Prologue

The Night of the Third Task, 1793 (8 months later)

If I close my eyes, I can almost see how this all happened. Each mistake, from the very beginning.

"Why?" I choked, each word ravaging my throat on its way out. "Why are you doing this?"

My friend chuckled cheekily, so lighthearted for our dark circumstances that it sent shivers involuntarily rocketing down my spine.

"Why?" he mused, casually twirled my wand between his fingers. "Why, why, why. I honestly can't believe you never figured it out. You always seemed so smart at books, but when it comes to people, your friends, emotions... you've always been so blind."

"Then help me see," I pleaded desperately, hoping to buy for enough time to think of a way out of this. "I thought... I thought we were friends! I trusted you!"

"You were the only one who thought so, then," he scoffed coldly.

A second later I heard a sharp snap and flinched involuntarily before I realized it was a branch he had crushed beneath his foot, and not my wand.

"Please, whatever you want, you can have it! You want the prize money? Take it!" I pulled myself to my feet, trying to ignore the bodies scattered bodies around us, and definitely ignoring whether they were breathing or not. If they weren't... I couldn't think about that right now. "What do you want? What drove you to this- this madness?"

I wish I could go back. Back to before all this started.

"It was you. Always you!" he laughed harshly, pressing the point of my own wand to my chest and taking a nonchalant step forward. With every step he made closer to me, I matched it with a cautious one back. "You thought you were so much better than me. By look at us now, though. I outsmarted you at every turn! I was more bold, more cunning, loyal, intelligent... You are nothing next to me!"

"It's like I don't know who you are anymore," I whispered, my anger mounting. "You were my friend! I would have died for you! I never thought I was better than you! Not once!"

His eyes pierced me like daggers. Somehow, his familiar, comforting gaze had morphed into something unrecognizable and cold over these past months while I hadn't been paying attention. How come I hadn't seen it before? Now it seemed so obvious. My own friend was going to kill me, if I gave him the chance.

"Go ahead," he offered with an obliging nod, seemingly enjoying himself. "Think back to the beginning, agonize over how you could have prevented this, the signs were all there. Admittedly, I was sloppy at times. Certainly not my best work, and yet you were still too dim to realize that it was me who put your name in the goblet, me who sabotaged you at every turn, and me who revealed who you really are to the world." He used a casual flick of his pointer finger to lift my face up so I might meet his gaze. Despite myself, I registered how warm his hands were. It was wrong. A person willing to murder his friends shouldn't remind me of the afternoons we spent lounging under the sun, and in front of a fire. "I want to see the recognition in your eyes when all the pieces fall into place, so please, remember. You tell me why I'm doing this."

If only I had been smarter. If only may name never entered the Goblet. If only I had never been chosen. None of this would have ever happened. If I close my eyes I can almost see how it all began.

1 September, 1792

The Beginning (8 Months Prior)

After what felt like a decade of waiting, the Sorting Hat finally called the name I had been waiting to hear most.

"Thomas Lovett."

My brother stumbled uncertainly forward onto the aged stool. The unnaturally green shade his face was turning suggested he was going to be sick, in my opinion, but I sincerely hoped that wasn't the case. He'd never live down the embarrassment. Or who knew, perhaps it was a sign that he would be sorted into Slytherin.

When Thomas's nervous eyes finally found me amongst the masses at the crowded Ravenclaw long table, I smiled encouragingly and gave him small thumbs up. Maybe some positive reinforcement would calm his nerves, so he wouldn't lose his lunch in front of the entire school.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the ratty old hat hollered the moment the squat professor placed it upon my little brother's head.

I groaned inwardly. I had nothing against Gryffindors, but one, one man in particular, drove me completely mad. Sure enough, as my eyes trailed Thomas on his skittish journey down to the other Gryffindors, Damon stood up to invite him to sit beside him. I didn't miss the cocky smirk he sent my way before he sat back down, nor the fact that it meant I owed him a galleon.

