Saturday, October 31st (Cont.)

Ada stood in the Great Hall among a mixed group of students, but when she spotted Charlotte on the arm of a Durmstrang student, she made her excuses, and broke away. She made her way to them slowly, watching how this new boy handled her best friend, and was pleasantly surprised that he seemed to be treating Charlotte like spun glass, like something precious.

She was almost to them when she was cut off. This new boy was taller than her, though that was no feat, and was wearing the Durmstrang uniform. She stopped short, and had to lean back to keep her face a respectable distance from his.

"Dance vith me."

It wasn't phrased as a question.

"No."

"It vasn't a question, krasiv," he said, a smug look twisting his face.

To anyone watching them, Ada's answering smile was absolutely viscous.

There was a small commotion as Charlotte and Viktor entered the Great Hall, and Viktor was prepared to ignore it until he saw that one of the people involved wore the same uniform as he did. He made to pull away from Charlotte, to put an end to trouble before it really began, but Charlotte put a hand on her arm to stop him.

"That girl he's mouthing off at is my best friend, Ada. It's best to stay out of the way of her spellwork when she's vexed."

"Kozkalov must learn to respect the other students," Viktor said quietly.

"Trust me," she assured him. "He's about to learn."

Viktor sighed, but, the truth was, he did trust Charlotte, so they stood to the side as Ada subtly hexed Kozkalov until his ears were twice the size of his head, and a swollen tongue lolled out of his head. Charlotte covered her mouth to smother a smile, and Viktor had to turn his head to hide his amusement. After Kozkalov had been ushered from the Great Hall by a concerned Madame Pomfrey, Ada strolled towards the couple, tucking her wand back into a hidden slit in her dress.

"You must be Viktor," Ada said. "Ada Fane. It's very nice to finally meet you."

"It is very nice to meet you as vell," Viktor said honestly.

"I won't hold - "

"Viktor," said a boy approaching them.

Ada gracefully slid between Viktor and the boy, smile bordering on vicious again.

"I," she said sweetly, "am going to tar and feather the next poor soul that interrupts me. Stay quiet until I have finished my conversation. Understand?"

The boy swallowed, wide eyed and paling, and nodded.

"Good." She turned back to Charlotte and Viktor. "I won't hold you here. You should go out and dance and have fun. Charlotte, I'll see you in a little while. I'm going to find someone to dance with myself. Viktor. Charlotte."

"Ada."

"Bye, Ada," Charlotte said.

Once she was gone, moving through the crowds of students, the Durmstrang student that had tried to speak to Viktor before cleared his throat and said,

"Karkaroff is looking for you, Viktor."

"Not tonight, Alexi," Viktor said. "He gave us the night off."

"But - "

"Tell him you could not find me."

"Viktor - "

"Goodbye, Alexi."

The other boy all but threw his hands up in the air before turning to leave them alone.

"What could that have been about?" Charlotte asked.

"I do not know, and I do not care, but vhat I do know is that I vould very much like to dance with you."

Charlotte looked up at him, felt this thumb move across her knuckles where he was still holding her hand between them, and nodded.

"I'd like that very much."

They only had to wait a moment for one dance to turn into another, and Viktor swept Charlotte onto the dance floor with a grace that surprised her. His footwork was steady, and he lead with a subtly that she would have been hard pressed to pick up on if she had actually known this song, but where her mind really lingered was on the way his hand sat on the bare skin of her back. It was a warm point that drove her to the point of distraction, and caused her to step on the hem of her gown.

"Bloody hell," she whispered as her balance wavered.

Viktor easily swept her to him to keep her from falling, and Charlotte may have remarked on how he didn't let her resume her slight distance, but she was reluctant to draw attention to it in case he let her go. She didn't want that. She wanted to keep his hand in hers, and... well. She wasn't quite sure what else. But she wanted it to happen.

After several songs in a row, the orchestra playing announced a short break, and Viktor led Charlotte away from the dance floor. By this time, they had garnered the attention of several Hogwarts students, male and female, wondering both who had managed to snag Viktor Krum as an escort on his second day visiting, and who the pretty girl with him was. Charlotte shied away from the attention, and nodded quite vigorously when Viktor suggested they escape into the gardens outside.

