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"Yep, I'm competing." Harry muttered as he and Neville avoided the rest of the students -too many questions to bother with and Harry's nerves were already in the brink of breaking despite his nonchalant attitude- while climbing the stairs to the dormitory.
"If you want my advice…"
"I always do, Nev." Harry assured his brother matter-of-factly, earning himself an arm over his shoulders and a warm smile.
"As I was saying, if you ant my advice, enter your name in the Goblet first thing in the morning." Harry regarded his brother speculatively.
"I was; I try to appear calm but…"
"You'd rather not have every single student in the school there when you place your name in the goblet." Neville finished for his brother. "I know. What I meant was Adrian might contact your parents tonight. If he does, they'll be getting the letter first thing in the morning." Harry's eyes widened as his brother explained his point of view; James and Lily! In the greater scheme of things he had almost forgotten them.
"Well, their reaction won't be pretty." The green eyed teen stated, voicing the correct password to enter the common room. "But you're right, of course." He looked at his brother solemnly. "You will be there, right?" He asked, making Neville regard him in confusion.
"Where?"
"When I place my name in the Goblet." Harry elaborated.
"You don't even have to ask." Neville stated, looking at his brother as if he had gone crazy. "Where else would I be?"
"Thank you." Harry simply stated, mock punching his brother on the shoulder before following him up the stairs to the dormitory.
He laid in bed that night, green eyes staring at the ceiling, sleep evading him up to the wee hours of the morning. This was happening. It was finally here, the moment he had been preparing for since he heard of the Tournament. There was a moment of panic there and then, he had to admit that. There was a moment when he stopped and thought, what am I doing? What am I expecting to gain out of this? Why would I even be chosen? It wasn't the first time he questioned himself not would it be the last, Harry knew. But he also knew that he would not forgive himself if he didn't try; and that was how sleep finally found him.
He woke up the next morning, not to the sun but to his nerves, coiling at the bottom of his stomach. It was still barely dawn and he had slept only for a couple of hours, he could tell. But going back to sleep? It was impossible. So, instead of trying, he dragged himself to the bathroom, brushed his teeth and showered, dressing quickly for the day to come. By the time he had gathered his courage to write his name down on apiece of paper, Neville had woken up too. They did not speak, they barely acknowledged each other save for a smile. But the oppressing weight Harry had felt last night seated on his chest somehow abated.
The Great Hall, the green eyed wizard found out, once he reached it, was still practically empty. It would have been completely empty, considering it was a Saturday, but the situation dictated differently. There were a few scarce students seated here and there, mostly seventh year ones, that were still uncertain whether they would compete or not. Dumbledore was also there, probably to watch over the process. And Severus was there too, intent on watching his son. Harry's smile reached his eyes for the first time that morning. Severus smiled back, albeit tiredly. He didn't seem to have gotten more sleep than his son had, but he was decided. If Harry was doing this then he would be there for him, every step of the way.
Harry smiled one more time, nodded to his father and punched his brother on the shoulder once before walking towards the Goblet. He could instantly feel the Headmaster's eyes on him along with the gazes of the rest of the staff and the few students in the Hall. He put a smile on his face, held his head high and walked, his steps taking him right to the edge of the golden circle Dumbledore had placed around the goblet; the age line. He stood there, looking at the flames for a few seconds, the parchment with his name written on it in his hand. He heard the clinking of the Headmaster's boots before he saw him standing next to him.
"You know, Harry, my boy, nobody will think ill of you if you do not enter your name in the Tournament." His blue eyes shone with what he believed was understanding. Harry wondered if Dumbledore would ever understand him or the reasons why he did what he did; the Headmaster worked for what he perceived to be 'the greater good'. Harry, on his part, just wanted to live in a world where he wouldn't have to hide or fear for his life. On the surface it seemed like they strived for the same things but Harry couldn't help but wonder sometimes if it was something different that spurred each of them on.
HI GUYS IF YOU WANT READ 400 + CHAPTERS THEN VISIT
patreon.com/Benzoid