Calla woke in the morning feeling wretched, and curled in on herself as she opened her eyes blearily, watching the other girls get up and speak lowly to each other. There were voices of some of the older students floating through the doorway from the corridor. "Desperate to get herself a bit more fame, that's all," someone said.

"I don't know. Potter never really seemed much the type, and didn't you see her face? I don't think she'd want it."

"Well what other explanation do you have, Liz?"

"Her friends said last night that someone else put it in for her. And you have to admit, it is all a bit weird, isn't it? It must have been really complicated to confuse the goblet like that - Dumbledore said he did the enchantments himself."

"All I want to know is how she did it; if anyone could do it, it's a Ravenclaw, but none of us managed to figure it out."

"I bet her brother did it for her," another voice said. "He'd be the one who wanted all the attention."

"I'm not sure she would want it too though, Alice," said Liz's voice. "And how would her brother do it, he's still only fourteen?"

"Come on, where have you been the last three years? All they want's attention, and I don't think we should give it to them. We could have figured out a way around the goblet easily, except we actually listened and followed the rules, unlike them. Support Cedric, I say."

"Now," said a fourth voice, "Potter's one of ours, isn't she?"

"Supporting her's supporting the brother too, though."

"No, Camilla's right," said Liz's voice. "We can at least support her. Merlin knows getting her name in's one thing, but that girl's one of us and she still needs all the help she can get."

"Suppose it could be worse. Could have been just him. A Gryffindor, can you imagine?"

"They're all talking about me," Calla whispered to Daphne, as Padma got up with a huff and closed their dormitory door. She sat up, frowning, as Matilda padded into her lap. "I'm not going to breakfast."

"Stop being ridiculous, Potter," said Lisa, yawning as she brushed her hair. "If you don't go to breakfast, they'll take that as a sign of guilt, and you're not guilty, are you?"

"Well, no."

"Exactly. So stop whining and suck it up."

"You know you're insufferable right?" Daphne asked Lisa, who scowled.

"You know you're a cow? Calla, get dressed and come on with the rest of us. No one'll give you flack if you deal with it with us around you, yeah?"

"Why are you being nice to me?"

"I'm not," Lisa said, looking as though she was disgusted by the very idea. "But any Ravenclaw champion's better than none, and I know you didn't put your own name in that goblet, so there."

"She is being nice to you," Padma whispered. "She just doesn't want to be."

"If you'll all stop talking behind my back, that'd be lovely as well, thanks."

"You're facing us," Daphne retorted, and hauled Calla to her feet, spooking Matilda. "Come on."

Calla groaned, but set about getting dressed. She wished her owl had returned already, but knew Remus and Sirius may not even have received her letter yet. When they got downstairs, but Calla could see Elizabeth Lewis and her friends looking at her suspiciously, and Marietta Edgecombe scoffed loudly at her appearance. "Ignore them," Padma murmured, leading her onwards. "They just like to have a drama on their hands."

"Well, they've certainly got one," Calla muttered. She'd been going to work on her Potions essay today, but now she didn't feel like trying to do anything productive whatsoever.

As they went through the school she could feel all the stares on her back. The Gryffindors seemed alright, for the most part, but the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins all whispered and hissed and glared, and she didn't fail to notice how the Beauxbatons students at the Ravenclaw Table moved away from her as she sat down. Hell, even a few of the other Ravenclaws moved away, whispering.

"I hate this," she said quietly as she took a slice of toast. "Everyone's looking at me."

"Ignore them," Daphne told her, heaping bacon onto her plate, "like Padma said. We can go play ground Quidditch or something today, I can't be bothered with the homework."

"I'm not really in the mood," Calla said, shaking her head. "I think I'll just read or draw or something."

"And shut yourself in the dorm all day?" Padma shook her head at her. "Fresh air'll do you the world of good, Daphne's right."

"Since when did you start fussing so much?"

Padma gave her a look. "Just eat up first, come on."

After breakfast, the others insisted that Calla join them by the lake in a game of ground Quidditch. All ten of them went, but Terry hung back to sit by her under an oak tree, as she didn't much feel like participating and the teams would have been uneven otherwise. But Calla did have to admit, she felt a bit better for being out in the air, and feeling what was left of the sun on her skin as she turned the pages of her book: this one was I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith.

