Lost Boys and Golden Girls

The only sensation that Harry was aware of was falling. And falling fast.

As he fell, the office and the Validator's ever grinning skull receded away from him. His field of view increased massively only to accommodate darkness, and there was a deafening rush of wind. After about five full seconds the noise stopped, and Harry slammed into the ground, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Breathing hard, he cracked one eye open, and initially he didn't recognise where he was. Stone everywhere, jagged and naturally formed. Or at least it seemed to be. He rolled over and saw his Firebolt crash into the ground on the other side of the circular arena.

His Firebolt. The same broom that had blown up when he had escaped Privet Drive.

Harry barely had time to register his confusion however, as instinct forced him to roll to the side just as the large spike of a dragon tail drove home into the rock.

Ah. The First Task of the TriWizard tournament. This gives me a chance to change things. That is, if I can survive it again.

He didn't need to have Hermione level intellect to summarise that he had fallen off his broom as a result of his future self returning to his past body, and it didn't take a lot of brain power on his behalf to figure out that without his broom, Harry had no game plan. He racked his mind for ideas.

Harry dived out of the way of a burst of flame, and tried to think of a spell that might help him. He almost apologised for the delay. Hold on there like a good fellow and I'll steal your egg the moment I'm able. Nice weather for it, eh?

Was there a benefit in summoning his broom again? Not being able to think of any more options, that's exactly what Harry did and it shot through the Horntail's legs from the other side of the arena and into his hands. Mounting it in one swift move, he kicked off from the ground, and nearly hit a wall straight away, but flew against it. He felt the sharp jagged stone scratch and tug at him.

The dragon roared furiously and snapped its jaws in an attempt to eat the flying annoyance, but found itself chained in place. It snarled in displeasure, and a swish of its tail snapped the offending object; it beat its wings violently. The pressured air from under the wings was flowing towards Harry, and it took all of his strength to stay on the broom.

Harry climbed through the air, still trying to get his bearings, and with one swift beat, the dragon launched after him.

Okay, so I'm back. That was real? No, that doesn't matter, I'm back now. So what do I do now? Gathering the Horcruxes would be a good start. Finding out what happened with Hermione and I last time would be good, too. If we're soul-whatever's like the Validator said, then why have we never been romantically involved?

As if reminding him of its presence, the dragon let out another deafening roar, and Harry felt his back heat up. He flattened himself to the broom causing him to accelerate faster.

Okay, let's worry about that later. Right now, I need to know: how do you outfly a creature that was, quite literally, born to fly?

Harry pulled back on the handle while remaining as flat to the broom as possible, allowing the Firebolt to rocket into the sky vertically. The wind flapped his unruly hair, and billowed his robe out behind him. The steady thrum of wing beats confirmed that the dragon was still following him.

Feeling daring, Harry tugged the handle a bit more until he had done a one hundred and eighty degree turn, right over the dragon, and was now shooting directly towards the ground at a frightening speed. Harry couldn't help it. He began to enjoy himself. The weightless sensation, the rushing wind, and the speed of it. He hadn't been aware of just how much he had missed flying. Perhaps if he could find a way to listen to music while flying, he could spend an entire day on a broom.

Another thought struck him. Maybe he should focus on what he was doing.

Even with that thought, Harry still let out a whoop of exhilaration as he pulled his broom back into a horizontal position. His knees skimmed some bushes, and he angled himself upwards in a way that he gained some height ever so slightly. He couldn't hear the dragon anymore, but wasn't terribly concerned with it. It must still be up in the air. There was no way it could be-

Harry screamed as the dragon reared down on him from above and gave him a mild heart attack. Recovering, he pushed himself against the broom once more and felt himself speeding back towards the arena. Angling himself slightly, he shot through the stands; curving along the wall to prevent himself from smacking into it.

Harry attempted to shift his weight on the broom to take him to the centre of the arena, but was lighter than he remembered. As such, he didn't put enough force on the broom, and it clipped the arena wall. Harry had a slight sinking feeling before he was flung from the broom at a frightening speed that caused the world to blur by, and crashed to the ground for the second time that day.

Groaning, Harry rolled over, dazed and slightly aware that he might be about to die. How was it that he managed this effortlessly when he was fourteen, but now that he had the mind of a seventeen year old he couldn't do it? He reached an arm out to push himself up, and felt it clutch something warm, hard and round. The golden egg.

No way.

He smiled to himself, and grabbed it with the other hand. Now clutching it in two hands, he stood up and lifted it over his head to the roar of the crowd.

