Dear James and Lily,
I regret to inform you that tonight Harry's name came out of the Goblet of Fire. We do not yet know how this happened, as Harry is not the only Hogwarts champion, and he says that he did not try to enter. Alastor believes that someone bewitched the goblet to believe there were four schools, so Harry's name would be the only one in his school. It does seem a credible theory; however there is no clue as to who would have done this. I am sorry to say that due to binding magical contract, Harry must compete. Unfortunately, there is nothing else to be done.
Sincerely,
A. Dumbledore
It was after dinner on Monday, and Lily was curled up on the couch, reading a book and drinking tea. James was doing paperwork at the table. Though his work as an auror did not have much, thankfully, he still had to do it sometimes. A rap sounded on the window. They both looked up.
"I wonder if that's Harry telling us who the Triwizard champion is," James said.
"It's not Hedwig," Lily said as she headed to the window. She took the letter from the strange owl, and opened it. Her teacup slipped from her hand and shattered on the floor. James started to his feet, as her wide, panicked eyes met his. "James," she gasped.
"What happened?" he demanded, crossing quickly over to her.
Unable to speak, she handed him the letter with trembling hands. She watched his face harden as he quickly read the letter. He crumpled the letter in his fist when he finished.
"How could this happen?!" he exploded and started pacing around the room. "How could they let him compete? Don't they realize how many people die in this tournament?!"
Lily shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. The thought of her baby unwillingly being forced to compete in a competition that might get him killed. James had stopped as soon as he had said those words, looking as if he regretted them.
"Lily," he walked back over to her and hugged her. Lily melted into his embrace.
"It's a binding magical contract," she whispered, "He has no choice."
"I know," James sighed. "But… damn it, Lily, why is it always our son?"
Lily pulled away from him and walked restlessly around the room, running a hand through her hair. "You know why." They stared at each other, each remembering the prophesy and a Halloween thirteen years before. Lily turned away first and resumed pacing the room. James sat on the couch.
"Do you think someone is trying to kill him?" she asked, bluntly in a slightly chocked voice.
James groaned. He ran both hands through his hair, messing it up more than usual. "Probably," he replied finally. "But Voldemort's tried to kill him multiple times before and never succeeded."
"It only takes once," Lily snapped, then shut her eyes with guilt. James was only trying to make her feel better. "I'm sorry. You're right. He'll probably get through it fine. He got through the enchantments guarding the Sorcerer's Stone in his first year."
James nodded, although, like her, he did not seem convinced. "There's no point worrying about it yet. For now, we just need to write to him, and let him know we support him."
Lily nodded, glad of something to do and hurried to get a paper and quill.