Terry was reading, too; his old, clearly well read copy of The Hobbit. Calla glanced over at him as she finished her chapter, and he caught her looking, and frowned. "What?"

"What bit are you at?" she asked him.

"Only just met Gollum." He nodded to her. "You?"

"Have you read it?" Calla asked, suddenly excited.

"No, but I've read a hundred and one dalmatians."

"That totally doesn't count," Calla laughed. "You can read it when I'm done, but I'm not telling you what happens."

Terry grinned, and leaned back against the tree just as Daphne got a goal past Michael and yelled in celebration. "They'd all do so much better if they just learned basketball techniques. Or footie."

"I think Daphne's the only one apart from Izzy who knows what basketball is," Calla giggled. "And even then."

"We could totally show them up."

"I could," she said with a smirk, and Terry nudged her shoulder, feigning offence.

"I was on my primary school's basketball team, I'll have you know."

"Really?" Calla grinned.

"Yes! I was brilliant, led us to victory twice!"

"Twice." Calla grinned at him. "Impressive."

"It was very impressive, thank you." He shook out his hair, making it go fluffy and golden as it caught on the sunlight. He grinned and for a moment looked like he was going to move, then fell back. "I think Harry's looking for you."

Calla turned around sharply, to see Harry and Hermione lingering awkwardly nearby. "See you in a minute," she said, scrambling to her feet and heading over. She was still annoyed with Harry, a bit, but it faded in the light of the day now everything had sunk in. Even if Harry had been more determined in standing with her, there probably wasn't anything they could have done. And if they did want to know what Voldemort was up to - for Calla was sure he must be behind this somehow - then they had to stick with it anyway, and make sure they were prepared.

"Hey," she said as she greeted them. The sound of the game behind her died down a little. "Look, Harry, I'm... I'm sorry for yelling at you."

He blinked in surprise, then smiled. "Yeah. It's alright. Look, I just got a letter from Sirius and Remus. Moony gave it to me."

"He did?" Calla said, pouting a little as she took the letter Harry was holding out to her.

She unfolded it quickly, glancing at him.

To Calla and Harry, it read in Sirius' handwriting.

We're coming up to talk to you, and to Dumbledore. Let us know when your Hogsmeade weekend is and we'll come to see you. This is all very worrying indeed. It's no wonder Moody's been posted to Hogwarts, and I have to say, you both ought to listen to him. The rules probably say you can't take help from teachers; take all the help you can get.

As for Karkaroff, we've heard of him. He's never been convicted of being a Death Eater, he got off, but it was a sort of public secret that he was, Remus tells me everyone in the order knew he really was afterwards. Watch out for him, and do not trust anything he says.

We'll see you soon. Take care.

Sirius and Remus

"So Karkaroff is dodgy, then," Calla said, passion the letter back to Harry, who pocketed it. "The Hogsmeade day's about a fortnight from now, isn't it?" It would be Calla's first proper time in the village - she wasn't counting her last visit, in which she had barely gone further than Honeydukes cellar - though not Harry's. He nodded.

"I've written a bit of a reply already but I wanted to talk to you before I sent it off."

"What've you written?"

"Jus when the weekend is, and saying I'm a bit suspicious of Karkaroff, too. Moody doesn't like him either, does he?" Calla shook her head. "I thought... Well, I thought maybe he'd put our names in."

"I'd considered that," Calla admitted. "But did you see how angry he was?"

"Could've been acting," Harry said. "Especially if he got off once before."

"You have a point," Calla said. "Write that, too." She glanced at Hermione then. "How did the Gryffindors react last night?"

"With a very loud party," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

"They all think I put my name in."

"Most of the Ravenclaws do, too, or at least the upper years," Calla told him. "I think some of them have come round to realising I didn't, but I don't know. Funnily, Lisa actually doesn't. She says I'm not good enough at magic to, and I'm too scared." She shrugged, even though Harry looked a little offended on her behalf. "I mean, she's right."