Of all the Houses, Thomas just had to be sorted into Gryffindor. I huffed out an annoyed breath. If there was anything in the world I didn't like, it was to lose a bet, especially when I knew Damon would rub my nose in it sooner rather than later.

Usually, students couldn't wait for the sorting ceremony to end, but I saw it come with the greatest apprehension in my heart, knowing what was to come. Eventually, however, the dreaded moment arrived in the form of a tap on the shoulder.

"I told you he'd be a Gryffindor," Damon whispered in my ear as he strode past to sit with the Hufflepuffs. "Pay up."

I followed him, plopping down beside our friend Cassius. I wasn't really mad, but to prove a point, I flung a shining gold galleon out of my pocket and into Damon's pumpkin juice.

"If you really want my money, go fish for it."

Cassius curled a sympathetic arm over my shoulder, giving me a pitying look.

"Don't be upset because Tom got into Gryffindor," he said, earnestly. "At least he'll have Damon to look out for him. It's better than a lot of first years."

"I'd trust Tom to the care of a poodle before I'd entrust him to Damon," I groused, giving Damon a wry look.

Before Damon could voice the comical indignation forming on his face, a green clad figure slid herself into the bench beside him.

"Personally, I agree with Alice," Lyra inputted, taking the galleon out of Damon's goblet and putting it in her own pocket with a sly grin. Ruffling Damon's hair, she added, "This ones head is already too full for his own good. He should actually lose a few bets every once and awhile."

Damon laughed, giving her a peck on the cheek.

"It's not my fault that she's the worst gambler ever to attend Hogwarts," he protested, spearing a few rolls into his plate. "All I know is that whenever she bets for one thing, I should do my best to bet the opposite."

"Ha. Ha." I rolled my eyes. "Statistically, I'm bound to win one day. And then you'll be sorry. You'll all be sorry."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Lyra breezed on, waving her hand dismissively. "So. We're all putting our names in, right?"

She needed not elaborate further. The Tournament had been the talk of the summer. Everyone wanted to know who would be gunning for the title of Hogwarts Champion, which, incidentally, was just about everyone. A sort of nervous energy pulsed throughout the room from speculation, but, more importantly, everyone yearned to know who the Goblet of Fire would actually choose come October.

Each tournament had what could only be considered an illegal gambling ring amongst the students to liven things up before the action actually began. Merely hours into the new school year and already the odds were stacked heavily in favor of the Head Boy and Slytherin Quidditch Captain (what an overachiever, if you asked me) Cyrus Rowan, although I had heard that apparently Damon was also a favorite to win. Better him than Cyrus, as far as I was concerned.

I hesitated. "Well, you kids have fun with that. I'll be rooting for you..."

Lyra shot me a look that suggested I had just murdered her only child right in front of her eyes.

"My ears had better be deceiving me, or so help me I will put your name in the goblet myself," Lyra threatened dramatically. "How could you not want to compete?"

"Yeah, why not?" Cassius asked, peering up from the slice of toast he was buttering to give me a quizzical look. "Even I'm going for it."

"Just not interested," I replied shortly, wanting to change the subject. The less they knew about my circumstances the better. Sighing exaggeratedly for effect, I turned to Damon and asked, "Need I even ask if you're putting your name in?"

"Nope," he said, popping the 'p.' Abruptly, his expression turned serious. "Though, Alice, I need to ask you to do one thing for me..."

Worried by his change of tone, I leaned forward. "Of course, whatever you need."

"Then please, for the love of all that is good, do not, under any circumstances, bet on me to be chosen. That's a surefire way to make me lose."

His lips split into a wide grin, letting me know he was just giving me a hard time.

"Lyra, hit him for me," I ordered grimly, nodding to Damon.

Lyra grinning like Christmas had come early, said, "My pleasure!" and swatted him upside the head before he could react.

"You know what," I decided, pointing my fork at him. "I'm gonna bet all my money on you. That'll teach you a lesson for being so rude."

He gasped in mock horror. "You wouldn't dare!"

"I would," I warned, nodding gravely.

