Sometimes I wonder if anyone is reading this anymore but then I read the reviews and the PM's and I think that you all are only waiting for me to continue with the fifth book. Don't worry about that - see, I still haven't finished reading it. Unbelievable, right? I love OotP in movies and in fanfiction but I still haven't read it! I don't know if any writer here does it, but as I read along I put on sticky notes on the pages with quotes or details I want to add to the story and also I try to fit my OC's like Natasha, Marie, James (he'll definitely be there!) and Anya and how they grow slowly. I may update a third chapter for Just One More Lie and also rewrite the second chapter, but no promises.

I'll give you a spoiler though: I haven't written it yet but there's this huge twist that will change everything for the last two books, and it will leave a permanent shock in Anya's life. In fact, I think I did a lot of twists for fifth year but this one nearly brings me to tears. Can you guess what it is?

I hope my little rant appeased you all, but I don't think so because even I am jumping to finish the fourth book.

I don't own Harry Potter, only things you don't recognize. R & R!

"Damn you, Peeves," I cursed, sniffing. Rain worsened when our carriage had stopped in front of the oak doors. The moment Ron kicked the door open, the four of us rushed to the Entrance Hall to avoid getting soaked wet. Our efforts were in vain though, as Peeves had chosen that moment to play one of his pranks and soon, water-filled balloons had begun to fall from above. Professor McGonagall had rushed out of the Great Hall but because the floor was very slippery, she almost fell and grabbed the closest thing to her, which had been Hermione's neck. By the time she had straightened, Peeves already had disappeared, the rest of his balloons falling like small bombs.

As I shook the water out of my robes, Harry took off his sneakers and tilted them, water pouring to the ground.

"Hope they hurry up with the Sorting," Harry said. "I'm starving."

"Wonder were Marie will end up," I mused. "My hopes are in Hufflepuff though."

He raised his eyebrows. "Not Gryffindor?"

I shook my head. "Doesn't suit her. From what I have gathered, she would be perfect on Slytherin."

"Hiya, Harry!"

Harry winced and turned to face Colin Creevey. Colin was a mousy boy that worshiped the ground where Harry walked and never wasted a chance to take a photo of him.

"Hi, Colin," said Harry warily.

"Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother's starting! My brother Dennis!"

"Er - good?"

"He's really excited!" said Colin, practically bouncing up and down in his seat. "I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?"

"Er - yeah, all right," said Harry. Assured that Colin wasn't paying attention, he turned to us.

"Brothers and sisters usually go in the same Houses, don't they?" he asked.

"Oh no, not necessarily," said Hermione. "Parvati Patil's twin's in Ravenclaw, and they're identical. You'd think they'd be together, wouldn't you?"

She looked at the staff table and did a double take. "Where's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

Three chairs were empty. Hagrid and Professor McGonagall were both justified but the third chair belonged to the Defense Against Darks Arts teacher. Since I had studied here, not a single teacher had lasted but a year. So far, Lupin had been the best. Unfortunately, Professor Snape had divulged his werewolf status and Lupin had left before the Howlers could arrive.

"Maybe they couldn't get anyone!" said Hermione, looking anxious.

Bored, I looked up at the ceiling. Just as the outside, the fake-sky was stormy, thunder rumbled, the clouds shifting with the harsh air.

"Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, on Harry's other side. "I could eat a Hippogriff."

"If you can catch one, count me in," I mumbled, distracted because at that moment, the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell.

With McGonagall on the lead, the group of first years followed, trembling, and looked in awe at the ceiling. If I had thought I was wet, those kids looked like they had swum all the way from the station rather than traveled by the boats. They came to a stop between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables, peering nervously at the front, few standing on their tiptoes - all except for the strange couple that walke in on the last moment.

Marie Harlaown whistled merrily as she swung a pink umbrella back and forth, her arm intertwined with that of a small, mousy-haired boy, who was wrapped in what I recognized as Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. They both looked thoroughly excited despite being soaked from head to toes.

"Hi Anya!" Marie yelled, waving her umbrella in the air. Several heads turned in my direction and I quickly ducked, hiding my red face behind the curtain of hair.

"Merlin, kill me now," I moaned, embarrassed.

"Its about to start!" Hermione hissed, poking my head.