"She shouldn't have said that!" Hermione said.

"I don't really care to be honest," she said. "Daphne and Padma are with me, and all of the Ravenclaws in our year saying they'll help, if I do need it. After I said I didn't do it, they all seem to believe it. There wouldn't be any point in me lying, after all." She swallowed; she didn't really want to ask for anybody's help. She wanted to be able to do this, she realised. Even though it was very unlikely. She shook her head, and then frowned. "Where's Ron?"

"Er," said Hermione, looking at Harry, whose face had darkened.

"He thinks we put our names in."

"He does?" Calla asked. She'd have thought if anyone would believe Harry, it would have been Ron. "Why?"

"Bit of attention? Want some glory? I don't know!" He huffed loudly. "He's being a bit of a git about it."

"He'll come around," Calla told him as confidently as she could. "Just give him a bit space until he lets you explain. He'll have to believe you, right?"

"I don't know," said Harry, shifting awkwardly. "I guess."

"He will," she told him. She didn't know, but if she had to then she'd tell Ron to make it up with Harry herself. "Do you want to come join us? We're playing ground Quidditch."

"No," Harry said, rather quickly. "I... I'd rather just stick with Hermione."

She quirked her lips into a small sort of smile. "Daphne and Padma forced me to come out. But I guess it's for the best." She hugged her brother quickly. "I'll see you later. Come see us if you want."

"Thanks," Harry said gloomily, as he and Hermione left, disappearing inside.

She sighed, walking back over to Terry. Somehow she felt more restless now she'd heard from Remus and Sirius, and the news about Karkaroff did unsettle her. She tried to shake it off. "What was that about?" Terry asked her.

"Doesn't matter," she said quickly, pulling her hair into a ponytail. "Daphne?" Daphne turned, the game coming to a halt. "Can I jump in?"

Daphne's face split into a grin, and Padma looked slightly relieved. "Come on then," she said, "if you must."

Xx

While Calla had been relatively able to hide away from the rest of the school on Sunday, with a cluster of her friends around her at all times, come Monday morning she wasn't quite so able. While she got the impression some of her housemates had realized that she had not entered her own name, many still seemed hostile towards her, and it wasn't like the alternative - that this was part of a plot by someone, probably Voldemort, whom most still thought was gone - was easy to believe. She had Defense Against the Dark Arts first, which was a class with Slytherin, and she wasn't sure she'd ever been more miserable in that class. Malfoy had swaggered into the classroom with a smirk, and came right over to Calla and Daphne's desks. "So, trying for a bit fame, Potter?"

She ignored him, taking out her parchment instead. She could see Daphne looking very uncomfortable next to her. "What, Potter? How'd you get your name in? I didn't think you'd have the skill."

"I didn't put my name in, Malfoy," she told him tiredly. "Go to your seat."

Malfoy just smirked. "Oh, come on, Potter. Who did it for you then, eh? I should have known you couldn't do it yourself; or was it your brother?"

"Neither," Calla said through gritted teeth. "I didn't want my name in there, Malfoy."

"Course you'd say that now," laughed Pansy Parkinson smugly. "Now you think you could get yourself killed. I bet you're scared."

"Leave her alone, Pansy," Daphne said loudly, looking up finally. "We all know you're just bitter because you fancy Warrington and wanted him to be champion."

"I do not," Parkinson scoffed, narrowing her eyes at Daphne. "What's got your wand in a knot, Daphne?"

"You," she told her shortly. "Just go away, Moody'll be here in a moment."

Pansy scoffed, strutting away to Millicent Bulstrode, and Malfoy lingered a moment longer. "What?" Calla snapped eventually.

"Nothing," he said. "Just wondering how you're going to do in the Tournament when you can't even pass this class."

"As I remember, you went to pieces in the exam last year," Calla replied coolly, determined not to let Malfoy get to her even though he had a very good point. "Not me."

"Ah, but who cried in the first Boggart class?"

She froze, looking up at him slowly, but it was too slow. "Draco," Daphne said sharply, and he turned to her. "Stop being such a prick and sit down. And apologise."

