Without the need to brew two nights a week or worry so much about the Tournament, Calla found that the next week went by much better, were it not for one thing. Despite celebrating along with everyone else after the Second Task and half-heartedly joining Isobel's attempts to lead a chorus of "We Are the Champions" in the common room, Daphne had been oddly quiet to both Calla and Padma. Both had an idea of why, though neither was willing to actually say so. And what with Sue's insistence on interviewing Calla and Padma for a piece in the Ravenclaw newsletter (which Daphne had only commented on to say that no one ever read it anyway) and Daphne's newfound enthusiasm for helping to feed hippogriffs with Isobel, the three girls barely had a moment together until Wednesday evening in the dormitory, when Daphne simply walked in, rifled around her drawers for a scarf and swept out of the dorm again, muttering something about going to see Theodore.

"Let her be mad if she wants," Calla said to Padma, who looked like she was going to either cry right then or run after Daphne and cry there. "It isn't our fault."

"But she's upset," Padma said fretfully. "She's upset with me!"

Calla sighed, meeting her friend's eyes. "I know. She'll get over it."

"What if she doesn't?"

"She will," Calla said as calmly as she could, even though the idea terrified her, too. "We've been friends for years. That's not the sort of thing that just falls apart because of one thing."

Padma still looked worried, but every chance she took to try and speak to Daphne, she was blown off frostily. "If it helps," Terry told them after one such occasion on Friday, she won't tell me what's up either."

"Of course she wouldn't tell you," Padma snapped at him. Terry looked taken aback - Padma was rarely snappish. "We know what's wrong, it's just... Calla, explain."

Calla did not know how to explain. She deliberated her words for a long moment before sighing. "Can you just tell her to talk to us? Or tell Isobel to tell her to talk to us."

"Like I could tell either of them anything," Terry muttered, before shaking his head and hurrying off after Anthony.

Padma looked closer to tears than ever. "She's our friend! Why won't she talk to us?"

"Because she's being ridiculous," Calla said, putting her arm around Padma's shoulders. "For now."

Neither Calla nor Padma were really keen on the idea of confronting Daphne, and although Ron said he'd give her a talking to, Harry agreed that she was being totally ridiculous, and Hermione sat with a look of both judgement and consideration, they also knew they had to say something at some point, because after a week and a half of Daphne icing them out, speaking clippedly and stiltedly and looking herself like she was going to either shout or cry, they were all feeling the strain.

They found her in the dormitory on Tuesday night, while she was curled up on her bed pretending to read Spellman's Syllabary. Her cheeks were a little blotchy, and she was stroking Matilda's head absently, staring out the dark window. Calla felt the same painful sort of awkwardness she'd felt when trying to speak to Zach about Rita Skeeter and the ball, as she steeled herself, shut the door quietly, and sat down on the edge her bed to look over at Daphne. She and Padma exchanged nervous, uncertain glances, and Padma urged Calla on.

"What's going on?" she asked quietly.

Daphne didn't look up. "Nothing much. What's going on with you two?"

Sighing, Calla squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to just speak.

"You've been avoiding us," Padma said bluntly.

"Have I?"

"Yes. We've all noticed."

She smiled fakely. "Well, I'm glad you two have been gossiping about me."

"Stop doing that," Calla said softly.

"What?"

"Just... That. You don't sound like you."

"Don't I?"

Calla didn't know what to say or where Daphne was trying to make this go, and her next words were hesitant, "What aren't you telling us?"

"Nothing," Daphne said. It was too quick to be the truth.

"Daphne," Calla hesitated over her words, "we've been worried."

"You haven't been speaking to me," Padma said in a small voice.

"Oh, poor Padma." Her voice was sharp, and Padma looked stung by the bitterness. "I'm sure you two don't need me anyway."

"What?" Padma's eyes were wide and worried, and Calla could see tears trembling in them.

"It doesn't matter." She closed her book with a snap, causing Matilda to leap off the bed and nuzzle against Padma's leg. "See, even your cat has a favourite."