The gardens had been transformed from their usual beauty to something altogether ethereal. Lights twinkled dimly in the bushes and the short trees. Toadstools had been magicked to illuminate the gravel pathways through the short hedge maze. Several benches had been set out, though only one other was occupied, but Charlotte could not make out who it was in the darkness of the evening.

The air had moved on from the morning's chill to positively frosty, and in no time at all Charlotte was shivering in her backless dress, but was too distracted by the gardens. Viktor, in contrast, hadn't taken his eyes off of Charlotte, and noticed the very first shiver. He unclasped his cloak from the shoulder of his uniform, and draped it over her, hoping that the fur lining the inside would keep her warm enough. Charlotte startled slightly, but drew the cloak around her when she figured out what he had done, and turned to smile at him.

"Thank you."

"You are very velcome."

She reached for his hand and he stepped closer to her to take it, again sliding his thumb over her knuckles with a familiarity that did not speak of knowing each other face to face for only a few hours.

Viktor led them to a bench and waited to for Charlotte to sit before he did; if his feet ached just from his dress shoes, he could not imagine how Charlotte's felt. To his surprise though, when Charlotte shifted the hem of her dress away from the damp grass under them, Viktor spied a pair of practical, flat soled shoes. It appeared that her seemingly perfect height was just that: perfect. As they danced, Charlotte stood to just below his nose, causing them both to have to tip their heads to maintain eye contact. Viktor was used to being one of the tallest in a room, but Charlotte, despite the three inches between them, made him feel as if they were standing on equal footing.

When he had first seen her in the doorway of the entrance hall, Viktor had had the thought that she was quite beautiful, but he hadn't let himself hope that the young woman he had kept from falling the night before would be his Charlotte. But when she had said his name... Very few spoke his name with such familiarity, and he didn't quite think his own parents counted. She had been radiant in the candle light, as beautiful on the outside as she had already proven to be on the inside, and if he had needed another reason to adore her, it had been given when Charlotte smiled at him.

Viktor had expected to feel awkward for the entire night, especially with the way his stomach knotted and writhed, but it seemed that being with Charlotte was as easy as pouring out his heart into a letter addressed to her. She didn't bounce and titter over his prestige of playing for the national Bulgarian quidditch team as most people have; in fact, she didn't care for quidditch much at all, and that alone set her apart. No, Charlotte wasn't interested in his quidditch, or the notoriety that came with his name. She was interested in Viktor, and that... that was what mattered to him.

"It's very surreal," Charlotte said, "finally getting to meet you. We've been writing for so long, inches and inches of parchment, and now I can't think of a thing to say to you."

"You do not haff to say anything," Viktor said. "I did say we could pass notes."

Charlotte found herself laughing without thinking about it.

"I'm afraid I don't have any parchment on me at the moment. Talking will have to suffice."

"Tell me about your auditions," he said. "You are still auditioning, yes?"

"Yes," she said quietly. "Auditions are on December 3rd in London. Dumbledore and Professor Flitwick have already given me permission to attend, especially since I'll be seventeen by then."

"Professor Flitvick?"

"He's head of Ravenclaw House. He teaches Charms."

"And you haff been practicing?"

"You sound like Ada," Charlotte smiled. "Always making sure I make time, she is. Every afternoon in one of the greenhouses."

"You will do well," Viktor said confidently.

"How can you be so certain? You've never heard me sing."

"That is easily changed," he teased.

"No, thank you. Not here."

Charlotte turned her body so she could see Viktor's face more easily.

"I like this," she said, raising her hand to follow the edges of his mask with her fingertip.

Now that she had seen it up close, she could see the bars of music painted behind the gold edges that made up the masks shape.

"I thought you might."

Viktor reached up and slid the mask from his face, and, for the second time in as many days, Charlotte was close enough to see every detail of his face. His nose was rather large, and his jaw structured, and warm honey brown eyes sat under dark, heavy brows. Altogether, Viktor Krum was a very handsome man.