"Now settle down, kids," Cassius cut in, taking on the demeanor of an exasperated parent.

I would have completely disregarded him, but, as luck would have it, the Headmaster chose that moment to address the elephant in the room.

"As I'm sure you are all aware, it is a long held tradition for the three great schools of wizardry to participate in a competition to breed familiarity and trust between our wizarding of communities every few years," the sallow-looking Professor Everard announced. "This is, of course, such a year."

He looked around to the many enraptured faces, seeming almost surprised to see anyone before him at all. Regaining himself, he continued.

"No doubt every one of you knows the rules, but so if you would please indulge me." He squinted, as though trying to remember the rules for himself. "The participants from our sister schools shall arrive come October, and you will have 48 hours from then forth to submit your name. There will be no exceptions. If you have the honor of being chosen, then you are both honor bound and magically bound to see the tournament to the end. With that out of the way, I bid you all good night."

The headmaster nodded absently, hobbling away.

Just then, Deputy Headmaster Walter Aragon leapt to his feet and hastily added, "Prefects, please guide the first years to their respective dormitories."

"Professor Everard is so hopeless," Lyra scoffed, rolling her dark eyes. "That man could get lost in a broom closet if Aragon wasn't constantly chasing him around. I'm surprised he even remembers the way to his office."

"But he's still a good Headmaster," Cassius protested. "And one of the most celebrated to date, not to mention his ministry work-"

"Oh put a sock in it. It was be so exhausting to be resigned to Hufflepuff niceties," Lyra cut him off, yawning pointedly.

Most others had filed out of the Great Hall, so myself, Lyra, Damon, and Cassius rose from the table and made our way to the exits. Damon headed one way with Lyra to walk her to the dungeons. Before I could turn left, in the direction of Ravenclaw Tower, I felt the equivalent of a small horse drawn carriage plowing into my gut.

I gasped, as Cassius disentangled Thomas's smaller form from my own. "Easy there, pumpkin."

Frightened eyes peered up at my from beneath thick eyelashes, brimming with unshed tears.

Oh no, I thought frantically. I'm not good with the water works.

"Hey, Tommy." I leaned down to stroke my brother's cheek. "You're a big, tough Gryffindor now. What's wrong?"

"We're not in the same House," he fretted. "I thought we were supposed to be in the same House!"

"Oh, pumpkin, that's not how that works, but at least you have Damon with you," I soothed, taking his hand and walking him out in search of the other Gryffindor first years. "And, mark my words, if he lets anything happen to you, that big, brave Gryffindor will be quaking in his boots. I promise."

I sent him what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Yup, Damon would have to answer all three of us. Your sister, me, and Lyra, too." Cassius winked, taking Thomas's other hand. "You're in good hands. And between you and me," he leaned over to whisper in Thomas's ear, "Everyone is far too afraid of your big sister's wrath to ever do anything to hurt you."

Thomas snorted. I would probably have been annoyed for Cassius's insinuations, were it not for how my brother's face lighted up as he laughed.

"There they are, Tommy," I said, pointing towards the mob of Gryffindors. "Stick close to them, and I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

He nodded, scurrying after them when I finally giving him a little push.

I gave Cassius a flat look and nudged his side playfully with my elbow.

"You're going to pay for that wrath comment later."

He chuckled, walking off towards the kitchen. Waving a casual hand behind him, he called, "I'm counting on it."

Author's Note

I know that the format of the prologue was a bit strange, but I thought it was the best way to set up the shift in the timeline from the climax of the story back to the beginning by using the protagonist's own internal monologue. The fact that I didn't include the name of the antagonist was deliberate as well, to keep everyone guessing! Anyone can be the traitor! *queue evil laughs* Of course, I know who it is, but we'll see if you guys can figure it out. Is it an old friend? A current friend? A friend she makes along the course of the story? Who knows!

Side note: I couldn't find the name name of the Headmaster for the exact date so I chose two headmasters in that century and got the Headmaster and deputy headmaster (i.e. I'm not just a lord of the rings fan lmao)