And then the dragon hit him.

When Harry came too, it was in the hospital wing, and it was dark. Moonlight was streaming through the windows, and Harry briefly wondered why he wasn't in the medical tent, and where so many hours had gone. It had been ten o'clock in the morning just a moment ago. He shuffled backwards slightly and sat up. Upon realising his lack of a top he frowned slightly, and looked around, but saw the tattered remains on a chair. He gasped in pain as he shifted, and looked down to find the source of discomfort, only to see a large green square over his chest.

"You will never cease to amaze me, Harry Potter,"

Harry looked up, long gaps between breaths as he tried to adjust to the sudden pain in his back. "W-what?" He managed to get out.

The Validator sat on the foot of the opposite bed, dressed in its sharp blue suit and matching fedora. It's grinning visage was fixed on Harry. Despite its permanent expression, the skeleton didn't sound terribly happy.

"I told you when I sent you back, explicitly ordered you, to not die. While you may not have died this time, your idiocy caused the spike of a dragon tail to go through your back and out your chest in the most spectacular fashion. While I am under no means happy, consider me impressed. It was quite funny. Or it would have been, if you hadn't nearly destroyed us both."

Harry scowled at him. "It's your fault. I wasn't exactly in tip-top shape, what with trying to figure out everything that had just happened. It doesn't help that you sent me back when I was locked in an arena with a damn dragon."

The Validator shrugged. "Okay, so I wasn't specific. Sorry about that."

Harry's eyes nearly bulged out of his head in irritation. "If you had sent me back to a different second and I had lost focus like I did, then I could have died again, and that would have been on you."

"This is a turning point in your life," The Validator waved its hand, as if brushing Harry's arguments away. "It was imperative that you return to this point."

"Imperative?" Harry asked.

"Well," said The Validator. "Maybe not imperative, but it does help you a lot. You're going to be changing what you see as the future drastically, and this was the best point to do so from."

"Why not send me back earlier?"

"What would be the need? You've already completed those minor parts of your destiny. If I had sent you back earlier, with you knowing what happens, you could have screwed that up too. At this point in time, however, you missed something. Your soul-mate."

"Wasn't that last year? Didn't you say that? Something about the Hippogriff? I swear you said that."

"You made the connection on the Hippogriff," the skeleton stressed. "But it was this year that you were supposed to commit to the relationship."

Harry forced himself to sit up, wincing as he did so. "Yeah, I was wondering about that, actually. Why didn't that happen? If it's fate, shouldn't it have happened no-matter what I did?"

"Destiny, not fate," The Validator corrected, amusement in its voice. "I don't meddle in that fate business. It's an annoyingly imprecise subject, and frustrates me to no end. As far as I'm aware, It didn't happen previously because you re-initiated your friendship with Ronald Weasley. While you were eventually supposed to do so, it wasn't supposed to be until a week after the first task."

"How does that stop Hermione and I from getting together?" Harry frowned, pressing his hand to the green square, and hissing in pain.

"Well, what did you think that was going to do, make it better?" The skeleton sniggered. "And it stops the conversation you and your soul-mate would have which leads to you getting together."

"Why does it stop that conversation?"

"You really aren't as bright as I thought," The Validator huffed, annoyed. "Because it annoyed her that you forgave him so easily when he'd not been acting like a true friend, like she was when he turned his back on you initially. As you well know, friendship is the most important thing in her life, and she doesn't take it for granted. Though I can find it not impossible to believe your small mind could forget something like that. Anyway, when you appeared to do just that, she felt betrayed."

"I had no idea..." Harry breathed, seeing his friend in a whole new light. "That does make sense though. We're the only friends she's ever had."

"However, because of the extent of your injury, you were sent to the Hospital wing instead of the Medical tent where the matron could treat you with ease," The Validator transitioned smoothly. "And as such, you avoided that whole ordeal. Hermione only left when she was forced to by the matron. Ronald Weasley, in an unsurprising bout of stubbornness, has yet to even visit."

"But we'll still be friends, right?" Harry pressed, not wanting to lose his friend over something as trivial as jealousy. His mind told him that it was a bit more than jealousy, but he quashed those thoughts down; not willing himself to admit that Ron could be a sheep like the rest of the Wizarding world.

