has gone to the dogs," Draco spat out, his blond hair brushing across his forehead, "wait until my father hears Dumbledore's got this oaf teaching classes."

First day of classes, and Harry and Ron were already making me carry their textbooks through the forest. It was a stupid bet that we made on the train, and I obviously lost it, so I had to face the consequences.

As I trudged behind my three friends, all of our heads snapped towards the Slytherin in front of us, his mouth drawn into a scowl. Clearly we wouldn't stand for someone insulting Hagrid, so there was hell to pay.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry hissed, breaking from our pack to approach Draco.

There was going to be another fight, wasn't there?

Glancing at Hermione in disbelief, I took a step from the group, blending into the crowd. I learned early on that I wasn't an asset to the group; I didn't have the brains, the quick comebacks, or the bravery. It wasn't that I was an outcast, it was just that I never proved reliable when it came to hitting back at Malfoy.

I could never look him in the eyes for some reason.

Dropping my handful of books onto a stone wall, I watched as Draco swaggered up to Harry, a smirk plastered all over his face. It was the first time I had gotten a good look at him this year, his blue eyes reflecting off the sun like a pool of water, and his cheekbones more evident then ever.

Third year was when he got pretty.

Not that it mattered, or anything.

Draco smiled cockily, his stare burned onto Harry's, but soon something else caught his attention. Flickering his gaze up towards the trees, his mouth dropped open in shock.

"D-d.." he choked out, stumbling back in fear, "dementor! Dementor!"

The entire class gasped, flipping around to see what the whole fuss was about. Naturally, it all ended up being a huge lie, an excerpt of one of the boy's usual pranks. They got Harry all riled up usually. As everyone exhaled in relief, I turned back around to see the boy's eyes on me.

Draco's eyes.

He looked amused, probably searching for any reaction on my face, but then he dipped his head down and glanced off to the side. It should have meant nothing, but it was all I could analyze for the next few hours.

Draco Malfoy had never noticed me before.

I wonder what he was thinking.

∞ ϟ

"Wake up!" Hermione urged, shaking my shoulders roughly, "[y/n], you need to wake up now!"

I fluttered my eyes open, spots of black covering my sight as I adjusted to the fire-lit room of the Great Hall.

Everyone was huddled around their tables, whispering to each other in confusion and disbelief. In the center of the hall was the Goblet of Fire, spewing up it's blue flames wildly, but this time it seemed more evident.

"What...?" I mumbled, rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand, "what's going on?"

It was a silent kind of chaos; the one where you couldn't hear it, but you knew damn well things were up in the air. Hermione and Ron were squished next to me at the tables, staring at me in worry.

I turned my head to the right, expecting to see a familiar face, but I was met with an empty spot.

"Where's Harry?" I whispered, turning back to my friends, "where did he go?"

They didn't respond, just staring at the table in disappointment.

"Hello?" I urged, "where is he?"

Still no response.

I frowned, leaning over the table, "someone better tell me what I missed, or I'm going to ask Dumbledore myself."

That seemed to get a reaction out of them, because their eyes widened at my words. They were holding back before, probably scared of how I'd react to the news, but I had to drag it out of them eventually.

Ron swallowed his spit anxiously, "you don't want to do that."

"Then tell me why everyone is freaking out!" I exclaimed, my voice lowered to a whisper.

Hermione reached out across the table, scooping up my hand and giving it a squeeze. She had this worried look on her face, one that could easily be read as fear, and her eyes were starting to pool with hesitance.

Ron wasn't any better. He looked mad, embarrassed, and resilient, a combination of things I rarely saw on him.

Something horrible must have happened for them to look like this.

"Harry..." Hermione started, pausing to catch her breath, "Harry was chosen to compete in the Triwizard Tournament."

What?

No, that couldn't be right.

I had to still be dreaming, wasn't I? The last thing I remembered was that moment in third year, thinking about a random assortment of things, and now this? There was no possible way they could be sirius, but the faces around me made it clear.

"No...no," I stammered, "there's no way he's playing in that tournament."

Dumbledore said people died in that tournament. Harry and I both had our share of life-threatening situations, but that didn't make him worthy of another one. 

How the hell did his name even get into the cup? 

Ron glanced at the floor in disdain, "no stopping it now."

"That's rubbish!"

"We're serious," Hermione cut in, "he has to go through with it, no matter if he put his name in the goblet or not."

I wasn't sure what to feel.

I wasn't sure what to say.

I had fallen asleep for what felt like a second, and when I awoke, I found out my best friend was about to risk his life in a tournament he wasn't supposed to be in. Shaking my head, I stood up from my chair, my lungs pressing together in worry.

What the hell.

"I need air," I said, shaking my head and storming down the aisle, "dammit."