Charlotte slid her mask off just as Viktor did, and though the gold filigree did nothing to hid her identity, removing the mask made her feel more exposed. She wondered what he thought of her. She already knew that he enjoyed her company and her humor and her wit, but a small, irrational voice was whispering in the back of her head that none of that would matter if he didn't think she was pretty. A second voice, one that sounded suspiciously like Ada, told the first voice to shut the hell up, and Charlotte always knew to listed to Ada.

"How's your mother?" Charlotte asked. "Is she still doing good business?"

"She is," Viktor said. "She complains often that I am not around to help her anymore, and says that maybe she should haff a second son, one to live at home. My father leaves the room vhenever she says something so foolish, and I think that is the real reason she says these things."

Charlotte laughed.

"She asks after you often. I think she vorries, especially now that you are on your own," Viktor says quietly.

"That's very sweet of her. I," Charlotte hesitated, but Viktor did not push for her to continue her thought. "I am not well, in the light of things, but I will be, and I have plenty of things to keep me distracted until that time arrives."

"I promised you," Viktor said, pulled her that much closer so their shoulders pressed together, "that I would be happy to give you all that I can, should you ask."

"You are," she said, meeting his eye. "You are doing everything, just by being here."

She laid her head against his shoulder for a brief moment, then stood and straightened her skirts.

"It is nearly midnight," she said, "and I would like another dance before the night ends."

Viktor stood with her, and tucked her arm under his elbow.

"As you wish," he said, smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Halfway back to the castle, as they rounded a hedge, Charlotte and Viktor nearly collided with Professor McGonagall. She was dressed in green velvet robes, and her hair was tied back, though not as tightly as she kept it for lessons.

"There you two are!"

"I apologize," Viktor said with a slight bow. "We did not see you."

"It's quite alright, Mr..."

"Professor McGonagall," Charlotte said, "this is Viktor Krum; he attends Durmstrang. Viktor, Professor McGonagall is a teacher here at Hogwarts. She teaches Transfiguration, and is Head of Gryffindor House."

"Lovely to meet you," McGonagall said, and Viktor nodded, "but the selection ceremony is about to take place, and all those who entered their names must be in attendance."

"We were just headed back inside."

McGonagall nodded, and moved to the side of the pathway so she could follow them back to the Ball. As Charlotte and Viktor passed her, McGonagall caught Charlotte's eye, and, to her embarrassment, winked. It seemed that the good Professor had not forgotten catching Charlotte replying to Viktor's letter.

Back in the Great Hall, the orchestra had moved from the teacher's dais at the front of the room, and had been replaced by Dumbledore and the staff, the Goblet, Mr. Bagman, and Mr. Crouch. The students gathered around were eerily quiet, except for the occasional ruffling of robes. Charlotte and Viktor kept to the back, not wanting to push through the crowd; though, even from the back, Charlotte could see Durmstrang's headmaster, Karkaroff, eyeing both she and Viktor. His gaze made her want to shrink further under Viktor's cloak. Whatever movement she made must have told Viktor that she was still cold, but she didn't mind when he wrapped his arm around her waist.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" - he indicated the door behind the staff table - "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting...A few people kept checking their watches...

"Any second," Charlotte heard someone whisper.

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it - the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

People in the Hall began to clap and cheer, but Charlotte felt like she couldn't breathe. Viktor had been chosen. Viktor was to face challenges that so many previous had perished before. She didn't realize how tightly she was gripping his hand until he turned to her, and raised her hand to kiss the knuckles he had been caressing all night. A different kind of murmur went out among the crowd as Viktor bowed her, and turned to walk through the crowd to the high table.

"Be careful," she whispered as she went.

"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"

The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the Goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

Charlotte didn't clap, too distracted by the previous announcement. Ada was making her way through the crowd, and clasped Charlotte's hand in hers when she reached her. As Ada whispered reassurances in Charlotte's ear, they both almost missed the third, and last, announcement.

The Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"

The Hufflepuff student drowned out the rest of the students as they hollered and cheered. Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers' table. Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real -"

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.

The fire in the Goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out -

"Harry Potter."

Ada gasped in horror, hand covering her mouth. There was no applause. A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting to fill the Hall; some students were standing up to get a better look at Harry as he sat, frozen, in his seat.

Up at the top table, Professor McGonagall had got to her feet and swept past Ludo Bagman and Professor Karkaroff to whisper urgently to Professor Dumbledore, who bent his ear toward her, frowning slightly.