"I can't see the future," The Validator admitted. "It isn't as simple as you think. Time doesn't flow in a straight line like you think. Instead, it's a bit like a big...ball, of wibbly wobbly, timely wimey...stuff. There is no one set future, but an infinite amount, where different things happen at different times. There's a future where you didn't die at the Battle of Hogwarts, and went on to marry someone completely different to your soul-mate. There's a future where you become Minister of Magic, and another where you don't. Time is constantly in flux."

Harry scratched his suddenly hurting head. "I think I get it?"

"Good," the skeleton chirped, clapping its hands together. "So I just dropped in to tell you that aside from you giving me the fright of my death, everything is going as planned. As for Ronald Weasley, that friendship should reassert itself sometime in the near future. Now you need to get some rest. You're going to have two very worried witches checking on you in the morning."

The skeleton tilted his head and doffed his hat in farewell, before he faded into nothingness. Harry grunted his own goodbye, before shifting back to lay down.

He didn't have a very comfortable night.

"Harry Potter," Madam Pomfrey huffed as he allowed his eyes to drift open. "I should attach a sign to one of these beds with your name on it with how often you're in here! Never in all my years have I had to fix someone who had a hole created by a dragon tail in their back! I don't know what Albus is thinking, allowing that kind of..."

Harry dutifully tuned her rant out and looked back down at his chest. The square was still there, but a lot smaller than before. He rolled over in his bed, ignoring the pain to grab his wand.

"Tempus," He croaked. The silvery loops of numbers, reading 6:57am, lazily hung above his wand.

"No!" Madam Pomfrey shouted, interrupting herself as though he had committed sacrilege. "You are not to exert yourself in any manner! No magic. You've just had a hole the size of a dinner plate put through you, and I'll be damned if you die because of your stubbornness!"

"Damn it, woman," Harry growled, not entirely joking, his less than respectful tone a mixture of getting to know the nurse, and grumpiness from the morning after having a spike stabbed through you. "What possessed you to wake me up at this god-awful hour?"

"Burn salve," Pomfrey grinned evilly. "And potions,"

Harry gasped in horror.

An hour or so after the vile potions had been ingested and Madam Pomfrey had retired to her office (to cackle manically, no doubt), the door to the hospital wing slowly creaked open, and Hermione Granger poked her head around it.

"Hermione," Harry croaked out. It was a shock to see her, really. The last time he had properly seen her was at some point in the middle of the Battle of Hogwarts, before they were separated by the collapse that had killed him. She had changed a lot from her fourth-year self, and Harry could observe that properly now.

To start with, this Hermione currently in front of him was a much healthier weight. His Hermione had been living on rationed food for a year, and had lost a lot of vital mass. It saddened Harry to have had to look at her that way, knowing that he couldn't help her anymore than he had. He'd desperately tried to get food, but he had stolen from a shop once, and the disappointment in the older Hermione's eyes was enough to make him never do it again. That was another thing that was subtly different. This Hermione's eyes. There was something in them that just wasn't in her older self's eyes. Something she had lost.

"Hello Harry," she said timidly, rushing over to his side. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, really," Harry said as if on autopilot, taking in each detail of her face as if it was the last time he was going to see her. "Considering what happened, I mean."

"Good," Hermione said, before exploding; "Then just what the hell do you think you were doing?!"

Harry started with a jolt, and frowned, coming back to reality with her loud voice. "Erm, what you told me too?"

Hermione laughed, a horribly forced laugh, high and shrill with deliriousness as if she couldn't quite believe what he had said. "What I told you to do? I didn't tell you to be run through by a dragon!"

Harry started to shrink slightly back into the thin hospital sheets. "Sorry?" He offered, hoping his sheepish smile would placate Hermione's ire, but shouldn't have bothered. He winced as her temper increased tenfold.

"Oh, you're sorry? Harry James Potter, you have no idea what it was like to see that! A massive spike going through my best friends back... and it coming out the other side! I thought you were dead, Harry, for a week, I thought-" Hermione broke down, and started to sob.

She collapsed with a soft 'thud' by his bedside; her fists clenching the sheets tightly. Whether with anger or worry, or because she did not want to hold onto him so tightly when he was injured, Harry couldn't be sure. He awkwardly wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she gratefully leant into the crook of his neck. "I'm fine. It's okay. I'm good."

"Harry, you nearly died." Hermione cried. "I don't know what I might have done if you had."

"You're really making quite a fuss over nothing."

