HP: I got Transmigrated into the World of Magic

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"There he is!" a voice near the entrance calls.

"You should've told us you entered!" one of the Twins bellows loudly.

"How'd you do it without getting a beard?" the other asks. "Brilliant!"

"I didn't!" Harry says loudly, "I don't know how—"

I see him get swooped up into a hug by Angelina, "Oh if it couldn't be me, at least it's a Gryffindor—"

Then Katie Bell snatches him away into her own hug. "You'll be able to pay back Diggory for that last Quidditch match, Harry!"

"We've got food, Harry, come and have some—"

"But I'm not—"

I've had enough. I raise my hand in the air, palm upward, and push a small trickle upward.

BOOM! The sound of a shotgun blast reverberates around the common room, rattling my teeth.

So much for a small trickle...apparently I shouldn't do that when I'm angry. I just hope everyone else's ears are ringing as badly as mine.

"In case you didn't hear him," I say, glaring at his group of well-wishers. "He didn't put his name in the Goblet, and therefore he isn't in the mood to celebrate. Or perhaps you forgot that people die from these things?"

Harry pushes his way out of the crowd and gives me a grateful nod. I put what I hope is a comforting hand on his shoulder and follow him up to the room, leaving a gathering of whispers in my wake.

"Sorry 'bout that, Harry," I say when we're climbing the stairs.

"No," he says, shaking his head. "Thank you. You think it worked?"

I press my lips together. "Probably not. They'll forget about that little episode in a few minutes. Hermione believes you, though. She would have been there, too, but I'm pretty sure she's in her room having a bit of a cry. I sent her up before you got here, because I didn't think she was going to be able to hold it together."

He lets out a relaxed breath when I hold open the door, then I see him glance over to Ron's bed, where the redhead is lying still fully dressed, watching us enter. "Ron..."

"Oh, hello," Ron says in a distant, emotionless voice.

Oh boy, here we go.

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Harry woke up late the next morning in a bit of a funk. I had been awake when Ron took off, but I stuck around, first to read, then to work on my wood carving. I didn't look at the red head when he walked by, but I could almost feel the glare.

"Finally awake, are we?" I ask Harry with a slight smile.

He nods glumly, quickly throwing on his robes.

"Well, let's go find Hermione, then," I say, hopping off the bed.

She's not in the common room, but it's getting late in the morning, so I suggest we see if it's not too late to get some breakfast. The Creevey brothers are there looking like they want to speak to Harry, but my presence seems to make them cower. 

Damn, I hope I didn't ruin my chances of getting those photos with my shotgun blast last night. Just as we make it outside the portrait, Hermione clears the last stairwell carrying a pair of napkins full of toast.

"Hello," she says, holding up the food. "I brought you guys these. Want to go for a walk?"

"Good idea," Harry says gratefully.

"Do you guys want me to head down to breakfast, give you a chance to talk?"

"No," Harry says immediately.

Hermione bites her lip, but says nothing.

We head outside toward the lake, and Harry recaps everything that happened after he left the Gryffindor table. It includes all the details of the meeting with the other Champions, headmasters, professors, and Ministry folk that I wasn't privy to this time around. 

I had forgotten that Moody practically tells us how he got Harry's name in the Goblet. One particular item that I make sure I have right is the date of the First Task: November 24th. Then Harry chuckles when he recounts what I had done to shut everyone up.

"That was you?" Hermione asks, eyes wide. "I was wondering about that. First I thought it was an earthquake, then I thought the twins set off some fireworks or something."

"Ah, it was a bit louder than I had intended."

"I bet. Well of course I knew you hadn't entered yourself," she says, with a nervous glance towards me. "The look on your face when Dumbledore read out your name! But the question is, who did put it in? Because Moody's right, Harry...I don't think any student could have done it...they'd never be able to fool the Goblet, or get over Dumbledore's—"

"Have you seen Ron?" Harry interrupts suddenly.

She hesitates. "Erm...yes...he was at breakfast," she says.

"Does he still think I entered myself?"

"Yes, he does," I say, cutting her off. "I saw him leave this morning, grumbling and glaring."

"It's not like that," Hermione says, biting her lip. "Oh Harry, isn't it obvious? He's jealous!"

"Jealous?" Harry asks, bright green eyes blazing.

"Look, it's always you who gets all the attention, you know it is. I know it's not your fault, and I know you don't ask for it, but, well, you know he's got all those brothers to compete against at home, and you're his best friend, and you're really famous – he's always shunted to one side whenever people see you, and he puts up with it, and he never mentions it, but I suppose this is one time too many..."

"Great. Really great. Tell him from me I'll swap any time he wants. Tell him from me he's welcome to it... People gawping at my forehead everywhere I go..."

"I'm not telling him anything," Hermione says shortly. "Tell him yourself. It's the only way to sort this out."

"I'm not running around after him trying to make him grow up! Maybe he'll believe I'm not enjoying myself once I've got my neck broken, or—-"

"That's not funny. That's not funny at all."

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