Whispers in the Shadows

Olivia Middleton's POV

Ron, Hermione, and I are walking back to our common room, our faces full of worry—well, everyone except Ron. He looks rigid and angry, his jaw clenched. "What the hell was he thinking?" Ron mutters, rage seeping into his voice.

"What!? Do you really think he put his name in there, Ronald?" Hermione snaps, her worry evident. We stop in our tracks when Ron says, "Yeah, how did it come out then?"

"You are so stupid to think he would do that," Hermione says, pulling on my arm, leading us toward the common room. "You go, I'll talk to Harry," I say, as I take a seat on the couch. It's after curfew, and Harry still hasn't returned. The common room is quiet, the usual noise of students gone. It's just me, reading and waiting.

I'm so engrossed in my book that I don't hear Harry slip in from the boys' dormitory. He catches me off guard. "Do you ever stop reading?" he asks, his ankle resting on his knee. I jump slightly, startled. "Blimey, Harry! I didn't see you come in. And when did you get back? You're not in your robes."

"Yeah, about fifteen minutes ago," he chuckles lightly. "Harry..." I start to say, but he cuts me off. "No, I didn't put my name in, Liv!" he exclaims, his voice harsh. "Sorry," he adds quickly, realizing his tone. I nod, brushing it off.

"Do you have any idea how it might've gotten in the Goblet?" I ask, scooting closer to him. He shakes his head. "Don't you think Dumbledore would get you out of it? I mean—" I place a hand gently on his. "Tried it already. Mr. Crouch said it's a binding magical contract. I have to do it." He stares into the fire, his eyes distant.

Ron comes down and mumbles something before sitting beside me. "What?" I ask, looking at him. "Did he tell you how he did it?" Ron asks back, his voice low. "Did what, Ron?" Harry snaps back. "Never mind, might've let your best friend know though," Ron says, rolling his eyes.

"Let you know what?" Harry asks, now sitting properly on the couch, elbows on his knees. "You know bloody well what," Ron says, his voice sharp. I'm squeezed between the two of them. The tension is thick. "I didn't ask for this to happen, Ron. You're being stupid," Harry says, standing up suddenly.

"Yeah, that's me. Harry Potter's stupid friend," Ron retorts, standing to match Harry's height. "I didn't put my name in that damn cup!" Harry yells. I've never seen him this angry. I quickly mutter a muting spell to keep it from escalating further. The boys are neck and neck now.

"Yeah, says the one who craves eternal glory," Ron snaps back.

Before Harry can say something he'll regret, I step in between them, facing Harry.

"Harry, look at me. Look," I say softly, meeting his eyes. "Go to your dorm. I'll talk to him. Just please, leave, before this gets out of hand." He grabs my hand roughly, shoving it down. He shoots a glare at Ron and storms out of the common room. I know he's angry, and I also know he'd never treat me like that normally. It hurts to see him so upset.

"Ronald, how could you be rude to your best friend like that?" I say, turning to face him. "At times like these, he needs us."

"What? You really believe he didn't put his name in? How gullible are you? Or are you so blinded by your affection for him? Or are you too busy snogging with Cedric or Rafael to see through his act!" Ron shoots at me, his words like daggers.

I'm furious now. How can he talk to me like that? I'm trying to help both of them, but he's being an absolute ass. My eyes well up with tears, and before Ron can say anything else, I run out of the common room, my book still in my hand.

I make my way to the Astronomy Tower, the one place I can clear my head. I sit by the railing with my feet dangling over the balcony, trying to lose myself in my book. The only two things that calm me down—sky and books.

I'm so absorbed in my reading that I don't notice the footsteps until someone sits beside me. I look up to see Rafael.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, closing my book and looking at him. He shrugs. "What are you doing here?" I wave my book in front of him, and he chuckles lightly, making me smile a little. "Your common room would be nice enough for you to read in there," he says, his gaze on the stars.

"I just... I had to get out of there," I reply, my eyes following his to the sky. "Why?" he asks, his eyes on me now.

"Erm, Harry and Ron being dicks, just the usual," I say, trying to sound casual. But I can't hold it in and burst out laughing. Rafael joins me, and we both take a minute to catch our breath. At some point, we're sitting pretty close, and he looks at my lips for a moment, before meeting my gaze again.