She tore away from his shoulder and hit him, punched him right across the jaw, pain flashing through her fist. Harry's earlier assumptions on why she was gripping the bed sheet so of tightly couldn't have been more wrong. Now he was certain it was to stop her from throttling him for his stupidity. "You are not nothing, you bloody idiot! You changed my life! You made my life better! You made me better! What do you think I'm going to do when you're gone? Do you think I'm going to be happy? I swear to Christ, if you go, I go."

"Well," he said, honestly surprised by how hysterical she was getting, "Now you're just being silly."

"I'm not being silly!" She shouted desperately, tears brimming in her eyes once again. "I-I... I just don't want you to leave me!" She sobbed, throwing herself back into Harry's arms, thoroughly confusing him. Was she mad, or was she not?

"And I never will," Harry disregarded his confusion, every alarm in his brain telling him that if he didn't comfort her right this second he would regret it. He wrapped both of his arms around her, and cradled her close. He could feel her warm breath against his chest, and her ear against his heart.

"I'm not being silly," Hermione repeated, tears leaking from her eyes. The Validator's words came back to Harry.

As you well know, friendship is the most important thing in her life, and she doesn't take it for granted.

They stayed like that for a while. Hermione, huddled as close to him as she could get, would whisper questions, and Harry would murmur answers and then they would lapse into an often comfortable silence. Harry was still trying to get used to the idea of a younger Hermione, and being back at all, not to mention just being fourteen again. He was running through all the things he could no longer do, say, or cast without outing himself as either a time-traveller or as someone out of the ordinary. Hermione was still trying to reassure herself that Harry was okay.

"I hope you don't plan on making a habit of punching my patients, Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey said when she walked back into the room. "While this particular one can warrant it sometimes, it should really only be used when necessary."

Hermione's head shot up from Harry's chest, her hair flying and her face flushing with colour. "I-I'm sorry, Madam Pomfrey! I...I mean you saw that...?"

Madam Pomfrey chuckled lightly, and viscously poked Harry in the chest with the tip of her wand. Harry gasped as he felt a burst of pain jolt through him, and the small square of colour shrunk once more. "Don't worry about it, Miss Granger. When a patient is infuriating enough, they can warrant such a course of action." She turned to Harry, a smile twitching at the corner of her lips. "As for you, Mr Potter, I still need to replace that tooth you lost. Open up."

"I lost a tooth?" Harry frowned, running his tongue over his teeth and noticing the gap. He suddenly felt very stupid for not noticing it before. How do you miss something like that?

"Yes, you did." Madam Pomfrey said amused. "I used a spell to numb the pain. 'Creciutus', Miss Granger. The incantation is 'Creciutus'." She said, as Hermione opened her mouth to ask. She shut it again, blushing; an expression she seemed to have done more today than he had ever seen her do.

"Now hold still," Madam Pomfrey ordered. "This is the tricky part..."

Very lightly, Harry ran his tongue over the cap on his broken tooth, scared he might dislodge it before it had time to set. Pomfrey inspected her handiwork and nodded. "It'll be fine."

"It feels a little big," Harry admitted, and Hermione unconsciously ran her tongue over her own two front teeth. While they may have been shrunk, that insecurity was still there. Noticing this, Harry frowned slightly.

"That's because it is. In a few weeks you'll wear it down and have it level with the rest of your teeth, and you'll forget it's even there. Don't bite anything for a few hours - you might want to avoid eating anything particularly chewy or tough - and you really ought to stop getting into life threatening situations."

Harry had the good grace to look down at his lap. "Sorry," he muttered.

"You don't have to apologise to me - I'm not the one getting beaten up by dragons." She scolded slightly, but her face was soft.

"Can I ask why you didn't just use Skele-Grow?" Hermione piped up, sitting in a chair beside Harry's bed. She gently clutched his left hand, while his right unconsciously rubbed his chest where there had been a large cavity a few hours earlier. While it was, for the most part, healed, he still felt very weak - as though his spine wouldn't quite support him. He still wasn't healed. "And why you didn't do that when he was still unconscious?"

"Skele-Grow would have grown him a whole new jaw, ripping the old one apart quite painfully," she said absently, scanning him with her wand, and casting a couple of spells every thirty seconds or so. "And I couldn't do it when he was asleep. I needed to make sure I was accurate."

Hermione let out an 'Oh' and fell back into silence.

"Thanks for doing this, Madam Pomfrey."

The woman in question sighed. "I may have my issues with Professor Dumbledore bringing dangerous beasts to the school, and I may have a problem with how you've been thrown into this tournament and how you are treated, but never mistake any of that for a problem with you, my dear."

