Hello friends! I know it's been a while, and I'm sorry there isn't going to be a real regular posting schedule for this fic, because, well, I have a lot in my life right now. But, I'm going to keep writing and updating when I can. This fic is a bit different though, because unlike most of my others, I don't just write a chapter and immediately post it (a bad habit). I have three more chapters written as of right now, but I'm going back through and editing more before I post to ensure that I'm posting my best, most coherent work.

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Thanks again guys! :-) Enjoy!


The next morning was Saturday, and as I did almost every Saturday, I overslept. I rushed to the Prefects' bathroom for a perfumey bath and dressed quickly, to rush off to the Hall to eat whatever scraps were left. Usually everyone was pretty much done and gone.

But, today, I was shocked to walk in to find the Hall overflowing with people. On top of the excess students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, the Hall had also been decorated for Halloween - gangs of bats fluttered around near the enchanted ceiling, and carved jack-o-lanterns grinned and glowed in each nook and cranny. I realized I'd forgotten about Halloween. It probably would've slipped my mind completely if the decorations weren't there.

"Have I missed much?" I asked, finding Holly amongst some other Hufflepuffs, who were watching some Beauxbatons students put their names in the goblet.

"It depends on what you find interesting," Holly shrugged. "Those two Weasley twins from your house put their names in. Guess they took an Aging Potion, 'cause they sprouted beards to rival Dumbledore's. A bunch of the big Slytherins put their names in, too. We're waiting for Cedric. He's putting his name in, y'know."

Her brown doe eyes glistened with admiration. I supposed she still wasn't over her infatuation with Diggory. He was good looking, sure, I wasn't going to disagree there, but he was just a little too pretty for me. I liked a little bit of roughness around the edges, which Cedric Diggory certainly didn't possess.

"So I'm assuming you're going to be rooting for him, that he gets his name in?" I inquired, taking a bite out of my granny smith.

I expected her to leap off her feet in support of Diggory, but she did no such thing. Instead, she inhaled deeply, and replied, "Well, I suppose….but….well, I want to support him, but it's going to be so hard, Saoirse. What if he gets hurt or dies? I don't support that kind of recklessness, but if he wins it for Hufflepuff….that'd be brilliant, wouldn't it?"

I stared at her, realizing that I myself hadn't really considered the danger of the whole thing. I guess that was the Gryffindor in me.

"That's true," I replied. "I never thought about it that way."

"You should," Holly told me. "Your friend Angelina already put her name in."

At that moment, the Hufflepuffs erupted with joyous cries of applause, as Diggory had just dropped his name in. He was sucked back into their crowd, as they exited, cheering up a storm. With them, went Holly, leaving me alone to munch on my apple and ponder the real danger behind the Triwizard Tournament.

I decided it wasn't worth it to stand and stare into space with thought, so I found my way back to the Gryffindor common room. Angus and Angelina were on a couch by the fire. Angus seemed to be doing homework, while Angelina looked extremely preoccupied, though her Transfiguration book was open in her lap.

"Hey, congratulations, Angelina," I greeted, pulling up a plush ottoman before the two. "I heard you put your name in the goblet this morning."

"Yeah, thanks," Angelina responded distantly.

I looked to Angus for some explanation for Angelina's demeanor, to which he shrugged and said, "Love pains, Saoirse."

"Love pains?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"I wouldn't call what happened this morning love pains," Angelina retorted sharply. She looked at me playing with my wet hair, wrapping it around my fingers, and narrowed her eyes. "Do you want me to fix your hair for you? It's only going to get all knotted and nasty if you keep doing that."

"Sure," I said, tossing a scrunchie towards her. She took her position behind me, and started to French braid my shoulder-length hair. I asked her, "So, what exactly did happen this morning, Ange?"

"Oh, Fred and I had a bit of a row," Angelina informed me. "I just mentioned him looking at the French girl….I thought we had something, y'know, so I was curious as to why he'd be looking at other girls….it was stupid, really, we just went at it. But still, he shouldn't be looking at other girls like that…."

She pulled a strand of my hair particularly hard.

"Ouch, that's my hair, Angelina!" I yelped. "I thought you were braiding my hair, not scalping me!"

"Sorry," she responded lowly. Her fingers went back to their gentle rhythm, though a particular spot on my scalp still throbbed. "I got a little heated there."

