"Mr. Bagman!"

"Darcy, my dear! A pleasure to see you! An absolute pleasure! You know, I was just thinking about you earlier today about whether or not I'd get a chance to speak with you, and here we are!" Ludo Bagman brings Darcy's hand to his lips, taking his seat between Professor Snape and Karkaroff. As soon as he settles himself in his chair, Ludo smiles pleasantly at Snape. "Severus, surely you wouldn't mind switching me seats, would you? Darcy and I have so much to catch up on!"

Professor Snape shoots Darcy a cold look before standing and switching seats with Ludo Bagman. Darcy grins as Ludo settles down beside her, mopping his damp forehead with a handkerchief, positively beaming. He pats the top of Darcy's hand and begins to load his plate with food, foreign delicacies that she realizes are not always offered during meals.

"I had no idea that you were going to be here tonight," Darcy says, passing Ludo a platter filled with a dish she's not at all familiar with.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, darling!" Ludo replies happily, offering her some food from the platter. "Have you ever eaten foie gras before? It's delightful, but very rich."

"Oh, er—no," she replies, allowing him to scoop a small chunk onto her plate. "What is it, exactly?"

"Duck liver," he tells her matter-of-factly, and Darcy gives him a sideways look that he misses completely. "Now, I hate to prematurely spoil surprises, but I feel that now is the perfect time to tell you—Barty and I are going to be judges for the tournament!"

"You and Barty?" Darcy stabs reluctantly at the foie gras, hesitating before taking a small bite. It's very rich, and tastes like it's been cooked in a vat of butter. "Oh, this is quite good."

"Isn't it?" He smiles at her, pleased by her reaction. "Have you not met Barty Crouch yet? I'll introduce you after the feast." When Darcy shakes her head, Ludo leans closer to her, lowering his voice and gesturing with his head down the staff table. "He's the dour-looking fellow sitting by Minerva."

Darcy leans forward, looking down the table. Ludo hadn't been exaggerating—Barty Crouch is certainly dour-looking, his hard face deeply lined, while at the same time lacking smile lines altogether. He's the complete opposite of Ludo Bagman, his dark hair streaked liberally with gray, parted very severely. His upper lip is adorned with a gray mustache, thin and well-groomed, and among the eccentric wizards and witches seated along the staff table, he looks quite out of place. She doesn't voice her opinion to Ludo, but Darcy doesn't think she'd very much like to engage Barty Crouch in conversation, for fear of being bored to death.

"How are things at the Ministry?" she proceeds to ask Ludo, choosing to eat something a little less rich than the foie gras. "I overheard Mr. Weasley saying it was mayhem after the World Cup."

Ludo looks almost as serious as Barty Crouch in the moment. "It was absolute mayhem, he had the right of it. We're in the clear now, I think, and things have settled down, but with the Triwizard Tournament approaching . . ."

"No rest for the wicked?"

A smile graces Ludo's face once more. "I do like you, Potter." She catches him looking fondly at her, and when he realizes she's looking back, he quickly returns to his meal. "I'm glad to see you're doing well. I was so worried for you after everything that happened—I was as shocked as you were, of course. What a fright!"

Darcy doesn't look away from him. Ludo isn't particularly handsome (maybe he was once, many years ago, but not so much now), yet he's not terrible to look upon. But this serious and solemn expression does not suit him, and it does nothing to improve his appearance. She fights with herself between keeping silent or continuing with light conversation versus diving right into it and asking what she wants. After all, Ludo might give her the truth—he had been the one who found her during the attack at the Quidditch World Cup, and he had come to her defense when cornered by Rita Skeeter at the Ministry.

"I'm doing as well as I can be," she says finally. "Has the Ministry been investigating? Has anything come of it?"

Ludo sets his silverware down and wipes his mouth with his napkin. "Darcy, I couldn't tell you that if I knew. I don't think the Minister would very much appreciate me sharing confidential information to anyone, even you!" His tone is not cold, but it's no longer friendly. "I think you forget yourself, my dear."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Bagman," Darcy says, noticing the way he fidgets uncomfortably in his seat. She doesn't look away from him.

