I do not own Harry Potter or any of its character or settings. I am going to be using Howarts, and the idea of the Triwizard Tournament and everything, but the characters are of my own creation.

Prologue

"We're back," she whispered, tears streaming down her eyes, "back to the beginning, where everything started," she said softly, in a crackling voice. A small grin erupt from her face beneath the valley of tears as she looked up at the man standing beside her.

He smiled at her, gripping her hand tighter as several large tears dripped down his own face, and onto his golden, tanned hands.

The stood in the middle of a thin strip of walkway, between a garden of beautifully, bright, blooming flowers that blossomed on either sides of them.

In front of the couple was a large, marble rock, with an engraving on it that brought more tears to the woman and man's eyes.

"It's already been seven years, but it still feels like yesterday," the man said, the memory appearing fresh in his mind.

The girl beside him buried her face into his arm, the tears falling on top of his shirt.

The man pulled her into a tight, warm embrace as she continued to release hot, moist tears onto his chest.

Finally, after a long while, she finally gained control and spun around to face the marble stone again. The tears ceased coming. It's exactly been seven years ago," she said, wrapping herself in the man's arm. "This is where we all first met. Where fate began to take control," she reminded, her voice slow and sad. The man remained silent. "Do you remember? It was the year when the Triwizard Tournament came to Hogwarts, and people had to compete against one another," she smiled, as the memories came rushing through her head. "Who would've thought, you know, that we'd be linked together, in the most extraordinary way. That we'd get to know each other soon, sooner than we'd all expect." Her voice began to get thick and slick as she was soon enraptured in her own authorish tone that began to unweave the tale of one year ago.

The tears stopped dripping down the man's face too, for he too was slowly being sucked into the memory that burned fresh in his mind.

Seven years ago

Field of Flowers

The light from the gleaming gold sun shone over the field of pastel colored flowers like a picture right out of one of Tomas Kinkade's paintings. Except, instead of a glorious Victorian house, there was a pathway. A thin, narrow, cement pathway that had been laid down right in the middle of the flowers, separating the field into two separate places. And, far far down, at the end of the pathway, where the flowers ended, there was a run down, white church, with one of those big, giant, golden bells on top, except this one had a big chunk missing from it, like somebody had decided to take out a huge nail and hammer to crack out a fat piece of it.

The setting was mesmerizing. To everybody.

This place looked as if it were isolated from the rest of the normal, well-functioning world. It looked like it had frozen. Like somebody had cast a spell to stop time in it, because, even in the cold, blistering winter, the flowers looked bored, untouched by the frost, its petals still blooming beautifully.

And anybody who happened to pass by this road, no matter how rushed they felt, would feel compelled to stop and stare at the flowers and its broken church for a moment or two before leaving. And if anybody were to be gazing upon the flowers now, it would seem undisturbed to them, completely peaceful. But if they were to study the image a second longer, they would have noticed that the peace of the scenery had been disturbed upon by seven intruding teenagers. None of the four parties realizing that the other three were among them, for they were too widely spread about the immense garden to notice one another.

At the beginning of the pathway, close to the main road, there were two girls, both of whom had long, silky blond hair spilling down their backs, a fashionable hat perching on top of their heads, and genuine Louie Vuitton sunglasses smacked over their eyes. And, though the two girls hated to admit it, some of the muggle inventions were rather quite useful. Especially when wizarding laws strictly stated that students not of age, were not allowed to perform magic outside of school. What a bore, they had thought, what was the point of being witches and wizards if they couldn't perform magic till their seventeenth Birthday? They sighed, picking at the pastel purple and yellow flowers that surrounded them.

"You're turning seventeen soon Caterina. Only two more months right? Little 'fore school should start," the younger of the two girls stated bitterly. She chose to stare at the heads of the flowers she was ripping out rather than at her older cousin who sat beside her.

"Oh please Bella! Don't start that again! You'll be turning seventeen in another two years. It'll be your turn soon enough!" said Caterina, an evitable annoyance rang through her tone, confirming the face that they had been through this conversation numerous times before.

Bella pouted, her cheeks sticking out. She ripped out some more beautiful flowers, "Yes, but not 'fore the Triwizard Tournament. You'll be able to enter," she said, unable to stop herself from adding the last part.

Caterina groaned, repositioning her hat into a more comfortable position, "You act like I'll be picked for sure. And who knows? I might not even enter."

Bella snorted and muttered, "I doubt that."

They both knew it was true. The silent grumble continued between the two cousins.

