Chapter 10: Under pressure

I spent the rest of the day in bed.

Annabelle came up for a while, hugging me while I cried into her jumper. Around nine that evening, Jermaine came up to our room with a bottle of Ogden's Old from the Three Broomsticks he'd bought that afternoon.

"Madame Rosemerta sends her love," he said, trying to stifle a laugh. "She could tell immediately who I was buying for."

"Probably because she knows I'm a fiend for firewhiskey," I said through my tears. Jermaine set the bottle down across from my bed, but I needed a drink now.

"Accio," I said, sending the bottle into the air before landing in my open hand. I opened it and put it to my lips, closing my eyes and taking a few long pulls.

"Easy, Malfoy," Jermaine said, eyeing me carefully. "Have you eaten since breakfast?"

"Nope," I said. "All the crying made me lose my appetite."

Annabelle and Jermaine exchanged looks. "How about we get you something to eat?" they asked, obviously concerned. I eyed them critically.

"It's past curfew, how're you going to get me any food?"

They smiled, then pulled me out of bed. I was in for a surprise.

"Guys, where're we going?" I whispered, slurring from the firewhiskey I'd consumed on an empty stomach.

"We're almost there! Trust us, you'll be wishing you'd known about this sooner," Annabelle whispered. "Jermaine, what did you say we had to do?"

"I think Weasley said 'tickle the pear,' but I can't be sure," he replied. My ears perked up.

"I don't want to do anything that either of the Weasley's told you to do," I slurred again. "Fred's already gotten me into a bit of trouble and I don't want more."

"Yeah, we heard about you two getting cozy at the Cup," Jermaine teased. "Not really a surprise, though. You're a looker, Cass, and you've got money. I'm wouldn't be surprised if Weasley was in love you for that alone."

"Jermaine, I don't want to hear about Fred Weasley being in love with me! That's the last thing I need to hear right now- "

"Shut up, the pair of you!" Annabella hissed. "We're here."

There we stood in front of a giant portrait of fruit. Confused, I turned to Annabelle.

"Why am I looking at fruit? I can't eat this fruit. Why did you two bring me here? Is this some kind of trick? Am I- "

"Belle, if you would," Jermaine whispered.

Annabelle stepped forward and tickled the large, green pear on the painting. It bounced and jostled and then transfigured into a door handle. She pushed down on it and let us through the portrait hole.

"Okay, we walked past the fruit," I said, still slurring and having trouble standing up straight. "Where are we headed now?"

"Here we are!" Annabelle exclaimed proudly. "Hello, you lot!"

I looked around wildly to see who she was addressing. There, standing before me, were dozens of house-elves. Suddenly, I heard my name.

"Miss-Miss Malfoy?" I heard a tiny voice squeak out. I looked down.

"Merlin's beard," I exclaimed, a bit too loudly. "Dobby? Is that you?"

"It is! It is Dobby, Miss Malfoy! Oh, how pleased Dobby is to see you! Dobby hasn't seen Miss Malfoy in many years! A happy day this is for Dobby, a happy day indeed!"

I laughed, stumbling as I bent down to meet the little elf's gaze. Dobby was my family's house elf for years, until Harry Potter freed him with a dirty sock in a diary belonging to Voldemort. My father wasn't too pleased, but I was happy to see Dobby freed and away from how horribly my family treated him. When I was a little girl, I would sneak into our kitchens and talk to Dobby; I would read him stories about the outside world and he would make me all the blueberry pie I desired. Even then, my parents would always scold me for being kind to him.

"Dobby, you look wonderful," I said, eyeing his clothing carefully. He'd managed to fashion a teal tea cozy into a hat, a pair of children's athletic shorts, a horseshoe-printed tie, and mismatched socks. I would have to get him new clothes for the holidays, or maybe find him an old shirt of mine to wear.

"Miss Malfoy, your friends say that it has been a most difficult day for you, and that Miss Malfoy might want to be cheered up with her very favorite treat," Dobby said, revealing a huge blueberry pie on a wooden table. My eyes widened as I drunkenly lunged for the pie, shoving it into my mouth with a fork.

"It's just as amazing as I remember it," I said between bites. "You're the best, Dobby, don't you ever forget it. Oh, and one more thing: you've been free for years now. I'm not Miss Malfoy anymore. I'm Cassie to everyone, but especially to you."

Dobby blushed, then smiled knowingly at Annabelle and Jermaine. I went back to my pie, content in the fact that I had the best friends in the entire wizarding world. Even in my sadness over Daniel, I was over the moon that I had them.