Lowering his voice even further, Ludo continues. "However . . . the general consensus is that it was an isolated incident, meant to spark panic. There is no evidence to support You-Know-Who's return beyond the sighting of the Dark Mark, and even then, many believe the Death Eaters to be a flock of cowards, having fled the scene after seeing the sign of their old master."

Darcy nods slowly. His words offer her little comfort and even make a chill run down her spine, but she has a more pressing question to ask him. "Do you see much of the Aurors? I was wondering if you had seen my friend around. Her name is Emily. She was at the Quidditch World Cup with me."

Ludo looks thoughtful for a moment, and knowing. "I remember," he murmurs, looking even graver still. "I was horrified to hear about her mother. She and I corresponded quite often. She even interviewed me once or twice in the past years." He pauses, his small smile falling as he looks down at his plate. "Your friend did come to me a few weeks ago, asking about the attack. She wanted to know everything, if I had seen anything, if I had heard anything. She and that other girl . . . you must know who I'm talking about, the one with the hair."

"Tonks?"

He hums in response, nodding his head. "I told them that Aurors much more experienced than they and Magical Law Enforcement are coordinating to investigate together, and I did tell them not to concern themselves with it. I don't know what they're doing, and I don't want to know, but they should take care to keep their noses out of that investigation."

It's Darcy's turn to hum, unsure of how to continue from there. Ludo lifts his fork to his mouth, instantly back to his normal self. He smiles at her, elbows her playfully, and winks. For the rest of their meal, they speak of Quidditch; Ludo gives her play-by-plays of the best games he's ever had the pleasure of playing in, talking loudly about his boyhood at Hogwarts, and making Darcy laugh. He even asks her about the flying car that she, Harry, and Ron had flown to Hogwarts, and he laughs heartily when she explains how they had flown it directly into the Whomping Willow.

In hindsight, Darcy supposes it is truthfully very funny, and she chuckles along with him. When Professor Snape overhears Darcy telling Ludo after the aftermath, when they had been dragged to Professor Snape's office, Snape fixes her with an annoyed look, to which she only smiles sweetly.

Finally, when dessert ends and the noise in the Great Hall has begun to lessen, Professor Dumbledore gets to his feet, and silence falls. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to begin!" As his words echo throughout the hall, Darcy looks around. Carla is whispering into her friend's ear, eyebrows raised as Dumbledore speaks. Harry, Ron, and Hermione are listening raptly. Ludo smiles at Dumbledore, occasionally looking out at the sea of students for a reaction. "I would like to introduce Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

Darcy claps politely along with everyone else, looking down the table at the old man.

"And Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

Darcy claps much more enthusiastically for Ludo. He waves at all of the students, winking again at Darcy and smiling crookedly. When the applause dies away, Dumbledore continues down the list, introducing Karkaroff and Madame Maxime.

"Now . . . Mr. Filch, if you will."

Darcy's eyes snap to the back of the Great Hall, where she had noticed the caretaker lurking earlier. He looks strangely delighted to oblige the Headmaster, pulling a heavy wooden chest down the length of the Great Hall. People begin to talk again, murmuring excitedly, guessing as to what could possibly be inside. Ludo elbows Darcy again, looking excited. She smiles at him, sitting on the edge of her seat.

"The Triwizard Tournament will consist of three tasks, designed and approved by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman, to test the champions in their magical prowess . . . their daring . . . and their ability to cope with danger . . ."

"Do you wish you were still a student?" Ludo whispers teasingly. "I'll tell you something, Darcy . . . I would have placed all my money on you." He points to Dumbledore again, who taps the chest with his wand, causing it to spring open.

Darcy tilts her head slightly, looking at the wooden cup that Dumbledore pulls from within the trunk. It's not just a cup, but a wooden goblet about ten times the size of a normal cup. But that's not even the strangest thing about it—bright blue flames dance within, never faltering and never flickering. It captivates her attention, and Darcy feels her stomach knot, as if the fire is an ominous sign.

"Those wishing to enter the tournament may do so by writing their name and school upon a slip of parchment and dropping it into the goblet," Dumbledore continues, placing the goblet atop the chest and letting the entirety of the Great Hall look upon it for a few moments. "To all underage students, be warned. I have drawn an Age Line around the goblet so no one under the age of seventeen will be able to pass."