"To say the least," I grumbled, thanking my lucky stars that she was finishing securing the scrunchie on the end of the braid.

With a sigh, Angelina plopped down next to Angus once again.

"I don't know," she began. "I just think I fancy him so much….it gets in my head sometimes and I acted so stupid earlier. You two get that, don't you?"

I certainly didn't. I'd never really fancied anyone before. Sure, back in our third year, Angus made me kiss him to make sure he was gay, and I'd briefly dated Adrian Pucey last year after Esther set us up, but I wasn't head over heels for either of him. Pucey was a decent snog, really, and he always paid for my meals. That was about it. I didn't get butterflies in my stomach or anything, and if he talked about an attractive girl, I could've cared less.

"Yeah, sure," Angus and I replied, nearly in unison.

Angelina sighed. She clearly didn't really believe us. She said, "Well, I'll apologize to him, then, I guess that's the best thing to do."

Right on cue, Fred and George sauntered into the common room, and chuckling as they stroked their now beardless chins. Angelina got suddenly nervous, as she popped up from her seat, and hollered to Fred. The two of them left through the portrait hole once again, leaving only George to join Angus and I.

"All debearded?" I inquired.

"Yeah, I kinda miss it, though," George replied, touching his cheek. "I think it would've looked nice with a few braids and bows."

"Yeah, that would've been a great look for you," I replied.

"Fred and I could've dyed them different colors, so people would finally tell us apart," George added. "We'd do them special for Quidditch matches and everything…."

"But did you two actually get your names in the goblet?" I inquired.

Shaking his head, George said, "No. Didn't even get near it. As soon as we crossed the line, we were thrown backwards with our beards. Your friend, that French girl, the one Lee and Fred were gagging over, she got her name in, though."

"Fleur?" I said. "Yeah, I knew she was going for it."

"And as she was going, every male in the room had his eyes glued to her," Angus added, sounding a bit exhausted. "She's just a girl for Merlin's sake."

George gave a slight shrug in agreement.

Tilting my head, I asked George, "You don't find her attractive?"

He shrugged again. "Neither does Matlock."

I struggled, trying to find the right phrase. Of course, I knew why Angus didn't fancy Fleur, but I wasn't going to say it, so I said instead, "Well, that's because Angus has a very particular taste."

"Maybe I do too," he suggested cheekily.

I narrowed my eyes, trying to decipher that statement.

Angus, stuffing some of his notes into his History of Magic book, rose from the sofa, and announced, "Excuse me, but I've got an appointment."

"On Saturday?" George asked skeptically.

"Yes," Angus retorted firmly.

I opened my mouth as he stood, since I felt as though there was something he wasn't telling me. He saw my look and gave me a cheeky wink.

"Later, Saoirse," he told me, before ducking out the portrait hole.

I held in a giggle. I had a feeling Angus had a date.

George clearly didn't have the same thoughts as I did. His eyes flashed between me and the door, and then he asked, "Are you two….?"

He made a rude, euphemistic hand gesture.

Now, I bursted out laughing.

"No!" I nearly hollered through the laughs. "You can't be serious, George, Angus and I?"

"What about you and Parker, from Ravenclaw?" George prodded.

Now he was being truly preposterous, and I nearly exploded with laughter, kicking my legs as well.

"That's hilarious, George," I said, wiping a tear from my cheek. "Imagine!"

"Yeah," he agreed, smiling. "Imagine snogging Parker, it'd be like snogging an old textbook, wouldn't it? I bet Matlock's a very angry snogger, that wouldn't be fun either…."

We both had a pretty good laugh, until George decided to change the subject to something completely out of the blue.

"Remember the day we first met?"

I raised an eyebrow. "How could I forget it? But why are you asking?"

Chuckling, George said, "Fred and I saw your grandad, the famous Patrick McAuley, and asked him about that story about him having a manticore over for dinner. Mum nearly died of embarrassment when we did that."

I laughed, recalling the day in my mind. Me, little meek and chubby-cheeked eleven year old me, in the shadow of my affluent grandad in Diagon Alley, and two redhead twins bounding for him and throwing questions about manticores and dinners.

"That was a proper introduction to the Weasleys," I said. "You two really haven't changed. You're still as mischievous as ever."

