Author's Note: Yay, plot! Or something...

Feedback is greatly appreciated. I didn't get much last chapter, and it makes me worry that I let this sit too long and no one cares anymore... =(

So, if you're enjoying it, please please let me know!


Emma avoided Killian for the next few days.

It was easy. He wasn't exactly making public appearances, so Emma just kept her head down and went to class, did her assignments, and pretended the ache in her chest was somehow related to the fact that the Tri-Wizard Tournament meant that Quidditch had been cancelled for the year.

Yeah, right.

Mary Margaret noticed Emma's sudden despondency, but the glare the brunette received on her initial attempt and finding out what was wrong made her back off. So, Emma drifted toward Ruby. The formerly bubbly werewolf was taking things slow with her new boyfriend, Ravenclaw Victor Whale.

Emma was sitting with Ruby and Victor in the Three Broomsticks when something unexpected happened.

"Emma," came a purring voice from far too close for Emma's liking. She straightened up and turned around to find Jefferson leaning on the back of her chair, leering at her.

"Jefferson," Emma said as diplomatically as she could.

"So," the Slytherin began, "without Quidditch or Muggle Lit, I don't get to see much of you this year."

"These things happen," Emma said with false wistfulness. "McGonagall can't teach the Muggle Lit class now that she's Headmistress; she's too busy. And they need the Quidditch pitch for challenges or something."

Jefferson nodded, but it didn't seem like he'd really been listening.

"I'd like to see more of you," Jefferson said, eyeing Emma from top to bottom.

"You see me in Potions, Herbology, and- "

"You know what I mean, Swan," Jefferson said in an exasperated tone.

The way he said it reminded Emma of Killian, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Uh," she started diplomatically, but she couldn't figure out exactly what to say.

"She's not interested," Victor drawled, giving Jefferson a cool stare.

On one hand, she appreciated Whale's intention, but on the other hand, Emma could deal with Jefferson on her own. She flashed Victor a quick frown before turning back to Jefferson.

"What do you want, Hatter?" Emma said in a strained tone.

"Go out with me," the Slytherin replied, grinning.

"If I say 'yes,' will you go away?" Emma said.

"Sure," he replied, clearly not bothered by the idea that she would agree just to get rid of him.

"Fine," Emma said.

"Emma- " Ruby started.

"Next Hogsmeade weekend," Jefferson said, "or you can be my date to the Yule Ball."

"Fine," Emma repeated through gritted teeth. "Now leave us alone?"

Jefferson grinned a manic, Cheshire Cat grin before spinning around dramatically and striding away from the table.

"Emma," Ruby said again, chastising. "The Yule Ball, really?"

"As if I'm gonna go to that," Emma said, making a dismissive gesture with one hand. "Can you picture me at a ball?"

"Attendance is required, Emma," Ruby said.

"No one's gonna notice one missing student," Emma insisted. "I'm pretty good at hiding when I don't want to be found."

"If you're chosen as the Hogwarts Champion, you'll have to attend," Victor said.

"Well, the odds aren't exactly in my favor for that," Emma said, taking a drink of her butterbeer. "And if I am the champion, I'll deal with it then."

"Or you could just meet him for the next Hogsmeade weekend," Ruby offered. "He did give you that option."

"Yeah, maybe," Emma said, but she wasn't really considering that as a choice. She thought it would be easier to avoid Jefferson altogether.

.

A few days later, Emma was sitting in the library working on her potions transfiguration homework when someone else came up behind her.

"How's Killian doing?" Mary Margaret asked with a false air of casualness.

The nib of Emma's quill snapped.

"That good, huh?" Mary Margaret said, sliding into the chair beside Emma.

"I haven't seen him in over a week," Emma said honestly. She kept her voice as neutral as possible. She'd been avoiding Mary Margaret, and she felt a little bad for it.

"Since the announcement about the Tournament, you mean?" Mary Margaret asked, immediately connecting the dots.

"I guess is was around that time, yeah," Emma hedged.

"What happened?" Mary Margaret asked.

"Nothing, really," Emma said with a shrug. "I'm just not sure I'm ready to… I mean- "

"Did he try to get you to..?" Mary Margaret asked, eyes wide. She trailed off suggestively.

"Uh," Emma said, fidgeting, "not exactly."

"You know it's okay to tell him 'no,' Emma," Mary Margaret lectured. "A real gentleman will wait until a girl is ready for- "

"Ugh! Can we not talk about this, please?" Emma hissed. "Seriously, Mary Margaret, sometimes it's like you think you're my mom."

Mary Margaret laughed, and then the two girls shared a friendly moment of silence. Emma eventually returned Mary Margaret's smile.

"You should talk to him again," Mary Margaret said gently.

"Maybe," Emma admitted, shrugging one shoulder.

"Think about it?" Mary Margaret asked.

"Yeah," Emma agreed with a sigh, "okay."

"Good!" Mary Margaret said brightly. "Well, I've got to go. David and Robin are holding a meeting for Gryffindor students who are thinking about putting their name in the cup."

"Oh?" Emma said, perking up slightly.

"You wanna come?" Mary Margaret said innocently.

"Yeah," Emma said, nodding. She swept her books and parchments off the table and into her bag. "Let's go."

.

The meeting went well. The hopeful Gryffindor champions agreed to put their names into the Goblet of Fire together after the welcome dinner for the foreign students. They resolved to support whomever was chosen as Hogwarts champion and not feel bitter if the funny old cup didn't spit out their name.

