Hey all! Fourth year is definitely the point where we diverge from canon if you haven't been able to tell yet. The timeline is still going to slightly reference canon, but it won't be followed closely. I'm posting a day early, since I know I won't be able to tomorrow. For those of you who are celebrating, Happy Labor Day!

Disclaimer: I own nothing about the amazing world of Harry Potter.

My excitement didn't last long. In fact, it only lasted until supper the next night when the Triwizard champions would be selected. The entire school was buzzing with excitement. Those who had put their names in the Goblet of fire, while also excited, had an undercurrent of nervousness. Sitting down at the Gryffindor table, I watched as Dumbledore started to make the announcements.

"The time has come to announce our official Triwizard Tournament champions. If your name is called, please come and stand in front, and you will all be escorted to the lounge to discuss what comes next. Good luck!"

He stopped down towards the Goblet, and within moments the fire flared, and out came a slightly burnt piece of paper, gently floating down towards Dumbledore. He grabbed it out of the air, and announced the first champion.

"From Beauxbaton's, we have Miss Fleur Delacour!" Fleur stood up, smiling, and made her way to the front through an abundance of applause, especially from her classmates and the males in the room. The room settled as Dumbledore once again approached the Goblet.

This time, grabbing the floating paper, he read, "From Durmstrang, Mr. Viktor Krum!" The boys from Durmstrang were rowdy, banging their canes and yelling in excitement for Krum. Krum was rather stoic, but held a hint of a smile as he walked towards the front of the hall. My eyes met Erik's from across the room, and I made a face towards him, expressing how our well laid plans just went to hell. He smiled and gave a small shrug. Looks like we'd be trying that again.

Finally, for the third time and the anxiousness of Hogwarts, Dumbledore approached the Goblet to announce our champion.

"Lastly, from Hogwarts, we have Cedric Diggory!" The Hufflepuff's cheered the loudest, but the entire school was thrilled. Cedric was very well liked.

Dumbledore began to address the champions, "Now, if you would all please follow Professor McGonagall-" Before he could finish, the Goblet of Fire lit up, flames raging high, and a fourth paper flew out with force, catching Dumbledore by surprise. I watched his expression as he read the paper. His face, just for a moment, flashed with dread, before he put on a neutral expression and read, "Harry Potter."

The entire room started to whisper, and I looked towards Harry, as most people did. His face was as pale as a ghost, and he sat frozen in shock. "Harry Potter!" Dumbledore shouted a bit louder. I grabbed Harry's arm, as Hermione got his attention. He stood, shakily.

"Harry." I whispered to him. When he looked my way I told him, "It's going to be okay. We'll figure this out." As he nodded and started to walk towards the other champions, I tried to give him a reassuring smile, but I felt ill. Hermione looked to feel the same way as me. McGonagall ushered all the champions away as Dumbledore addressed the room.

"You may all be dismissed for the evening." Then he hurried to follow the champions. The room was still buzzing with a mixture of excitement for the champions, and the curiosity of Harry's name being called as students filed out. I looked at Hermione.

"This can't be good. How did it even happen?" I asked.

"Godric, Ana. I don't know. Poor Harry." While Hermione and I looked worried, Ron looked pissed. Before I could say anything to him, Erik caught my eye, because he was walking towards us.

"Well. This just got more exciting." He said with raised eyebrows. "Who are you going to cheer for Granger?" She was flustered and made some noncommittal noise before grabbing Ron and heading to the Gryffindor tower. Erik looked at me.

"Guess we're going to need to rethink those plans, eh?" He winked, and I couldn't help but laugh a bit, regardless of the worry I felt.

"All that hard work for nothing. Not to mention the time wasted."

He furrowed his eyebrows, "I'm not too upset about that. This just gives me an excuse to spend more time with you." This threw me off. Not that I ever doubted the fact that Erik was flirting with me, he just seemed to take on a more serious attitude.

"I suppose that's true." I said with a shrug. "Although I'm sure there's plenty of others you'd like to spend time with."

