21

Victoria strode through the hall with long strides, her footsteps sharp and loud. A harsh wind blew against the windows, rattling them all and chilling the corridor. She could've brought her coat, but her irritation was like a flame in her chest. Sometimes she hated the weather here. And sometimes she hated that stupid boy, always so careless about deadlines and schedules and other things he considered beneath him.

At last she reached the tower door. She still couldn't believe Malfoy had become the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and that she had gotten her own private tower. It was like something out of her worst nightmares. Even after all these years it was difficult to accept the reality of Malfoy getting whatever she wanted. Victoria knocked on the wood loudly. Though… she had become somewhat subdued over the summer and her worst qualities rarely showed themselves these days. And admittedly as a result her classes were actually quite nice. Maybe they'd even be enjoyable, if she had never met Lyra Malfoy before this year.

The door slowly opened then, just as a voice from further in and out of sight called out her name.

"Hey, Vicky. How are you doing?" said James, and when she stepped in she saw his feet on the couch's armrest in front of the fireplace, the rest of his body hidden by the couch back. God, she hoped James wasn't able to see through walls.

Then she remembered what she was here for, and she said sharply, "How am I? Flitwick told us only a couple of hours ago that we have to be down at the entrance hall to greet the Beauxbatons students. And they're here."

"Right, the foreigners," said James, sitting up but with a book still twelve inches from his face. "Only because you insist."

"I'd not rather be late because I had to convince you to come," said Victoria, and she looked around for Lyra, finding her immediately at her desk against the great window covering most of the western wall, her head bent as she was grading papers, or drawing out schematics for what'll kill everyone in the castle one day. "Malfoy, aren't you supposed to be there too?"

"Professor Malfoy," said James serenely.

"Why exactly am I supposed to be there?" said Lyra without turning away from her work.

"Because," said Victoria, "you are, regrettably, a professor, and should they not be down there with, oh I don't know, the rest of the staff?"

"Hm." Lyra looked out the window for a moment, then said as she looked back down, "No, I don't think so."

"She's intimidated," said James. "She looks like a child next to the rest of the staff. And her veela is finally here, so she's a bit nervous too."

Victoria couldn't stop the smile from forming on her face. "Oh, of course." She turned back to Lyra and said, "Didn't you say last year that some veela girl was coming here to fall in love with you?"

Lyra kept silent beyond the scratching of her pen. Yeah, definitely subdued. Lyra Malfoy was not a girl to let herself be teased without due payback.

"You know," said Victoria, "there's a rumor going around that you're a Seer." The scratching paused a split-second too long, and a little satisfaction flashed through her. "But I keep thinking, if she could see the future, then she surely wouldn't have ever let the Incident of October '89 happen."

The scratching slowed, and she just barely heard Lyra take a breath. Then she said, "Victoria, you know I'll enjoy nightly detention with you far more than you will."

Victoria shut her mouth and tried not to grimace, then glanced at James and raised her eyebrows and mouthed, What's her deal?

He shrugged helplessly, as if to say, You know how it is.

No, she most certainly did not, but before she could say anything more they were interrupted by quick footsteps of someone running outside —

Then Larissa slammed against the open door, panting but beaming.

"Lyra!" she said, her smile somehow widening. "And James! And Vicky!"

It seemed even whatever had Lyra in her mood could not withstand the sheer force of personality that was Larissa Clarke; she actually turned around in her seat, arm on the backrest, a small glint of delight in her eyes.

"The other schools just show up?"

Larissa deflated a little. "How did you know? You're not using Legilimency on me, are you? You promised you wouldn't."

"I don't use Legilimency on just anyone," said Lyra with some exasperation, and Victoria nearly scoffed, but Larissa was already bounding over to the desk, using Lyra's shoulders to steady and straighten herself on her toes. "You just didn't hear Victoria scolding me for not coming down. She's worse than my mother sometimes."

"Do you want to head down?" asked James to Victoria before she could say anything.

She gave a glance and nodded, but couldn't help but continue watching Lyra and Larissa.

"Oh, and you can see them from here." Larissa lowered herself then, wrapping her arms around Lyra's shoulders and putting their heads close together, where Victoria just barely made out the words, "Hey, you've been cooped up here all evening. Come down with me?"

