november 24th, 1994

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Miranda wakes up on this November morning filled with dread, but probably not quite as filled with dread as Harry is. Today is the first challenge of the Triwizard Tournament. Harry and Ron had been fighting for weeks, and her and Hermione were sick of it. To top it all off, last night, Harry had returned from a visit with Hagrid white as a sheet. He had only said one word, "Dragons." and then looked as if he might throw up all over the common room.

    Miranda and Hermione walk down to the Quidditch pitch, all bundled up in coats and scarves. The day is cloudy, and the gray sky overhead looks ominous, looming before them.

    "I'm going to see if I can find Harry before it starts," Hermione tells her nervously, scanning the crowds.

    "Alright," Miranda replies, I'll grab us a seat, and maybe I can get Weasley to join us." The girls split up, Miranda heading up to the stands while Hermione goes to the competition tent.

    Miranda finds a small, unoccupied space, and sets down their stuff, rubbing her shoulder from the weight of Hermione's book filled bag. She spots a flash of red hair below.

    "Hey, Ronald, you sitting with us?" Miranda shouts.

    Ron pauses for a second, and then begrudgingly hikes up the stands to where Miranda sits. "Well, fine, but just because he isn't here," he says sullenly, plunking down beside her.

    "The two of you are being so stupid," Miranda rolls her eyes, sighing.

    "Are not," Ron crosses his arms petulantly.

    Breathless, Hermione reappears, back to relay the information she got from Harry, "He's going last, apparently they all drew numbers and dragons from a bag. The challenge is to get the golden egg away from your dragon, and all you get is your wand. Apparently he chose the most vicious dragon, the     Hungarian Horntail and—" At this Ron snorts derisively.

    "Goddamnit, Ron!" Hermione bursts out suddenly, eyes flashing. She stamps her foot, "He's your goddamn best friend! Aren't you the slightest bit worried about him? Or are you that selfish that you can't possibly be concerned with anyone's feelings but your own?"

    Ron ducks his head, cowed, "Well geez, Hermione, of course I care if he bloody dies or not. I'm not a monster."

    "Well then why on earth do you insist on carrying on with your silly spat?" Hermione interrogates, a hard, blazing expression on her features.

    He sulks stubbornly, "Hermione, it's the principle of the thing."

    Hermione throws her hands up in the air, "Impossible, you two are impossible."

    "You guys!" Miranda taps them both, turning their attention away from each other. "It's starting!" Miranda exclaims, as the first competitor walks on the field.

    Each round proceeds, and it feels like the time goes by way too fast. Suddenly, it is Harry's turn and Miranda clenches the cold metal bench tightly when she sees him walk onto the pitch. He looks so small, and that dragon looks so large. She prays he'll be okay, so far each contestant has succeeded in obtaining their egg with minimal injuries.

    Her heart pounds loudly in her throat, and she takes several deep breaths to calm herself. It wasn't like her to be so anxious, especially for someone she'd only known a couple months. And yet— her palms are sweating and her pulse is racing.

    "Oh god," Hermione whispers fearfully as the dragon approaches Harry aggressively.

    "Why isn't he moving?! Why isn't he using his wand?!" Miranda asks frantically. She feels like she's suffocating.

    Finally, Harry attempts to make a move, he summons his broom and hops on, narrowly missing a stream of fire from the dragon's mouth.

    Harry tries to maneuver towards the egg, but the dragon swipes and Harry nearly falls off of his broom.

    "I can't watch," Miranda buries her face in Ron's shoulder, while Hermione does the same on the other side.

    Ron scoffs, "What a couple of girls."

    Instantly, Hermione and Miranda draw their wands and point them at Ron. "A couple of girls who could curse you into oblivion if we wanted," Miranda reminds him in a dangerously low voice.

    "We could make spiders crawl all over you, would you like that Ronald?" Hermione eyes Ron suggestively.

    "Sp-spiders?" Ron stutters out, eyes wide as he looks between his two formidable female friends.

    Miranda and Hermione burst out laughing, wiping tears from their eyes.

    "Oh, thank you, Weasley. We needed that."

    "I— I wasn't even that scared. I was just trying to distract you." Ron blusters to no avail, reddening.

    "Whatever you say," Hermione peeks at Miranda over the top of the boy's flame colored head. They start laughing again.

    "I hate you guys," Ron grumbles, sinking low in his seat.

    They all turn their eyes back toward the challenge where Harry is still flying out of the Horntail's reach. He dives down and scoops the egg up, Miranda, Hermione and even Ron, cheer loudly. But then the Horntail breaks free of its constraints and hurtles after Harry.

    Miranda gasps as the dragon knocks Harry from his broom and onto the roof of the castle. Scrambling, Harry returns to his broom, and safely reaches the ground while Hagrid and his team work to get the Horntail back under control.

    "I'm going to go see if he's alright," Miranda tells Hermione and Ron, not waiting for an answer as she races down to the field.

    She sprints right to an extremely surprised Harry Potter, and wraps him in a giant hug, not caring that Dumbledore is standing right there. Once her heartbeat has returned to a normal speed, she releases him, "Oh my god! Are you okay?"

    She's breathless and frazzled and darting in every possible direction. "You're bleeding!" Miranda notices a gash on his forehead and another beneath a tear in his robes. "Did you break anything? Oh my god—"

    "Whoa Miranda, hey," Harry placates, "I'm okay. I'm alright, don't worry." Harry attempts to calm her down, pulling her into another hug.

    Miranda pulls away and begins hitting him with her wool glove, punctuating each word with a slap of the fabric on his body, "Don't. You. Ever. Scare. Me. Like. That. Again."

    "Ow— oi! Ow—bloody hell, Miranda!" Harry whimpers reproachfully. "I just got chased by a dragon, go easy on me."

    "Promise!" she looks up at him earnestly.

    "Scout's honor," Harry holds his right hand up solemnly. "Anything to get you to stop hitting me," he jokes, slinging an arm around her. "I'll be sore for days."

    "Shut up," Miranda sticks her tongue out at him. "It didn't hurt that bad, you big baby." They both journey to the common room where the party is waiting.

    "Ouch, and now my pride, when will the torment end?" Harry mocks, clutching his heart dramatically.

    "Well, excuse me for caring," Miranda huffs.

    "You were worried about meeeee." Harry crows smugly, nudging her.

    "Was not," she retorts, willing herself not to blush.

    "Was too." Harry grins devilishly, giddy as he swings open the door to the common room, which explodes with a cacophony of celebration. Hermione is the first they see. Harry hold up his hands, "Don't hit me, Miranda already took care of that."

    Hermione shakes her head and  embraces him tightly, resting her chin on his shoulder, "Stop almost dying."

    "I'll do my best," he winks.

    Ron approaches them cautiously. Hermione and Miranda stand back, watching as the two boys make eye contact, and ready to jump in should things turn more volatile. You never know with teenage boys and testosterone, and the added factor of magic wands....

    "Well," Ron shuffles his feet.

    "Well," Harry repeats stonily.

    Ron scratches his head sheepishly, "Well—I reckon you'd have to be pretty mental to enter into this thing voluntarily."

    "Finally got that through your thick head did you?" Harry arches a dark brow.

    "Yeah, I guess so."

    "Okay, then."

    "Okay, then."

    They wait a beat before hugging tightly, clapping each other on the back. Then release each other awkwardly, clearing their throats.

    "Alright, then."

    "Yeah, good man."

    Hermione and Miranda blink at the two boys for several seconds, incredulous, and then cry out simultaneously, "Boys are so stupid!"