"Not really." His answer caught me off guard. Before I could respond he continued, "Ana, I want to make something abundantly clear. I'm interested in you. I enjoy flirting with you, and I like the challenge of you not just giving into me, but I do want to spend time with you and actually get to know you." During his speech, he had stepped closer to me, standing in between my legs as I was still sitting on the bench. He brought his hand up to my face, using his thumb to stroke my cheek. "I'm definitely going to be busy helping Vik, but I will make time for you. I hope you are interested in the same."

"Erik, are you sure? Things are a bit complicated with me. I have a very traditional pureblooded family, and I'm also one of Harry Potter's best friends. Those are two very different lines that you'd have to toe between. I'm not saying I'm not interested in getting to know you. I mean, you're stupidly attractive, so it's not like it'd be a chore to spend time with you." I joked trying to lighten the mood. "I just want to make sure you know what you're getting into."

Erik stepped even closer, practically flush against me. My thighs were on either side of his legs, spread just a little too far to be decent. His hand on my face moved to my chin, his grip was forceful as he moved my head to make me look into his eyes as he bent just slightly. My breath caught. "I know what you are saying. The slightest hint at my interest and your father could be contacting my family for a marriage contract. There are traditions us purebloods must uphold, and I don't plan on gifting you expensive jewelry. I won't do anything that can be misconstrued as showing my intent. And it doesn't matter that I'm Krums friend, just like it doesn't matter that you're Potters. We can still be seen together, but it doesn't have to seem more than casual conversation. My sweet, you don't need to worry. I know how to be a pureblooded gentleman in public. However, whatever we get up to in private is between you and me. No one else has to know. If you want to rebel against the expectations and opinions of others, just let me know. I am more than willing to assist." He bent even farther, and whispered in my ear. "I want to know how you taste." His lips skimmed my outer ear, and I shivered. I had never felt this way before. My face was flushed, I knew that for certain. The hair on my arms was standing on end, and I felt a pressure in my lower stomach. It was an ache that I had never experienced.

Erik pulled away and I was able to breathe again. "Take all the time you need to decide, Ana. I'll be here. Would you like me to walk you back to your common room?"

I shook my head. "No, that's okay. Thank you though." I gave him a small smile and he nodded and walked away. I needed space to process what in the hell just happened. Walking back to the Gryffindor common room, I took the opportunity to think. It wasn't that I never talked about boys, or that I thought they were attractive. It was just only ever talked about with Ginny and Hermione. Ginny was younger, so she didn't really have any experience or anything more than looking and appreciating cute boys from afar. Hermione wasn't overtly sexual either. Not saying that she wasn't interested in boys, or didn't experience the desire or the need to feel wanted, but she never talked about it. It wasn't like I could speak to a family member either, seeing as how it was just Father and Theo, neither of which I would ever talk about boys, relationships, or anything more with. The only other person I could think of that I had any type of relationship with, that I wouldn't be completely mortified to express my feelings to, was Narcissa Malfoy. Which in itself was an issue because I hadn't spoken to her in years. I didn't think Narcissa would turn me away, nor tell anyone my personal business, but it still was uncertain, because Merlin forbid Lucius get and open the post before her. Then I would truly be screwed. Knowing I could handle this by myself, but not really wanting that, I decided to write Narcissa and hope for the best. Either way, I suppose I would learn where exactly I stood with the witch.

Entering the common room, I was met with an inquisitive Hermione. I just shook my head and went to sit by her.

"Are you at least, okay? You look a little shaken up." She asked.

"I'm alright. Something to talk about on a girl's night."

"Well, don't tell Ginny because she'll invoke one right this minute." I chuckled at that because I knew just how true that would be. Luckily, I was saved from having to further dodge questions when Harry walked through the portrait.

"Harry! Are you alright? What happened?" Hermione questions.

Harry shook his head and began to explain just exactly what happened.

"So, what you're saying is that it doesn't matter that you're underage, the Goblet chose you, so you have to compete?" I asked at the end.

"That's exactly what I am saying."

"Oh Harry." Hermione hugged him, and I squeezed his arm in support.

"You know Hermione and I will be there for you Harry. Always."