Sunday meant receiving class schedules for the start of the school year. I woke up late, having spent a good few hours in the kitchen talking to Dobby, then drinking more Ogden's in my dorm, but I managed to scramble down to the Great Hall around nine to have a bit of breakfast and see what my schedule was like for the year.

When I reached the Great Hall, I stopped in the doorway, trying to catch my breath. God was I hungover. As I ambled toward the table, I made very awkward eye contact with Professor Snape, our head of house.

"Decided to join your classmates, Miss Malfoy?" he asked in his usual monotone. I nodded, unable to form words yet. He handed me my class schedule and I snatched it from him before he stalked off, his black robes billowing from behind him like a bat's wings.

I eyed my scheduled critically, scanning to see what classes I had and with which houses. I had Transfiguration and History of Magic with Ravenclaw, which meant I'd be seeing Daniel on Tuesdays, but Divination, double Potions, and Charms with Hufflepuff on Mondays, which meant hanging out with Cedric. Not bad for my last year in school.

I scanned the rest of my schedule and saw that I had Potions again on Friday. I smiled. I was looking to become a Potioneer after school ended, and last year, I practically had to beg Professor Snape to let me get some practical potions experience before I set off into the real world. By the look of my schedule, my pleas convinced him.

"Now that you've decided to grace us with your presence, Miss Malfoy," I heard Professor Snape's voice behind me, "I wish to discuss your schedule with you."

I looked up at him, eyeing him critically. It was no secret that Professor Snape verbally abused nearly every student he ever came in contact with, including me. However, when I had the dreaded career discussion with him in fifth year and told him I saw myself making a career out of potionmaking, I swear he almost cracked a smile.

"I've spoken to Professor Dumbledore about this matter and he seems to think that you would benefit with more intensive potions experience, given your chosen career path," he continued, his voice continually monotone. "You will assist me during my Friday morning Potions classes for the duration of the year. Friday morning classes are with the first-year students. Seeing as how patience is a virtue you somehow manage to possess, the headmaster and I both feel you would do…exceptionally in such a setting."

I raised my eyebrows. "I'd be delighted, Professor. I look forward to it."

He stared down his ever-greasy nose at me. "Very well. I ask that this week, you organize the potions storeroom in preparation for not only my first-year class, but for all of them."

My eyes widened, disappointed. "Really? You're going to make me- "

"You would do well to keep your mouth shut about the tasks I assign you, Miss Malfoy," he said. "I heard all about your antics in the common room Friday evening, as well as your unfortunate familial situation. Were it not for the headmaster's request and your own…impassioned pleas last term, I wouldn't have taken you on. I expect the stores to be cleaned and organized by the start of my first class tomorrow."

"What time is that at?"

He glared at me. "Eight. Sharp," he said, before turning on his heel and striding away.

As I trudged off to the potions storeroom, I heard a voice and footsteps behind me.

"Cassie! Wait up!" Cedric called from behind me. I turned around and smiled at him.

"Hello, you," I said. "You get your schedule yet?"

He nodded. "Divination, double Potions, and Charms on Mondays with you, Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, and Arithmancy on Wednesday, Muggle Studies with Ravenclaw on Tuesday…Merlin, I've forgotten the rest."

I giggled. "Well, at least I'll have you in Potions again. Snape's actually letting me assist him during his Friday class with the first-years. Part of my 'practical potionmaking experience' before I get an apprenticeship."

Cedric's eyes widened. "Well, that's great Cass! I know you tried to convince him last year, I'm really pleased you're getting to do it!"

"Yeah, well, it's not all sunshine and roses," I said defeatedly. "My first task is to clean and organize the storeroom before tomorrow at eight. If I don't start now, there's no way I'll sleep. Not that I'd probably be sleeping anyway. I don't know if you heard."

Cedric smiled sympathetically. "I did. I'm sorry to hear it."

I shrugged, trying to play off how bad I still felt. "Has he said anything?"

He shook his head. "Guys don't really talk about that stuff. And besides, you know him. He tends to bottle up the important stuff and bury his nose in a book or his journals. All I got out of him was that it was over."

I nodded. I don't know what else I expected.

"Look," he said, reaching out to pat me on the shoulder. "He's my best mate, but so are you. Whatever happened, you know I'm here for the both of you. No matter what."

I smiled. "Spoken like a true Hufflepuff. I appreciate that, Ced, I really do. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a potions storeroom to organize. See you at dinner?"