David and Robin even managed to make Emma laugh. They were placing bets on which of them would be chosen.

With one thing and another, Emma found herself focusing on her first set of projects in her N.E.W.T.-level classes, and she let her resolution to speak to Killian remain unfulfilled. She'd almost forgotten the agreement entirely when a scrap of paper appeared on the middle of her desk one day during potions. Even before she unfolded the note, Emma knew exactly who had left it for her, and it made her heart thud almost painfully. She snatched up the paper and looked around, knowing that the it was a futile gesture. The doorway to the dungeon was open, so her invisible message-leaver could have slipped out easily. Emma honestly didn't know how long the note had been sitting on her desk. She'd been crushing seeds for a couple of minutes before she turned back to check the next ingredient she needed. He could have been long gone, but Emma sensed that he'd wait to make sure she found the note before leaving.

Had he left now that she'd found it? Or would he hover like a ghost until she read it?

Emma's fingers curled around the folded paper as she weighed her options. She decided that if the message was about an emergency, Killian would have delivered it differently, so she slipped it into the pocket of her jeans, underneath her robe, and went back to crushing seeds.

After class, Emma ducked into an unused hallway and pulled out the note. Her stomach did a little flip when she opened the paper to see Killian's neat handwriting with his signature hooked flourishes. The note was unsigned, and wasn't addressed. It was short, and wouldn't mean anything to anyone else. Just two simple words:

Found something.

Emma's heart was thudding again. She read the note over and over, cradling it in the bowl of her two hands like the flame of a tiny candle.

He wasn't asking anything of her. He wasn't demanding anything. He was just letting her know and giving her the opportunity to respond if she wanted to.

Did she want to?

"Emma, there you are!" Mary Margaret said, making Emma jump.

The blonde girl shoved the scrap of paper back into her pocket, and made what she hoped sounded like a normal human noise.

"They're here!" Mary Margaret said, her voice vibrating with excitement. There was no need to ask to whom Mary Margaret was referring. It was 30 October, which meant the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were arriving.

Mary Margaret grabbed Emma's arm and started dragging her toward the front of the castle. Emma allowed it, her mind buzzing like it was full of bees.

Why did the Tri-Wizard Tournament have to be happening now? Emma's spine was itching again, and she couldn't help but feel like everything was somehow connected.

.

Nearly the entire school was assembled outside the castle by the time Emma and Mary Margaret burst through the doors. A giant, golden flying carriage pulled by winged horses was just landing. A rather stern-looking (but beautiful) black-haired woman exited the carriage, her chin held high. She looked like royalty in her midnight blue velvet robe with gems encrusted around the neckline.

"Who's that?" someone in the crown whispered to Emma's left.

"Directrice Cora Descours, Headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic," came Regina's cool reply from Emma's right. Her voice carried a hint of bitterness.

"How do you know that?" Emma asked.

Regina's expression tightened a little.

"We're related," the Slytherin girl admitted begrudgingly, making Emma blink in surprise. "I could have gone to Beauxbatons, if I wanted."

"Huh," Emma said, unsure what other reply to make. There did seem to be a family resemblance between Regina Mills and the headmistress of the French school.

Regina turned back to looking at the students exiting the carriage, so Emma did so as well. They were exclusively female, all lovely in their blue and white uniforms that reminded Emma disturbingly of the costume actresses tended to wear when they dressed as Alice in Wonderland.

Professor McGonagall greeted Directrice Descours formally, then the foreign headmistress and her gaggle of pinafored girls sashayed into the castle in a line of swishing skirts. Many Hogwarts boys watched the parade of female students with obvious interest.

As the girls disappeared into the castle, Emma's attention was drawn to the lake. A large ripple spread out, sending water lapping up the shore. Something pierced the center of the disturbance, and a shape began to rise out of the water. At first, Emma couldn't make sense of the billowing white and black, but eventually, the form crystallized into a ship rising out of the lake. The large boat sailed gracefully to the edge of the water, and then a massive gangplank was cast over the gunwale. People in heavy black coats and thick scarves poured over the side, streaming down the ramp in neat, militaristic rows. A stern old man headed the regiment, his blood-red robes ornately decorated with gold and jewels. He had cruel-looking ice-blue eyes, Emma noticed when he got close enough for her to see him properly. He carried a peculiar staff, like an elongated walking stick with a large, gold head clutched in his claw-like hand.

"Schulleiter George König, Headmaster of Durmstrang Institute," David supplied wryly, putting an arm around Mary Margaret. "We're related."

He echoed Regina's words in precisely the same tone.

It almost made Emma feel glad to be an orphan.

Mary Margaret asked David something, but Emma's ears filled with buzzing again, and that spot between her shoulderblades felt like it was crawling with fire ants. She looked around carefully to determine what had set off her alarm bells, and then she saw him. Her stomach flipped as she recognized the tall, brown-eyed student in line behind the Durmstrang headmaster.

She hadn't seen him in years, not since he left without a word. Leaving for Durmstrang. Something about his father. She'd had to find out from classmates.

He hadn't said goodbye.

Emma's chest felt too tight. Her head was spinning.

"Neal," she whispered, her voice breaking on the simple, one-syllable name.

She spun around and sprinted into the safety of the castle.