"Thanks. I know. Have either of you seen Ron?" Who knew that Harry asking that was a foreshadow to how the next coming months would go. Ron didn't believe that Harry didn't want to compete. That Harry got someone to put his name in for him. Ron was an idiot. Harry already has fame, and anyone that knew Harry knew he hated it. I tried to keep telling Harry that, but it didn't help much. The hurt he felt by someone he considered his best friend turning their back on him wasn't something easily pushed aside. I understood that well. There was no love lost between Ron and I, so I didn't really care about not speaking to him. In fact, if I didn't have to talk to Ron Weasley ever again, I wouldn't be upset. But I was a glutton for punishment. Hermione had tried and tried to get Ron to forgive Harry, or at least talk to him, but Ron was stubborn. The distance was killing Hermione, because she loved both boys, so when she came to me asking if I would try and talk to Ron, I couldn't help but to agree. Which led me to where I currently was. I waited until after dinner one night, when the rest of the Gryffindors were headed back to the common room to try and speak to Ron one on one.

"Weasley. Can I have a word?" I asked, proud of my polite tone. He turned to look at me with confusion, surprise, and dislike. It was actually funny to see, but I kept my amusement hidden as he stopped walking with Seamus and Dean and stood across from me in the now empty hallway.

"What do you want, Nott?"

"A word, like I said. I'm not going to pretend like you and I are friends. We get along for the most part in front of the others, but you don't like me, and that feeling is reciprocated. That said, there are people that I care about, that happen to care for you as well. It's because of them that I dare even ask, why are you so mad at Harry? Why can't you talk to him?"

He scoffed and it took everything within me to not punch him in his stupid face. "Really? Of course, it's about Harry. Everything is always about Harry, innit? Hermione has tried, and it didn't work so what makes you think you can say anything different to change my mind? Poor Harry just happens to have the chance for eternal glory and wants to cry about it. Not bloody likely." I could hear the disdain dripping off of every word, but it was one line that caught my attention. I knew exactly why Ron Weasley was mad at Harry, and it was pathetic.

"You really are thick aren't you Weasley? You want to know why I'm trying? Because I'm not afraid to hurt your feelings, or call you out on your pathetically fragile ego. Not everything is about Harry, but you're too busy with your head stuck up your arse to realize that. Hermione is a mess about this. Harry is a mess because of this. And why is that? Because they care about you and are thinking of you! They value your place in their lives, for some gods forsaken reason. As for poor Harry, you're bloody right poor Harry! Why in the absolute hell would Harry Potter want eternal glory? He already has it! He's the Boy Who lived for Godric's sake. Every witch and wizard for years to come is going to know his name. He doesn't need any more fame or glory. If you even knew your friend, you would know that he despises fame."

"Yeah right, who would despise fame?" He asked sarcastically.

"Probably the kid found fame by having his parents murdered. Harry would give up every ounce of fame and attention if it meant bringing his mom and dad back. How dare you question that? How dare you blame Harry for any of this? His entire life has been filled with pain and loss. While you grew up in a safe and happy household, Harry was locked in a cupboard under the stairs. He was abused in almost every way there is. He never knew love until he came to Hogwarts. Yet you have the audacity to say poor Harry? You are a despicable person, not worthy of anyone's friendship. Fuck you, Ron Weasley." I was raving at the end and Ron was struck speechless. Unfortunately, I couldn't really feel satisfaction because from behind me I heard the voice of one of the last people I would have wanted to hear my rant.

"That's quite the speech you gave Miss Nott." He drawled. "However, it is completely reprehensible for such language to come from a young lady. Ten points from Gryffindor for use of unsavory language. Also, ten points from you Mr. Weasley for loitering in the hall. You may go back to your common room while I have a word from Miss Nott." Ron scurried off, tail between his legs, as I turned to face my least favorite professor.

"Professor Snape." I acknowledged. I kept my face neutral, not giving away to the nerves I was feeling. I have no clue as to why Snape would want to talk to me.

"In the future, keep your little Gryffindor quarrels contained to the Gryffindor common room. No one cares to hear such drivel. Do you understand Miss Nott?"

"Why is that something that I just needed to hear?"