The words made Calla freeze for a second, they were so bitter. "You - what? Favourite?" Comprehension dawned on Padma, then gave way to confusion. Calla stared between them, frowning. "You think - what, Padma's my favourite or something?"

Daphne laughed derisively and without any real humour. "Well clearly someone does." She stood up abruptly but Calla took her hand pleadingly. "I don't care, Calla. It's fine."

"If it was fine we wouldn't be having this conversation," Calla said, still slightly bewildered. "Daphne, you know I didn't get to choose who they took? I didn't even know they were going to take a person!"

"Well the judges still chose her!" Daphne said, eyes swimming. Padma didn't seem to know what to say in response, only frowning in confusion and hurt. "And they're right, because it's always been you two! You two whispering and sharing looks and not telling me what you're talking about! And it's fine, I get it. She's your best friend."

Padma looked wounded. "It's not like you don't talk to other people," she said. "You're always hanging around with Izzy or Terry or Anthony!"

This only served to make Daphne cry harder. "They're my friends but you - you guys are my best friends and I don't want to drift away from you but it feels like you've made up your mind that that's what's happening!"

"Of course we haven't!" Calla said. "That's... Completely irrational."

"Don't you tell me I'm being irrational!" Daphne cried shrilly, getting to her feet.

"Daph," Padma said slowly as she pulled her down. "We don't... We want to be your best friends. We are your best friends."

The cold calm of Daphne's face cracked as her eyes darted wildly between the pair, almost like she was scared of what she was saying. "I don't even know how to talk to you two."

"What do you mean?" Padma asked, worry clouding her face. "You can always talk to us."

Daphne shook her head. "I can't. You don't get it. There's all this stuff with Theo, he's been distant ever since the ball and he won't tell me why, and I'm worried about him. And it's just... They all think I'm being stupid, worrying about Muggle Studies." There was a sort of vulnerability drawn in her face that Calla hadn't seen in a long time. "I said to them at the ball - Theo and Pansy and everyone - that, you know, I want to go into Muggle Liaison work, and they just laughed. And it was stupid to say it because I knew they would but it's not - I know I've never been what my parents wanted me to be and I'm scared! Because I'm meant to be with Theo and have a relationship with him and I'm trying but neither of us really want it, and I know that what I do want is - it's never going to happen!"

"What do you mean?" Calla asked slowly, struggling to take all of that in.

"It doesn't even matter," Daphne said tiredly, sinking down onto her bed. There were tears glistening against her cheeks.

"Yes it does," Calla told her, sitting down with her. Padma took the other side, wrapping a tentative arm around Daphne's shoulders.

"Talk to us," Padma murmured, face creased with worry and care.

"I just... Want to be me. Whoever that's with and whatever I'm doing, I want to study what I want to study and go where I want to go and believe what I believe. And my parents have been more, I guess, accommodating to me? Once they got over me not being in Slytherin and falling out with Pansy and the others. I'm meant to still be their friend but... I don't even know if I am or if I'm just someone they have to keep around. And my parents, they still wouldn't like it, I don't think, if I did decide to go into working with Muggles. They just want me to be like Astoria, and to just not care and do as I'm told!" She seemed to shudder a little. "But I can't! And no one gets it. It's like - they think that this is just some phase and some hobby and they think that, you know, in a year's time or whatever I'll do my O.W.L.s and then I'll give it up and do what they want me to and I know I have to, and it's what's expected of me, and what's always expected of me. But I don't want it!"

"Oh, Daph," Calla murmured, pulling her friend in for a hug as her eyes welled. "I'm sorry."

She was shocked to hear Daphne's muffled crying on her shoulder. "It's fine," she kept saying, now that she had gotten her words out, as though she thought that would erase them. "I'm fine."

"You know you're way more than just someone we have to keep around," Calla told her. "And you always will be and you always should be. Because you're bloody amazing, Daphne."

