As the Sister of Harry Potter

Funnily enough, over the next week after Diggory and I’s argument (well, more like, my confrontation, but anyways), there seemed to be a depletion of the “POTTER STINKS!” badges in the Hufflepuff population. Either Diggory was scared of me, took my words to heart, or both.

It turns out this year, Moody’s been the most helpful teacher besides Hagrid. Thus far, he’s turned Malfoy into a bouncing ferret, and he gave Harry an idea on how to get past the dragon: flying. But since you were only allowed a wand, Harry now had to master the Accio Charm in about a week in order to make this all work. Meaning Hermione and I have been working his butt off all week on it.

It was the night before the first task. The three of us were in the Transfiguration room, (which McGonagall had let us borrow) making objects zoom across the room towards us.

“Accio!” said Harry, and a chair flew towards him. He jumped out of its path.

Hermione clapped her hands together. “Harry, I really think you’ve got it!”

“Me too. But let’s see how well,” I said. “Try and summon your broom, Harry.”

“Erm, right…” he said, and pointed his wand roughly in the direction of the common room. “Accio Firebolt!”

“Just hope it doesn’t do mine too,” I muttered. Hermione laughed. She was really in a good mood.

About a minute later, Harry’s Firebolt whistled into the room. I grinned and hugged him.

“Outstanding, Harry!” Hermione cheered, extremely pleased. We all trooped back upstairs after that and into the common room. Launa greeted us.

“’Ow did it go? Oh!” she said, seeing Harry holding his broom. “So zit’s la reason your broom was flying around! You got it, zen? C’est fantastique!”

“Yeup!” said Hermione. Just then, Ophilia came down the girls’ staircase. Her short, wild hair was now red and gold.

“What do you think? Did it up just for you, Harry,” she said, giving him a glomping hug. We all laughed.

-

The next day, my nerves were almost unstandable. I mean, I only had to watch my little brother take on a fully-grown dragon. No problem. Norbert had been bad enough, but this? Goodness I was worried. What if something went wrong? What if Harry made that one wrong move and got eaten or burned alive? What if-

“You okay Jen? You look a bit on edge,” said George as he, Fred, Ophilia, Sarlanda and I made our way down to the Quidditch Pitch where the task was being held. His words cut right into my worrying, and I noticed all of them were looking at me in concern.

“Do I?” I asked, the nerves coming through even in my voice. This was so weird. Ophilia’s usually the one who had problems with nerves. Then again, I am the over-protective big sister.

“Yeah, you keep muttering to yourself,” said Ophilia.

“Sorry, I’m just… worried about Harry.”

“Come off it Jen, Harry’ll be fine!” said Fred. I sure hoped so.

I saw Harry outside the champion’s tent and wished him luck, giving him a hug. The temptation to drag him away from this mess was huge, but I let go and went to find a seat. George patted my shoulder after we had sat down about half-way up the stands.

“He’s gonna be great Jen.”

“He’d better be.”

“Welcome to the first task! In this task, each champion will have to collect the golden egg, which is guarded by a dragon,” Bagman’s voice boomed over the crowd.

“Oh bloody hell, not him again…” I groaned. George laughed. I had gotten enough of Bagman’s commentaries at the World Cup, thanks.

“First up will be Cedric Diggory facing the Swedish Short-Snout!” Loads of people applauded and cheered. I sure didn’t. Did I think him getting eaten by a dragon would help things? Not with the situation with Harry it wouldn’t, but at least he wouldn’t be around to bother me, unless he came back as a ghost. Which, he would. He so would.

When Ophilia heard his name she got really excited for some reason.

“Jen! Holy Fizzing Whizbees I forgot to–” The crowd drowned out her words as Diggory entered the stadium, looking nervous and practically shaking as he saw his rather large blue-gray dragon.

“What?” I yelled, but I could barely even hear myself.

She instead shook her head and mouthed, ‘Tell you later.’