"I find you to be the most competent Gryffindor, and as such I expect you to heed my warnings. I'll not bother wasting my words on Weasley when I know they are pointless." I nodded, not being able to disagree with him. "Now head back to your common room, without any more fanfare. Do you understand?" Withholding the eyeroll I felt like giving, I nodded and turned to make my way towards the common room when he stopped me by calling my name. I turned to face him once again.

"Five points to Gryffindor for telling off Weasley. It was refreshing to hear." With that, he turned and stalked off. I couldn't help the disbelief I felt, and the slight incredulous laugh. I went straight to my dorm, shaking my head at Hermione when she asked how it went with Ron. I gathered my supplies and went to take a much-needed shower. Life has been crazy lately. There were the obvious issues with my friends, and knowing they were stressed caused me stress as there wasn't much I could do to help. Moody was still a grade A arse, and his dislike for me was clear. I didn't care, and I would gladly do everything all over again. I had sat with Neville one night, while he cried into my shoulder and told me how disturbing it was to see what his parents went through. He had nightmares of himself watching his parents be tortured, for weeks. I said the only thing I thought might help.

"They'll get theirs one day, Nev. That much I know for sure. You can't put such evil out into the world and escape scot-free. One day. One, sweet day, their actions will come back to haunt them. The only thing we can hope for, is that we are there to witness it. What you sow, you shall reap."

At the time, I was trying to help Neville, but I couldn't help but think about my father. I couldn't wait for the day he got his, so I could breathe freely and finally stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. That feeling was increasing daily, because of one Mr. Erik Petkova. He had made a point to, at least once a day, acknowledge me. Whether it was a casual touch in the halls, a wink across the tables, or my personal favorite, the smoldering look he would shoot at me in the library when we were planning new ways for Hermione and Viktor to spend time together. His foot would nudge mine under the table. Our knees would rub against each other, or he'd tuck my hair behind my ear when it would get into my eyes. It was all very sweet, but had an underlying heat that burnt in the most amazing ways. Not to mention, he kept up his little pet names, calling me his sweet little princess. I didn't let it go any further, because I still hadn't sent a message to Narcissa to get her opinion. Deciding that was what I was going to do that night, I finished my shower and made my way to my bed, pulling out paper and a quill. I wasn't sure what exactly to write because I didn't really know what I was feeling. I liked Erik. He was ridiculously attractive. I wanted him to make a move. I wanted him to kiss me. In fact, I wanted him to push me up against the wall and mold our bodies together so I could feel every bit of him, and I wanted him to snog me properly and thoroughly. But that's also where my hang up was. I was raised traditionally pureblood, which means engaging in that type of activity would be terribly uncouth of me. Not that I cared about adhering to the traditional pureblood standards, but I couldn't help but feel a little ashamed of how much I wanted it. I think what I really wanted was understanding, and the acknowledgement that it was okay to feel that way. That it's okay to want that, and to take what I want. With that in mind, I began to write.

Dear Narcissa,

I imagine this letter is rather surprising, and for that I apologize. I have found myself in a predicament and am in need of a female's perspective. You are the closest thing I still have to a mother, and while I know we are estranged, I was hoping you'd still find it in your heart to hear me out, and provide advice.

There is a boy. Really, he is a man, as he is technically seventeen. He has been expressing interest in me, and I must admit that interest is mutual. I find myself unsure how to proceed. He has been a complete gentleman thus far, however, I don't want him to be. Therein lies my problem. I know it isn't appropriate to engage in such activities, but when have I ever done what was appropriate? I find myself torn between what I want, and how I will be seen. Would it be so terrible to finally let myself feel something positive for once? To feel free in my choices? I don't know what to do, Narcissa, and I could use your help. It would mean more to me than you could possibly know.

I feel the need to request your silence on this matter to anyone other than the two of us. No Lord can know of this. Please. The consequences if they found out would not be pleasant. I'm sorry that this is the reason why I have written to you for the first time. I do think of you, and I hope you are well. I miss how things used to be, back when Heaven was on earth. Even if I don't hear from you, I wish you the best. Either way, please burn this letter after reading.

With Love,

A.N.

I would love to know any thoughts and opinions from you lovely readers on how you like, or don't like, this story! Thank you to everyone who has left any comments, kudos, etc. It means a lot, and I really do appreciate every little bit.