"I don't feel amazing. I feel bloody stupid."

"Why?"

"Because - I don't know! I just do! I shouldn't be crying! I don't cry! I hate crying!"

"Sometimes you have to cry," Padma's said, stroking her hair. "You have to talk to people."

"We both love you, Daphne. Anything you need - that's what best friends are for. It doesn't matter who some teachers think is best to drag to the bottom of a lake. The three of us are best friends. I can't imagine you not being our friend. You know we both love you. It doesn't matter to us what you think you're meant to be, you're our friend no matter what."

Daphne let out a loud sob and turned around so she was facing Padma. Without any further warning, she threw her arms around her, crying. "I'm sorry," Daphne said in a rush as she released her. "I'm sorry I haven't been talking to you, I was upset because you're my b-best friends and I was upset that they choose you and not me but-" She sobbed again moving as she dragged Calla into their messy hug. "You're both my best friends too and I love you."

"I'm sorry too," Padma said quietly, the words quick to her tongue. "If you were upset-"

"It wasn't your fault," Daphne said. "I upset you!"

"Yes, but only because I upset you!"

"But I shouldn't have been upset!"

"I'm sorry!" they both said again at the same time. Calla broke into a grin as all three girls leaned in, pressed together.

"I love you guys," she said quietly. "I hate when we aren't talking."

Daphne grabbed her hand, then Padma's. "I know."

Padma beamed at her, all prior hurt seeming forgotten so quickly by both girls. "Then let's promise we can always talk to each other, right?"

Daphne nodded somewhat shakily, and Calla grinned. "Promise."

It was strange, Calla thought, how quickly some friendships could repair themselves. The next day it was as though nothing had ever happened at all - except now Padma and Calla both knew a lot more about Daphne's issues with Theodore, Draco, Pansy, and her family than they had thought existed - and the three girls were already planning a trip to a cafe of Daphne's choice for the Hogsmeade trip on Saturday. Calla wasn't totally sure how this could manage to fix itself while she and Zach still hardly spoke, but she couldn't complain. The sun felt brighter than it had in almost a fortnight.

Calla and their friends spent that Thursday evening all sitting up in the boys' dormitory, chatting about the Tournament and the latest non-Tournament-related gossip and classes and how, in Lisa's opinion, it was "entirely unfair" that Calla didn't have to sit end of year exams. "I think the Tournament would be hard enough," Daphne said. "Calla could beat those exams any day, anyway."

Calla flushed. "You know I couldn't."

"With the amount of work you've been putting into the Tournament? You totally could."

"Well," Terry said, "I'm nervous about the exams. I'm still wretched with Switching Spells, and I have no idea about antidotes."

"You do so," Isobel told him, rolling her eyes. "At least you haven't made another cauldron blow up."

"Yeah, but that's because you wanted it to," Padma pointed out.

"No, I just wanted to see what would happen if I added extra Bubotuber Pus. And I found out!"

"You're all ridiculous," said Lisa. "All of you."

"Oh, Lisa, you're so sweet." Lisa glared at Calla half-heartedly and she grinned.

"Listen," Anthony said suddenly, sitting up from where he'd been lounging on his bed, "I reckon we've all something we're struggling with. And there's only a year and a half until the O.W.L.s. I still haven't seen anything except fog in a crystal ball."

"To be fair, I don't think most of us have," Padma admitted with a slight scowl. She'd said to Calla already that she would have dropped it if she didnt feel bad about leaving Calla to Ron and Harry, who unlike Padma, weren't even really trying to See anymore. "Except Calla, of course."

"Yeah, except I can't do anything but Divination."

"Oh, do shut up," Sue told her. "You're not bad at Ancient Runes, or Potions. Look at what you did in the Second Task. I'm the one who needs help, did you see McGonagall's face when I turned that hedgehog into a pufferfish? I thought she was going to murder me!"

