A/N: So I am going against all that I believe in by re-writing this for a third time, but I was disgusted by the errors I found.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything remotely familiar from the stories.

Chapter 1
Quidditch World Cup

Night was beginning to fade as the sun awoke from its slumber. A cool early morning breeze wisped through the open window. Tucked neatly beneath her blanket, Sophie gave an involuntary shutter. It wasn't the air that had caused her chills, but prickles of uneasiness sliding up her spine: the same feeling that had kept her tossing and turning during the night. Glancing warily around her dark room, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Still, she couldn't shake the restlessness.

After a few more minutes, Sophie grunted with frustration and pushed herself out of bed. She slipped quietly from her bedroom. Before making her way into the kitchen she pressed an ear against her father's bedroom door. The steady rumbling on the other side assured her that he was still asleep.

After pouring herself a glass of milk, she retrieved the morning's edition of Daily Prophet from the fireplace hearth. And with nothing better to do in the wee hours of the day, she settled into her father's armchair and unfolded the newspaper. It took a moment for her mind to register the bold headline staring up at her, but her body raised the alarm; her heart leapt into her throat and a quick intake of breath rocked her core.

Scenes of Terror at the Quidditch World Cup

With trembling hands, Sophie pulled the print closer to her eyes in utter disbelief as she skimmed the accompanying article. Words such as Death Eaters, Dark Mark, and dead bodies were the first to jump off the page. Those words alone were enough to send her leaping from her seat, nearly upsetting her milk glass in the process. Flinging the Prophet onto the kitchen table, she glanced at the clock that hung above the sink. It was quarter past six; her father would not be waking for at least another hour or so. She had plenty of time to sneak out.

Her heart was still racing as she slipped stealthily out the back door and crept along the side of the garage. At the back of the garden Sophie broke into a sprint, making quick work along the well-trodden path through the wood. Reaching the clearing at the end of the path, a small, white-sided cottage was tucked away across the field. Sophie tore across the grass and pounded up the porch steps; not bothering to knock, she let herself inside.

The abrupt entrance of the young girl hardly fazed the woman, whose sandy hair was still in curlers, sitting at the small kitchen table. Her tired grey eyes seemed glued on the front page of the Daily Prophet, a tea cup clutched in her hands. Without breaking the silence, Sophie slid into the chair beside her and waited. After a few tense moments, the woman reached out and rested a hand comfortingly on Sophie's wrist.

"Have you heard from them yet?" Sophie asked, her voice quivering slightly.

Shaking her head sadly, the woman replied, "Not yet." But, noticing the panic rising in the young girl's face, she added," Amos is probably just caught up in some Ministry business. This can't be easy for them to deal with, that's for certain." And though she spoke with a reassuring confidence, her eyes gave away the real concern she felt. She attempted a smile for Sophie's sake. "Come now, dear. Would you like some tea?"

A she made to stand, Sophie jumped from her seat. "Oh no, Mrs. Diggory, please, I'll fix it."

Mrs. Diggory nodded gratefully and Sophie bustled around the tiny kitchen.

For as long as Sophie could remember the Diggory's had been like a second family. Her father, Grayson Bennett, and Amos Diggory had been friends since their days at Hogwarts; the two now worked together at the Ministry of Magic in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. When Sophie was five years old, her mother, who worked as an Auror for the Ministry, was killed during a raid of a presumed Death Eater headquarters; so Sophie spent a lot of time at the Diggory's when her father was working. Now the Diggory's had a son called Cedric and he was just about the same age as Sophie. Over the years the two had grown from playmates into close friends, and as disappointing as it was when they weren't placed in the same house at Hogwarts, the two have managed to keep their friendship intact.

Now with her own cup of tea to help calm her nerves, Sophie rejoined Mrs. Diggory at the table. Trying to keep their minds at ease, the two chatted about the upcoming school year. The discussion was just coming around the classes when, from the front room, came the jostling of the doorknob. A quick glance at one another and they both agreed, the men of the house had returned.

