Chapter Two:

Falling From High Places

"No human could ever manage a schedule like that," said James, looking over Lily's shoulder at the piece of parchment in her hand.

"We're not human," she said shortly through a mouthful of toast.

James scoffed. "Not even a witch like you could pull it off, Evans. You can't possibly take Advanced Herbology, Divination III, and Advanced Charms all in the same term. You'll die a slow, homework-induced death."

Lily shrugged. "I think there was a compliment hidden in there somewhere."

"Prongs is just worried about you," said Remus. "This is his way of showing affection under the thin guise of doubting your abilities as a student and a witch."

"Have I ever told you guys how weird it is you have those nicknames for each other?" said Lily, shifting her attention from her schedule to the front page of the morning's Daily Prophet. "And by weird, I mean cute."

"Yes—it's positively adorable," interjected Marlene. "If only they would tell us what they mean."

Lily giggled. "You know boys, with their secret boy clubs and all."

"Sorry. No girls allowed. I don't make the rules," said James, running his fingers through his black hair in a futile effort to tame it.

Sirius appeared at the table, sliding onto the bench beside Remus and taking a strawberry from his bowl. The five of them took up a space right in the middle of the long Gryffindor table. The rest of the meal was a blur of delightful normalcy. Lily tried to read the Daily Prophet while James tried to bother her, Sirius and Remus ate each other's food instead of their own, and Peter and Marlene discussed the upcoming day of classes.

The morning passed with a startling quickness. Lily's schedule was crammed, and as much as she hated to think that James might have been right, she was starting to think she might have to drop Advanced Care of Magical Creatures in order to keep up in her other classes.

At lunch, Professor McGonagall snagged Lily and James from their meal and escorted them up to Dumbledore's office for a meeting.

"There is much to discuss," said Dumbledore upon their arrival. He stood from his desk. "Please, sit down." Lily and James sat on two cushioned chairs positioned before the desk.

"Lemon drop?" offered Dumbledore, holding out a metal container.

Lily declined. James helped himself.

Dumbledore briefed them on their duties as Head Girl and Boy—including nightly patrols and emergency proceedings—then moved on to the topic of the tournament, starting with the arrival of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students on October 30th. Lily and James were also to encourage relations between Hogwarts students and students from the other schools, Dumbledore insisted.

"If I may ask," Lily said, "why would this year be a good time to host the tournament? There's a war going on, and we're inviting strangers into Hogwarts? It doesn't seem right."

Dumbledore sat back in his chair and folded his weathered hands in front of him. "Good question, Miss Evans. You see, I think this is the perfect time to showcase our alliances with other wizarding schools, don't you? It is a symbol of strength. Hogwarts is hosting the tournament because we are not afraid."

"I understand, Professor," said Lily.
"Now, off with you two. You must have studying to get to."

"Thank you, Professor," said James as they got up to leave.

"For the record," Lily said once they were out the door, "I still don't think this tournament is a good idea."

Autumn at Hogwarts passed in gusts of wind between classes, quills scratching into parchment, and laughing with friends at meals. It was, to Lily, the best time of year. When she died, she hoped that autumn at Hogwarts would be her heaven.

There was a strange calmness to the castle during those first two months of term. Lily felt like she should enjoy it, but there was always a voice in the back of her mind telling her that this peace would not last; it was the calm before the storm. So, she wished she could enjoy passing notes to Marlene in Potions and walking with James on patrols, during which they found nothing of consequence and they eventually stopped doing them altogether and gave the job to the prefects. She wished she could enjoy bickering with Sirius and laughing with Remus and studying with Peter, but there was always that feeling. This peace would be over soon. This was war, and Lily never forgot. Even when killings slowed down in the Daily Prophet, even when the air of fear in the castle corridors dissipated as students grew less worried, Lily never forgot. Because she saw it every time her eyes met Severus's across the room. There was something terrible waiting in the wings, and Lily couldn't help but fear it.

It was just another Monday. Lily had stayed up late the night before finishing up some Defense Against the Dark Arts homework, but James had done a good job distracting her. Lately, they had been growing closer simply from spending much time together. Their jabs at each other became friendly banter. (One might have even described it as flirting, but Lily didn't think about that.) They were constantly organizing prefects, overseeing the clubs and activities around the school, and assigning nightly patrols. The patrols were new; they'd come with the war. When real danger could be lurking around every corner and the security of Hogwarts was in peril, having only a single teacher roaming the halls in case a student was out of bed seemed insufficient. And so within the past five years, McGonagall and Dumbledore had enacted student-run patrols, and they had a protocol should an emergency occur. Lily and James had drawn up a strict schedule for prefects to follow, and the existence of the patrols comforted Lily to some degree. She often felt helpless to protect her friends and her school, but this was a way to take action even if it was a small act.