"Exactly," Anthony said, and everyone stared at him. He flushed. "Well, no, not - not exactly... We're all crap at something, aren't we? And we actually all did pretty well that time we were helping Calla before the First Task. So we were thinking - Terry and I - we might as well do it again. Terry's brilliant at History, Michael at Ancient Runes, I'm not bad at Herbology. Sue, we all know you're great at Potions, Calla's practically made for Divination, Daphne is excellent at Charms and Muggle Studies, Padma, you know loads about Transfiguration... We've all got something we can contribute, right? So I thought, it'd make sense if we pool our knowledge. And once Calla, you know what your next task is, we can help you practice again!" He was grinning like he'd thought of the best idea in the world. "It works for everyone!"

"Well," Lisa said, "I suppose I am pretty good at Arithmancy." Even Daphne didn't laugh, though she did exchange an amused look with Calla. "I say it's a decent enough idea, if we all contribute equally." She seemed to be looking at Michael as she said this, before her eyes turned to Calla. Calla glared back until she looked away. "I say we do it. I'm sure Flitwick will help us find somewhere again, where we can all practice."

"Why do I have a feeling this is going to go terrible wrong?" Daphne muttered to Calla, who shook her head.

"I think it could work," she whispered back. Then she said, louder, "I will have to work it around my schedule-"

"Yes, Calla's in very high demand."

"Shut up, Lisa."

"But," Calla said loudly over the two of them, "yeah. I'll do it. I mean, I don't really know how to help with Divination, but I can try, and I guess there are other things I'm alright at, too."

"Well, then I suppose we'll do it, too," Padma said. "We would have been helping Calla anyway, after all."

They exchanged smiles, as the other girls all nodded. "Perfect," said Anthony proudly. "How about we try to find somewhere this weekend, I'll ask Flitwick if we can use his classroom. We could start on Monday?"

Michael was the only one who looked slightly like he was going to protest, but didn't dare when all the others were in agreement. "Monday, then," Mandy said, and took out her diary to carefully pencil it in next to Frog Choir rehearsal. "You had all better be helpful. I don't want to fail the Runes final again."

Xx

On that Friday morning, a ruffled and rather resentful looking owl landed in the Great Hall in front of Calla, holding a letter out to her before flying away as far as its wings could carry it.

Well done on the second task, the letter read. Sirius and I are coming to visit you on Saturday on your next Hogsmeade visit. Meet us outside the Three Broomsticks pub at two o'clock.

Remus

It was short, but Calla got the point. She folded the letter and stuffed it in her pocket; looking across the hall, she could see Harry had gotten a letter of his own, likely Sirius telling him the same thing. "What does it say?" Padma asked, turning around, but at that moment Daphne let out a gasp of surprise and was thrusting a glossy magazine in front of their faces.

"What's this?" Calla asked.

"You really read Witch Weekly?" Padma asked Daphne, wrinkling her nose.

"Yes, that's not the point. Look at the article." She folded the page over and Calla stared in shock at the headline.

HARRY POTTER'S SECRET HEARTACHE

"His what?" she said, quite bewildered, her eyes combing the article.

A boy like no other, perhaps - yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, left only with his long-suffering sister for company, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had finally found solace in his steady-going girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would soon be suffering another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss.

Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have developed a taste for famous wizards that Harry Potter cannot satiate. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the Quidditch World Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affection. Krum, who is openly smitten with affection for the young girl, had already asked her to join him at his home in Bulgaria over the summer holidays and insists that he has 'never felt this way about any other girl'.

However, it may not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms which have captured these two unfortunate boys' interests.

'She's really ugly,' says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious girl fourth-year student, 'but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it.'

Love Potions are of course banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers hope that, in the meantime, he will choose to bestow his heart on a more worthy candidate.

"That bitch," Padma said, glowering at the article. "What's Hermione done to her?" She looked at Calla. "What have either of you done, or does she just like to make people miserable?"