He rolled his eyes. "If you insist, Daphne. It's a wonder you didn't get your name in, too." Daphne gave him a pointed look in response and Calla just looked down at her parchment, cheeks burning. "Sorry, Potter," Malfoy said, very insincerely, as he swaggered off.

"Don't listen to him," Daphne told her.

"He's got a point," was all Calla said, swallowing deeply as Moody stumped into the classroom.

Things didn't much improve as the day went on. Ancient Runes, usually one of Calla's favourite subjects, felt awful. "You know I didn't put my own name in," she asked Zach, "Don't you?"

He looked uncomfortably over at Susan. "Well... Yeah, I guess."

She sucked in a breath. "You guess?"

"I know! I know you wouldn't." His hesitance worried her though. She wasn't sure she believed him. "But, you know... Everyone really wanted Cedric to get it."

"He did."

"Yeah," Zach said, "But you know all anyone's going to care about is you and your brother, not him. Not Hufflepuff." He scowled.

"We kind of have to support our own champion," Susan said, not unkindly. "But... Are you sure your brother didn't enter your names?"

"No!" she said sharply. Her voice was a little too loud. Professor Babbling looked up with stern eyes.

"Keep the volume down over there, please," she said. "I'm sure your discussion about Ogham Runes is most fascinating."

Calla looked down, cheeks blazing, and both Zach and Susan looked away, refusing to meet her eyes for the rest of the lesson. Only Saturday they'd gotten on so well, and something that wasn't even her own fault had suddenly ruined everything. She didn't even have the guts to say anything more to them, and at the end of class, hurried off to Ravenclaw Tower in the break with the full intention of curling up with Matilda on her bed and reading until she was forced to return to the rest of the school for Potions, which she was sure would be even worse.

As predicted, it was. She, Daphne, Zach and Hannah had been working as a foursome most of the year so far, but when they reached the classroom, Zach and Hannah had gone to work with Ernie MacMillan and Susan already, leaving them hanging awkwardly. "They're just being petty," Padma said, with a frown in Zach's direction. "Ignore it, give them some time and they'll calm down."

"I swear they think Harry put our names in," she said bitterly as they set up a station with her, Daphne, Padma and Isobel. "And they're going to support Cedric, over me, just because he's in their house, so they won't even admit that they agree I didn't put my name in! And the rest of them all think I wanted this!"

"Then tell them you didn't," Daphne said, though she gave Zach a rather furious look. Calla saw his cheeks go rather pink.

"And if they keep being rude, I'll batter them for you."

"Thanks, Izzy."

She was relieved when it came to lunchtime and Daphne and Isobel volunteered to get food for her, leaving her and Padma to hide out in one of the lesser tended courtyards. "It's just so annoying," she said, leaning her head on Padma's shoulder. "I didn't want this, but ... Even our own house don't all believe me! I don't know how they think I would do it, but apparently it's really not that much stretch! And even Zach-" She broke off with a frustrated noise, burying her face in Padma's shoulder. She petted her hair gently.

"I get it," she said slowly. "He should know you better than that."

"It's not even that! I think he does know I didn't put my name in, but he's not going to say anything to anyone else because he feels like he has to support Cedric instead of me. So he probably won't even stick up for me."

"If he acts like this, he isn't worth your energy," Padma told her. "You can do better than him anyway."

Calla made an annoyed sound and looked up, glaring at the trees. "I don't even like him like that, Padma! That's not it - it's just - it's rude!"

"I thought he liked you like that," Padma told her quietly.

"Well, he clearly can't have liked me that much," Calla huffed, folding her arms. "Or he wouldn't be such a - a- Ugh!"

"All boys are ugh," Padma said sagely, as Daphne and Isobel came across the courtyard to them. Her eyes brightened and she seemed to be smiling as she bumped Calla's arm, which comforted her a little. "Some are just better at hiding it than others."

Divination was also rubbish. Ron wasn't speaking to Harry or Calla - he still believed they'd put their own names in, which Calla thought was quite ridiculous - and so a great shuffling of seats had left Calla working with her brother and Padma, while Ron sat with Dean and Seamus and Isobel wound up with Lisa and with Neville Longbottom, who Calla was sure she'd never actually spoken to before, and they were both looking very awkward.