Lyra swiveled the chair slightly to look up at Larissa with noncommitment.

"Come on, we could pet those abraxans," said Larissa. "We might be able to ride one."

Some interest found its way into Lyra's expression, and she said, "That does sound like fun."

"Especially if it's just one," said Larissa.

Lyra snorted and James said, "No wonder you two have been hanging out more lately. You're an accomplice to her crimes, you know."

Larissa threw him a look over her shoulder and said, "Like you?"

"You can't prove anything," said James without any pause.

Her expression turned flatter, then she turned back to quietly pleading with Lyra.

Victoria gave James the same look, then said, "Well? Let's go. They're probably going to reach the castle soon."

He nodded and headed for the door, and she followed, leaving the two blondes behind. She didn't care if Professor Malfoy was asked for when she wasn't down there.

"Is… Are Larissa and Lyra…?" she said once the door was shut and they were in the corridor.

James raised his eyebrows and started their walk to the entrance hall. "Seriously? Larissa might flirt, but Lyra… I don't know. I don't think so. Larissa just doesn't care much for people's personal space."

"Yeah," she said, "it's just… you know how she was after Roger. I wouldn't want her to go through that again."

"Lyra doesn't want to date anyone right now," he said. "And to be honest, I don't think I want to either."

They went down the stairs without word, only the rattling windows filling the silence, then they slipped behind the tapestry of an English longbowman mooning a French knight, a shortcut upward to the first floor. In the dark she pulled out her wand and sent a moving light up the stairs with them. The upward steps with the narrow platforms could be hard to navigate, but it would cut their travel time down to a third.

"Moody almost killed me in here once," said James conversationally. "Thought I was spying on him."

"Oh, really?" said Victoria. "How many times does that make? Three?"

"Four."

Victoria let out a breath of disbelief. "Why does Dumbledore keep hiring the most unhinged people? The last few years especially." She rolled her eyes. "And somehow Lyra is the sanest out of them all." She considered not continuing but then figured she'd take Lyra's advice and just be bold: "But something obviously happened to her over the summer to mellow her out, right? And I mean not a good something."

"You honestly don't want to know," said James.

"I think something happened to you too, even if you're hiding it better."

"I am quite fine."

"Lyra sometimes falls asleep in our class because she's so exhausted all the time; other than that she's not really a bad teacher, once I get past our history, but still, the lack of any formality or care —"

"Your history?" said James. "You mean the years of anger and envy, simmering barely underneath that facade?"

Victoria rolled her eyes and said, "You're ridiculous." Probably too quickly. "I don't know why it is that the two of you are so inseparable."

"We separate from each other just fine. And to be fair, Vicky, I don't see you defending each of my acts of stupidity. Remember last week when I finally finished my prototype anti-dragon armor? I remember you told me I was being an idiot. Larissa said I was an idiot, Moe just laughed at me. The only one to cheer me on was Lyra." He shook his head fondly. "She laughed at me afterwards though."

"That was your anti-dragon thing?" said Victoria. "What did jumping off the Astronomy Tower have to do with it?"

"You know," he said. "It would need to be able to fall from heights and take big hits, that sort of thing."

"Why fall from heights?"

James seemed more and more uncertain as he dug deeper into his reasoning. "I thought I might have to try and wrangle them, and if they threw me off…"

She squinted at him, having no idea if he was serious, and shook her head, unable to not smile a little.

The shortcut came out of an iron maiden near the hospital wing. Whoever made the entrance a torture device next to the infirmary certainly had a sense of irony.

The entrance hall was darkened by the dusk, but the dozens of braziers had been lit in all four colors of the Hogwarts houses, radiating warmth for the visitors. Victoria and James shuffled around the edge of the crowd, pressing against the walls, to reach the staff and foreign prefects.

"Finally," Emily murmured as they joined Cedric's side. "Off doing prefect duties, were you?" Victoria scrunched her nose up a little, but before she could get a word in, Dumbledore raised his hands and the buzzing settled.

