like that book said, not much is going to get through a dragon's hide... I'd say Transfigure it, but something that big, you really haven't got a hope, I doubt even Professor McGonagall... unless you're supposed to put the spell on yourself? Maybe to give yourself extra powers? But they're not simple spells, I mean, we haven't done any of those in class, I only know about them because I've been doing O.W.L. practice papers..."
"Hermione, will you shut up for a bit, please? I'm trying to concentrate," Harry asked, his voice strained.
Hermione nodded, blushing slightly as she returned full-focus to her book.
Anteoculatia? How on earth would that help against a dragon, giving to more horns?
Hover Charm? Dragons don't need help flying.
"Oh no, he's back again," Hermione scowled.
Amisty looked up, spotting Viktor Krum slouching in, throwing them a surly look as he took a seat at his usual table, "why can't he read on his stupid ship. Come on, we'll go back to the common room... his fan club'll be here in a moment, twittering away..."
And they left the library, passing the said group of girls who were whispering, one of which had a Bulgaria scarf 'round her waist.
-=+=-
Hermione and Amisty were working in Herbology, pruning Flutterby Bushes, when Harry rushed in.
"Hermione, Amisty -- " He whispered, voice sharp and eyes bright. "I need you to help me."
"What d'you think we've been trying to do, Harry?" Hermione replied, equally as quiet.
"Hermione, I need to learn how to do a Summoning Charm properly by tomorrow afternoon."
And so, when lunch came around they didn't go to the Great Hall, they hid inside a free classroom and coached Harry into getting random objects to fly toward him.
So far he only managed to get them halfway across the room.
"Concentrate, Harry, concentrate..." Hermione hissed.
"What d'you think I'm trying to do?" He spat back, just as frustrated as they were. "A great big dragon keeps popping into my head for some reason... Okay, try again..."
Divination came, passed, and then they rushed through dinner and went back to the classroom, hidden under the Invisibility Cloak.
He was getting better, the objects made it three-quarters of the way there before falling.
"C'mon, Harry, nearly there," Amisty urged.
It went on and on until past midnight, where they were interrupted by Peeves, who started chucking chairs at all of them and forcing them to flee up to the empty Gryffindor common room.
They just continued to practice.
Two o'clock came, Harry standing by the fireplace with books, quills, chairs, a set of Gobstones, Trevor the toad, and plenty other things in messy piles around him.
"That's better, Harry, that's loads better," Hermione beamed, rubbing the exhaustion from her eyes.
"Well, now we know what to do next time I can't manage a spell, threaten me with a dragon," His smile was half-hearted as he fought sleep. "Right... Accio Dictionary!"
Amisty grinned widely as the book soared out of her hands into his, "You've got it!"
"Just as long as it works tomorrow. The Firebolt's going to be much farther away than the stuff in here, it's going to be in the castle, and I'm going to be out there on the grounds..." He replied.
"That doesn't matter. Just as long as you're concentrating really, really hard on it, it'll come. Harry, we'd better get some sleep..." Hermione argued, her voice final, "you're going to need it."
-=+=-
Amisty had received a letter from Madame Pomfrey early the next morning, the owl who delivered it quite tired as he perched on the edge of her bed.
"Go up to the owlery," She whispered to the poor thing, stroking his head. "I'll get my own owl to reply for you."
He hooted his thanks, blinking his eyes tiredly and flying out through the open window.
Dear Amisty,
If you're up for it, I'm going to need help in the healing tent for the entirety of the tournament. I know you've taken an interest in healing and this would be good experience for you to have. You won't have the best view of the tasks, and I know you have a friend participating in them this year, so I won't be offended if you choose not to. There's no need to reply to this letter. Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall agree with me and trust you to behave accordingly when you're helping me. If you want to help just tell Ludo Bagman before lunch and he'll take you to the tent.
Take care, Madame Pomfrey
Amisty grinned down at the paper, almost glowing with excitement as she tucked the letter into her robes and shook Hermione awake so they could head down to breakfast.
The entire school was buzzing excitedly, tense and full of anticipation for the first task. Harry seemed to be in a daze as they traveled through their lessons, and when lunch came Professor McGonagall hurried toward him, her face anxious.
"Potter, the champions have to come down onto the grounds now... You have to get ready for your first task," She told him.
"Okay," Harry replied, his voice eerily calm but the fact that his fork fell to his plate betrayed the unfeeling tone.
"Good luck, Harry. You'll be fine!" Hermione whispered.
"We believe in you!" Amisty whispered, squeezing his hand tight.
She wasn't surprised to find it clammy and shaky.
"Yeah," Harry nodded, his voice sounding nothing like him as he left the hall with Professor McGonagall.