He nodded. "See you at dinner."

We both turned to go our separate ways, but I turned around, remembering something.

"Hey, you give any more thought to entering that tournament?" I called down the hall.

"No!" he called back. "And I don't care how much you're going to badger me – I'm not doing it!"

Dear T,

The first month (well, almost two months) of classes have flown by like you wouldn't believe. School is alright – I'm assisting Professor Snape in his first-year Potions class (Dumbledore wanted me to – said I could do with more practical potionmaking experience) and Defense is keeping me on my toes. If you have any stories or advice for dealing with Mad-Eye Moody, do let me know. I heard he practiced Unforgivable Curses on his fourth-year class and almost made someone have a breakdown (I think his name was Longbottom?).

Daniel and I broke up pretty much the day we got here. I'm fine. It was for the best and had nothing to do with a certain F. Weasley. In fact, I've barely even seen Fred since school started. To be honest, there were rumors floating around about us 'getting cozy at the Cup,' so I thought I should avoid him altogether.

That's me, I suppose. Do give your mum and dad my love and write back when you can. I'm sure I'll have plenty more news when the Triwizard Tournament kicks off.

Love,

C

I tied the letter to Tonks to Lyra's foot and sent her on her way. It was getting dark out, so I jogged back to the castle from the Owlery as quickly as I could.

When I arrived at the front of the castle, it appeared that the entire student body was standing outside. After a few minutes of pushing, shoving, and searching, I found Annabelle and Jermaine.

"Did I miss something? What's going on?" I asked over the chatter of the hundreds of students congregated outside.

"The other schools are arriving tonight! Beauxbatons and Durmstrang," Annabelle said. "Where have you been?"

"Nowhere," I said, fidgeting with my wand in my pocket. "Just sending a letter."

After a few minutes, everybody craned their necks to see whoever was headed toward the castle. I stood on my toes to see what everyone else was seeing – to my shock, I saw what appeared to be giant, blue, flying carriage being pulled by a dozen flying horses.

"So, they've brought Pegasus and his siblings," I remarked. "Hagrid's probably thrilled."

Jermaine snickered. Professor McGonagall turned toward us and shot all three of us a stare. We promptly shut up.

When the carriage touched down, a boy in sky blue silk robes emerged, then held the door open for dozens of silk-clad students, boys and girls who couldn't have been younger than sixteen. Leading them out of the carriage was the tallest, most elegantly dressed woman I had ever seen; she was really tall, taller than Hagrid, and her hair was in a sleek, black bob and glittering opals and diamonds lay around her neck and fingers and hung from her ears.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin," Annabelle whispered, burying her face in my shoulder. I turned to her, shaking her off me.

"What's the matter?" I asked. She barely looked up at me.

"I just saw her," she whispered. "The witch. From the summer. The one I…"

"NO!" I hissed. "You can't be serious! Which one is she?"

"The tall, blonde one," Belle replied.

"Belle, they're all tall and blonde."

"Alright, alright," she said, picking up her head ever so slightly. "There! To the right of their headmistress. There she is."

I craned my neck. Next to the Beauxbatons headmistress, Madame Maxime, was a slender young woman with silvery-blonde hair and the most perfect teeth I'd ever seen. I could see why Belle was so attracted to her, and so embarrassed to see her again. She was absolutely stunning.

"Right, now you really have to tell about what happened over the summer," I whispered, before Jermaine tugged on my arm.

"Oi, you two! Look at the lake!"

We both turned our attention to the literal pirate ship that had just emerged from the Black Lake. It looked like something out of a storybook; all skeletal with crimson and black flags hanging from the masts. The ship glided to the shore of the lake, where its passengers began to disembark. The students who came off the ship were all boys with dark, wavy hair and perfectly trimmed facial hair. Their immaculate grooming stood in stark contrast to their robes, which were made of a dingy, dark, matted fur.

Their headmaster, on the other hand, was clad in silver fur to match his hair.

"Dear old Hogwarts," he said, bearing his yellowing teeth in a smile. "How good it is to be here."

When I finally got a good look at who was next to their headmaster, I gasped.

"What?" Jermaine and Belle asked. I turned to them.

"You see the boy next to the Durmstrang headmaster?" I whispered. "That's Viktor Krum!"

Now that there were at least one hundred more students in the Great Hall, dinner was full of chatter. I could barely hear myself think over all the voices, some of whom were speaking in different languages.

Despite the sensory overload, I was thrilled. This really is once in a lifetime, I thought. Getting to meet all these witches and wizards who are so different from me.

