Mistake - Stephanie's POV

A/N: Happy New Year! Thank you again to all my readers who've stayed with me. This is my first long story so keep the faith, it's a kind of trial and error thing. BIG love to all my reviewers epsecially the dark euphie, Elfin69 and Grissom's Sister you guys rock and it makes me so happy when i see that little review message. Love you all and be hoping to hear more from me soon.

The air in the room was tense, but it was charged as well. Everyone was practically on the edge of their seats, eyes wide, and bodies rigid. From the corner of my eye I could see Cedric, then I turned to look at him full on. He looked incredibly excited, like a little child on Christmas day, right before they get to open their presents. He stroked a hand through his silky hair and turned, catching me staring at him. I think he got the wrong impression because he smiled and winked at me, and then blew a distinctly conspicuous kiss my way.

Hermione was as helpful as ever in these, rather delicate situations. Giggling, she said, "Harry, you do know that you've gone bright red, don't you?" There was no doubt that she was the most intelligent witch in our year but sometimes she could be dim.

"Git's still looking your way, y'know," Ron murmured, wearing the same, older-brother look of disgust when he glanced Cedric's way. It was flattering that Ron was so protective but that didn't stop it being extremely irritating as well.

I finished my dinner, feeling full and rather sleepy, when there was a loud knocking at the door. My head span, in the same second that most others did, all pairs of eyes trained on the entrance to the Great Hall. It was generally our experience that when something unexpected knocked on those heavy, oak doors, it's not good news. My mind took me back to that eventful night in first year, when I think we really made our mark as a trio, the night of the cave troll. That was when most professors decided that maybe we weren't the average first years. Although not all of the teachers were so impressed. "Clearly, not even a cave troll can get the better of the great Harry Potter." That was his scathing remark he left us with, a real mood-dampener. Still i could never imagine Snape as a flatterer.

Though, looking back on my years, it's probably for the better that someone was there telling me how unworthy I was, to be receiving all that attention. I knew that, obviously, I hadn't done anything wonderful and people wanted my autograph, wanted to look at me, be spoken to by me. It isn't even like I want any of it; my deepest wish is that Ron and I could swap places. I would give anything to be a normal girl, with a normal family, being spectacularly, unnoticeably normal, oh with the slight abnormality of being a witch of course. Snape seemed always to want to keep my head as deflated as possible.

The point is that when those doors creaked open, we were all clearly expecting the worse, most terrifying thing we could imagine. It seemed only right that on this magical, monumental evening, something was going to go wrong. I'm sure there's some sort of theory about that, anything that can go wrong will go wrong. Nevertheless, when our dear Potions master walked through the doors, limping and holding one arm awkwardly, my heartbeat stopped just for one hundredth of a second.

It was irrational, probably a natural response to something you expected to be terrifying, even though it wasn't. Guilt seeped through me but I pushed it away, it was silly to feel guilty for feeling something you couldn't control me. Ron looked incredulously at the injured man as he limped to the Top Table.

"What in the name of Merlin's beard is he doing back? A month he said! I had a month of relaxing in potions planned out. Bloody hell," Ron glowered as he crossed his arms.

"Looks like he's got some pretty serious injuries," I muttered quietly, even though it was silly to say it aloud, it just made the heavy, horrible feeling in my stomach worse.

"Mmm, they do look bad. Reminds me of first year, the limping I mean," Hermione offered. Her eyebrows were knitted together in that truly infuriating way which means she's thinking something through but if you asked her what it was, she'd go all elusive and say, 'oh nothing, nothing.'

Snape looked tired, hurt but otherwise ok. He wasn't bleeding profusely from all orifices, he could walk, presumably talk and his general demeanour was still that of the silent, malevolent teacher. So why was my heart still beating so hard and why was I still scared? Even Ron only looked petulant now, and Hermione thoughtful as usual.

Dumbledore turned away from Snape, as the latter took his place next to Professor Sinistra and banged delicately on a crystal goblet for silence. As the last crystal ring shimmered into the tense air, the Goblet was revealed again. Everyone gasped as the flames burnt now, flickering up from the cup eerily. My stomach clenched and I looked at Cedric again. He was a little paler now, but still looked desperately excited.

From the looks on everyone's faces, it seemed that people would spontaneously combust if Dumbledore drew out the choosing of the names any longer. So I was thankful when he got straight down to it. The dignified wizard stepped forward, swinging beard nearly sweeping the floor and walked straight to the cup. Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman, the two ministry officials looked on in excitement, well Bagman was excited, Crouch looked his miserable self.