Close on Mrs. Diggory's heels, Sophie followed her into the front room where two tall disheveled figures were dropping their bags. They didn't make it any further because Mrs. Diggory had flung herself at them, pulling both of them tightly into her chest. Looking up over his mother's shoulder, Cedric grinned; Sophie felt the tension in her muscles melt away. Besides looking completely exhausted, rumpled, and covered in dirt, they both appeared in good health; Mrs. Diggory looked the worse of the two.

"What are you doing here, Sophie?" Cedric asked, stooping to give her a hug after his mother released him.

"I couldn't sleep, and then came across the headline in the Daily Prophet," she explained. "Was it as bad as they reported?"

"It sure wasn't good," Mr. Diggory cut in. His face darkened. "I'll have a look at that Prophet though."

Mrs. Diggory led her husband into the kitchen where she had left the newspaper. Feeling slightly foolish that she had worried so much, Sophie offered to help Cedric take his belongings to his room. He threw his knapsack on the bed and then went to the bathroom to wash up.

Sophie sat down on the bed and waited for him to finish. She glanced around at the piles of books he had stacked against the far wall and then at his school trunk which was propped open with Quidditch equipment pouring over the sides – all these things indicated the approaching school year.

As her mind drifted toward her own trunk which needed to be packed, she noticed something attached to the trunk's lid. Moving in for a closer look, she saw that it was an old photograph of the two of them, standing in front of the train before their first term. They were laughing and waving. Caught up in the memory of that day, she didn't realize Cedric had finished and was now looking over her shoulder.

"Remember," he said with a laugh as she twitched with fright. "My dad wouldn't let us board without taking that photo."

Sophie nodded and grinned. "They were so proud of us, going off to Hogwarts and all. We should take another at the start of this term. We look like such babies in this photo."

"Yeah, that's not a bad idea," Cedric replied. He had moved away from the trunk and was now busy rummaging through one of the sacks they had carried into the room. Straightening, he tossed something back at her. "Here – your souvenir from the World Cup."

"Oh, Cedric, you really didn't have to," she groaned, unfolding the scarlet and black scarf. Considering it for a moment, she then wrapped it around her neck. "Well, I suppose I should know which team I'm supporting, eh?"

"Bulgaria. They have this really superb Seeker, Viktor Krum. He was absolutely amazing," Cedric said, unpacking from of his own souvenirs.

After a few minutes of sitting in silence, Sophie said quietly, "Your mum and I were really worried about you two this morning. Was there really a Dark Mark?"

Cedric plopped down beside her on the bed and nodded solemnly. "Yeah, it was really up there – hanging over the campground. People were terrified; they started screaming and running towards the wood nearby. It was chaotic. Dad made me go into the forest while he helped the Ministry deal with the rogue Death Eaters." It was obvious by the distant expression in his eye that the events were still very vivid in his mind. "I met up with some others from Hogwarts and we stuck together until everything was cleared. It felt like we were in there for ages. When things were back under control, we went back to the campsite. Our tent had been trampled, but it was the worst off; some tents had caught fire and the remains were smoldering. I packed away what I could and then helped a few families nearby."

"I'm just glad you're safe, Ced," Sophie replied.

Cedric nodded. "I felt really bad for dad though, because when he got back to the site people kept asking him questions that he couldn't answer."

"Does that mean they don't know who did it?"

"I suppose they have an idea, but they can't be certain. At least that's what all the Ministry officials kept saying."

"I'm sure they'll figure it out," Sophie added reassuringly.

Cedric smiled. "Come on. Let's go down and see if breakfast is ready."

Upon entering the kitchen, they found Mrs. Diggory sitting at the table alone. She explained that Mr. Diggory had gone into work to help with the situation they now faced.

Aside from further discussion about the events at the World Cup, breakfast was pleasant and they soon got to talking about school. Out of habit, Sophie glanced up at the clock and nearly choked on a piece of toast. It was already half past nine.

She sprang from the table. "I didn't realize the time! My dad is going to kill me – he doesn't know I'm here."

"Sophie Bennett!" Mrs. Diggory scolded as Sophie hurried out the door.

"Thanks for breakfast, Mrs. D," she called over her shoulder. "See you on the train, Ced."