Author's note: Thank you to everyone who is following/favouriting/reviewing this story! Every time I see a comment or get the 'someone is following your story' notification I get this little bubble of happiness inside me, and it motivates me to write some more.

This will probably be my last post before Christmas. If I don't post before Christmas, I will try to get another chapter out before the year is finished.

But to all of you, Merry Christmas! I hope you enjoy the next chapter.

Harry usually liked Sundays. They were his days off; he got his homework done on Saturday and could relax on the weekend's other day.

But when he woke up that morning, he felt a crushing sense of sadness overcome him. For a blissful moment, he couldn't remember why; and then he did. The Triwizard tournament. He had been selected. As Captain. With Ron and Hermione.

Groaning, Harry rolled over and climbed out of bed. He got dressed as quickly as he could, which was not very quickly, as he was still exhausted from the events the night before. It took him a while to understand why his shoes weren't fitting right; he had them on the wrong feet. Harry sighed, fixing his shoes. Then once he was dressed, he walked over to Ron's bunk and shook his friend awake.

"Gerroff me," Ron moaned, lazily swatting at Harry.

"Ron, wake up," Harry said, not unkindly.

"It's Sunday, lemme sleep." Ron argued. He rolled over and thrusted his head under his pillow.

"C'mon." Harry said, a little sterner. "We need to talk to Hermione."

Ron paused a moment before answering. "Fineeeee." He yawned. "I'll be in the common room soon. I'll meet you there."

"OK," Harry said, and he left the room. He walked down the winding spiral staircase, into the Gryffindor common room.

Signs of last night's party were still visible. Gryffindor banners hung loosely, the intentional draped effect far too pronounced, creating a sad, hungover vibe. The food had disappeared, as had the drinks. The house elves must have come and cleaned in the early hours of the morning, because otherwise the common room was relatively clean.

Harry decided not to mention this to Hermione, and hoped she wouldn't realise herself. She would be scandalised at the extra work this involved, and how the house elves had to get up in the middle of the night just to take care of the Gryffindors' messes.

A few people milled about, but most were still asleep. Harry looked around for Hermione, hoping she would wake soon. He wanted to get breakfast as early as possible, to avoid the crowd. He wanted to avoid people for as long as possible.

"Hey."

Harry jumped, having not seen Hermione come up behind him. "Hey," he replied. He noticed she was wearing her sat hel and wondered why, but then he dismissed it as unimportant. "How're you this morning?"

"It doesn't seem so ominous, in the daylight. So I guess I'm feeling a bit more relaxed…" Hermione's voice trailed off. "Where's Ron?"

"He's getting changed. I had to wake him up vigorously. He didn't want to get up."

"I don't blame him," Hermione replied. Then she paused, twisting her hands together anxiously. She looked up at Harry, her eyes sad. "Things are going to be different now, aren't they." Her voice was flat. It wasn't a question.

"Yeah," said Harry. He decided to alleviate the tension with a lighthearted, positive result of their situation. "We don't have to take class as seriously this year."

Hermione looked at him, scandalised. "You can't mean that! Harry, you know that we sit our O.W.L.S. next year! The content we will learn this year is very important. It will help us with our O.W.L.S. and our end of year exams! Not to mention the Tournament!"

"Hermione, we don't sit our exams," Harry said, confused.

Hermione gasped. "Oh no!"

"What's wrong?" Ron interjected, coming down from the boy's dorm. He must've heard Hermione's gasp, Harry realised.

"Nothing," Harry said, emphasising the word. "Hermione's just disappointed about the end of year exams."

"What about them?" asked Ron.

"That we don't sit them." Harry informed him.

Ron looked at Hermione incredulously. "Are you mad? This is bloody brilliant! No exams, no study…"

Hermione adopted a haughty expression. "Good morning to you too, Ron." She said sniffly. "And while the break from exam stress is welcome-"

"You're the one who makes them stressful," Ron muttered.

"-the end of year exams are good practice for our O.W.L.S. and N.E.W.T.S. They give us experience in exam conditions, and practice at performing under stress, and a chance to shore up our weaknesses, and-"

"Yeah, yeah, we get the point," Ron interrupted. "Let's go and eat." Hermione harrumphed, yet she didn't say anything else.

However, Harry muttered to her on the way out the common room, "I'm sure Professor McGonagall would let you do the exams, if you asked her. But personally, I don't think you need to. You'll ace your O.W.L.S. regardless."

Hermione still looked upset, but a smile found its way onto he face.

As soon as Harry, Ron and Hermione arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast, the few Gryffindor students that were there already burst out into raucous applause. Harry felt himself going red, and wished he could disappear. The glares of the Slytherins he was used to, but seeing the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs that mad at him and his friends made Harry feel queasy and embarrassed. And the Gryffindors' praise was too much to bear.