After dinner and dessert had passed, Dumbledore stepped up to his usual podium.

"The moment has come," said Dumbledore. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket, just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year."

He then introduced two men from the Ministry of Magic; Ludo Bagman, who I'd seen at the World Cup, and Barty Crouch Sr., the head of International Magical Cooperation. Bagman and Crouch were quite the pair standing with Dumbledore; Bagman looking like an overgrown leprechaun in his deep green robes and Crouch, wiry, unsmiling and perfectly groomed, looking like the picture of austerity.

After a few more introductions, it was time.

"The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch," said Dumbledore.

Filch brought forth an enormous, jewel-encrusted, wooden case and placed it before Dumbledore. He tapped three times on the top of the casket, and from it emerged a large, wooden goblet with blue flames emanating from the top.

"The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire," he said over the crowd. "Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it in. Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools."

He then explained that an Age Line would be drawn around the goblet to ensure that no one under seventeen would enter. Across the room, I could see Fred and George Weasley already plotting.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly," Dumbledore said solemnly. "The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

I got up from our table and weaved through the crowd to find Cedric.

"Haven't had a change of heart, have you, Diggory?" I asked, eyeing him.

He shook his head. "No way, Cass. I'm not sure I have the nerve to do whatever it is their planning."

I punched his arm playfully. "That's such rubbish! You have the most nerve of anyone I know. Besides, there are, what, a few hundred seventeen-year-olds at Hogwarts? How many of them are going to enter? The chances of our names getting picked are really quite slim, when you think about it."

He rolled his eyes. "You haven't convinced me, Malfoy."

I tightened my grip on his arm. "Come on, Ced. I really don't want to enter alone."

He cocked an eyebrow at me. "Don't tell me you're scared! Are you scared?"

I shook my head. "I'm not! Swear it on Merlin's saggy left-"

"Alright! Before you finish that sentence," he paused, "I'll do it. I'll put my name in with you."

I squealed with delight, throwing my arms around his neck in a hug. "Tomorrow at five, meet me here. We'll do it together. Promise?"

He nodded. "I better not regret this, Cassie!

"You won't!" I called back to him, taking off toward the common room.

The day passed rather quickly. I spent all day thinking about how I was about to throw my hat into the ring for a chance at eternal glory and a thousand Galleons. It probably also meant I had a death wish, but that was a problem for another day.

Around four, Snape asked me to inventory the lacewing flies, Ashwinder eggs, and beetle eyes in the storeroom before I left for dinner. I begrudgingly headed to the potions storeroom, flung open the door, and found two ginger-haired thieves.

"What the devil are you two doing in here?" I spluttered, grabbing Fred and George by their collars and shoving them out of the storeroom. "What did you take? Hand it over."

"Relax, Malfoy, we know you're not going to tell on us," Fred said, smirking.

I cocked an eyebrow. "I'm Snape's assistant now. It's my job to inventory this storeroom, and if anything goes missing, he'll have my head."

The both laughed, clearly thinking I was joking. I crossed my arms and stared them both down.

"If you two don't hand over what you stole, I can fetch Professor Snape right now and you can tell him yourself."

"We didn't steal anything, Malfoy," George said. "Just curious about a certain ingredient in one of our potions from class today, that's all."

I eyed him carefully. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Fred starting at me, his eyes glued to my body.

"I know the exact amounts of every ingredient in this storeroom. I'm going to inventory this entire closet right now, and I swear Fred and George, if I find something missing, I'll tell Professor Snape it was you, and you'll probably end up doing detention with me."

"Doing detention with you?" Fred asked. "I might just give myself up now!"

I glared at him. He winked at me, and I tried to hide my smile.

"I'm going to find what you stole, and when I do, you're going to wish you were never born. Now, get lost, the pair of you," I said, slamming the door to the storeroom in their faces.

I leaned up against the door and closed my eyes. Why is it that he's infuriating and downright gorgeous at the same time?

I gasped, shocked that I'd even thought that.

"Shut up, Cassie," I muttered to myself. "You hate him. You hate him. You hate him."

When I finished inventorying the storeroom without finding anything stolen, I headed down to the Great Hall, where Cedric was, no doubt, waiting. When I rounded the corner and walked in, I saw him waiting with Gethin, Annamaria, Annabelle, Jermaine, and about a dozen others. When they saw me, the hooting and hollering began.

"Attagirl, Malfoy!" Jermaine said, patting me on the back.