I let out a relieved sigh as the Sorting Hat began to speak, all students' eyes focusing on it.

A thousand years or more ago,
When I was newly sewn,
There lived four wizards of renown,
Whose names are still well known:

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,
Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,
Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.

The shared a wish, a hope, a dream,
They hatched a daring plan
To educate young sorcerers
Thus Hogwarts School began.

Now each of these four founders
Formed their own House, for each
Did value different virtues
In the ones they had to teach.

By Gryffindor, the bravest were
Prized far beyond the rest;

For Ravenclaw, the cleverest
Would always be the best;

For Hufflepuff, hard workers were
Most worthy of admission;

And power-hungry Slytherin
Loved those of great ambition.

While still alive they did divide
Their favorites from the throng,
Yet how to pick the worthy ones
When they were dead and gone?

'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,
He whipped me off his head
The founders put some brains in me
So I could choose instead!

Now slip me snug about your ears,
I've never yet been wrong,
I'll have a look inside your mind
And tell where you belong!

"That's not the song it sang when it Sorted us," Harry said, clapping along with everyone else.

"Sings a different one every year," Ron said. "It's got to be a pretty boring life, hasn't it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up the next one."

I straightened as McGonagall unrolled a large scroll of parchment and cleared her throat.

"When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool. When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table." She told the first years. "Ackerley, Stewart!"

A tiny boy walked forward, trembling all over. Because of the water or the nerves, I wasn't sure, but he put on the hat and sat on the stool.

"RAVENCLAW!" the Hat shouted.

Stewart Ackerley took off the hat and hurried into a seat at the Ravenclaw table, where everyone was applauding him.

"Baddock, Malcolm!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Malcolm Baddock joined the table on the other end of the Hall, looking as proud as the other Slytherins did, clapping at the arrival of their new snake.

"Branstone, Eleanor!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Cauldwell, Owen!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Creevey, Dennis!"

I could now see the resemblance between the siblings: though Colin's hair was lighter, his brother's eager expression was just the same as his, from the way the boy's nose scrunched as he grinned, down to the eager look in his blue eyes. If it wasn't for the age gape, they could easily be confused as fraternal twins.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Dennis Creevey beamed as the Gryffindor table roared their cheers, and took off the Sorting Hat, placing it on the stool and hurried to sit by his brother.

"Colin, I fell in! It was brilliant! And then a girl jumped and helped me float on her umbrella and something in the water grabbed us and pushed us back in the boat!"

I slapped my forehead. How could she have been so reckless?!

"Cool! It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!"

"Wow!"

I let my head fall on the table, wincing when the cutlery shook.

"Dennis! Dennis! See that boy down there? The one with the black hair and glasses? See him? Know who he is, Dennis?"

"Dobbs, Emma!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

It took only a few names before McGonagal finally said, "Harlaown, Marie!"

I watched with hawk-like eyes as the blue-eyed girl sat down on the stool first and placed gently the Sorting Hat on her head. In the background, I could hear Dennis Creevey saying excitedly, "That's her! Colin, that's the girl I told you about!"

But a minute passed. The tear that worked as its mouth curled, seeming to be thinking, and above where the eyes would be was creased as if it was frowning.

The Sorting Hat hummed but didn't say otherwise. Two more minutes passed, and it didn't move. Marie kept switching her umbrella from her right to her left hand. Because the Hat covered her eyes, only her mouth was visible and from what I could see, she was talking to it.

"She's a Hatstall!" said Hermione excitedly, although it hadn't yet reached the five minutes mark to call someone an official Hatstall.

"What is that?"

I turned to Harry, whispering, "Its when the Sorting Hat doesn't know where to place you. You could easily fit in all of the Houses depending on your personality. Sometimes, to break the tie, the Hat lets you choose. They are very rare you know, only occurs around once every fifty years. Its the second time it happens on this decade," I added, remembering my own Sorting. My lip curled. "Tell me I just didn't sound like Hermione?"

Harry shook his head bemusedly. With a resigned sigh, I let my head fall on his shoulder. Harry tensed, and I realized what I had done. Slowly, I moved away from him, as if he was fire, and willed myself to blush, not this time.

Tuning to reality, I saw Marie stop moving. The umbrella hung limply on her right hand and she opened her mouth, just as the rip at the brim did -

"RAVENCLAW!"