"C'mon. Let's just go." Harry said. "It's not worth it."

"We have to eat!" Ron argued, amazed that Harry would say that.

Hermione didn't join in their debate; instead, she darted forward to the end of the Gryffindor table. A rack of toast was there. She grabbed a napkin and laid it on her palm. Then she pulled a piece of toast from the cooling rack and put it on the napkin. Harry and Ron quickly caught on, and the boys piled toast onto the napkin Hermione was now holding with both hands. Once they'd collects a few pieces each, Ron placed another napkin at the top of the pile. Hermione moved one of her hands to hold the top of the stack, and the other to hold the bottom of the stack, and then three hurried out of the Great Hall quickly.

"Let's go for a walk," Harry suggested.

"Good idea," Hermione said gratefully. The three headed outside and walked around the Black Lake, talking occasionally and munching toast. Harry watched the Durmstrang ship, moored in the lake, and wondered where the other Champions were. What they were doing. How they were feeling. Did they regret their decision, in the light of day? The sound of Hermione's voice brought him back to the present.

"Harry, I've been thinking. You know what we've got to do, don't you? The moment we get back to the castle?"

Harry looked at her blankly. So did Ron.

"Write to Sirius." Hermione said, like it was totally obvious. "You've got to tell him what happened. He asked you to keep him posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts, and I think this is really important. Plus, I want to hear his opinion on why we were entered…"

"Good idea," Ron appraised her. Harry saw Hermione smile a little at that, but he didn't have time to contemplate that; he had to dissuade the others from this ridiculous idea.

"No way," Harry said.

Hermione and Ron looked confused.

"When I wrote to him saying my scar hurt, he came back to the country. If I tell him all three of us are in the Triwizard Tournament, he'd come bursting into the castle to demand to see the Goblet, and that would-"

"-He'd want to know." Ron advised Harry.

"And he's going to find out anyway-" Hermione began.

"How?" Interjected Harry.

"Harry, this isn't going to be kept quiet," said Hermione seriously. "This Tournament is famous, and you're extremely famous; you're in half the books about You-Know-Who, and about the Dark Arts and Defence. The fact that you're in the Tournament; and that you're the youngest person to compete by three years…it's not going to pass unmentioned. I'll eat my quill if it's not in the Daily Prophet in the next couple of days. And Sirius would rather you tell him than he reads it in a newspaper, you know that…"

"She's right, mate," agreed Ron. Harry narrowed his eyes at his friend.

"Fine, OK, I'll write to him." Harry conceded. He took the last piece of untouched toast, well cold on the napkin in the chilly air, and threw it as hard as he could. It landed in the middle of the Black Lake, and floated there for a few seconds, before a large tentacle reached up and scooped it out of the water. The three stood there, watching the tentacle disappear again.

Harry paused, not wanting to break the moment of peace that had overcome them. He knew moments like this would be few and far between this year; with being Champions, the three would never get a break. He glanced at his friends.

Ron's face was tightened against the cold, his skin pale and his freckles quite visible as a result. He seemed oddly calm, but Harry knew he had taken the news the most lightly of the three. Hermione's features were more taught with worry, and her chestnut eyes were even darker than usual, displaying her anxiousness. Harry pulled his friends in for a hug, and after a moment, they both lifted their arms. They hugged for a few long moments, and then Ron broke away.

"Let's go send that letter," he said, and he began to walk back to the castle. The other two followed.

"We better write it first," Harry teased him. Ron's ears went his telltale red, and Harry grinned.

Once they arrived at the Owlery, Hermione handed Harry and ink pot, a sheet of parchment, and one of her quills. Harry had wondered why she'd brought her satchel with her that morning, but now he realised why.

"Can you fetch Hedwig, please?" Harry asked the others.

"You can't use Hedwig," Hermione replied immediately.

"Why not?" interjected Ron.

"Because Sirius said so in his last letter," Harry remembered. "She'll draw too much attention."

"You can use Pig," offered Ron.

"Thanks," Harry replied. Harry used his shoe to clear a patch of ground from owl droppings and feathers, and then sat down, leaning against the wall to write his letter.

"Do you want some help?" Hermione asked Ron quietly. He was trying to get Pigwidgeon to come to him.

"Nah, I'm all good. Not much you can do."

Harry noticed Hermione looked a little hurt, but she proceeded to wander around, looking at all the school owls, while Ron coaxed Pig down.

Harry turned his attention to his letter.