"So, Middleton, any boyfriends?" he asks, pulling me out of my thoughts. I realize what he's referring to—the situation with me and Dean. I look back at the sky, while Rafael takes my book from my hands. "No, just your good old single Olivia Middleton," I say, sighing.

"So that day—" he starts. "Was a way of the twins messing with you," I say, cutting him off. "Messed me up pretty good," he says, glancing at me as he flips through the pages of my book. "You can keep it, the book. I'm almost done reading," I say as he closes it, standing and offering me a hand.

"Thank you. And please, the Ravenclaw Tower has the best view," he says as we head out of the tower. He goes to his common room, and I make my way back to mine.

I'm about to walk up the stairs when I hear footsteps behind me. Cold hands suddenly land on my shoulder, making me freeze. My heart skips a beat. It's late, and I'm out of bed—if it's a teacher, I'm definitely going to get detention or lose points for Gryffindor. Slowly, I turn around, anxiety twisting in my stomach.

"Ced, you scared me," I say, letting out a breath of relief when I see it's him. "What are you doing out here at this hour?" he asks, placing another hand on my shoulder. "I was reading—" "In the Astronomy Tower?" he interrupts, finishing my sentence. I smile a little.

Boy, does he know me well.

"If you were reading, then where's your book?" he asks, looking around like it might be lying around somewhere. "Rafael was with me. He took it," I say, watching as his eyebrows shoot up. "No, nothing like that," I quickly add, realizing how that sounds. "I was alone, and then he arrived. I was done reading, so I let him borrow it."

Cedric raises an eyebrow, but I can tell he's not bothered by it. He lets his hands fall to my waist, still giving me that teasing look. "Yeah, yeah, right," he says, sounding skeptical.

I roll my eyes at him, deciding I've had enough of this conversation. "Now, I know you won't report me for sneaking around, so I'm going to bed. Good night, Cedric." I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek before turning to head back up the stairs.

The next morning, I wake up late. This never happens. I'm usually punctual, always in control. But today? I'm scrambling. I've missed breakfast and have to dash to Potions class, completely out of breath and feeling like I've already messed up.

I burst through the classroom door, and of course, every single pair of eyes snaps to me.

"Miss Middleton," Snape's voice is cold, as usual. "How nice of you to finally join us. Quickly now, no dramatic entrance. Take a seat." I stare at him, surprised that he hasn't docked Gryffindor points. A minor miracle, I guess. I sit next to Hermione and lean in, whispering, "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I did," she whispers back, "but you went back to sleep."

"Now, we're going to make Skele-Gro," Snape says, his voice almost as monotonous as ever. "The instructions are in your book on page 267. The partners are as follows." The names appear on the blackboard.

Harry Potter and Vincent Crabbe. Hermione Granger and Gregory Goyle. Ronald Weasley and Pansy Parkinson. Olivia Middleton and Draco Malfoy.

I roll my eyes. Typical. I grab my book and march over to Draco's desk, where he's already smirking at me. "You know," I start, dropping my book on his desk and flipping to the right page, "it would be polite if you had walked over to my desk, being a gentleman."

He smirks wider. "You know I don't do gentle," he replies.

I roll my eyes again.

"There's a shortage of Skele-Gro in the Hospital Wing," he continues, settling into his usual tone of authority. "Madam Pomfrey asked me to brew it, and now I'm asking you. Let me remind you that she won't accept sub-par potions. This doesn't mean you don't have to write it as an assignment. You'll be graded as partners. Begin."

I can already feel the groans of the other students around us. "Alright, do you want to do the practical work or the theory?" I ask, glancing up at him. "Anything's fine, darling, as long as it's with you," he says, leaning in a little too close for comfort and placing his hand on my thigh.

Before I even register it, my hand is already slapping his off. "Fine," I say, narrowing my eyes. "I'll gather the ingredients, and you can start writing." I can feel his eyes on me as I walk away to get the ingredients. As expected, I hear a soft chuckle.

When I reach the ingredients table, Dean appears, coming toward me. But before he can get close, Draco's already there, standing between us.

"Changed my mind," he says, his tone mocking. "I'll do the practical work."

I come back to the desk and start with the assignment. We finish up the potion before anyone else, handing it to Snape. He inspects it, looking from Draco to me, then nods. We return to our seats, and I sit in silence, the quiet weight of the room pressing down on me. Draco, however, can't seem to stop snickering and making comments about how Harry will do in the tournament. The words sting, but I don't say anything. Neither of the boys has apologized for their behavior towards me, so I keep my mouth shut.