Somewhere, far away, at the forest that bordered the left side of the garden, a boy jumped out, looking almost as if the trees had spitted him out. He had jet black hair and tan skin, and a white T-shirt on. A few seconds later, another boy popped out, right behind him, as if by magic. The second boy had short brown hair and swirls of gray eyes

He turned and looked sternly at the first boy. "Jesse, just because we can both Disapparate now, doesn't mean we have to do it every two feet," remarked the boy. He brushed off the leaves that had fallen on top of his red T-shirt and jeans.

"What? Perry! You can't tell me it's not exhilarating! It's exciting! It's fascinating! It's... It's..." the excited boy named Jesse paused for a second, thinking of another word that could describe the sensation of disappearing and reappearing in a completely different spot. Before he could come up with another word, however, the boy named Perry had continued it for him, "it's nauseating after awhile."

"Yes! Yes!" ranted Jesse. "Ex— Wait a minute. No it's not." He stopped to think. "And plus, we won't be at liberty to do something like this for another nine months, once school starts," he reminded.

"Yes," Perry agreed. "But after that, I'll be stuck having to watch you do it for the rest of my life. And to me, personally, it's uncomfortable Disapparating. So please, give me a rest already."

Jesse's shoulders dropped dramatically, unable to think of anything else to say. Perry was too serious sometimes. He spoiled the fun.

"Anyways, onto another subject matter," began Jesse, striding carelessly across the field of flowers, his hands wrapped comfortably behind his head, "You reckon the students at Hogwarts and Beaubaxton are going to be hard to beat?" Once again Jesse had switched the topic to the Triwizard Tournament. He seemed obsessed with the thing nowadays. The fact that after four hundred years the Triwizard Tournament was finally coming back probably also contributed to the obsession.

"Why?" asked Perry, striding close behind him.

"Well, it's only natural that I'm curious about my potential opponents before I actually go up against them."

"You make it sound like you'll be selected for sure."

"That's because I am." Jesse stopped and turned around to look at Perry. "And so are you. So don't forget to enter."

Perry snorted, staring at his childhood friend. He never understood where Jesse got all the confidence from, especially about such an impossible notion.

"Jesse, case you forgot, only one student from each school is chosen. So if you're so sure you'll get picked, I won't," he reminded.

Jesse stared at him blankly. "We'll get picked. I'm sure of it man." And with that he turned back around, striding carelessly among the field of flowers once again.

After a long while, Perry finally spoke, "Where are we going again?" he asked, wondering why he was letting Jesse take the lead.

"Don't know man. My guts just telling me to go this way, and I trust my gut," informed Jesse.

Perry groaned. Not Jesse gut again! They'll end up lost or in trouble before long. He just knew it.

The sounds of birds chirping came from somewhere not too far from them. It came from the church, where the many birds had decided to build their nests. And at the front door of the church was a boy, with midnight brown hair and a black T-shirt on. He rested his hand on the door, his fingers scraping the peeling white pain. His uncle had told him to visit the place, told him that he would like it because it was so quiet and peaceful, especially compared to the everyday ruckus at his uncle's home.

"Christian boy, I know you must be getting restless here. You're not used to the rowdiness and liveliness in this house yet, and the fact that you're going to be going back to school so soon won't help matters either, but here. About twenty miles from here, next to the main road, remember that field of flowers that we had driven across the other day, when I picked you up? The one where we stopped by for a couple of seconds to look at? Well, why don't you Disapparate there? Find some peace and quiet for a couple of hours there. Bring a book or something," his uncle had insisted, patting him on the back before running back inside the house to the sounds of his screaming children.

Christian fingered the rusty doorknob, debating whether or not he should go inside. Finally, after a long while, he opened the door. He coughed, turning his face away as mounds of dust fought to get outside, to the open air. When it finally seemed safe enough to turn back around, he looked at the room. It was old, dusty, and moldy. The floor creaked with every step he took. Just like the porch outside. On the other side of the room was a glass wall, with light shining through it, with flowers and trees growing beside it. In front of him, next to the window, was a piano.

An old, dusty, white piano. Christian walked to the piano, brushing off some of the dust with his hand. He lifted the top of the piano off and pulled out the longest stick from inside to hold the top up. There was a dead, gray mice inside the piano. It smelled bad, like it had been sitting there for weeks, trying to find its way out. Christian brushed off some of the dust on the piano seat before sitting down. The floor creaked so loudly when he sat that he wondered if the floor would collapse beneath him, but it stayed stable. He opened the lid of the piano, revealing a row of ivory keys. And some black ones. He fingered a note. It was horribly out of tune. He pulled out a wand from his back pocket and muttered something before stuffing the wand back into his pants. He fingered the same note again. This time, a crisp clean note came out. With both hands on the keys, he began to play a tune. A beautiful mesmerizing tune, fit for the world he was currently in.