There's more murmuring among the students, but still excited in nature. Darcy sees Fred and George Weasley looking very arrogant, sly smiles on their faces. When they see Darcy is looking their way, they both nod at her at the same time.

"Tomorrow, at our Halloween feast, the goblet will give us the names of the three champions it finds most worthy. And let it be know . . . those who are chosen by the goblet will not be given the chance to change their mind. He or so will be obligated to finish until the end." Professor Dumbledore looks around very seriously, and then smiles again. "Now, off to bed. Good-night!"

As benches scrape against the stone floors and teachers begin to rise to their feet, Ludo puts a hand on Darcy's shoulder. "I will see you tomorrow night, my dear. I'll introduce you to Barty tomorrow after the feast," he says, patting her gently and stepping down from the staff table, calling for Barty Crouch.

Darcy leaps away from the table, trying to catch up with the curly-haired Hufflepuff, surrounded by her friends. "Carla!" she calls, and Carla turns on her heels and grins. Her friends take a good look at Darcy and bid Carla good-bye, leaving her side. Darcy blushes, but Carla walks slowly with her all the same.

"Hey, Darcy," she says flatly. "Come to try and talk me out of putting my name forward?"

While she isn't unkind about it, her accusation still stings. Darcy frowns. "Still going through with it, then?"

"Yes," Carla sighs happily, almost wistful. "Cedric Diggory said he's going to put his name forward, as well. That's double the chance of a Hufflepuff representing Hogwarts! It's about time our House got some positive recognition around here!"

"I won't be able to talk you out of this, will I?" Darcy asks, already knowing the answer.

Carla scoffs. "Not a chance."

The entirety of the hospital wing erupts in laughter when Fred and George walk in, aged near fifty years and sprouting long, gray, thick beards that would make Professor Dumbledore jealous.

"I told you it wouldn't work!" Darcy shouts at them, her stomach aching from laughing. Fred and George scowl at her for a mere second before breaking down into cackles themselves. Their beards are truly miraculous compared to some of the others on the students sitting on cots. "Why didn't you listen to me?"

Madam Pomfrey, that damn smart woman, had personally requested Gemma for the day, having written an urgent letter to St Mungo's immediately after the revealing of the Goblet of Fire the previous night. When Darcy had asked her why, the matron had responded without a doubt in her voice, sure that students were going to try and get past the Age Line, and she had been absolutely right. It's not only beards, of course—many other underage students have suffered repercussions of spells gone wrong and side effects of Aging Potions not brewed correctly.

Carla pulls her knees to her chest beside Darcy. The bed groans and creaks beneath them as Gemma wanders over to the twins, tugging lightly at Fred's beard. "Am I old enough for you now?" Fred asks her with a grin. "You liked bearded men, don't you?"

"I prefer them a bit shorter, actually, and for the wearer to be out of school," Gemma teases. "Come sit down, you two idiots."

"Out of school yeah?" George asks, allowing Gemma to push him and his brother onto a single bed. "Last we heard, you were harboring a secret crush on a certain Viktor Krum, who—unbeknownst to all of us—is still very much in school."

"Viktor Krum is an international Quidditch player," Gemma counters, pouring some light green potion into two cups and offering them to the twins. "What do either of you have to offer?"

"A lifetime of laughter," Fred promises, making Gemma laugh again.

"Speaking of laughter," Carla interrupts, looking at Darcy with her eyebrows raised. "I saw you sitting up there with Ludo Bagman last night. It seems like he knows how to make you laugh."

"I like him," Darcy retorts as all of her friends snicker. She flushes a deep red. "He's funny and very kind to me. Anyway, what did you think of the other schools?"

"How about that Madam Maxime?" George sighs, whistling and leaning back on the bed after downing his potion.

"Have you ever seen a woman so big?" Fred asks, his mouth twitching as he drinks deep from the cup.

"If you have nothing nice to say," Madam Pomfrey interrupts them, rushing past as someone enters the infirmary with boils all over their face. "Then maybe you shouldn't say it at all. Don't you four have better things to do than distract Miss Smythe from her duties?"

Darcy blushes again. She's been in the hospital wing ever since Madam Pomfrey had brought Darcy along to the entrance hall halfway through breakfast to meet Gemma. Carla had jumped up from her seat at the Hufflepuff table to follow after them, and Gemma had cheered upon seeing Carla drop her name into the Goblet of Fire before they all made their way to the hospital wing.