"Dismissed," Snape yells, and I gather my books, getting ready to leave. But just as I reach the door, Snape calls out, "Mr. Malfoy and Miss Middleton, stay back." I sigh and put my books down, giving Hermione a quick nod. The class empties out, and I'm left standing there, dreading whatever is coming.

"Yes, Professor?" I ask, turning to face Snape. Draco is still lounging in his seat, legs up on the table, hands behind his head as he whistles nonchalantly. "From everyone's potion today, yours was perfect," Snape says, his eyes flicking between us. "So, I'd like you two to brew this in more quantity and deliver it to Madam Pomfrey. But run it by me first. I know that Mr. Malfoy here didn't contribute much, so as punishment, he'll be helping you."

Before I can protest or point out that Draco is the one who brewed it, he cuts me off. "Yes, Professor. Will do," Draco says, not even bothering to look at me. Snape nods, and we both leave the classroom.

What? I don't want to spend more time with him.

"Why did you do that?" I ask as we walk down the corridor toward our next class. "What? I didn't do anything. Didn't you hear Snape? You brewed it. Now I'll tell you when we're going to brew it," Draco replies, as he heads to Herbology. I'm on my way to Charms.

I can't sleep that night. My mind keeps running in circles. I grab a new book and head to the common room, hoping to distract myself. I end up lying on the couch, the book still in my hands as I drift in and out of sleep. That's when I hear Harry enter. I don't move, and he takes a seat in an armchair.

"What are you doing up?" he asks, his voice quiet. "Reading," I say, in a duh-tone, not even bothering to look up. "Alright, Sirius is coming here to talk to me," he says, flipping through The Daily Prophet. "Here? Isn't that too risky?" I ask, setting the book down on my stomach. He nods.

"Great interview," I mock, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, frigging great," he mutters, crumpling the paper and tossing it into the fire. We both chuckle until the fire coughs, and then we see Sirius' face flickering in the flames. I roll over on my stomach, pretending to still be half-asleep on the couch.

"Sirius? How..." Harry starts to ask, but Sirius cuts him off. "I don't have much time, so let me ask you straight," Sirius says, his tone urgent. "Harry, did you or did you not put your name in the Goblet?"

"Not!" Harry yells, but Sirius shushes him, cutting through the tension. "Now, about the dream," Sirius continues. "You saw Wormtail, Voldemort, Olivia, the snake... and you mentioned someone else. Who was it?" I watch Harry closely as he kneels in front of the fire, looking troubled.

"I don't know," Harry says softly, almost in a whisper. "You didn't hear a name?" Sirius presses. "No," Harry answers, his voice tight. "Voldemort is giving him some sort of job to do—something important. He wanted me..." Harry swallows hard. "But it's only a dream, right?" he asks, his voice faltering.

"Yes, it's just a dream," Sirius says, but I hear the doubt in his tone.

Footsteps approach suddenly, and we all freeze. No one can know Sirius is here.

"Look, Harry," Sirius continues quickly, "The Death Eaters, your name rising from the Goblet, that's no coincidence. Hogwarts isn't safe anymore. The devils are inside the walls. Igor Karkaroff? He was a Death Eater. And no one, no one, stops being a Death Eater. People die in this tournament."

"I'm not ready for this, Sirius," Harry says, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm afraid you don't have a choice now," Sirius responds, his voice heavy. "Someone's coming," Harry says, standing up quickly. "Keep your friends close, Harry. Oh, and Olivia," Sirius adds, turning his gaze toward me through the flames. "Please keep an eye on him, for me, will you, sweetheart?"

"Will do, Mr. Black," I reply, my voice steady, though my stomach churns.

Ron walks through the door just as Sirius' face fades from the fire. "Who were you talking to?" Ron asks, eyes narrowed. "Who says I was talking to anyone?" Harry shoots back, his tone defensive. "I heard voices," Ron says, looking between us. I stand up from the couch.

"Our voices?" I ask, and Ron shrugs.

"Now, I'm leaving," I announce, shaking my head. "Last time I was in between you two, you both were impossible. Goodbye."

I head up the stairs, ignoring their calls, probably trying to apologize. But I can't focus on that right now. Sirius' words keep echoing in my mind. 

People die in this tournament.