Trelawney also delighted that day in predicting not only Harry's tragic death, but Calla's. It wasn't that this was an uncommon occurrence, but knowing what was happening and who was conspiring against them... Well, it left a very sickly taste in Calla's mouth.

The next few days were all horrid, too. When Calla tried to talk to Zach and Susan in front of a crowd of Hufflepuffs, Justin Finch-Fletchley had rolled her eyes and accused her of lying, and that was the end of that because she didn't really know what else to say. Zach for his part looked like he was going to say something, then decided not to. He turned his back to stick with his housemates, and it hurt more than Calla really cared to admit. And it turned out a lot more of her house were willing to believe that Harry had put both their names in the goblet, which Calla thought was a ridiculous theory anyway, but left her feeling even more frustrated. "They're supposed to be reasonable!" she'd said to Padma after hearing one of the sixth years relay the idea in the common room. "Logical! What logical reason could there be for Harry putting both our names in the goblet of fire?"

"People are just in shock a bit still," Padma told her. "It'll wear off eventually and then they'll come round."

"They better," she said, and took reading through one of the books she could gather on past Tournaments, almost all of which ended in tragedy.

Harry was in a perpetually bad mood, too, which hadn't been helped by Remus' last letter warning him not to be foolish or rash - "What does he mean, foolish? What does he think I'm going to do? I'm not going to try and start the tasks early!" - or the fact that he had been almost worse than Calla at Summoning Charms, who had actually caused her pillow to fly away from her and quiver in a corner like she'd scared it. The only thing Calla was really looking forward to was the Hogsmeade visit before the first task, but she had a hard time feeling enthusiastic when it was just a reminder of how quickly her task was approaching.

She was trying as hard as she could to see what the first task might hold in store, but all she could see was that she would probably be involved in some dangerous fight, which could mean anything and would probably be inevitable in any year. She had seen a fish in a teacup, too, but that could mean good fortune and wasn't helpful when she needed to know how to get that good fortune. She didn't want to leave anything up to chance, but it was beginning to look like she'd have to. Even when reading on previous tournaments, she didn't get very far, for while they usually featured some sort of combat trial at one stage, and often incorporated magical creatures or beasts in other tasks, the previous tasks varied in their nature so much that it was impossible to try and figure out what she might be facing.

"At least none of the others will know what they're up against either," Daphne said to her, surprisingly rationally when she relayed her the issue in the dormitory before bed, while she was plaiting Calla's hair for her. "You won't be at a disadvantage."

"Yeah, except for the fact they're all three years older than me, proper wizards, and I can't do magic."

"You can so do magic," Mandy huffed.

"Didn't you see my Summoning Charm?" she retorted.

"Potter's right," Lisa said, and Calla couldn't help but glare at her. They weren't supposed to actually agree with her! Though she supposed she wasn't surprised. "What spells can you do?"

"None."

"You can," Padma sighed.

"Fine. I guess my counter spells are fine? And levitation, disarming, I can make a half decent shield?"

"Shields'll be useful," Sue mused from her corner. "They might make you fight each other."

"Nah, there's an odd number," Isobel said. "I reckon there'll be some sort of obstacle course. You said they were to test your daring?"

"Yeah," Calla said. "And I've got even less of that than I have magic."

"You're so annoying," Lisa told her. "You killed a snake in second year, Potter, stop exaggerating just 'cause you're scared now."

"You'd be scared too!" Calla snapped, and Daphne pulled accidentally at her hair. "Ow, Daphne!"

"It was an accident," Daphne huffed. "Look, you've still got time to prepare."

"Barely."

"All you need to do's brush up on some defensive spells, those are what you're good at. A disarming spell's simple and effective, or a stunner, right? And a cushioning charm if you fall so you don't break your neck."

"And how am I meant to do that?"

"You have six of the supposed to be smartest girls in the year with you," Daphne told her. "Though Turpin's debatable."

"Shove off, Greengrass."

"I appreciate the offer," Calla said tiredly. "But I don't think it'll do much good."