Dear Sirius,

You told me to keep you updated on everything that happens at Hogwarts, so here goes. I don't know if you know this, but the Triwizard tournament is being held this year, and it's in teams of three. On Saturday night I got picked as Captain of the fourth team. Ron and Hermione are also in my team. I don't know who put our names in the Goblet of Fire, because none of us did. Why do you think our names got into the Goblet? Hermione has a dark theory, but I hope it's wrong. She thinks someone is targeting me. What do you think? The other Hogwarts team is Captained by Cedric Diggory. (A Hufflepuff) He has another Hufflepuff and a Ravenclaw in his team.

Harry paused. There was more he wanted to say, but he didn't know how to phrase it without seeming crazy, paranoid or cowardly, so he left it off, instead signing away the letter.

Hope you and Buckbeak are OK,

-Harry.

He looked up. Ron was now being nipped by Pigwidgeon. "Ouch!" He yelled. "Pig!"

"Are you OK?" Harry asked.

Ron nodded but cursed Pig. "Bloody bird. He's too overeager, he wants the letter now."

"Just give me a moment," replied Harry. Ron sighed but nodded again.

Harry dipped the ink in the pot and quickly scrawled a post script.

P.S. Pig (Ron's owl; his name is Pigwidgeon, Ron's sister's choosing) will bite you if you don't give him your letter quickly, so for your own sake please write your reply quickly.

Harry nodded to himself and sealed the letter, scrawling Sirius's name on the front. Then he walked over to Ron and Hermione, who was also now trying to calm Pig.

At this point, Hedwig fluttered down onto his shoulder, holding out her leg for the letter.

"I can't use you," Harry replied. "You're too inconspicuous. I have to use a different owl."

Hedwig hooted in indignation and took off so suddenly her talons dug into his shoulders. Harry winced as Hedwig flew back up to the rafters. She kept her back to him for the rest of the time he was at the Owlery, occasionally hooting her disapproval.

"This isn't my fault," Harry said angrily to his owl.

"She'll come around eventually," Hermione said sympathetically.

"Harry, not being rude mate, but please hurry up. Pig's practically biting my hand off, stupid bird." Ron grouched.

"Sorry," said Harry, hurrying over to them. "Pig," he said to distract the owl, feeling rather stupid. "Calm down. I've got the letter." He passed it to Ron, who quickly attached it to Pig's leg. "Please take it to Sirius Black. It might be a long journey, so if you need to rest before you come back, you can." Harry looked at Ron to make sure what he said was OK, but Ron didn't object, so Harry stepped back.

Pigwidgeon hooted with delight and flew up. Then he glided out of the Owlery, and soared off into the distance, until he was a faint speck.

If Harry had thought that the school would adjust to the idea of him, Ron and Hermione participating in the Tournament over the next few days, the next day of classes showed him he was very much mistaken. He could no longer avoid interacting with people as he had to attend classes. It was clear that the rest of the school, like the Gryffindors, thought they had cheated their way into the Tournament, but the rest of the school, unlike the Gryffindors, did not seem at all pleased or impressed.

The Hufflepuffs of Hogwarts were usually on excellent terms with the Gryffindors, the Hufflepuffs not being the kind of people to hold grudges or judge too much. However they had turned remarkably cold towards the whole lot of Gryffindors. One Herbology lesson was enough to show Harry the divide. It was obvious that the Hufflepuffs thought Harry, Ron and Hermione had stolen their Champions' glory; a feeling perhaps caused by the fact that Hufflepuff house very rarely got any glory, and their Captain Cedric Diggory was one of the few people who had a managed to bring them glory, as he had defeated Gryffindor at Quidditch the previous year. The Gryffindors (and Harry) still blamed that defeat on the interruption of the Dementors. Harry would never stop feeling ashamed when he thought of that incident. Justin Filch-Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan, two Hufflepuffs Harry was always on good terms with, refused to talk to Harry, Ron or Hermione even though they were all repotting Bouncing Bulbs at the same tray-although they did laugh rather unpleasantly when one of the Bouncing Bulbs Harry was holding wriggled free and smacked him in the forehead.

"Oh, ha, ha. Very funny." Hermione sneered sarcastically, while the two Hufflepuffs laughed meanly.

"Hermione," said Ron quietly, laying a hand on her arm. Hermione went quiet and focused on the bulbs, and silence reigned at the table. Harry thought even Professor Sprout seemed distant with the three Gryffindors when she came to check their progress, but then again, she was the Head of Hufflepuff house.

Normally Harry would have been excited for Care of Magical Creatures, as this meant he got to be outside, and with his favourite teacher, but today he was dreading it, for it would be his first contact with the Slytherins since the Goblet of Fire chose their names.

It was no surprise to Harry that Malfoy arrived with a fixed sneer on his face.