Her ordinary Monday changed around lunchtime, when McGonagall stopped by the Gryffindor table to remind Lily and James that the other schools would be arriving soon.

That night, the two of them rounded up the Gryffindor students and led them to the front lawns of the castle to welcome the other schools.

The entrances were quite flashy.

"Obnoxious," as James put it when Durmstrang's mighty ship rose from the glassy water of the Black Lake.

"At least the squid didn't get them," whispered Lily.

"Are you sure that would have been such a bad thing?"

She hit his arm.

"What?" he said. "You have to admit that now's not the best time to welcome outsiders into the castle. Hogwarts is supposed to be a safe haven."

She agreed. Dumbledore had said that the tournament was a symbol of strength, but she couldn't help but see it as a liability to the safety of the students. Durmstrang in particular, she had heard, was hostile toward Mudbloods. It was just a reputation spread by word of mouth, but it was enough to give Lily apprehensions.

"It's not up to us," she said to James, who was standing resolute with his hands in his pockets.

They watched as the headmistress of Beauxbatons and headmaster of Durmstrang were greeted by Dumbledore and McGonagall. It was diplomatic and contrived and enough to make Lily suspicious. She knew she had no reason to feel this way… but she had grown used to this wariness that coated her every thought like a shield. If she always suspected everyone, no one could catch her off guard the way Severus had. Never again. Never again would she let her guard down.

"You okay?" James asked.

How could he have noticed? "I'm fine."

"You look like you're about to throw up," he said.

"Just a little nervous."

To her surprise, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick hug; It was gone before she could savor his warmth.
"Don't worry too much. It'll be alright, Evans."

/

Dinner was a buzz of anticipation. The Great Hall was more crowded than ever, with more room set aside for Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students. Marlene was already ogling over the new boys joining them at the Gryffindor table, keeping her admiration in check through side-glances and excited whispers in Lily's ear, "Isn't he cute?", while Lily nodded absently.

About a half hour into the meal, when plates were mostly empty and conversation was just picking up, Lily felt a tap on her shoulder. She spun on the bench to see a willowy blond girl with brilliant blue eyes and a skirt the same shade, a white rose in her dainty fingers.

"Excuse me," the girl said with a distinctly French accent. "My name is Emilie. I was sent over to deliver a message to you."

"Hi, I'm Lily. What is it?"

"My friend, Matthias, is very shy," said the girl. "He sent me over here to tell you that he finds you very beautiful, and to give you this." She extended the white rose to Lily with a sophisticated little curtsy.

At this point, all of Lily's friends had halted their conversations to watch Lily and the girl. Shyly, Lily accepted the rose.

"He's right over there," said the Beauxbatons girl. She pointed to the Ravenclaw table, where a tall boy with brown hair, a square jaw, and an awkward smile waved at her hesitantly. She waved back.

"Thank you," Lily said to Emilie. "I'm very flattered."

With another curtsy, Emilie returned to her table.

Lily turned back to her friends. Sirius let out a low whistle. Remus was smiling to himself, while James crossed his arms and seemed put off by the whole spectacle. Peter and Marlene couldn't seem to stop laughing.

"Oh, shut up," said Lily. She felt her face grow hot.

"Got an admirer, huh, Evans?" said Sirius, a ridiculous smile on his face.

"Shut up," she repeated, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"He looks fancy," observed James with a straight face. All of them were now staring not-so-subtly at the Beauxbatons boy, who definitely noticed them.

She grew even more embarrassed. "Guys!"

Sirius shrugged and turned back to the table. "Fine, fine."

"Thank you," she said indignantly. How did she put up with her friends on a daily basis without losing her mind?

Just then, Dumbledore called them to attention.

Lily barely heard him over the roaring of her thoughts until the very last moment, when everything went suddenly quiet. Before them was the blazing Goblet of Fire, the decider of all their fates. It burned like a warning sign in her vision.

This was going to be interesting.

