even when we grow old [hermione]

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The first task of the Triwizard Tournament was the next evening, and Harry was a nervous wreck. He was worried for Anna – he knew that the Triwizard Tournament didn’t ease into things. You were just thrown in head first and expected to swim. His first task had been with a dragon, after all. Anna was capable, and she was older than Harry had been when he had competed, but that didn’t nullify the fact that he was her uncle, and he was worried about her. Harry had wanted to spend the night making sure that every security measure was up to par, but eventually logic (and sheer exhaustion) had won over, and he had gone home to Godric’s Hollow. Harry knew that he would sleep, eventually, but it was still a long way away for Harry. He had attempted to write out his feelings, but had stopped about three seconds in because he felt ridiculous (and he still had a little bit of an irrational fear of journals, not that he’d ever tell Ginny that). Instead, Harry sat at the kitchen table and attempted to read some incidence reports, waiting for them to bore him to sleep.

@hermionejean

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Hermione couldn’t sleep the night before the First Task; not out of nerves, but just not being able to shut her brain off. She would be attending along with Harry, she was not about to be absent from this event. Besides, she needed to meet with Neville and coming for the Task was the perfect segue to head up to the castle to see him. She paced her study, looking over the safety preparations for the students, and the safety mechanisms she would be leaving in place at the Ministry. Suddenly, she stopped, and sighed. She looked at the clock on the wall and figured it wasn’t too late to see if Harry and Ginny were still awake. Throwing on her travel cloak, she Apparated to Godrics Hollow. She saw a light on in the Potters’ window; she had of course been right in thinking at least one of them was awake. It was probably Harry; she knew their niece being Hogwarts champions hadn’t helped his nerves, which were already stretched thin with the reintroduction of the Triwizard Tournament at the school. She strode towards the door and knocked twice loudly. “Harry? It’s Hermione,” she called through the wooden door.

HARRY JAMES POTTER

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Boring himself to sleep hadn’t worked. Harry was going to heat up some milk and see if that worked more effectively when he heard a knock on the door. He levered himself up out of his chair before moving towards the door, listening as Hermione’s voice announced her presence. Well, that saved him the effort of having to look through the peephole. But he was still going to, because along with nail-biting nerves came paranoia, so much so that when Harry pressed his eye against the peephole, he had the absurd idea to ask Hermione a question to verify her identity. Just in case, he told himself. Now would be the best time to incapacitate him and leave the First Task with less defense. “What spell did Ron use to take out the mountain troll in our first year?” Harry asked, his hand on the doorknob. He didn’t expect Hermione to answer incorrectly, but if she did, he’d cross that bridge when he got there.

@hermionejean

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Hermione understood why Harry asked the question; with the events the last year had held for the wizarding world, extra security was far less paranoia as it was a necessity. “Wingardium Leviosa. Why did I need saving from the troll in the first place?” she answered and asked in return, not helping the smirk that came to her lips. Oh, she remembered that day well; it had gone from the lowest low in her short school life to one of the highest highs. Even though she had lost five points for Gryffindor that day, she had gained the two best friends she ever could have asked for. Now one was her husband, and Harry was her brother-in-law through his marriage to Ginny. Some people might find it odd that both Harry and Hermione ended up marrying their school-aged sweethearts, but to her it just seemed completely natural. Well, as natural as Ron and Hermiones’ relationship could be anyway. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious, just some standard review of the security for tomorrows’ Task,” she added through the door. Their niece Molly, or Anna as she liked to be known as, had been picked for the Hogwarts Champion, and Hermione was incredibly proud of her. She knew though that Harry would be up the entire night worrying, which was why she decided to stop in in the first place.

HARRY JAMES POTTER

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Harry nodded to himself when Hermione answered the question correctly. Of course she answered it correctly – no one could really impersonate Hermione Granger, at least not well. When she asked a question in return, Harry rolled his eyes. “Because your husband is a git and always has been.” As much as Harry loved Ron, sensitivity was not one of his strongest suits, and never had been. Hermione had been crying in the bathroom when the troll had been released, due to Ron’s stupidity. (And maybe a bit of Harry’s, but he was just going to let Ron take the fall for this one.) Harry turned his hand that was already on the knob while Hermione was talking about something being a standard security review. “This Tournament shouldn’t be happening in the first place.” He muttered as he swung the door open. He rarely got a chance to gripe about how much he disliked the Tournament; as Head Auror, Harry was expected to put on a good face for the public no matter his opinions, to make them feel safer or something of the sort. He couldn’t even complain to the majority of his family, given the fact that his niece was the Minister and someone would probably try to spin it into Harry disliking her or something of the sort. He was just…tired. “Do you want anything to drink?” Harry offered as he led Hermione to the temporary workspace he had set up in the kitchen. He had drank all of the milk he had warmed earlier, but he was sure Hermione wouldn’t ask for anything horribly extravagant.