She pointed her wand at the magazine and it promptly burst into flames, crumbling to ash on the table. "There were some really good hair tips-" Daphne broke off her protestation at the look on Padma's face. "No, you're right."

"Thank you." Padma shook her head. "That thing's a rag, anyway, if they've got Skeeter writing that rubbish for them. First Harry, and then Calla, and Hagrid and now Hermione." She fixed Daphne with a cold look. "And I take it you saw what Parkinson said?"

Daphne's cheeks reddened; she did look shocked. "I had no idea she'd..." She shook her head. "I can't believe them. I just don't get the point of it." She glanced over at Lisa and Mandy, who were both also poring over their copies of Witch Weekly.

"If you ask me," said Luna Lovegood's dreamy voice from behind, making Calla jump, "that thing's all nonsense. Daddy says Rita Skeeter's been possessed by a gossiping gulpee. We only print the truth at the Quibbler." Then she smiled innocently and skipped away and Calla stared after her.

"Well," Daphne said after an awkward moment, getting to her feet, "we should get to Herbology early. I need a word with some people."

She left the Great Hall so quickly that Calla and Padma had to scramble to follow her, hurrying out the door and down the path. A cluster of Slytherins were already stood outside of the greenhouse, huddled around something which Calla was sure must be Witch Weekly. Millicent Bulstrode cackled loudly as Parkinson whispered something to her and Rhea Flint, who laughed loudly and mimed buck-teeth.

"Pansy!" Daphne yelled across the grounds, stalking down over the hill. Parkinson turned, seemingly startled, as did Malfoy who was standing nearby with Crabbe and Goyle.

"Ah, Daphne," Pansy greeted with a smile, "seen the article yet?"

"What were you thinking?" Daphne shouted to her. "What's Hermione ever done to you?"

Parkinson sneered. Calla saw Flint back away, towards the other girls who were all watching Daphne and Parkinson nervously. "Let's see. She's a brat, she's a Gryffindor, and she's a Mudblood."

"She's my friend," Daphne said sternly and Parkinson laughed.

"Don't be ridiculous, Daphne. Just because you've got your weird little obsession with Muggles doesn't make them your friends."

"Shut up," Daphne snarled, hand going to her wand. "You don't know anything, Pansy. Just because you don't care about Muggles doesn't mean we're all as close-minded."

Parkinson's eyes hardened, and Malfoy came over to her side, eyeing Daphne. "Careful," he warned her, "you might start sounding like a Blood Traitor. Though I suppose..." Hi: eyes flickered to Calla. "It might be too late for that."

"You're going to apologise," Daphne said coldly, even though her voice shook a little, "to Hermione."

"Granger?" Parkinson cackled.

"Yes. Hermione. And you're going to shut up about my friends. I thought the two of you might have matured a little, but you haven't. And you're wrong, you know. About everything. About Muggleborns and Muggles, all of it."

Malfoy and Parkinson both laughed, but Calla could see their eyes flicker to her, to the way she and Padma both stood behind Daphne, hands instinctively on their wand. "What's it to you, Daphne?"

"It was lies, and you know it. More than that, it was mean."

"Did it hurt little Granger's feelings?" Parkinson mocked worry. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

Calla could feel her face heat up in embarrassment and anger; Padma placed a steadying and on her shoulder. "Say it like you mean it," Daphne muttered. "Both of you. I'm not - I'm not letting you hurt my friends anymore just because you think you're better than them."

"We're your friends, Daphne," said Malfoy in a low voice. "Or have you forgotten your place? Do you want to live with the Muggles?"

Daphne seemed to falter for a second. "Leave them alone," she said finally, and then turned on her heel and stalked away to the other end of the greenhouse. Calla and Padma exchanged glances and then hurried after her, glaring at Malfoy and Parkinson as they went.

"Don't listen to them," Padma said. "Don't."

Daphne stewed quietly all throughout Herbology, and when they reached History of Magic, which they shared with Gryffindor, was in quite a temper. "Hermione," she said lowly as they all filed inside, "you haven't been reading Witch Weekly, have you?"