Perhaps it was because Marie was a Hatstall, a rare fact that only occurred at half a century, but the Ravenclaw table gave its loudest cheer and jumped to their feet, clapping and beaming as Marie joined them. Her eyes met mine briefly, and I noticed the twinkle of mischief in them, walking past the empty spots closest to her and instead, sat next to a girl with dirty-blond hair by the end of the table. I saw the Ravenclaws gazing at her in bewilderment and whispering to each other. The girl turned to look at Marie with wide eyes, and Marie placed the wet umbrella on the table, ignoring her.

I blinked. "That... wasn't surprising at all."

"Preferable to Slytherin," Harry teased.

"Yeah."

The Sorting continued: boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces went through the process, the line of children decreasing as McGonagall passed the L's.

"Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, rubbing his stomach as he mouthed at his arm, drooling on the sleeve.

Nearly Headless Nick, who sat across us, said, "Now, Ron, the Sorting's much more important than food."

"Madley, Laura!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Course it is, if you're dead," Ron snapped.

Sir Nick ignored him.

"McDonald, Natalie!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"I do hope this year's batch of Gryffindors are up to scratch," said Sir Nick. "We don't want to break our winning streak, do we?"

I snorted a bit. For the last three years in a row, Gryffindor had won the Inter-House Championship, though Sir Nick failed to remember that it had been because of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I (and Neville, once). Since the beginning, we had gone through dangerous quests, two in which we dealt with the darkest wizard from all time, Voldemort, and almost died in the process, yet at the end, we always got out safely. Dumbledore never failed to shower us with points for our 'bravery and withstanding courage', which in my opinion, was just a front to hide the truth from the other students.

"Pritchard, Graham!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Quirke, Orla!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Whitby, Kevin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

With a final round of applause, the Sorting ended. Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away. "About time," said Ron, seizing his knife and fork and looking expectantly at his golden plate.

The Headmaster stood, spreading his arms with a welcoming smile. Professor Dumbledore looked no different since the first time I met him: the candlelight caught onto his hair and long beard, shining silver in the dimly lit Hall, the stars and moons embroidered on his emerald robes rippling on the fabric and changing of color. His blue eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles as he spoke, his deep voice echoing around the Hall.

"I have only two words to say to you: tuck in."

"Hear, hear!" Harry and Ron exclaimed, digging into the food as the plates and dishes filled before our eyes. I was no better, grasping everything I could with both hands.

Ron sighed through a mouthful of mashed potato.

"Aaah, 'at's be'er."

"You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know," said Sir Nick as he stared at the food mournfully. "There was trouble in the kitchens earlier."

"Why? Wha' 'appened?" Harry asked, lowering his chink of steak.

"Peeves, of course," said Sir Nick, shaking his head, which wobbled dangerously. He pulled his ruff a little higher up on his neck. "The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast - well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council - the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance – but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down."

I glanced at the ghost that sat - or floated? - at the Slytherin table. The Bloody Baron was a gaunt ghost who I never heard speak before, covered in bright blood thought it looked silvery. No one ever dared to question where did they come from as he was too scary, one of the reasons why he was the only one to keep Peeves the Poltergeist on his toes.

"Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something," said Ron darkly.

"So what did he do in the kitchens?"

"Oh the usual. Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits -"

CLANG!

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" I exclaimed. "Hermione!"

"There are house elves here?" she asked, not paying me attention. "Here at Hogwarts?"

As Sir Nick spoke, I grabbed a napkin, angrily rubbing at my robe and settled the cup in place, making sure it was safely out of my reach (or Hermione's).

"Slave labor," Hermione was muttering when I finished. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labor."

I was definitely not going to ask.

For the rest of dinner, Ron tried to persuade Hermione into eating something, often waving dishes under her nose, and only gave up when she threw him a look so reminiscent of Professor McGonagall and shut up.

Rain continued to fall heavily against the glass, the wind howled, and with a clap of thunder, all remnants of food disappeared. Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again and the chatter ceased at once.

"So!" Dumbledore said, smiling around at us all. "Now that we are all fed and watered." ("Hmph!" Hermione said.) "I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices."