@hermionejean

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Hermione understood why Harry hated the tournament of course, he had good reason. The Tournament he had been selected to participate in had been used as a means to resurrect Voldemort, by way of Barty Crouch Jr and some well-stocked Polyjuice Potion. She knew he’d seen Cedric die in front of him, and watched as some of the people he loved most died as a result of the Second Wizarding War. In the end though, Voldemort had been defeated for good; he wasn’t coming back this time. They had made sure of that. “Harry..I know you don’t like the Tournament, and I’m not saying you don’t have a good reason to hate it. But we’ve already gone through one successful Tournament; well, Durmstrang won so I wouldn’t call it a success for Hogwarts,” she said, chuckling at her own quip. “But, you know we cannot stay fixated on the past. Remember what Dumbledore said ‘it does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.’ We took what happened in your Tournament, and learned from it. The Tournament at Durmstrang didn’t have any issues, and this one won’t either. Unless you count some injuries on the Champions part with what’s planned for them,” she said. Knowing what the Champions, their niece included were facing, Hermione didn’t mind being the spectator. “I’ll just have a Scotch, if you have some,” she told him as he offered her a drink. Hermione wasn’t that much of a drinker but she did enjoy a nice glass of Scotch from time to time. “How was Anna when you went up to see her?” she asked him, curious how their niece was faring.



HARRY JAMES POTTER

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One successful Tournament wasn’t enough. All that meant was that there was now an equal shot of someone dying and not dying. Fifty percent either way was not a chance that Harry wanted to take. He sighed when Hermione quoted Dumbledore at him. She always could get so high and mighty about these sort of things. “The funny thing about dreams is that they never happen.” Harry snapped. “I’d invite you to phone Amos Diggory and ask him if his son was just a dream, and see what kind of reaction that gets.” Had Hermione just conveniently forgotten all the trauma that Harry had gone through? Sure, he had put off processing it all since there were other things to do, like save the world, but it frustrated him to no end that people still expected him to go through life like he was fine when the lightning bolt on his forehead was the least of all the scars that he bore. “Tell me, did the Durmstrang Tournament occur a year after the school had been attacked and several students murdered?” It wasn’t just the fact that there was a Tournament, though that was a big part of it. There couldn’t have been worse timing, especially for the man in charge of keeping everyone involved safe. Harry nodded tersely when Hermione asked for scotch, opening the liquor cabinet and pouring her a generous portion. “Anna was fine.” He said, not offering any more elaboration. The fact that Hermione was worried about Anna’s well-being at all only proved his point that this Tournament shouldn’t have been happening.

@hermionejean

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Hermione sighed; she had been aware that the Tournament triggered something in Harry, but she hadn’t realized just how bad it was. “No, but as with your tournament, negotiations began months ago; we had been told about it before the kidnappings, far before. We couldn’t just back out after everything we’ve prepared for it. But we can take what we learned from your Tournament and press it to our advantage.” She pursed her lips, gently swirling around the drink in her glass, mulling over her next words.


“If you feel like you can’t handle this Harry, you don’t have to be involved. We can rework security with a task force of the more seasoned Aurors. But if you can, then I think you personally be useful in ensuring safety. You’ve been through this before, only you know what really happened at the Graveyard, and quite frankly you’re the only one alive and fit enough to talk about what Barty Crouch Jr. confessed. Sharing what happened could also be therapeutic as well as strategic,” she said to him, draining the contents of her cup. She raised her eyebrow at his short answer. “She’s my niece Harry, I’m allowed to worry after my niece’s well-being even though I agreed to going through with the Tournament. Just like I am worried about all of my nieces and nephews,” she said waspishly.

HARRY JAMES POTTER

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Harry shook his head. Negotiations could be easily stopped, not that he was going to tell Hermione and have her continue to lecture him like he was nothing more than a child who was scared of the dark.

“I can handle it!” Harry snapped when Hermione suggested to the contrary. No matter what people said about him not being necessary, Harry knew he was. He and Neville were the closest surrogates to Dumbledore that they had, the closest thing to unwavering protection that even the opposition would be afraid of. If he was no longer in the picture, then they would get bolder, and plan more attacks, and that never turned out well. “I know what I can and can’t do, Hermione.” And he could do this. He could do it, because he had to do it. His sister-in-law continued by saying that sharing what happened could be therapeutic, and he shook his head. “I did share it with someone, but then she got her memories wiped.” Harry wasn’t going to put Ginny through all of that trauma again.

“Well, since she is your niece and all, how about you send her an owl instead of asking me about how she is?” Harry shot back. Hermione had complained about having to convey messages between him and Ron when they had argued when they were young, and it wasn’t like Anna never answered letters – in fact, she was quite prompt about making sure that he always knew what she was thinking and when she was available. If he had time to write their niece, Hermione certainly did.

@hermionejean

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Hermione sighed; she wasn’t sure what was going on with Harry now a days, but had a strong feeling there was a lot more to it than just the tournament. Still, there was no point in staying and listening to him regress back to sounding and acting like a teenager. She stood up and walked the glass over to the sink, washing it out before setting it down on the counter. She turned back around to face him. “I’m not sure you can Harry,” she said, trying to sound as gentle as possible. “You’re clearly going through a lot right now; maybe you need to seek out someone who is not related to you by marriage or by blood to talk to,” she suggested. She had received an owl from Albus recently, and could tell from its’ contents that Al and Harry were not on the best of terms. It was a lot for her friend to handle, and the strain was starting to show.


Her eyes narrowed at his retort. “I was just asking since I know she was turning to you for being a former champion. And, if you remember, I was promoted to Senior Undersecretary to alleviate some of the stress Victoire was under. So excuse me if I’m trying to keep our eldest niece from going crazy and ask after my other niece who I know would have contacted you,” she said waspishly. She picked up her cloak and tossed it on her shoulders. “I will see you at the task tomorrow,” she said shortly, and stepped out of the door and back into the night.

END HERMIONE