Sparks jumped out of the cup as Dumbledore approached, as if the little scarlet emissions wanted nothing more than to be out of the goblet. More and more were emitted until the cup flamed red and a scorched piece of parchment fluttered down into the waiting hand of the headmaster. Hermione squeezed my fingers excitedly, she seemed to be really getting into this.

"The Champion for Beauxbaton's Academy is...Miss Fleur Delacour!" Dumbledore boomed, his fruity voice filling the Hall. The Beauxbats erupted with delight and and one particularly pretty girl flushed red and her covered her face with her hands in delight. Ron smiled happily and looked longingly over at the girl Miss Delacour was hugging. Madame Maxime clapped her hands together and the noise reached its peak. I recognised the girl as being the sister of the little girl who came up to me earlier in the week.

As the cup began to emit red sparks a second time, the noise dropped and you could hear the fizzle of the singed parchment as it gently fluttered down.

"And the Champion for Durmstrang is...Mr Viktor Krum." The large boys at the Slytherin table whooped and cheered, Krum loudest of all. The Quidditch star looked the opposite of the calm cool self he was on a broom. Hermione went red as well, looking over at him and smiling as he high fived a well-built Durmstrang boy.

And then there was only one more name to be called. The Hogwarts Champion. A student for whom eternal glory would not be such a distant dream, but a very real possibility. I looked over to the Hufflepuffs and saw Cedric being surrounded by a gaggle of girls, all trying to hold some part of him, presumably whispering words of luck. I waited with baited breath for the feeling of jealousy to come to me. The Dumbledore was speaking for the final time as the goblet spat out its third and final name.

"And the third and final TriWizard Champion for Hogwarts is...Mr Cedric Diggory!" Dumbledore bellowed happily. I yelled as loud as I could and hugged Hermione tightly, dating a champion felt pretty damned good. There were obviously some disappointed faces in the crowd, not least Fred and George who still looked a little stubbly around the mouth, those magical beards were hard to shave off apparently. Everyone was in the midst of congratulations and commiserations when someone shouted out a surprised exclamation. My head turned to the goblet as did everyone elses.

To our amazement, it was turning red. A deep, unexpected crimson. As hundreds of heads looked on in disbelief, the cup sputtered and a fourth piece of paper drifted slowly down into the bewildered grasp of Dumbledore. He looked totally dumbstruck and his wrinkly forehead grew even more so as he read the little piece of parchment. I looked at Ron, Hermione and Neville and I could see my own confusion mirrored on their faces.

"Harry Potter," came the barely audible whisper from the front of the Hall. Of course it didn't register at the time. I remember wondering why Hermione was looking at me so strangely. Ron's face had darkened, like when a cloud passes over the sun. People began to point and whisper, antagonized.

"Harry Potter," Dumbledore said, louder this time. My heart jolted and I looked up at him. As his pale blue eyes locked onto mine I shook my head in blatant disbelief. All the staff were staring at me as well. Cedric had turned pale white and was questioning me with his beautiful eyes.

"HARRY POTTER!" the headmaster bellowed and Hermione shoved my back hard, sending me stumbling forward. With shaking legs I walked up to the front of the hall, followed by every pair of eyes, people still whispering and pointing. Once I was standing by the podium, with the other champions, the headmaster looked me straight in the eyes and I felt his gaze pierce me. Without another word, he took me by the shoulder and guided me out of the hall into the trophy room, followed by the three champions, Bagman, Crouch, the other heads of schools and an assortment of teachers including Snape.

Once we were all gathered around, Dumbledore took me roughly by both shoulders, shaking me and looking at me intensely.

"Did you put your name in the goblet, Harry?" he asked me, eyes roaming my face, as if checking for any trace of a lie.

Angrily, I shook him off. This was ridiculous. "Of course not professor!" I shot back angrily, my hands clenching into fists. Oh yeah, like I'd be stupid enough to try and trick a magical artefact. I thought Dumbledore knew me better. In the background there was a confused babble of noise, everyone making their thoughts heard, some more loudly than others. Bagman was irritatingly cheerful, kept saying how good it was to have a change in life and he seemed oddly delighted that I'd been picked.