/

That night after the welcoming feast was had and their stomachs were hopelessly full, Lily and Sirius stayed up far too late playing Wizard's Chess.

A sixth-year—bless his soul—had somehow gotten hold of enough Firewhisky to go around, and although Lily and James should have punished him, they were more than willing to get rid of it by allowing any six and seventh year students to have some.

Now Lily, Sirius, James, Remus, Peter, and Marlene all sat by the fire in the common room, which was loud and lively. Tomorrow was Halloween so Lily thought she'd let them enjoy their party. Even if she wanted to, she probably wouldn't have been able to control them due to one little problem…

Lily was a lightweight.

"I don't get it," said Sirius with a lilting voice laced with faint hints of drunkenness. "You only had two drinks."

Lily dissolved into a fit of giggles. James laughed too. He was sitting on the arm of her chair, observing the game.

She instructed her Queen to move diagonally across the board, and then laughed in Sirius's face. "Ha!" she exclaimed. "You're losing! Who's the drunk one now?"

"You," said Marlene from where she was curled up with a book on the couch. "Still you, Lils."

"You're not winning," said Sirius, studying the board. "In fact, it looks like you won't be able to win at all."

"Oh, really?" said Lily. "Want to bet?"

Sirius took the bait. "Two galleons."

"Four," she said.

Sirius smiled suddenly, wicked and gleeful. "How about this: if I win, you have to put your name in the Goblet of Fire."

Everybody gasped. Remus dropped the quill he'd been doing homework with and got ink on the couch. Despite herself, Lily felt herself falling for the challenge.

James gripped her shoulder. "Don't do it, Lily."

That only made her want to do it more. There was something about James, something that made her want to spend the rest of her life arguing with him and winning every time. With him, she wanted to be right. It nearly drove her mad.

She held out her hand for Sirius to shake. "Fine. You have a deal. But you have to put in your name if you lose."

"Deal," he said.

They shook on it.

/

"I think I should be granted an exception," she said as Sirius, Marlene, and Peter practically pushed her down the corridor to the Great Hall the following evening before dinner. Remus and James followed behind because they were clearly not on board with the idea at all. "I was drunk," Lily pointed out. "Completely and utterly shitfaced. I was in no state to be making decisions."

"I agree," said James, but he was quieted by a louder Sirius.

"A deal's a deal," insisted Sirius. "Relax. It's just a silly bet. You won't get picked anyway. We all know it'll be one of the Ravenclaws or maybe Frank Longbottom. No offense intended, Lils, but you're not exactly Triwizard Tournament material."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she said defensively.

"You once cried when we killed a spider in the common room."

"It was innocent!"

"I rest my case."

They reached the Great Hall and stopped at the entrance. The room was full of students all gathered around the flaming goblet. The tables had been pushed aside to allow space for a line of students down the middle of the floor leading up to the goblet, each awaiting their turn to challenge fate by placing their name.

Lily clutched the piece of parchment, on which she'd written her name, tightly in her fingers. She wouldn't be nervous, and she'd die before she let Sirius or Marlene see that she was anything but calm. They led her to the line and left her at the end of it, then retreated to the side of the room by the darkened windows to sit on the Gryffindor table.

Just before he joined them, James took her shoulder and leaned close to her. Lily's breath caught in her throat.

"Good luck," he said softly. She felt the words brush against her temple.

And then Lily was left alone in the line. A Hufflepuff waited behind her and she couldn't see the goblet over the head of the burly Durmstrang student in front of her. She tried not to think about what she was about to do. It was just a bet. And like Sirius had said, there was no chance the goblet would pick her.

When she was about halfway to the front of the line, she felt someone staring at her. She turned to see Severus surrounded by his gang of Slytherins. She hoped the rest of them wouldn't notice her. The way Severus was looking at her was enough to make her skin crawl again with the same beetles that had covered her on the train. She refused to meet his gaze.

The air was suddenly stifling to her, so she pulled her red hair into a messy bun on the top of her head. She tried to breathe and focus on what was ahead of her. This was a chance she was taking, risking it all on a bet.

Deadly, she thought. Dumbledore said the tournament was deadly.