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbess, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year. This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -"

But at that moment, there was a rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open. The candle lights flickered for a moment and then dimmed, allowing us to see the man standing in the doorway. He was leaning on a long staff, covered in a black cloak.

Lightning flashed on the ceiling and then, the man no longer had his hood up. He shook his head, his long mane of dark grey hair sticking to his face, then began to walk toward the teachers' table, a dull clunk echoing through the hell with each step he took.

The man didn't look at anywhere that wasn't Dumbledore, and when he reached him, a clap of thunder accompanied by a flash of lightning gave us chance to see him more clearly. At the sight of the man's face, my body tensed. My hand instinctively reached for my wand.

Although the man's face was scarred, giving the impression of a poorly carved face on wood, it was the eyes that frightened the most. One eye was small, dark, and beady; the other was large and round, a vivid electric blue, fastened by a leather strap around his head. It moved left and right, up and down, then rolled over until the pupil disappeared.

The man offered a scarred hand to Dumbledore, who shook it, muttering what looked like a question as the man shook his head and replied a negative, all the while unsmiling. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

As the stranger sat down and pulled a plate of sausages toward himself, Dumbledoere said brightly, "May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? Professor Moody."

I kept looking at the man with some suspicion. Nobody clapped except for Professor Dumbledore and Hagrid, not even the teachers, but Moody didn't seem bothered by his less-than-warm welcome. Whilst he ate, his blue eye still rolled around its socket, taking in his surroundings.

"Moody? Mad-Eye Moody?" Harry said under his breath.

I leaned across the table and said, "Pay up, Finnigan," but never took my eyes from the man. After all, whoever had come across a History book doesn't know about Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody? He was a very well known Auror, and half the cells of Azkaban were filled thanks to him, though according to a few articles from the Prophet, he was mad as a hatter these days.

He confirmed my suspicions by pulling out a hip flask from his travelling cloak and taking a long swig from it, lifting his arm and on the process, allowing us to see that he had a wooden leg with a claw-like foot in the end. Whatever he was drinking, I doubted it was pumpkin juice.

"What happened? What hapenned to his face?" Hermione whispered.

"War," I said dryly. I felt Harry shift and knew he was looking at me. For both his and my sake, I forced my body to relax.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"As I was saying, we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the TriWizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" said Fred Weasley loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar..."

I snorted a laugh as he faltered under McGonagall's pointed glare and clear of throat.

"Er - but maybe this is not the time... no... where was I? Ah yes, the TriWizard Tournament... well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.

"The TriWizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Death Toll?" I said loudly, Hermione whispering along. No one seemed to catch that bit though: everyone was whispering excitedly to each other, making me roll my eyes at their immature reactions.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own Departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger. The Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their shortlisted contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the TriWizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" the Weasley twins hissed in unison, looking up at Dumbledore in determination. They were not the only ones, as a fair amount of people from each House was doing the same or muttering to themselves excitedly.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This" - Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious - "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen."

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Dumbledore sat and began speaking to Mad-Eye Moody.

There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.

"They can't do that!" shouted George Weasley in the front, who had not joined the crowd moving toward the door, but was standing up and glaring at Dumbledore. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"

"They're not stopping me entering," said Fred stubbornly, also scowling at the top table. "The champions will get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"

"But of course, lets forget about the death toll, don't we?" I said sarcastically. I had no doubt the twins were rather brilliant but they were too careless and rash, preferring the thrill of danger and of getting caught than anything. With their attitude, if for some miracle they got in, they would only get killed for nothing.

I heard my name being called and I stopped, turning to see Marie grinning expectantly at me.

"So?" she said.

I cocked my head side to side, smirking slightly. "A Raven - not bad. I didn't expect you to be a Hatstall though."

"I know! Cool, isn't?"

"A bit. Oh right, Neville," I said, turning to the boy at my side, "this is Marie, my roommate at the Orphanage. Marie, this is -"

She waved her hand. "I know, Neville Longbottom, your best friend and all," Neville turned a faint pink and Marie narrowed her eyes, leaning closer and standing on her tiptoes. Her eyes seemed to be piercing a hole through him. "Do you have a crush on her?"

"Anyway!" I said loudly, grabbing her shoulders and turning her around. "Its a bit late and I don't know the way tot he Ravenclaw common room so, you better go with your House mates and follow the Prefect, and remember, don't do anything dangerous and/or strange."

