"Guys, hurry up. We're gonna be late." Fred hammered his fist on the door to the girl's dorm room.

It had been almost a week since the incident and, though it was Hogwarts and no secret stayed a secret for long, the whispers were beginning to silence. Emilia didn't so much mind that she could transform into a dragon (a Hebridean Black, as Rose Weasley had informed her) anymore; she knew how to deal with that. But Kyle had not said a word to her since it had happened. Perhaps he was afraid of her, perhaps he didn't want to deal with any future outbursts; she wasn't sure.

Though she would never care to admit it, Emilia did visit the hospital wing once before Alice had been released, after a couple of days recovering. The blonde girl had been asleep, her childish expression reminded Emilia of that which she had seen in Diagon Alley before she first came to Hogwarts. She had left a fresh bunch of flowers in the vase next to Alice's bed, but no note in fear the girl would become angrier with her than she, no doubt, already was.

As for James, given Fred's new-found fondness of Emilia, and the reluctance of his friends in Gryffindor and Slytherin to go anywhere near her, his behaviour was, to say the least, uncomfortable. Emilia understood that he wanted nothing do to with her, and thus she often went out of her way to avoid him, but it wasn't easy when James clearly preferred the company of Will and Fred to his other gossiping companions.

Dragging Annie away from the mirror, Emilia opened the door to the dorms and pulled her friend down to the Common Room behind Fred.

"Where have you two been?" Natalie raised an eyebrow.

"Annie is worried that she's going to look like crap compared to the Beauxbaton girls, and then no one will ask her to the Ball."

"You're joking, right? You're Oliver Wood's daughter! I'm pretty sure that Quidditch fans are going to be throwing themselves at your feet," Eve laughed.

"Oh, of course. Fame, one; looks and personality, zero," Annie groaned.

"Come on, or else we'll be late."

The fifth year Gryffindors traipsed in a pack through the castle and down to the Great Hall. Most of the student body had already gathered inside. The flames had been darkened, throwing an eerie shadow over the Hall. Finding their places at Gryffindor table, the group sat down and waited for the headmistress to stand.

"Students of Hogwarts, as you know, this year we will be the host of the Triwizard Tournament. This means, of course, that we shall also be playing host to the other Wizarding schools who will be competing in the Tournament. Will you please join me in welcoming the students of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic." Professor McGonagall threw up her arms towards the doors of the Great Hall.

The doors flew open, and in paraded a troupe of students dressed in blue silk robes, which rippled delicately as they flew up the centre aisle between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables. Following them was the tallest woman that Emilia had ever seen. She was very thin, and wore elegant robes from head to toe.

"I told you there were all beautiful, and the boys are just as pretty!" Annie hissed in her ear, making her snicker.

The Beauxbatons lined up in front of the teachers' platform, swept an arm and their robes to one side, and bowed low before the students of Hogwarts. McGonagall stepped forward to greet Madame Maxime with a genuine smiled, however the embrace seemed a little forced. The Hall rippled with quiet chatter as Beauxbaton students flashed perfect smiles and went to sit in the space provided at the to top of Ravenclaw table.

The headmistress returned to her podium and held up her hands for silence. "And now, we shall welcome the students of Durmstrang."

Without so much as a flick of her wrist, the doors opened of their own accord, once more to reveal a squadron of handsome, stone-faced, boys. Some had beards, others did not. Behind them followed the girls, and even their faces were stern, seemingly hardened by the cold winds of the North. They strode majestically into the Hall, not once looking at the students of Hogwarts. It was as if they had been told to look as terrifyingly brooding as possible.

The headmaster of Durmstrang caught Emilia's eye long before anyone else turned to look at him. He looked almost too young to be a teacher, but though his face was boyish, it looked beaten and intelligent, his long black hear swept back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. However, the most notable feature had to be his black lips, standing out against his pale skin; they were thin, to match his nose and face. He kept a fair way behind his students, perhaps afraid of their heavy strides.

Emilia's eyes never left his figure as he slunk, much like a fox, up to the front of the Great Hall to greet Professor McGonagall. She caught his tight face stretch into a smile, as the Durmstrang students bowed as the Beauxbatons had to the Hogwarts' student body and went to sit in the space at Slytherin table.

McGonagall stepped back up to the podium. "I hope that our guests will be comfortable in their home for this year, and I trust that the students of Hogwarts will be helpful and welcoming to them." As the headteachers of the guest schools took their seats at the high table, McGonagall gestures to a woman, in her early thirties, sitting at the end of the teacher's table who stood and gave a cheery wave to the student body. "Regina Harold is the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and she will be overseeing the Tournament and making sure everything runs smoothly. Now, due to the events of the last Tournament, and the Ministry's focus on challenging young students, and entertainment value, the age for those who are able to enter to Tournament has been raised. This year, no student under the age of sixteen will be allowed to enter." Where Emilia expected a groan from some of the students over fourteen – the age requirement for the last Tournament – there was dead silence. Everyone had seen what has happened to the poor Beauxbatons boy last time; it didn't seem so unfair as it might have done if nothing had gone wrong.

The caretaker, an aging woman with bright white hair, appeared at the head of the Hall, her wand raised to levitate the large object floating down the centre aisle. Stopping it just in front of McGonagall's podium, she set it down gently and withdrew to the side of Hall. The entirety of the student body stared, some with mouths wide open in awe. The object looked very much like a tiered cake that one might see at a wedding, but made entirely of silver and bronze. It was gilded with patterns and markings, each tier telling a different story. McGonagall slipped down to stand next to it, eliciting a gasp from the spectators as she tapped the top of the object with her wand, and the metal just seemed to melt away. Underneath the casing was a large cup, which was far less impressive, though it stood proudly, the melted casing draped like a shining table cloth on the stand.

"This is the Goblet of Fire!" she announced with a fierce look in her eyes. A swift jet of pale blue fire sprang up from the goblet, throwing of a halo of eerie light across the faces of the students sitting closest to it. "Those of you who wish to enter need only write your name on a slip of paper and place it into the Goblet. I will be drawing an age line around it so that any underage attempts to enter," McGonagall looked sternly over her glasses, "will only result in unfortunate consequences. One student from each school, that the Goblet deems a worthy Champion, will be chosen on the 31st of October. Those of you who are over sixteen have until then to make your choice. It is an honour to be chosen to represent your school, but if this honour falls on you, then you must stand alone. Please, take this into consideration. Now, let us enjoy our banquet to welcome our guests."

"Emilia?" Annie tugged on Emilia's arm as food filled the platters in front of them. "Earth to Emilia," she said, clicking her fingers next to her friend's ears.

But Emilia was transfixed by the fire. Her birthday was on Halloween, the day of the Champions' reaping. Even though she would have to wait until the very last second, she would be old enough to enter the Tournament. What would happen if she did? Would she be chosen? No, that seemed impossible. Of all the students in Hogwarts, there was no way she could be worthy of such an honour. And her mind wondered, until she was lost in an impossible world where she could finally put her past failures behind her and become someone she could be proud of.

"Emilia!" Fred clapped his hands in front of her face. Snapping out her trance, she shook her head and looked at him blankly. "Are you alright? I thought we'd lost you for a moment."

Emilia forced a smile, quickly pushing her irrational thoughts the back of her mind. After all, her father would never let her do it anyway. That world suddenly seemed miles away. She spooned a few carrots onto her plate, and tried to forget her wonderful delusions.