But part of her didn't regret losing Wizard's Chess last night. Part of her fantasized about the tournament. If she, a Muggle-born got chosen, wouldn't that be a good thing? And if she won, wouldn't she be revered as a powerful witch? After years of being dismissed as a Mudblood, winning would feel really good. Maybe she was simplifying things—and she knew winning would be near impossible—but if the unthinkable were to happen and the goblet chose her, she didn't think she would be entering unwillingly. No matter what she'd done to talk herself down, this was something she wanted deep in her heart—maybe not for herself, but for every witch and wizard like her who was judged for their non-magical lineage.

When it was her turn, Lily hesitated for a breath before closing her eyes and dropping the parchment with her name on it into the goblet. Cheers from Sirius, Marlene, and Peter erupted from the tables. She tried not to blush as she rejoined her friends.

Remus gave her a high-five, even though he had been heartily against this bet, and Marlene tackled her in a hug. Lily caught James's eye and he gave her a smile, though she thought she saw worry hidden in his eyes.

/

"Are you nervous?" asked Remus at dinner.

"No," Lily said. And truthfully, she wasn't. "Like Sirius said. I won't get picked anyway."

Remus only grimaced. "I hope you're right, for your sake. I did some reading on the tournament in the library—and what I found wasn't good, Lily. Four champion deaths in the past century alone."

Lily tensed, almost dropping her spoon into her stew.

James butted in on their conversation, "Hey—Moony! Cut it out. Can't you see you're scaring her?"

Remus flushed. "I'm just telling her the facts. Maybe she should have thought before she made such a reckless bet with Sirius. This tournament isn't a joke!"

"Oh, don't give me that," said James. "You've done worse while drunk."

"We agreed not to bring that up, Potter."

"Try me, Lupin."

The boys stared at each other from across the table, and Lily tried to rein in her curiosity. What could Remus have done? She knew it wasn't her business, but still.

Their bickering was a slight distraction from the question lingering at the back of her mind: who will the goblet pick?

"You doing alright?" asked Marlene.

"I don't know," said Lily. "I know it's stupid and I won't get picked, but I can't help but think—"

"Don't worry about it," Marlene interrupted. "Whatever happens is meant to be. You've done your part. Now let destiny have its fun."

"Was that supposed to be comforting?" Lily said through a mouthful of stew.

Marlene giggled. "Find comfort in the fact that you no longer have no control over the situation. And you've got broth on your chin, you idiot." She reached out to it away, but Lily got to it with a napkin before she could help.

The minutes passed by torturously slow to the point where Lily was watching Dumbledore, waiting for him to stop eating and socializing and start announcing the champions.

Finally, Dumbledore stepped up to the podium. "The Goblet of Fire is nearly ready to announce the champions for the Triwizard Tournament." That was all he had to say to throw the entire hall into a tizzy. "Silence!" The room quieted once more. "Thank you," said Dumbledore. "Remember: once the champions are chosen, there is no going back. Should the goblet choose you, you have no choice but to compete. This daunting choice is one that you hopefully already made by placing your name in the goblet. You cannot go back on it now. The three champions represent their schools in the tournament, and so they should act as so. Good sportsmanship is not only preferred; it is required of each brave champion.

"If your name is called," he continued, "then please join us in the back room, where you will receive instructions. Ah—well, it's just about time, now… any minute…"

The goblet's flame rose higher in the air, turning a violent shade of red. A sudden spike of anxiety hit Lily. She reached under the table and grabbed James's hand. To her surprise he didn't pull away, but instead looked over his shoulder (they were turned on the bench to face the goblet, so he was in front of her), and flashed her an encouraging smile. It didn't bring Lily much solace.

"The champion from Beauxbatons Academy," announced Dumbledore as the goblet spat a name from its flame, "is Xavier Bernard."

The Beauxbatons students stood up and cheered—although some, including Matthias and Emilie, were clearly disappointed—as Xavier walked around the staff table and to the adjacent room.

Already, the students were anticipating the next champion. The goblet produced another name. "From Durmstrang: Nikolai Stanev!"

Durmstrang students were quite a bit more rambunctious with their excitement than Beauxbatons had been. Nikolai even ran a victory lap around his table before running into the back room.

The goblet's flame spat and flickered.

Lily's heartbeat skipped and leaped.

A parchment, burning around the edges, shot up from the goblet. Dumbledore caught it and considered the name written upon it before smiling slightly.

Lily couldn't breathe. It isn't you, it isn't you, it isn't you…

"The Hogwarts champion is,"—the word seemed to echo for ages, no, lifetimes—

"Lily Evans."

/