"Welcome, guests, to Hogwarts!" he said, beaming at the foreign students. "We are most honored to host you here for the duration of the Tournament, and I trust that your stay will be both comfortable and enjoyable. I understand Headmaster Karkaroff and Headmistress Maxime have arranged accommodations for you all, but as this is an opportunity to foster friendship and cooperation as much as competition, we have arranged enough guest quarters for all of you, should you only wish it. Our lovely prefects have volunteered to give guided tours before dinnertime, and I am sure they would love to hear any questions from you. Thank you."

Victoria and James stepped to one side of the hall with Cedric and Emily, following the lead of their house prefects one year their senior; on the opposite end of the hall, the Gryffindor and Slytherin prefects did the same, though they each acted as if the other had a bad case of Dragon Pox. The visitors began dividing themselves into their own groups, and Victoria found herself approached by the Beauxbatons students.

The eye could only find the girl first. She was, perhaps, the most gorgeous girl Victoria had ever seen. Every feature of hers was almost perfect, and the few flaws served to bring back down to earth. It felt as though her very presence introduced some new avenue of perceiving the world. Forcing herself out of her trance, she turned to find that James and Cedric were all similarly awed.

Cedric regained his composure first. "Hello, everyone," he said with a boyish smile that visibly relaxed the foreign students. "My name is Cedric, and I'll be one of your hosts for this evening. There's a good couple of you here… Maybe we should split up into two more groups?"

"That's probably better," said James, looking towards their seniors, who seemed to be thinking the exact same thing. "Let's do that."

"Very well," said the French girl. "Louis?"

The other prefect was an androgynous-looking boy that somewhat reminded Victoria of Lyra's father, if one replaced the cold disdain with careless self-importance. He wore a stylish steel-blue wizard's suit with a light cloak of baby blue draped about his shoulders.

"Oui," said the boy prefect. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Louis Auguste Armand-Jean de Bousquet, Vicomte de Belleau — but, if you wish, you may simply call me Louis."

Victoria had no idea what to say to that, but before she or the others could respond, the girl spoke.

"Fleur Delacour," she said, sounding almost dainty, as she seemed to be in all things. "I think I shall go with you blues."

"Alas, I was going to pick them," said Louis, then turning to the Hufflepuff, "but I suppose it will be the yellows who suffer me." And then he walked past them, already heading for the grand staircase. "Come! I am eager to explore your castle!"

James turned to Fleur Delacour. "Library? Prefect bathroom? It has a pool," he added when Fleur gave him an odd look, sounding somewhat embarrassed. It was a new look on him, and the realization why made something in her chest constrict strangely.

"The library and one of your towers," said Delacour, "unless there are more exciting things here in 'Ogwarts?"

Victoria opened her mouth to name a few —

"Nope," said James.

Victoria shot him a look.

"I thought not," said Fleur, with just a subtle enough dismissal in her tone to actually irritate Victoria.

"Then the library, the Astronomy Tower, the Hospital Wing, and wherever in between," said James. "And we can finish up where we started."

Victoria nodded and turned back to the visitors, and did her best to give a charming smile like Cedric's.

"Welcome, again," she said. "My name is Victoria, and this is James. I think we'll start our tour by introducing you to our library — but please, if you do have any questions, we would both be happy to answer."

"Thank you, Victoire, James," said Fleur, and Victoria ignored the butchery of her name in favor of giving her a smile that she hoped didn't appear like a grimace.

James could be quite the enthusiastic tour guide, Victoria soon realized. He was animated as he explained the history of Hogwarts, although Victoria was fairly certain some parts were entirely made up ("Peeves once tried to give Snape a haircut, but his hair was so greasy the scissors just fell apart"). Still, though, judging by the small smile on Fleur's face and easy laughter coming from the other ten girls, they certainly didn't mind it, whether it was true or not.

Victoria's insides twisted a bit. Was he just doing this to impress them, then? They were quite pretty, she supposed, and Fleur so beautiful that it put every other individual to shame.

Then someone bumped into her, just enough to catch her attention, and Victoria turned her head to look at an athletic, dark-skinned girl.

"So, Victoire," she said, and her accent was an almost melodic mixture of French and something African. "Why do you wear blue and the others wore yellow?"