"Make Slytherin proud, Cassie!" Belle called.

I smiled at Cedric.

"You ready for this?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. He smiled a big, goofy smile.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he replied.

Together, we wrote out names on tiny pieces of parchment, then joined hands, jogging to the middle of the hall and up to the Goblet of Fire. All around us, people were cheering. We stepped over the Age Line and faced the goblet. I turned to him.

"Ready, Ced?" I called, loud enough for all to hear.

"Ready, Cass!" he called back, grinning from ear to ear.

Our hands still joined, I lifted my left hand and he lifted his right. We smiled at the crowd of our friends, took one final step forward, and dropped our slips of parchment into the goblet. The blue flames rose for a moment, then dissipated.

Cedric and I stepped away from one another, me curtseying to him and him bowing to me, laughing as we did. Suddenly, the sound of cheering increased tenfold. I looked over to the door of the hall to see Fred and George jogging in, high-fiving their friends and acquaintances along the way.

"What exactly are you two doing here?" I asked incredulously.

"We're throwing our hats in the ring, Malfoy. Much like you," said George.

"You can't," I said matter-of-factly. "I don't know if you were even listening, but-"

I stopped short, noticing the little green vials in both of their hands. I stepped closer to them.

"What the- Ageing Potion?" I roared. "AGEING POTION?!"

"That's right, Cassie," Fred said, poking me in the ribs. "One drop of this and we're a few steps closer to eternal glory."

"One drop of that and you could be halfway to the grave, Weasley. What the hell are you thinking, brewing Ageing Potion, no doubt with ingredients you stole from the storeroom?" I asked. My face was pure anger. They had a lot of nerve, the pair of them.

"Relax, it's a pathetically dim-witted plan, which is why it's bound to work," Fred explained, like I should've known better than to question him.

"Take it from someone who's about to go brew potions for a living," I said, a tiny bit of concern shining through. "You don't want to mess with Ageing Potion, especially if you've never brewed it before. I'm serious, Fred, that was incredibly stupid."

"Alright, alright," he said. "Say we don't take it. Think you could sneak our names in?"

"Absolutely not," I responded, my arms crossed again.

"Right. What's it going to take to change that 'no' to an 'absolutely, Freddie, anything for you'?" he asked. He was not flirting with me right now.

"Nothing at all, because I'm not doing it," I said, turning on my heel and heading for the door.

"I'll do your Defense homework for a month!" he called back to me. We were bargaining now, it seemed.

I turned back to him. "Defense is my best subject, next to Potions. Try again."

He cocked his head, considering. "I'll prank your brother for a month straight."

"I can do that on my own. Again."

"Ever thought you'd want a pranking partner?" he asked.

"Never thought about it. I'm a lone wolf in the prank department."

He paused, considering again. He handed George his vial, then strode over to me, until we were only a few feet apart. I looked at the floor, visibly uneasy.

"I'll take you on a date."

For a second, it felt like my heart had stopped.

"What?"

He smiled. "I'll take you on a date. Pick a weekend. We'll go wherever you like. Actually, we'll probably just have to go to Hogsmeade. I know you can Apparate, but we can't do it inside the castle walls-"

"You've read Hogwarts, A History?"

"Is that what you're taking away from this conversation? Whether I've read Hogwarts, A History?"

I shook my head, trying to conceal my laughter. "What if I don't put your name in? Do your…generous offers still stand?"

He smirked. "Ah, see, that's entirely up to you, Cassie. Entirely up to you."

Before I could utter a response, he pursed his lips, then turned back to his brother, grinning.

"Ready, Fred?" George asked.

"Ready, George," he replied. "Bottoms up."

I shook my head, unable to even look up. If this backfires…

By the roaring of the crowd, it must not have. That is, until the goblet aggressively spat out deep blue flames, sending Fred and George flying across the Great Hall. When they stood up, they both had long, shaggy, white beards. The Ageing Potion had aged them a bit too well.

"I did warn you," Professor Dumbledore said, out of nowhere. I could see his eyes crinkled up in a smile, trying so hard not to laugh at them. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours."

Clearly embarrassed, they took off running for the door, but Fred turned around to face me.

"Still want to go on a date with me, Malfoy?" he asked, yelling across the hall. When I got an good look at his beard, I burst in a fit of laughter.

"I can't take you seriously with that beard! You look like Dumbledore!" I said, gasping for air. "Go put yourself back to normal and then maybe I'll give you an answer."

The beard made it hard to tell, but I could see him smiling like the fool that he was.