"Ah, look boys, it's the Champions," he jeered to Crabbe and Goyle, the moment the three could hear. "Got your autograph books ready? Better get Potters' now, he won't last ten minutes into the first task, that's my bet. Don't bother getting the blood traitors', he's not worth it. And I wouldn't dirty your parchment with the Mudblood's signature either. With no real magical experience or talent, I bet she'll die five minutes into the first task she's in…"

Harry and Ron made furious moves towards Malfoy, who was grinning tauntingly, but Hermione whispered "Stop! Hagrid!" She motioned towards their friend coming out of his hut, who was carrying a ominous tower of crates full of Blast-Ended Skrewts. To the horror of the class, Hagrid explained that the reason the Skrewts were killing each other was because they were feeling 'trapped' and 'neglected'. Personally, Harry thought that the Skrewts just had violent natures, but Hagrid was naturally inclined to think the best of any beast. So his solution was to get the class to take the Skrewts for a walk. The only good thing about this dangerous task was that it distracted Malfoy from insulting them.

"Walk them? Take this thing for a walk?" He questioned disbelievingly, looking at the Skrewts with disgust. "Where can we even fix the leash? Around the sting, the blasting end, or the sucker?"

For the first time, Harry actually agreed with Malfoy, not that he'd ever admit it.

"Fix it roun' the middle," Hagrid corrected, in much the same tone as he'd used the previous year when telling them how to open The Monster Book of Monsters; as if it was so obvious he shouldn't have to point it out, as if it were as basic as blinking or breathing. "Er-yeh might want ter put on her dragon-hide gloves, jus' as an extra precaution, like. Harry-you come here an' help me with this big one…"

Hagrid's real intention, however, was to talk to Harry alone. Hagrid first helped the very reluctant rest of the class attach the leashes to the Skrewts. He saw Ron and Hermione brave the Skrewts first, for the same reason the three of them always volunteered in this class; to encourage Hagrid and the class alike. Once the class were off walking, Hagrid turned his attention to Harry, speaking very seriously. "So-yeh three are competin'. In the Tournament. School Trio."

"One of the school Trios," corrected Harry, feeling quite uncomfortable. Hagrid's beetle-black eyes pierced him, his anxiety showing. "Any idea who put yeh all in fer it, Harry?"

"You believe us? That we didn't do it?" Harry had never felt more grateful to Hagrid.

"O' 'course I do," grunted Hagrid. "Yeh say yeh didn' do it, an' I believe yeh. And Dumbledore believe yeh, an' all."

"It'd be nice to know who did do it, though," Harry replied miserably. "And why." He looked out at the class. They were clearly not having a good time, although the Skrewts appeared to be enjoying themselves. Often Harry heard a bang, and one of his classmates was yanked forward several paces by the Skrewts they were 'leading'. He saw Ron and Hermione walking together cautiously, a few paces apart, so their Skrewts didn't attack each other.

"He's all rea'y. Yeh can take him fer a walk now." Hagrid beamed down at Harry, handing him the handle of the leash of the oversized Skrewt that Hagrid had used as an excuse to talk to Harry alone. Harry had never wanted anything less than to accept the handle, but he did, because he had to, and because he knew Hagrid's smile would crumple if he didn't.

"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry lied, putting on a fake smile.

"Yer welcome," replied Hagrid cheerfully, clearly pleased. Harry steeled himself and set out for his walk. The Skrewt was walking in every direction, so he couldn't really control its path, although he tried to get it to head towards Ron and Hermione. Suddenly, the Skrewt BANGED and Harry was jerked forward, landing on the hard ground and skidding a bit. He winced; grass-burn was an injury where its pain was underrated.

"See? Potter can't even stand upright, there's no way he's going to survive the first task, let alone the Tournament!" Malfoy crowed teasingly. Harry glared at Malfoy as he stood up and dusted himself off.

"There's no need fer language like tha'," Hagrid instructed, giving Malfoy a stern look. Malfoy muttered something under his breath. Harry caught the words 'oaf' and 'no respect', and suspected it was probably about Hagrid.

A jerk on his right arm came from the giant Skrewt, who was moving again. BANG!

Harry had definitely gotten the feisty Skrewt. Just his luck. He sighed, picking himself up off the ground again, resigning himself to a very long, painful lesson.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

I have a question for you all. Do you like a regular posting schedule? For example, if I say I'll post every Wednesday, or every second Friday, or something like that? Because at the moment I write chapters when I feel like it, and I know that might be annoying for you, not knowing when the next one will come out. Plus, a schedule might be good for me, but then again I always feel my writing is better when I don't force myself into it.

Please leave a review including your answer to the question above.

:)

P.S. I know I write the word like 'OK' in this piece instead of 'ok' or 'okay'. I prefer write it 'okay', because that's how I like the word, but in the HP series it is always written 'OK', (I checked the books) so that's how I'll write it in this story.