"We have four Houses, each created by the four founders of this school," said Victoria. "Red for Gryffindor, green for Slytherin, yellow for Hufflepuff, and blue for Ravenclaw. Rowena Ravenclaw valued wit and knowledge in her students, so those she would take as her proteges would wear blue cravats, and the tradition has continued since."

She hummed, then nodded. "Thank you," she said. And then, "My name is Amelie."

"Wit and knowledge? So you are scholars, then?" said Fleur, walking a bit too close to James in her humble opinion. "What subjects do you favor?"

"Ah — I suppose I enjoy arithmancy," he said.

Fleur made a sound of feigned surprise. "Arithmancy! Louis takes Arithmancy, you know — 'e and 'is Arithmancy friends are all pale, thin creatures who dwell in the libraries and see no sunlight."

"You will learn soon that we need twelve Abraxans only to carry Fleur's ego," said one of the other girls.

"God, it's another Lyra," muttered James, and Victoria stifled a snort. A rapid-fire discussion in French led to a round of giggling. Fleur rolled her eyes.

"They do not lift anything 'eavier than a textbook," she continued. "Their strength atrophies into nothing. You though, James…" She not-so-subtly checked out his arms. Then said, "You do not read much, I imagine." Her words were even enough that Victoria couldn't tell if it was intended to be a compliment or an insult.

"No, he doesn't," said Victoria.

"I do read," he said indignantly. "I'm still a Ravenclaw, aren't I?"

Victoria tried not to be too obvious as she glanced at James; he almost always brushed off things like this, but of course this Delacour girl gets him flustered. The more he talked to her the more he seemed to turn into a complete idiot.

Then James said, as if to get away from the topic, "Here's the library."

Inside practically every French student looked impressed, perhaps even somewhat grudgingly; Victoria savored the look of reluctant awe on Fleur's face. Bookshelves stood tall like Cliffs of Dover, towering over the students who walked between them, and books fluttered near the ceiling like seagulls, diving upon the students below to try and catch their attention. Even higher above, the dark-blue ceiling glittered with constellations that mirrored the real stars' movements. Victoria could see Madam Pince among one of the far-off shelves, standing comfortably upon a platform barely a foot wide and thirty feet above the floor, and from here she looked like a bowtruckle among the trees.

"Welcome to the biggest archive of magical knowledge in all of Europe," said James. "There's a complete copy of the Epic of Gilgamesh in there somewhere."

"Really?" said Victoria. "A complete copy?"

"Got to keep up that proud British tradition of looting other cultures," James said. "But yeah, it's somewhere in the basement with all the tablets and scrolls, if you care to take a look."

"I didn't realize our collection stretched so far back."

"Oh, you'll be surprised," said James, but his smile faded a bit, discomfort marring his features. "Gilgamesh doesn't even come close to being the oldest piece of literature in Hogwarts."

Before Victoria could ask him to elaborate, though, James turned to the foreigners. "That's Madam Pince over there. She's a harpy, but she knows her stuff. If you catch her on a good day she'll find the most obscure of requests for you."

"I will be making use of 'er then," said Fleur, eyes tracing the tree-like bookshelves around the center of the library where more comfortable chairs were strewn about for those wishing to lean back and simply read.

"We'd best not get bogged down here," said James. "We could explore the library all evening and not scratch the surface."

They emerged from the library and walked through the corridors, lit by the afternoon sun peeking through the massive granite pillars and stained glass windows. While the passing students and the portraits from above all stared at their passing, the French students did not seem particularly impressed, at least until they reached their next destination.

The grand staircase once more caused them to stop and stare. Victoria tilted her head back, until she could capture the enormity of the staircase. Far, far above them — far enough that clouds formed on colder nights and it rained — was the skylight, from which light beamed down as if from a second sun, causing floating specks of dust to glitter around them. Staircases of varying sizes and materials and styles, added one by one throughout the millennia-old history of the school, swung gently back and forth like pendulums, some with the grinding of stone against stone, while others produced not even a whisper.

"'Ow 'igh does it go?" said a French girl, squinting up above.

"Nobody's ever reached the ceiling," said James. "I've tried. It just keeps going. We think it might go to the Moon."

"Truly?" said another.

"Of course not," said Fleur, rolling her eyes, then looking at them two. "I 'ope you do not expect me to climb all these."