"Who else has entered, then?" Gemma asks, smiling at a fifth year Slytherin girl who walks through the doors crying, boils all over her face. Recognizing Gemma, the girls boldly walks right up to her, and Gemma lowers the girl's hands from her face to get a better look. "Don't worry, my love, I'm very good at removing boils. I've got a cream, just let me get my bag—"

"I won't have you experimenting on my students, Smythe!" Madam Pomfrey says severely, handing the smiling Gemma a vial of tried and tested potion. "Whatever you do with Mr. Lupin is out of my control, but you do not have my permission to use your . . . experimental creams and potions on unknowing, underage students."

"Lupin?" the girl asks suddenly, startling everyone around her. She looks at Gemma with wide eyes, accepting the potion being handed to her. "Like, Professor Lupin? The werewolf?"

Gemma nods curtly, urging the girl to drink.

"My parents said that Professor Dumbledore was mad to hire a werewolf here," she continues, attracting the attention of everyone around her. "They said werewolves are dangerous creatures, and to place one among students should have gotten Dumbledore sacked."

Darcy thinks this is a rather bold admission from a girl she's never spoken to before. Gemma's small smile doesn't falter, and as Darcy opens her mouth to argue Lupin's case, Gemma lowers her voice and speaks softly to the girl. "How could you say that?" she whispers, stroking the girl's long, blonde hair. Darcy is amazed that this girl lets her without question. "Professor Dumbledore would never have hired someone he thought was dangerous."

The girl's cheeks turn slightly pink, and her boils begin to shrink. As soon as her face is cleared up again, the girl takes her leave.

Darcy looks at Gemma apologetically. "You didn't have to do that."

"I didn't do it for you," Gemma chuckles. "You'd rather I not say anything at all to defend him? Anyway, tell me who else has entered."

"All of Durmstrang, of course," Fred says, looking to his brother.

"And Beauxbatons, too," George adds. "I think Angelina Johnson was going to put her name in."

Fred nods eagerly. "Hope it spits her name out tonight. A Gryffindor champion would be nice."

"I saw a few Slytherins put their names forward just before breakfast," Darcy says, and Gemma cocks an eyebrow. "I think one of them was Warrington, but I'm not positive that he actually put his name in."

"And me—I put my name in, too," Carla grins. "And Cedric Diggory."

"All right," Gemma answers pensively. "Carla, if your name is pulled, I'll cheer for you, but I'm rather partial to Hogwarts having a Slytherin champion."

George groans in disgust, scrunching his nose as Fred laughs. "You know," George sighs. "Sometimes I forget you were a Slytherin."

"Come on," Gemma laughs. "Don't you think you're a little old to still hate Slytherins on principle?"

"And you don't hate Gryffindors for the same reason?" Fred asks.

"I'm sitting right here with three of you, aren't I?"

George shrugs. "Fair enough."

Hedwig finally arrives late in the afternoon while Darcy takes a late lunch in her room. She raps her sharp beak against the window and Darcy throws it open eagerly. Part of her wishes it was Max, and not only because he would be carrying Sirius' reply, but because Max is much better company than Hedwig. She drops Lupin's letter into Darcy's lap and soars back out the open window without even giving Darcy an affectionate little nip.

Darcy sets her sandwich aside, tucking her feet beneath her, and ripping greedily at the envelope, pulling out the parchment from within.

Darcy,

It's risky with Aurors combing the country for him, but I can't see the harm in a night's visit. Let's see if we can wait until after the next full moon. Hopefully that will give you time to arrange everything.

Let me know when I can see you again, preferably as soon as possible. Give Harry my best, as always.

Yours,

Remus

Her heart starts to race. She smiles in spite of herself, wondering if it will feel like it did that night in the Shrieking Shack, when Sirius had held her for a few moments for the first time in forever. She wonders if she'll cry again—Darcy has never been able to hide her tears with ease. Despite everything—her anxiety about the Triwizard Tournament and her lingering fears about an impending war in the near future—the only thing she can think of is that she's going to see Sirius in a few weeks, and that happy thought is still with her a few hours later when she goes down to the Great Hall for dinner, wondering curiously who the champions are going to be.