"But I'm treated well," Harry said, not believing the words even as they came out of his mouth. It was more an instinct to avoid anyone getting into trouble.

Hermione scoffed, as did Madam Pomfrey. "You're treated like an adult," the latter said. "That's not being treated well. The fact is, no matter how much you act otherwise, you are a child and you should be treated like a child."

"You don't treat me like a child."

She smiled lightly. "Of course I do, but you seem to have this ridiculous notion that being treated like a child means to be treated with any less respect than an adult."

"Not everyone sees things the way you do." Hermione said quietly.

"And what have we always said about other people?" Harry raised an eyebrow, recalling a conversation the pair had had in second year when discussing Hermione's life before Hogwarts.

"They're idiots," Hermione couldn't help but grin.

"And your beautiful smile is back." Harry smiled smoothly, momentarily forgetting he was supposed to be fourteen. He just wanted to help her get over the insecurities of her teeth.

"You're the one who lost a tooth," Hermione grumbled lightly, though she smiled at his words.

Pomfrey snorted, and Harry looked at her.

"Nothing," she waved away his look with a wistful look in her eyes. "Just reminded me of someone that once said something very similar to a girl in this room." Her eyes started to water slightly, but she turned away and Harry couldn't be sure he'd seen it.

"So," Harry started, innocently. "When do I get out?"

Madam Pomfrey's mouth twitched, but whether it was in anger or amusement, he couldn't tell. "The Fifth of Never. You're staying here at least another week. Enjoy it, Mr. Potter. It's not like you have got school work or anything important to get back to, is it?"

Harry threw his hands up in surrender, and lay back down on the bed. Hermione looked torn between lying down with him and giving him a hug, kicking him to the gates of Hell, laughing, crying, and just simply sitting with him. She decided on the last three with a funny noise that Harry had to stifle a laugh at. He wasn't laughing at her, but the noise sounded like a bit like a gurgling tap, and he couldn't help but snigger.

The day passed quite quickly, and Harry couldn't help but keep glancing to the door to see if he could see a spec of red hair. His mood lightened when he saw some, but instead of his original red-haired friend he'd anticipated on visiting his bedside, it was in fact Fred and George who came in to see how he was doing; but they left before lunch. Hermione noticed this, and gave him a mixture of sympathy and a look he couldn't read. The Validator's words echoed back, and he made a conscious effort to stop it.

Hermione dripped ice cream on to her jumper and made a face. "Aww."

"Should have got you a bib," Harry muttered, leaning out of his bed slightly to take another look out through the Hospital Wing window. The midday sun was cold, and frost clung to the edges of the window. When he concentrated, he could see brief glimpses of movement as tiny beads of snow drifted past at frightening speed. Unusual weather, for a November day. Hermione shifted slightly, and they both looked out of the window together.

"I probably shouldn't have got an ice cream," Hermione said after a moment. "Technically, it's still winter. Why is this place even offering ice-cream comes in winter?"

"Because there are people like you who will get them presumably."

Hermione grinned cheekily, and licked the cold dessert.

"If only your parents knew," Harry chuckled. "What would they say if they knew their daughter had a secret sweet tooth?"

The wing was warm and quiet. A bored third year girl with a potions burn sat on a bed across the room, reading a magazine. Hermione finished her ice cream, and used a napkin to dab her jumper. She'd also got some on her robe, but she didn't notice that. One wipe from Harry's hand and it came right off.

"Probably something cheeky. They wouldn't be happy though." Hermione stood up, and dusted herself off. She paused. "I'm going to see if Ron wants to come up tomorrow. It's been a week since the tournament, and while we don't talk very much at the moment, I can tell he's worried."

Harry nodded, not quite sure what the right thing to say would be. He was frozen by the idea of why the pair of them hadn't got together in the first place, and wasn't positive that opening his mouth right now was the correct idea.

"Just...give him a chance," Hermione begged. "Please."

Harry nodded slightly, and Hermione gave him one final hug.

"I've got to go to class. Professor Dumbledore gave me the first half of the day off to see you, but stressed the importance of my studies enough that I wasn't allowed all day." She squeezed him tightly once more. "Think about what I said, Harry. And please get better soon."

The click of the door acted as an audible full stop.

So, I'm really back. This could be very good. Very good indeed.

One of these characters just doesn't belong here...and a scene. Ten points to those who know what I'm talking about. Like before, keep it a secret. I like infuriating people.

Special thanks once again to Yuilhan for amazing beta work.

Please leave a review, reading them makes my day.