"It won't take long, I promise," said James. "There's something I just have to show you before you leave this place."

"It will not take long?"

"Nah."

Soon they learned this was a lie. Perhaps for some it was a tolerable experience; James continued up with a bounce in his step, and some of the more Quidditch-minded girls seemed unfazed, but Victoria was currently regretting not pushing Flitwick harder about James' prefectship. Finally, after what felt like hours of climbing (but probably closer to five minutes, in truth), they reached the final shifting staircase in the room. It was the newest one, enchanted by Headmaster Dippet himself back in 1932, carved from white marble and adorned with handholds of polished hickory. Only a thin, spiral, stationary staircase connected this platform with the unoccupied rooms — and the undiscovered ceiling — above.

"It is very pretty, I suppose," said Fleur, sounding very unimpressed. Victoria would have echoed the sentiment, if she could speak at all.

"Yeah," said James, looking up. The skylight was no closer than it had been before. His hand inched towards a suspiciously unassuming lever. When he looked at Victoria, he seemed to be trying, and failing, to stifle a smile. Though she was still out of breath, she had to interject.

"James," she said, dangerously, "did you bring us all up just for this?"

James' smile widened, and he met everyone else's eyes.

"Bon voyage," he called, and pulled the lever.

All the staircases turned into slides under their feet. Victoria was certain that whatever grudge the French students had about the bleakness of Hogwarts disappeared almost immediately, their arms waving wildly as they rocketed down the borderline suicidal slide set like they were on a rollercoaster. Magic kept them safe, but it was a little hard to remember that while going around a corner at a hundred miles per hour.

At one point, screams of excitement turned into horror as the connecting staircase suddenly moved away from their path; they fell into the air, and for a moment all Victoria felt was floaty weightlessness, and she briefly met the eyes of a shocked Hogwarts student that had been climbing upstairs. Thankfully, she felt stone pressing against her back once more, and she safely slid onto the ground floor, sighing as she bumped into Amelie like a lawn bowl and sent her sliding a few feet away.

"Sorry about the air time," said James, not sounding sorry at all. "Sometimes the stairs are already occupied, so we have to take detours."

"We must do that again," said Amelie breathlessly.

"You may but I will not," said another girl, looking a bit faint. "I thought to myself, 'ow bad could it be?"

"I'm going to kill you," Victoria said.

James only smiled and held out a hand for her to pull herself up by. She reluctantly took it, dusted off her robes, and glanced at the others to make sure they were all present. They were, though perhaps a few of them had left pieces of themselves behind, judging by the way they looked as though they'd snogged Dementors on the way down. Fleur, though, gracefully folded her legs under herself and stood up, not a hair out of place.

"Well," she said slowly, "I suppose that was entertaining. Childish, however."

"So you liked it?" said James hopefully, and after a moment of consideration, Fleur decided to ignore him. Then he turned to the others and said, "Now let's go back to the top and jump off — that's much more fun."

"No!" said Victoria alongside others, while some such as Amelie, said "Yes!"

"Absolutely not," said Victoria.

"We 'ave spent enough time climbing already," said Fleur.

"Yeah," said James, sounding a bit disappointed. "Yeah, I guess we did."

"Come, girls," Fleur said. "Let us not keep our guides waiting."

"There's not much left, anyways," said James. "That's the Hospital Wing. You might've seen it on your way up. Madam Pomfrey's lovely. Complete opposite of Madam B — Pince, Madam Pince. That's the hourglasses with house points — looks like Slytherin's in the lead again, how typical of Snape — and this is our great hall."

Inside, the tables were already halfway filled, and the Durmstrang contingents had already seated themselves at the Slytherin table. Younger students watched the visitors curiously, though most did not try to speak to them. James and Victoria led the Beauxbatons students down the Ravenclaw bench, and sat on the end nearest the head table.

"That's Hagrid, our groundskeeper," said James, gesturing, and Hagrid waved. "Top bloke, really. That's Sinistra. And then there's Flitwick, our Head of House, he teaches Charms. There's Sprout, then McGonagall, and you know who Dumbledore is, of course…"

Victoria turned her head, then, and saw Larissa and Moe enter the hall, the former unashamedly skipping through the crowds in their direction. Moe saw that his usual spot opposite James was occupied by the visitors, and stopped beside a French blonde and immediately began chatting her up with a confidence Victoria envied. Larissa, on the other hand, had no such thoughts, and forcibly squeezed herself in between her and James, raising complaints from both of them.