At the top table, Professor Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall.

"Harry Potter!" he called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"

Harry got to his feet, trod on the hem of his robes, and stumbled slightly. He set off up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. The buzzing grew louder and louder. After what seemed like an hour, he was right in front of Dumbledore, feeling the stares of all the teachers upon him.

"Well...through the door, Harry," said Dumbledore. He wasn't smiling.

Sunday, November 1st

Charlotte dropped herself into a chair as the Hall cleared of students. Ada stood by her, waving away some of the more curious friends that had come to have a word, most likely about Viktor Krum. The teachers ushered students off to bed, but when the two were approached by Professor Flitwick, Ada stood her ground.

"To bed with you both," Flitwick said. "Merlin knows we've had enough excitement for the night."

Ada started to argue, but halted her words when Charlotte spoke softly.

"Professor Flitwick, Viktor Krum and I have been very close friends for a number of years, and I would very much like to speak to him when the judges are through giving the Champions their instructions."

Charlotte, who hardly made a fuss, or asked for things for herself, earned herself a curious eye.

"One o'clock, but no later," he said firmly. "Ms. Fane, you may keep her company as you are a prefect."

"Thank you, Professor," Ada said.

Ada sank into a chair next to Charlotte, and took her best friend's hand.

"Ventured out into the gardens, did you?" Ada asked wearily, gesturing to the Durmstrang cloak that Charlotte still wore around her shoulders.

Charlotte nodded. "Ada, what if - "

"No. There are no 'what if's. There is only what is, and the only thing for certain at this very moment is that Viktor has been chosen as the Durmstrang champion. The Ministry has worked all summer to design tasks that are difficult, not impossible, and none of them would approve something likely to get a student killed. Viktor is a capable wizard, and he will survive this."

Charlotte's only response was to grip Ada's hand tighter.

Though they feared having to wait for a time, in reality the Hall couldn't have been empty of other students for more than twenty minutes before the Champions reappeared. Madame Maxime and Fleur came first, both obviously upset by something, most likely Harry Potter's entrance into the Tournament. Viktor and Karkaroff came next. The older man tried to usher Viktor out of the castle, but when Charlotte stood and Viktor caught her eye, he pulled away from his headmaster. Ada gave Charlotte's hand one last squeeze, then headed towards the entrance hall to give the two of them some privacy. Karkaroff did not; he stood, waiting impatiently, right where Viktor had walked away from him. Charlotte paid him no mind.

"I know I told you I didn't want you to be Champion, but you know I'm behind you, right? I just... I don't..."

"You vorry," Viktor said, taking her hands in his.

"Yes."

"If I tell you not to vorry, you vill vorry more."

"Yes."

"Then I will not tell you such. Charlotte, the Tournament is meant to be dangerous, but not deadly."

"You're not telling me anything Ada hasn't already, but is it too much to ask that everyone I care for think about their own safety so I don't have to?"

Viktor smirked, and pulled her closer so that he could wrap his arms around her.

"I like knoving you vorry, if only," he said over her protests, "because it lets me know you care."

"Why else would I worry about you bunch of bloody idiots?" Charlotte said waspishly. "Promise me you're going to be careful."

"I promise," Viktor said seriously, "that I vill be careful. I do not mean to add to your vorry."

"I worry about everything," Charlotte sighed.

"I know vell. I vill see you in the morning. Breakfast?"

"I'll be up at seven."

"Vhy so early?" Viktor huffed.

Charlotte leaned away from him so she could look him in the eye and raise an eyebrow.

"I know very well that your classes begin at six-thirty in the morning, Viktor Krum. Don't talk to me about early."

Viktor smiled, and pulled her closer again, this time for a hug. Charlotte wrapped her arms around him, and did her best to affix well wishes and good intentions to him before it was too late. Viktor pulled away with a final smile that fell short of his eyes, and made to return to his headmaster.

"Viktor, your cloak," Charlotte said.

"Keep it until you are warm," he said, raising her hand to kiss her knuckles again.

He stepped back and bowed formally to her, which shouldn't have been as endearing as it was.

"Goodnight, Viktor."

"Goodnight, Charlotte."