Dumbledore looked at me closely, then nodded. Snape walked over stiffly and whispered something in the headmaster's ear and they looked at me then Dumbledore nodded at him. I felt my face going bright red, it was embarrassing having hundreds of people looking at you and talking about you but when people do it right before your eyes it's a different matter.

"So St- Miss Potter, you did not put your name into the Goblet of Fire, not that I believe for a moment you have the magical ability?" Snape drawled, his eyes trailing over me. I shivered then shook my head firmly. It was all quite ridiculous and I was glad that someone was on my side, even if he did it in a rather negative way.

"As I suspected," Snape continued, "I believe, headmaster, that this is the work of a far more powerful wizard than she."

From the shadows emerged Moody, backing Snape up, telling all how only a superbly strong charm would have been able to confuse the goblet into accepting a name from a fourth school. At that very moment Karkaroff stepped forward, looking darker than thunder and livid with anger.

"You seem to have thought all of this through, Mad-Eye," he said accusingly, coming nose to nose with the quirky Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Moody retorted scathingly that it was his job to think as Dark wizards do, as Karkaroff ought to remember. That changed the Russian's tune and he squared up to Moody, drawing his wand from the inner pocket of his thick, winter robe. Sparks flew from the tip and I drew backwards in fright, straight into Professor Snape. Though it might have been my imagination, I thought I could feel an arm begin to pressed against my side. Before I could decide whether I was hallucinating or not, Dumbledore broke up the nearly-duel and any imagined physical presence was gone and Snape had vanished to the headmaster's side.

Briefly, Mr Crouch explained that there would be three surprise trials and the first would test our daring. That was infuriatingly vague and my head was spinning. None of this made sense, who would put my name in the goblet? Who hated me so much that they would trick a powerful magical object to put me through deadly tasks? My head spun and I felt so tired from the whole experience that I wobbled and nearly fell.

A strong, male hand caught and steadied me. I looked up and Cedric was looking down at me, his lovely brown eyes confused and he lead me out of the room, back towards the great hall. He was pulling me along so fast that I nearly stumbled twice and had to cling to him.

When we were near the entrance to the hall and sufficiently alone, he drew cool fingers down my cheek and smiled his widest smile.

"You should have told me, I would have helped you do it. I think it's incredible," he whispered, mouth close to my ear, blowing warm breath and tickling it. He smiled and kissed my cheek. I pulled away, irritated and exhausted, not in the mood for another interrogation.

"Cedric, I didn't put my name in the cup and more fool you for thinking I could," I said crossly and he went to interrupt but I stopped him by saying, "Look, I'm tired and I need to go to bed and get my head around this. Goodnight Cedric."

I turned to leave but he spun me round by the wrist and kissed me full on the lips, whispering sweetly, "Goodnight, sorry." Then he left, still looking as happy as a little puppy, positively wagging his tail.

When I reached the common room I could here there was a great commotion going on behind the portrait. I couldn't understand it until I realised it was for me. Again. There was cheering and whooping and something like wizard party poppers when I entered the room. It was all too much and the scar on my forehead seared, then a dull ache started in my temple.

It was Hermione who saved me, ten minutes into the impromptu party. She spotted that I wasn't feeling well and took my hand, saying in a very McGonagall-like voice that she thought I'd had quite enough for one night and should be getting to bed, after all I needed my sleep. Ron was notable only by his absence and I saw in my mind's eye his horrified face again when Dumbledore called out my name. Surely not? Surely Ron couldn't believe I'd done something like that and not told him.

When we were safely locked away in the dormitory, Hermione took one look at my face and sat me down next to her on the bed. She told me how Ron had looked sourer than milk gone off, storming off to bed without a word.

"I know you didn't put your name in the goblet Harry, it's obvious. But Ron's always been...touchier about these subjects, you know?" she was trying her hardest to be diplomatic but I was still irritated.

"Subjects? You mean me having yet another thing happen to me that I never asked for? That I don't want!" I said, exasperatedly. Sighing I turned and said goodnight to her. She promised we'd talk in the morning but I really didn't hear exactly what she was saying.

As I drifted into a troubled sleep, I remembered the way Professor Sinistra simpered over Snape when he sat down at top table earlier. A strange feeling washed over me, and the scene of her patting his good arm was tinted with an emerald green colour.

A/N: Oooh I've got a whole lot of work I need to do in these coming weeks so updates might not be as regular. What do you think to redoing this chapter from Snape's POV as well? Loveyou xxx