"Hi!" she chirped to the Beauxbatons students. "Welcome to Hogwarts! I hope the tour was good — don't mind James and Vicky if it was rough, though — James doesn't like French people and Vicky doesn't know how to talk to people at all — but I promise you're all welcome here!" She smiled brightly, never the one to care if she was being too much when it came to first impressions.

Fleur took her in stride, however, and said, "Non, they were acceptable."

Acceptable, mouthed James.

"Really?" said Larissa, turning to Victoria. "See, I told you people watching would help with your social skills."

Victoria felt her ears warm. "Larissa," she said. She had been spending far too much time with Lyra as of late.

"Right, sorry," said Larissa insincerely. Then she turned to the foreigners and said, "So what did you all think of the school? Boring? Unexpected? Cozy? Spooky?"

"Boring, yes," said Fleur without care. "Unexpected, maybe; it 'ad depths I did not expect. Cozy, not so much."

"The library looks like a wonderland," said Amelie. "I could spend days in there and not come out."

James smiled a little. "Hey, Vicky, do you remember back when our prefect once said that you could get lost in the library for a few days if you weren't careful, and you took that as a challenge?"

Victoria's smile was much more tight. "How could I forget?"

Footsteps then caught her attention, and looked toward the doors to see Lyra halfway up the hall, making her way toward the head table. As she approached, James leaned out and stopped her in her tracks.

"Hey, Professor," he said, "let me introduce you to my new French friends. Since you weren't, you know, there for the welcoming party."

Fleur raised her eyebrows at the title as she looked over Lyra.

Lyra slowed near them, her eyes sweeping through the row of Beauxbatons students, then she came around to the end of the table and gave them all a polite smile.

"Hello you all," she said, clasping her hands together. "I'm Lyra Malfoy, professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts. I'm actually really excited to teach you all this year."

"'Ow old are you?" said Fleur with a tiny bit of awe and incredulity in her voice. "Professor?" she added after a beat, with a small smile that seemed to Victoria like a polite mask over open skepticism.

Lyra smiled at her, one that actually reached her eyes, rare lately, and said, "Seventeen." Fleur raised her eyebrows further, and some of the other students looked at her in astonishment. "I graduated last year, early — and I've been considered, by Dumbledore himself, to be the greatest witch to ever walk these halls."

"He did not say that," said James, rolling his eyes. Fleur seemed intrigued yet skeptical, elbow on the table and chin on her fist.

"He did," said Lyra, her smile turning pleased as she looked at him. "He also said he wants to keep an eye on me and make sure I don't go mad with the freedom I could have once I was out from under his thumb. Bastard." Then she looked back at the foreign students and said, "I'll also be looking to learn from you all as well. I very nearly went to Beauxbatons, and I'll be curious how we might do things differently." A light like amusement entered her eyes then as she looked at Fleur. "And don't worry, Fleur Delacour, I'm sure I'll be able to teach you at least a little something."

Fleur sat a little straighter and said, "I should 'ope so. They call me the greatest witch in Beauxbatons, but even I would 'estitate at the role of a professor."

"Well, I suppose Hogwarts has Beauxbatons beat there," said Lyra, a damned twinkle in her eyes as she swept away and up to the head table where she sat among her fellow professors. And Fleur watched every step, her lips almost pursing in some unknown emotion. And Larissa's too, for that matter.

Then Dumbledore stood as Lyra sat, and it was just so frustrating to see that his address had been delayed by her arrival, that she was, as always, having people go out of her way to convenience her.

"Good evening, all!" he said, his voice cutting through all the clatter and chatter. "I once again take great pleasure in welcoming you to Hogwarts…"

Victoria had heard the same speech earlier, though now it was modified to subtly address the Hogwarts students on their expected conduct with guests over. At length, when he was finished, Dumbledore returned to his seat, and the tables suddenly creaked with the weight of hundreds of plates, bowls, and mugs appearing from thin air. The scent of butter and garlic and citrus filled Victoria's face, as beef and poultry and seafood appeared before her and, for the first time she'd ever seen, glasses and bottles of wine, though only where the visitors sat.