"That's what you and your friends are there for," she said blankly.

"Yeah, yeah, see you in the morning!" Shoving her lightly, I quickly snatched Neville's hand and dragged him behind the others. They were still arguing about the TriWizard tournament.

Neville stammered. The blush still hadn't left his face. "Um, that was..."

"Yeah," I nodded. "She's a little odd, but don't worry, you get used to it after a while."

"She reminded me of you, actually," he said. Before I could say something, I heard Fred say, airily, "Fancy entering?"

"What d'you reckon?" Ron asked. "Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older… dunno if we've learned enough…"

"I definitely haven't," said Neville, looking gloomy. "I expect my gran'd want me to try, though. She's always going on about how I should be upholding the family honor. I'll just have to -"

"Careful!" I grabbed his arm, stopping him from putting a foot on one of the tricky steps. The suit of armor at the top of the stairs wheezed in disappointment.

"Shut it," I said, banging down its visor as we passed.

We made our way up to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, which was concealed behind a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said as we approached.

"Balderdash, a prefect downstairs told me," said George in response to our surprised looks.

The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall through which we all climbed. A crackling fire warmed the circular common room, which was fully of squashy armchairs and tables. Hermione casted a dark look to the flames on the chimney, muttering "Slave labor," under her breath.

"Goodnight," she said to the boys, and disappeared through the doorway to the girls' dormitory. Sighing, I turned to face them and waved before I followed her.

I climbed the spiral stairs until I reached the top of the tower. There was a parchment of paper was plastered to the door that proclaimed we, the fourth year girls, were the hottest residents on the castle. Snorting a laugh, I removed the paper and crushed it on my hand. It probably was Lavender Brown's doing or her best friend's, Parvati Patil.

Five four-poster beds with deep crimson hangings stood against the walls, each with its owner's trunk at the foot. Fay Dunbar was already getting into bed, only greeting me with a slight nod of her head and closed her curtains quietly. Parvati already had changed into her nightgown and was chatting with Lavender, the girl's voice echoing through the bathroom's door. Hermione meanwhile, was pulling off her clothes crossly, looking at her bed sourly. As I sat down to take off my shoes on own, I discovered someone - probably a house-elf - had placed a warming pan between the sheets.

I started taking off the uniform, choosing to wear an old yellow t-shirt and a pair of black shorts. Parvati glanced at my chest - I often heard her and Lavender talking about how bigger it was, the more it attracted the boys - and her eyes widened considerably. She didn't say anything but instead began too knock consistently on the bathroom's door. The door opened and she quickly sneaked in.

Raising my eyebrows, I took a peek at my bosom, curious and kneaded them gently. They looked no different than before but then again, I didn't like to look at myself much. Shrugging, I put on the shirt.

From the bed on my right, I could her Hermione mutter darkly to herself. She suddenly stood and made her way toward the bathroom's door, knocking and without waiting, she went inside. The loud chatter from before died and Lavender and Parvati ran out, looking embarrassed and slightly scared.

I waited for Hermione to get out. As much as all the five of us were comfortable with each other to the point of changing clothes near being naked, I was much more private when it came to my bathroom time.

After I brushed my teeth and did my needs, I slipped into bed. Pictures formed inside my head as I thought of the TriWizard tournament, of three faceless persons standing in the middle of a stadium... a beam of light fell on the one standing on the middle... it was Harry, looking grim as the stadium broke into cheers, his hands were covered in blood... then people in dark cloaks Apparated around the champions, one lowering his hood... Tom Riddle smirked and started to laugh, except it wasn't his voice...

I rose from bed, gasping, my neck feeling damp and my face was hot, burning. I had fallen asleep, I realized. It was still night and my roommates' light snores echoed around me. I closed my eyes and fell back on my sheets. I looked at the ceiling for a moment before I closed my eyes. With a sigh, I burrowed into my sheets, and hoped I wouldn't dream anything at all.

So, Marie is in Ravenclaw. I thought Slytherin suited her better and I received a well-thought argument of her being sorted into Hufflepuff, but well, you guys choose.

On another note, you better vote for this one, ASAP: Who should Anya go to the Yule Ball with? Poll's on my profile.