-

Finally, it was Harry’s turn. He was last, and he had to face a Hungarian Horntail, which had just been brought out into the arena. I kept biting my lower lip, and I think it started bleeding at one point, but I didn’t really notice. I was instead focused completely on the dragon.

“Harry Potter, our last champion, will be facing the deadly Hungarian Horntail!” Harry walked out and faced the dragon and the deafening roar of the crowd. At least he wasn’t shaking like Diggory had been.

“Woo! Go Harry!” Ophilia cheered as Sarlanda whistled.

‘Be careful…’ I thought. ‘I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt.’

Harry pulled out his wand, and I just barely heard him yell, “Accio Firebolt!” For a few moments, Harry just stood there while the dragon roared and stamped, straining to get at him. Then, there was a whistling noise, and Harry’s Firebolt flew into the stadium. Harry jumped on it and took off flying. Everyone cheered as Harry flew towards the dragon. He dodged just about everything; fire, claws, and teeth. Suddenly, the dragon swung its tail at him. I gasped and covered my eyes. ‘Oh no oh no oh no-’

George pulled them away. "He's fine, look Jen, it hardly nicked him," he said, pointing to Harry, who was circling around the dragons head, clutching his arm to his side. The dragon rose a bit off the ground, and in that split second, Harry dived to the dragons’ feet and scooped up the golden egg. He rose triumphantly and everyone burst out screaming.

"Our youngest champion is quickest with his egg!" Bagman yelled.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I felt like screaming to release all the built-up tension.

I saw Harry get shooed off by Madam Pomfrey. I jumped out of my seat and fought the crowd to get to the medical tent. I needed to make sure he was alright. Ophilia rushed after me. When I finally reached it, I pushed inside, Ophilia following soon, panting slightly. Harry’s arm was fine; there was no sign of a gash or even that he had been hit by the dragon at all.

"Merlin!" I cried, flinging my arms around his neck, fighting back tears. I was out-of-control hysterical, which earned me a slight glare from Madam Pomfrey before she went off to check on Diggory, who had been burned by his dragon, much to my pleasure. "I'm so glad you’re alright!"

"Yeah, I’m fine! Really!" said Harry. "Hey, did you get in another fight or something? Your lip’s all bloody."

"Oh, no, that's from her worrying too much. Come on Harry, let’s go see your score" said Ophilia, and we all walked outside. There, waiting for us, were Hermione and Ron. They and Harry went off talking about to see his scores while Ophilia and I stayed behind at the tent.

I put my face in my hands, closed my eyes, and let out a long sigh. "Am I glad that’s over."

"Yeah," said Ophilia. I looked at her. She had a mischievous look in her eyes.

"What?" I didn’t like that look. Not at all.

She shook her head. "In the tent."

“What?”

"You didn’t notice?"

“Obviously not.”

"Holy Fizzing Whizbees, it was so obvious Jennifer Potter!"

"WHAT was?" I asked. I hated when she did this.

Ophilia giggled. "Someone couldn't stop staring at you!"

"Who?"

She rolled her eyes. "Diggory of course!"

Oh no, him again? Why did he seem to be popping up in my life so much lately?

“And that matters why? Everyone was probably staring at me, I was acting like a hysterical git!”

“Oh no, this was different. Trust me, I’m the expert here at this stuff. He likes you.”

My jaw dropped. “He does not! And I find that rather insulting!”

“Yes he does, I told you, I’m an expert. I can tell from his looks. He stares at you in class all the time, you’re just too busy being oblivious to notice.”

My jaw detached from my skull at this point. Ophilia had never been this straightforward, or this serious. “But… but… he’s so annoying! And-” I really couldn’t think of what to say, other than spurting nonsense.

“I’m just telling you he likes you,” she said before running off to meet up with the Twins. I walked with Sarlanda back up to the school.

“Ophilia’s playing matchmaker again, isn’t she?” Sarlanda asked.

“Yes. I really wish she wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, but you know her.”

“Hopeless romantic,” we said in union.