"This is a pleasant surprise," said Fleur, as she plated some salad and passed the bowl along to her friends. "They even brought the wines… I 'ad thought all you English would be drinking ale."

"We don't get alcohol at all," said James. All the French students in earshot looked at him like he'd grown two heads and Larissa threw a glance of disdain toward the head table.

"Then I shall choose for you," said Fleur, taking and unscrewing a bottle of sauvignon blanc with a twist of her wand, then letting it flow into four tall glasses. "This will go well with the bisque you are clearly interested in."

And Victoria couldn't deny it: after some bites of the bisque, a creamy and seasoned lobster soup with a low heat hidden underneath, the chilled wine was like diving into snow after a sauna. Slowly, the visiting students warmed to them a bit more, and while Fleur remained somewhat aloof, Victoria found she was able to speak to Amelie and a few other girls more easily.

Soon, the plates left untouched for however long began to disappear one by one, and then they were replaced by desserts, tarts and pies and cakes and other pastries, fresh from the oven.

"James! The cherry tart!" said Larissa.

James waved his hand absently, and the pastry floated over to her; Victoria didn't miss the way the French girls' eyes widened slightly, and even Fleur paused her movements to watch. With how lackadaisical James was they were probably wondering if everyone in Hogwarts was that accomplished. And after Fleur's earlier comments, Victoria would rather let them believe.

She herself was still a bit in admiration of the kind of feats he could perform, and so often without realizing few others could. Perhaps as a Muggleborn he didn't fully appreciate the mediocrity of the norm; and being friends with the twins, Cedric, and Lyra Malfoy certainly wouldn't help. Or perhaps the basilisk incident had affected him more than Victoria had thought. Back then, Victoria had only cared that he had lost much of his arrogance, but the problem might be deeper than that.

Before she could speak, however, Headmaster Dumbledore stood and stepped up behind the podium, and when he raised his hands, the hall fell silent almost immediately. He smiled warmly at them all.

"Now that your hunger is sated," he said, "let us discuss the topic I am sure has been on your minds since it was announced: the Triwizard Tournament. Three tasks! Spaced throughout the school year, they will test the champions' magical prowess, their cunning and wisdom, adaptability and ingenuity — and, of course, their courage. As you know, there will be three champions selected for the tournament, one from each school, and they will be chosen by an impartial selector."

The cup that Dumbledore removed from the casket was a plain and ugly thing, unremarkable if not for the blue-white flames flickering about inside.

"Students of age may submit a slip of parchment with their names and the school they represent during the next twenty-four hours," said Dumbledore. "To ensure underage students do not nominate themselves, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it is placed in the entrance hall…"

"That's a shame," sighed Larissa.

Victoria gave her a look and whispered, "You weren't going to enter, were you?"

"No, but now the fantasy is ruined." She turned to James. "You'll share the prize money with me, right?"

"Yeah, sure," said James.

As Dumbledore concluded his speech and some students began to rise to leave, Victoria said to him, "Are you actually doing it?"

"I don't know." A pause. "Mr. Weasley thinks I should if I want to."

"But do you want to?"

James just gave a helpless shrug, staring at his cup of tea. Victoria dearly wished she could say something, struggling with this decision as he was, but she didn't quite know what. In the end, Larissa was the one to break the silence.

"I think," she said thoughtfully, "you should think about if you're going to regret not doing it."

James gave her a begrudging smile and said, "That's the excuse Lyra uses every time she does something stupid."

Larissa nodded with some sort of pride. "But it's not always about being stupid — it's about, you know, pushing your boundaries, creating special memories, taking advantage of what life puts in your path. If you don't want to, that's okay! But if you do, I'll be cheering you on all the way." She beamed at him.

He gave a soft laugh and smile, and said, "Thank you."

Victoria's own lips began to tug upward. She could definitely picture Larissa doing just that, dressed in Ravenclaw colors, and maybe herself as well beside her. And it wouldn't be because James was a Ravenclaw or because he was worthy of the position, it would be because he was her friend, and that was what friends did.