"We can only try," said Padma, cheerfully enough for someone who wasn't going to fight in a potentially to the death Tournament.

"We'll make a man out of you," Isobel said, winking, and Calla had to laugh.

"You'll do what?" Daphne said, frowning, and Calla couldn't help but smile.

"Nothing," she said, patting her hand gently. "It's a Muggle thing."

On Thursday evening, Calla had another Occlumency meeting with Dumbledore. Technically it was meant to count as a lesson but seeing as she was sure she'd never learnt anything with him, she was calling it a meeting now. "Have you been practicing?" he asked her as she sat down, looking around as she always did and grinning at Fawkes the Phoenix.

"A bit," she said. "But honestly I'm not sure what I'm meant to be practicing, sir, or how to know I'm practicing it right."

"Occlumency can be tricky to weigh," Dumbledore said gravely. "Often I find that calmness comes with the clarity of the mind, but other times I feel rather restless."

"I don't really feel either," Calla admitted. "I guess sometimes I feel calm, but then that feels weird, and I get distracted. Like..." She hesitated. "If I get too calm, it feels like I'm falling."

"A common symptom."

"Yeah, but then it scares me. Like I think I'm going to fall into, I don't know, another vision."

"And that isn't what you want?"

"I don't know. My body kind of jerks me out of it. But I don't always like having my visions, sir. Cause I can't control them, and they - they scare me sometimes." She considered for a moment telling him what she'd seen, but Dumbledore was looking at her very curiously and it made her too uneasy. "It just feels weird, sir."

"Miss Potter, you know I cannot teach you if you are unwilling to learn."

"I am willing," she said pleadingly, suddenly panicked. "But it's just I - I don't even know if it'll ever work! I'm focusing my energy into other methods of Divination and that - that is working better!"

"I believe Occlumency is still important for you, Miss Potter," said Dumbledore. "In some ways you may not be able to fully appreciate yet."

She didn't like that, and scowled. Usually when adults said stuff like that, it was because they thought she was too young to understand what they were saying. "I'm not saying I won't learn," she said impatiently. "I'm just... Taking a while."

"We all have our own paces," Dumbledore said, and she hated that even more. "I am considering asking Professor Snape to teach you instead. His approach may yield better results."

She tried not to pull a face. "Really?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "How about we try it out?"

"No! No, I mean... I'd rather continue like this."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Let us see how this lesson goes, then."

It didn't go well at all. Dumbledore spoke for a long time about how she had to let leave of all woolly thoughts and material feelings, and all she could think of was the Tournament, which she was certain he could tell. She didn't know what it was meant to achieve, but she could tell it hadn't managed to achieve it.

"I will think on this," Dumbledore said, just when she was beginning to feel empty headed. She blinked, startling back to the present. "Miss Potter, I do also have to ask... How are you preparing for the Triwizard Tournament?"

She bit back a sarcastic remark. "Not brilliantly," she said in a small voice. "But I'm going to work on defensive spells. They're my strong point."

"Good." Dumbledore steepled his fingers together. "I don't suppose you have any insight on how your name got in the goblet?"

For a split second she thought he was alluding to the idea that she or Harry had put their names in theirselves, then realised. "Oh. No, I - I haven't seen anything, sir. I don't know... It is something to do with..."

"Voldemort," Dumbledore said gently. "Use his name, Calla."

"Yeah," she said smally. "I know. I don't have proof, but it's like, I can feel it, and since Wormtail got away and - and it is him. I just know it is. But how, and who did it?" She shrugged. "I wish I knew."

"I know," Dumbledore said kindly. "If you get any further forward... Or if you do see anything that worries you..."

"I'll tell you," Calla said tiredly; she hadn't made sense of barely anything she'd seen recently, all she knew was that it made her feel bad, and scared, and she hated that.

Dumbledore nodded. "You may go, Miss Potter. It is late, and you have an important day tomorrow."

A panic went through her, the feeling she often got when someone reminded her to hand in an essay she'd completely forgotten about. "I do?" she blurted out.

Dumbledore smiled, eyes twinkling. "You will see. Nothing to be worried about. Goodnight, Miss Potter."