Ludo Bagman has taken his place in Professor Snape's seat again for the feast, and Darcy's quite glad of it. With her spirits so high, they both talk animatedly throughout the Halloween feast, eating and drinking like gluttons. Ludo entertains her with vague hints about the tasks, considers betting on who the champions from each school will be, and heightens her sense of anticipation when he mentions, in passing, something very exciting that's going to be happening near Christmas.

"What is it?" Darcy laughs, asking him for the third time that very evening. "Just one more hint, Mr. Bagman, please!"

"I'm fresh out of hints!" Ludo cries dramatically, patting her shoulder and winking. "I'm sorry, my dear! This is one surprise I just can't ruin for you, but I daresay . . . I'm sure you'll have a ball!"

"Professor Snape," Darcy says breathlessly, leaning forward in order to look at Snape across Ludo. "Do you know what it is? You'll tell me, won't you?"

Professor Snape gives the both of them an irritated look before returning to his meal.

"You're cruel, Mr. Bagman," Darcy smiles at him. "Leading me on that like."

"Come Christmas, you'll be glad I didn't ruin it for you, I promise."

Finally, after what feels like the longest feast Darcy has ever sat through (though she thinks it may be rivaled by her very first feast at Hogwarts, which had seemed to drag on forever), Professor Dumbledore gets to his feet. The Goblet of Fire has been moved from the entrance hall to the Great Hall again, set high on a raised platform at the front of the hall so everyone is able to have a good view of it. The food and plates disappear in front of everyone and the hall settles immediately, the quiet very pressing as Dumbledore looks around happily at all of his students.

"It is time!" he begins in a booming voice, pausing for dramatic effect. "It is time for the champions to finally be chosen. When the champions names are called, they will make their way into the room behind me." He gestures to a side door at the opposite end of the staff table as Darcy.

There's another moment or two where Professor Dumbledore doesn't speak, and Darcy leans forward, glancing at Ludo with her brows furrowed. Ludo watches the Goblet of Fire closely, his lips stretched into a wide smile. Darcy turns her attention back to the blue flames, and the instant she does, the flames turn red and flicker a little higher.

A smoldering piece of parchment shoots from the flames and flutters gracefully down into Dumbledore's hands. He reads it first, quickly, and then announces to the silent hall: "The champion for Durmstrang . . . Viktor Krum!"

The Great Hall erupts in hearty applause and cheers, some students wolf-whistling. His fellow Durmstrang students all rise in unison as Viktor makes his way from the Slytherin table along the staff table and towards the door Dumbledore had mentioned. He hardly even smiles, walking to the room as if doomed to certain death, receiving a loud congratulations from Professor Karkaroff.

When the flames turn red again, the noise dies away, and Dumbledore catches the second piece of parchment with deft hands.

"The champion for Beauxbatons . . . Fleur Delacour!"

A silver-haired girl jumps to her feet from the Ravenclaw table, beaming. She's a beautiful girl, graceful and haughty-looking, reminding Darcy slightly of Emily. Other Beauxbatons girls begin to cry, but Fleur receives a warm applause all the same. The Durmstrang students clap politely for her as she enters the side chamber, as well.

And then, Darcy feels her mouth go dry. Any second, the Goblet of Fire will spit out the name of the Hogwarts champion, and it could be Carla's . . . Darcy wants to feel excited for her, and then she remembers that she'll be seeing Sirius soon, and happiness floods her. The flames turn from blue to red, and Carla's face is flushed and she's sitting on her knees, holding hands with Cedric Diggory. The flames spit the last piece of parchment and Darcy has never sat so still in her life, her heart in her throat . . .

"The Hogwarts champion . . ." Dumbledore says again, pausing and smiling at his students. "Cedric Diggory!"

Darcy laughs incredulously as the Hufflepuff table gets to their feet, shouting and clapping and stomping their feet. Carla stands with Cedric and they hug tightly; she pats him on the back as he stumbles from the mass of reaching Hufflepuffs surrounding him, a goofy and crooked smile on his handsome face, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Excellent!" Ludo Bagman calls over the tumult, still clapping. "Just wonderful!"