Far away, sitting next to a lake in the right forest, were two girls with charcoal colored hair and blue eyes.

"Cassy, what if I get housed in Slytherin?" asked the younger sister once more, for the upteenth time that day. She picked up another yellow and blue flower that grew even in the forest, but did not continue threading it onto her crown.

The older sister, named Cassidy, was lying casually on top of the bed of flowers and replied, "Now listen Leigha. Not all Slytherin people are bad. I mean, look at Christian, he's an absolutely great person and he's in Slytherin. So stop fretting," assured Cassy. She breathed in the scent of flowers and smiled. This was the first time she could sit among flowers and not have her irritating allergies appear. She wondered why.

"But Christian is a complete exception! Nobody's going to be able to beat him!" cried Leigha. "And the other Slytherins though! Remember when you used to write letters to me every week to tell me how horrible those kids were? I had half a mind and almost and went to tell Ma!" her sister exclaimed.

Cassy stiffened. "But you didn't, right?"

"No," her sister finally answered after a long while, continuing to weave her crown of flowers for her sister, since she already had a pink and yellow one on her own head.

Cassy let out a relieved sigh at Leigha's response.

They both knew that if their mom had found out, than neither of them would be going to Hogwarts. Their mom had a tendency to make a big deal out of small things, and it quite annoyed the both of them a lot at times. Their mother was a muggle, and so was their dad, but he had died a long time ago from a muggle disease. When Cassy had first gotten her letter four years to attend Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her and her sister had been so excited, but her mother had thought that it was a hoax, and had promptly sent the letter to the shredder. Funny enough, the paper had refused to be torn to pieces. And by the next week, a thin black haired man with a big, fat mustache and beard had came to prove that Hogwarts did, indeed, exist. Her mother hadn't quite like the man, nor trusted him, but after constant begging, and coaxing letters from the school about safety, their mom finally let Cassy Go. (Though she had threatened to make her come back home every year). This year, her sister Leigha had also gotten a letter. And since, had been fretting non-stop.

"Listen Leigha," Cassy finally said after a long while. "I just had the wrong impression of them at first, but that I know them, (or Christian at least), they're great!" Well some of them at least, she mentally added to herself.

"Yeah right. I bet—"

Cassy cut her off, suddenly jumping up into a sitting position. "Do you hear that?" she asked.

"Hear what?" she responded sourly, angry that her sister had interrupted her.

"The music!" her sister whispered. Leigha listened closely and finally heard it too.

"It... sounds like a piano."

"Come on! Let's find it," her sister said excitedly, she jumped up from the bed of flowers and brushed off the stray petals that stuck to her blue T-shirt and jeans. Her sister got up too, her flower printed skirt blending with the scenery. She dropped the crown on top of Cassy's head. It fitted perfectly on her head, stopping about halfway down her forehead.

"Don't we look pretty," laughed Cassy. "Now come on!" she rushed, running towards the source of the sound.

"Do you hear something?" asked Jesse as they neared the run down white church.

"Yeah," whispered Perry, listening intently to the the enchanting melody.

"Let's go," said Jesse, and the two of them sprinted towards the sound.

"I hear something pretty," comment Bella, her blue eyes traveling towards the run down church.

"Me too."

The two cousins got up and began traveling towards the source of the beautiful melody.

The six of them neared towards the church, towards the sound that was bedazzling them. They were listening so intently that they didn't even notice the sound of the creaking steps coming onto the porch before and after them.

They peered inside and found a boy with midnight brown hair playing an old, white piano. His eyes were closed as he pressed his fingers down onto the keys.

"Hey!" Leigha whispered loudly, "Isn't that Christian?" she asked, recognizing the figure.

Five pair of eyes turned to look at her, four unaware that she had been there.

"Yeah, I think," started Cassy, "but I can't really—"

Suddenly a cell phone rang. The sound of the piano ended abruptly.

"Oh my god!" exclaimed Cassy. "It's mom! We're so late! She's never going to let us out again! Come on Leigha! We've got to go!" And the two sisters ran off, unaware that the people who had shared the porch with them were still staring at their backs.

Christian jumped up from his seat and to the door. He could have sworn he just saw Cassy. His eyes roamed the field, and sure enough, Cassy was there, with her sister sprinting with all her might. He was about to call her name, but he knew she was too far to hear him. What a coincidence? he thought. Suddenly, he became aware of the fact that four other people were present, and was staring at him. His eyes rested on a tall boy, almost his height with jet black hair and a wide grin.

"Hey, I'm Jesse. Just happened to be here," he greeted, smiling.

"I'm Perry."

"I'm Caterina."

"I'm Bella."

His eyes roamed from one person the next.

"My name's Christian. Christian Locket."