Shrugging, George crossed his legs. "I suppose, but our little Freddy may be settling down. The way he and Angelina fought this morning, you'd think they were married already. I just hope she doesn't knock all the fun out of him."

"Oh, she wouldn't," I responded. "Things would be really boring without you two wreaking havoc. You two are the best entertainment around."

Once again, George chuckled, or something like it.

"Well, thanks McAuley," he said, smiling at me. "I'm glad you find us entertaining."

He said it as if I was insulting him, prompting me to ask, "Well, you are, aren't you?"

"Yes, but we're not solely entertainers," he informed me. Leaning forward with a playfully mysterious expression, he said, "We're up and coming businessmen."

"Ah," I nodded with wide-eyed sarcasm. "Excuse me, then."

"I'm serious!" he retorted. "You'll see, we'll be rich like your grandad, living in a mansion like you, too."

I rolled my eyes. "Money isn't everything, George. My mémé shares my grandad's money, but she's living her life locked in house. And she's not exactly the happiest person either."

"Well, we'll be rich enough to impress your grandad, that's for sure," George said. "Finally, I'll…."

"Hey, Saoirse, do you have a minute?" came Alicia, interrupting George. "You're good at Transfiguration and you're great with words, would you mind proof-reading my essay for McGonagall?"

I sighed, accepting the paper Alicia thrust into my hands as she took the seat across from me.

With a light smile towards her, I said, "I'll see what I can do."


That evening was the Halloween feast. Nobody really cared about the Halloween part, though, because it was also time for the champions to be chosen for each school. On top of that, it was our second feast in the row, so it wasn't at all as exciting as the Halloween feasts of years past. People scarfed down their food anxiously, or barely poked at it at all. I, being myself, was one of the ones scarfing down their food.

The feast ended after what seemed like an eternity, as I felt my own stomach begin to bubble with anxiety like everyone else. What if Angelina was chosen? And if she was, what if she died? Or, what if it was Diggory, and the Hufflepuffs got all the glory? Or what if it was Diggory, and he died, and I'd be stuck comforting Holly for the rest of eternity? What if Fleur was chosen for Beauxbatons, and she died?

The goblet of fire was amongst the head table, the flames roaring. Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked anxious, and I think I even caught Madame Maxime biting at her nails for a moment. Crouch looked bored, and Bagman was winking and interacting with anyone who happened to glance in his direction. Dumbledore seemed to be the only calm one, as pleasant and serene as ever.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," he announced. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them to please come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber, where they will be receiving their first instructions."

With a wave of the wand, every light in the hall went out instantaneously. The goblet of fire was the remaining source of light, beaming more brilliantly and brightly than ever, the flames dancing with decision….

"Any second now," Lee said, brimming with anxiety and excitement. He leaned forward in his seat, as did most of us.

The blue flames burst into red, and a single slip of parchment flew out to be caught by Dumbledore.

"The Durmstrang Champion," read Dumbledore. "Will be Viktor Krum."

Applause rang through the hall, as the Krum bloke rose from the Slytherin table, and marched the path Dumbledore had previously announced.

After the clapping died down, the goblet did the same thing, blasting red, and expelling a new piece of parchment.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore. I felt my heart race, for Fleur. "Is Fleur Delacour!"

I clapped more furiously now, and even stood as I watched my French friend wander off after Krum. She was beaming with pride and looked more beautiful than ever, her silver hair flowing and her pretty cheeks flushed with pride.

The goblet flashed red once more, expelling the third and final parchment - the parchment for the Hogwarts champion, who we were all waiting for.

"The Hogwarts champion," Dumbledore called. "Is Cedric Diggory!"

The Hufflepuffs were louder than I ever imagined they could be. The rest of us clapped too, but weren't all that enthusiastic. All of us at the Gryffindor table were particularly disappointed, as we were rooting for Angelina as champion. I felt bad for my pal, and comforted her by a pat on the back of the hand. She looked upset, but knowing Angelina, she'd definitely pull through.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real…."

Dumbledore fell silent. The goblet turned red once more, and in a flash of sparks, emitted a fourth piece of parchment.

With the hall silent, Dumbledore caught the paper in his long fingers. I was so confused, I couldn't even imagine what was happening, but I was just as shocked as everyone else when Dumbledore read:

"Harry Potter."