"The three champions have been chosen!" Professor Dumbledore declares, clapping his hands together. "By cheering on your champions, you will be contributing in a very real—"

Professor Dumbledore breaks off abruptly, and Darcy blinks in surprise. She opens her mouth to speak to Ludo Bagman, and then she sees it—the Goblet of Fire's blue flames have turned red again. Darcy watches carefully, and Ludo's smile falters, making her anxious. A piece of parchment is spit out by the flames, and the parchment seems almost to float in mid-air, falling slowly into Dumbledore's outstretched palm. He smooths it out with his thumbs and hesitates. Darcy, a sense of dread overcoming her, begins to rise slowly from her chair as if by instinct.

The Headmaster clears his throat. "Harry Potter."

Darcy and Harry's eyes meet across the Great Hall. She knows, she understands all that he's trying to communicate to her with this single look. She knows that Harry couldn't have put his own name into the Goblet of Fire, and knows that an older student wouldn't have done it for him. Tearing her eyes away from her little brother, unaware that she's completely on her feet now, Darcy looks helplessly at Professor Snape.

"What's happening?" she whispers to him. Ludo ignores her completely, looking down at Barty Crouch, positively bewildered.

"Harry Potter," Dumbledore says again. "Come up, up here!"

Harry rises, walking through the silent hall. Every eye is upon him, watching him with confused expressions and ugly scowls. No one claps for Harry, no one cheers, no one congratulates him or wolf-whistles. Even Ludo finally gets to his feet, torn between amusement and disbelief, putting a hand on Darcy's shoulder. She watches Harry enter the side room alone, and Ludo excuses herself, following after her brother quickly, leaving her alone and shocked.

There's some quiet arguing between Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, and Karkaroff as students begin to murmur conspiratorially. Barty Crouch says something in a low voice that makes Madame Maxime color and snap at him. But Darcy is struck dumb and deaf, hardly able to understand what has just happened. Her little brother is behind the door just beyond Dumbledore, probably scared and frightened beyond belief.

It isn't until Professor Snape speaks very clearly into her ear does she look away from the door, her chest heaving. "Darcy, come."

She moves slowly, automatically, and as the other teachers (plus Barty Crouch) shuffle as one towards the side door. Professor Snape trails after them, slightly behind, a firm hand on the nape of her neck, guiding her towards the door without explanation.

"Professor Snape," she whispers, looking up at him. "What's going on?"

"Did you put your brother's name in the Goblet of Fire?" Professor Snape asks her softly, out of earshot of the others. His tone is sharp and accusing, but she can't believe that Snape might think she did such a thing.

"No," she breathes, shaking her head and looking him directly in the eyes. "You know I would never do that."

"No, no, no! I should think not!" Barty Crouch stops Professor Snape and Darcy at the doorway leading to the champions. Professor Snape lowers his hand from Darcy's neck as she tries to peer around Crouch, trying to get a glimpse of Harry. "Absolutely not, Professor. I will not have Darcy Potter in this room just after watching her brother's name—"

"Darcy Potter happens to be my assistant," Professor Snape says smoothly, a bite to his tone that might frighten young students, but certainly not herself. "And she will go where I go, is that understood? Come, Darcy, with me."

Barty Crouch seems hesitant, but allows them to pass without another word. Darcy feels this is a huge mistake, because at once, everyone turns to face her. Ludo Bagman and Harry, at least, don't seem at all angry with her. The room is already small to begin with, made smaller by the abundance of portraits around the walls and the amount of people grouped together within.

"But zere she ees!" Madame Maxime shouts, pointing a long finger accusingly at Darcy. "Of course she put 'is name in! She ees his sister, no? And certainly old enough to cross ze Age Line!"

"No, I didn't—"

"There is no way that the boy could have crossed the Age Line to do it himself," Karkaroff sneers, attempting to keep the malice out of his voice. Darcy can't help but think it almost funny that Karkaroff speaks so harshly to her now after he had done his best to charm her during the night of their arrival. "Only she could have ensured that his name was put in . . . but how, child? How did you trick the Goblet of Fire into accepting a fourth school?"

"I never—" The other teachers begin to talk over her again, and Darcy sweeps over to Ludo, grabbing his robes in her hands and looking up at him hopelessly. "Please, Mr. Bagman, please! You can't let him go through with this!"

