In Shadow and Signal (Book 2)

Harriet Potter's POV

Three days.

That's how long I had.

Three days until I stood alone in an arena with a dragon breathing death at me for sport.

It should've broken me.

But something inside had already snapped back into place.

Not peace.

Not confidence.

Just... clarity.

⸻

People still stared in the halls.

Some were bolder now - outright sneering, asking how I'd fooled the Goblet, what spell I'd used, who I'd bribed. I didn't answer. I didn't stop walking.

Even Ron was still avoiding me.

I saw him talking to Seamus near the staircase to the North Tower. He glanced over, saw me, looked away. Like I wasn't even real.

Maybe to him, I wasn't.

But I didn't have time to miss him.

I had a dragon to outfly.

-

On the second night, I snuck into the library long after curfew.

Madam Pince would've hexed me if she saw me, but I didn't care. I needed spells - ones that cooled, ones that deflected, ones that slowed. I poured through half a dozen Defense books and Transfiguration tomes, making a list in the margin of my notes.

The contract buzzed faintly under my skin the whole time.

Not urgent. Just present.

I'd grown used to the way it sat with me now. Like a second heartbeat. A shadow that never loomed - only listened.

And on some level, I knew Oliver could feel it too.

Whatever I was becoming...

He felt it happening.

⸻

The night before the Task, I didn't sleep.

I sat in the Astronomy Tower with my wand in one hand and the Portkey pendant in the other.

I didn't speak.

I didn't cry.

I just sat with the knowledge that by this time tomorrow, the fire wouldn't be metaphor.

It would be real.

And I would have to face it alone.

Except...

Not entirely alone.

Because when I closed my eyes, I could almost hear Oliver's voice in the wind:

"Don't give them the ending they expect, Emerald."