Enjoy! Remember, the Potter and Pals forum always has updates to this story before any other website!

For the disclaimer, see chapter 1

Chapter 3: The Alliance

It's getting really dark by the time we reach a clearing with quite a few uprooted trees. I briefly wonder what could have uprooted them; [i]maybe a giant[/i] flashes through my mind but I quickly dismiss it- there have never been giants in this forest. We circle the clearing before entering, using the trees as cover, just to make sure nothing else has already claimed the place. It's safe though, so we make our camp beneath the roots of the biggest tree. The roots are covered in weeds, making it a great shelter for about three people. The oldest boy quickly makes a smokeless fire (he's the only one with a wand, so it must have been him who got rid of the spiders) and we warm ourselves on it.

"So," the younger boy starts, "What's your name?"

For a fleeting moment I want to lie, but that seems very dishonest to them and it doesn't really seem useful, so I decide to just tell them the truth. "Cypress Moran, but everyone calls me Ress. I'm the the male first-year Ravenclaw tribute."

He nods and says "Nice to meet you, Ress. I'm Jean-Pierre Weasley, but just call me JP. Jean-Pierre sounds too fancy. I'm also in Ravenclaw, third year. I've known these three my whole life."

The girl who helped me get up at the spiders took this as her cue to introduce herself as well. "I'm Rosie Potter, seventh-year Slytherin," she must've seen the look on my face as she added "Yeah, that[ Potter family. The Minister for Magic William Potter's my granddad, which makes Harry Potter my great-great-grandfather. Apparently I look like him. Something with the hair and eyes, I guess."

"I've seen pictures," the oldest boy said "It's scary how much they look alike, really. Rosie's just the female version of him. She's got the same wand, too, though it doesn't do her much good right now of course." He paused for a moment. "Oh I'm Romulus Lupin by the way. Seventh-year Ravenclaw. Apparently one of my ancestors was a werewolf; it's given me some crazy genes allowing me to run as quick as a werewolf. And making me quite a bit more hairy than most boys my ages, but there's plenty of magic against that so I don't mind it much."

"Keeps you warm as well. Hi, I'm Morgana Weasly, JP's cousin," the younger girl spoke for the first time, "Gryffindor, just like pretty much all of my ancestors. Fifth-year."

I shook hands with each of them as they introduced themselves.

Just as I wanted to ask them something that had been on my mind ever since I met them, the Triwizard Tournament anthem played. We all looked up at the sky above our clearing. Nine cannon shots had sounded while we were looking for shelter.

The first name to appear made me feel a bit uncomfortable; it was the first-year Ravenclaw girl, Patty Lurset. Which means I'm the only first-year Ravenclaw left.

She's followed by the first-year male Gryffindor, Murat Bashir; the two first-year Hufflepuffs Cedar Figgan and Bonnie Bones; the third-year female Slytherin and male Hufflepuff Galea Urquhart and Lennart Hocking. Then three fifth years; the male Ravenclaw Alex Jones, the female Slytherin Lillian Croose and the female Hufflepuff Shannah Mackenzie.

We all sat in silence for a few moments until Romulus suggested we roast the rabbits he'd snagged on our way here. We don't speak much during the meager meal and when most of the rabbits are gone, we only discuss the night's watch schedule before we find a soft spot to sleep on. I'm on the second watch, so I settle on a mossy patch beneath the tree's roots.

I have trouble getting to sleep, though. I keep thinking of the tributes who have already died. Half of the first-years, two third-years, three fifth-years and not a single seventh-year. If the other seventh-years have formed an alliance as well, I doubt our little group stands much of a chance.

Speaking of our little group; I still didn't get to ask them what I wanted to. I've been wondering ever since the Acromantulas. Why did they save me? Why not save themselves the trouble of doing me in later? I don't have anything to offer them, I'm just dead weight they have to haul around and probably save at every turn.

With my thoughts still raging on, I slowly fall into a dream filled with glittering eyes, hairy bodies, long legs and startling green eyes.