Hermione just stared at her, which was all the confirmation Calla needed. She sighed and gave Harry a worried look. "There's... Skeeter's written an article about you, and Harry, and Viktor Krum."

"She's done what?" Harry spluttered.

"Let's see it then," Hermione said, quite defiantly. "What nonsense has she managed to cook up for me?"

She looked at Daphne expectantly. "Padma burned my copy."

"It was garbage, anyway."

"Oh, brilliant," Hermione huffed, but Padma had already managed to procure a copy from her sister and her friends and showed it to her.

"You ought to see it before you see the Slytherins," she told her, and Ron and Harry exchanged wary glances as they read.

"I told you you should be careful," Ron hissed to Hermione once they were done. "They've painted you out to be some - some sort of - scarlet woman!"

Hermione giggled shrilly. "Scarlet woman?"

"It's what my mum calls them," Ron muttered, cheeks red, and Calla and Daphne both laughed.

"Well, if that's the best she can do..." She handed the magazine back over to Padma, who gave it to Parvati. "It's a load of old rubbish."

Calla thought that might have been the end of it as they took their seats together. Professor Binns started his lecture before everyone had even sat down, and they took to taking notes - or, in Calla's case, finishing off some Ancient Runes homework and drawings. They were about ten minutes in when Hermione whispered suddenly to Harry and Ron, "There is something funny about this. I don't see how Rita Skeeter could know all of this."

"Know what?" Ron asked quickly, and rather loudly. Lisa and Mandy both turned around to glare at him and he went red. "You haven't been making up Love Potions, have you?"

Daphne snorted from behind them. "Don't be stupid," Hermione huffed. "No, it's just... how did she know he asked me to visit him over the Summer?" She flushed bright red as she said this. "After he'd got rid of his shark head, Madam Pomfrey gave us both blankets and then he pulled me away from the judges so that he could speak to me." Calla nodded, remembering. "So they wouldn't hear. And then he said to me, that if I wasn't doing anything over the Summer, would I like to-"

"And what did you say?" Ron demanded. Calla glared at him as Hermione flushed even harder.

"And he did say he'd never felt the same way about any other girl before," she admitted, "but how could Skeeter have heard him? She wasn't there... or was she? Maybe she could have used an Invisibility Cloak... maybe she snuck into the grounds to see the Second Task..."

"And what did you say?" Ron asked, voice harsher this time. Padma muttered something to Daphne and rolled her eyes.

"Well, I didn't really get time to answer because then you came out of the water with Harry and I was too preoccupied with that to reply. But I don't know how Skeeter..."

She trailed off. "I've been thinking about that too," Calla admitted in a whisper. "The conversations between me and Zach and Hagrid and Maxime happened on the same night at the Yule Ball but she wasn't there. And if she had been, there was that conversation between Snape and Karkaroff, too... But she didn't say anything about that... But I don't know how she'd get close enough to hear and we wouldn't realise-"

"Can you please shut up, Potter?" Lisa finally snapped, turning around. "Your voice is annoying me."

Daphne stuck out her tongue at Lisa and Calla rolled her eyes. "I don't care, Lisa," she whispered tiredly, but she stopped talking anyway; everyone had turned to look at them except for Binns, and her cheeks burned for the rest of the lesson.

Still, she couldn't get what Hermione had said out of her head. It seemed Skeeter must have been hanging around the school to get her information, but no one had seen her - that meant there must be someone feeding her information, like a mole. But who could have overheard all of those conversations? She couldn't think of anyone, which frustrated her deeply. Skeeter had to be doing something to get all this information... But what? Calla found her mind spiralling as she thought of every recent conversation, every worry she'd had over the past few months. She thought of Daphne and the worried she'd confessed, she thought of the nights she spent with Trelawney and Dumbledore sharing her frustrations and her visions, and felt suddenly sick. The articles Skeeter had already published had been bad enough, but how much more might she know?