Ludo takes Darcy's hands gently in his own, lowering them from his robes and opening his mouth to answer, but it's Barty Crouch that speaks. "Those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are magically bound and obligated to compete."

"Zis is ridiculous!" Madame Maxime replies coldly, towering over everyone in the Great Hall, with little Fleur Delacour looking at Darcy with a scowl on her pretty face. "You are telling me, Dumbly-Door, zat zis girl will not be punished for breaking ze rules? She should be dismissed and sent home immediately!"

"Darcy Potter didn't break the rules."

Everyone jumps, turning towards the source of the new voice. Mad-Eye Moody has taken them all by surprise, clunking into the room on his wooden leg and grunting. Darcy takes an instinctive step backwards, backing right into Ludo's cushy stomach, who catches her.

"You sound very confident," Karkaroff spits back, folding his arms over her chest. "What is your evidence then, that Darcy did not enter his name?"

"Darcy Potter is hardly more than a child," Professor Moody growls, narrowing his good eye at Karkaroff as his magical one settles on Darcy. "You believe her a skilled enough witch at nineteen-years-old to bewitch a powerful object such as that? You believe Darcy Potter would willingly put her brother's name into the Goblet of Fire knowing that he could die?"

"I find the circumstances very suspicious, Mad-Eye," Karkaroff growls, and Darcy notices that his cheeks are flushed. "Darcy Potter happens to return as an assistant for Severus Snape the year the tournament is reinstated . . . and then this happens?"

"I hope you are not insinuating that I had anything to do with this, Karkaroff," Professor Snape says icily.

"How convenient for you, then, to have an assistant to do your dirty work for you—"

"There is one way to know for certain if Darcy did do this, of course," Professor Dumbledore interrupts, holding his hands behind his back, speaking lightly as if to friends. "If you had let her explain herself, we might already have had her answer." He turns to Darcy, still breathing heavily with Ludo's hands gentle on her arms. "Darcy, did you put Harry's name into the Goblet of Fire? Did you knowingly trick the Goblet of Fire in any way?"

"No," Darcy rasps, and anger surges through her. How can Dumbledore be so calm about this? "I didn't, and I would never."

"I believe you, Darcy." Professor Dumbledore examines her face for a long time, and she quickly rearranges her features, hoping Dumbledore hasn't noticed the plain anger on her face. "Severus, might I ask you to escort Miss Potter to my office? I won't be long, Darcy. Please wait for me there."

Darcy feels Ludo's hands release her, and she looks at him over her shoulder. With everyone's eyes still fixed upon her, Darcy chances one more glance at Harry before walking towards Snape, allowing him to lead her from the room with a hand on her back, urging her along.

The Great Hall has emptied, and she's more than thankful for it. Professor Snape leads her quickly through the large oak doors and up the marble staircase. "They aren't really going to make him compete, will they?" she asks him. "He can't . . . Professor Dumbledore won't . . . he will do something, won't he? About Harry?"

Professor Snape doesn't answer, giving a password to the gargoyle that guards the spiral stairwell to Professor Dumbledore's office. She follow him up it and through the door to his study. All of the portraits look down at them curiously, as if surprised to see them together or to see visitors at all, and the mutter amongst themselves. Darcy looks around, hearing Professor Snape's muffled footsteps on the carpet making for the door again, and Darcy turns around quickly to call out for him, wrapping her arms around herself. There's something incredibly unsettling about having her back to many of the portraits.

"Don't go," she pleads, and Professor Snape hesitates just before the door. "Please . . . please don't leave me here alone."

"I'm not your babysitter, Darcy."

"Please don't go."

Professor Snape seems annoyed at her request, and his eyes become cold and hard again. But he relents, sitting down all the same in the high-backed chair at Professor Dumbledore's desk. Darcy remains standing, examining the Headmaster's curios and silver instruments set neatly upon a crooked table, avoiding eye contact with any of the portraits still whispering.

"You believe me, don't you?" Darcy asks, speaking to the back of Professor Snape's head. "I didn't put his name in there. I would never lie about that."

He turns in his seat to look at her, and he does so for a long time, as if trying to find an answer in her very expression. "Yes," he finally answers. "I believe you."

Darcy exhales the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, and the rest of the wait is quiet.