October 1994

As promised, Bethany followed Hermione's directions to the kitchens the day after Sirius's letter had arrived, and sealed the elf-master bond with Dobby, who had sobbed with joy. They had had to negotiate on salary - Bethany's initial offer of a galleon a week had seemed pretty low, but Dobby almost had a panic attack, saying it was far too much.

In the end, they agreed that she would pay him a galleon a month, and he could get or make whatever clothes he wanted.

For now, she had instructed him to stay with the Hogwarts elves - it wasn't like she had a home for him to look after yet.

She could have sent him to Jess, except she knew that the woman still held a grudge against the little elf for all of his 'help' in her second year.

Also she wasn't sure Dobby and a Muggle neighbourhood was the best combination.

Weeks passed, and Sirius still hadn't replied. Everyone seemed oblivious to Bethany and Hermione's joint worries, as they scanned the post owls every morning, and not even Ron seemed to notice the dark circles under their eyes.

Only lessons were keeping Bethany's mind off of whatever horrible things that could happen, and they were becoming more demanding than ever, particularly Defence Against the Dark Arts.

It had become Bethany's favourite subject last year, and she did still enjoy it, but Moody was a whole new level of intense.

Not content with simply showing them the Unforgivables, he had spent one lesson putting them all under the Imperius Curse to teach them how to throw it off.

Only Bethany and Hermione had had any luck.

Bethany had fought it on the first try and ended up throwing herself at a desk, rather than jump on to it - so Moody had cast it four more times until she could throw it off completely.

Hermione hadn't even seemed affected by the curse at all, which had surprised everyone, including Moody, who had grumbled something about her being a hard one to control.

Everyone else was duly distracted by the announcement that the delegates from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons would be arriving the evening before Halloween, in time for the announcement of the three champions the following evening.

Of course it was happening on Halloween.

Bethany hated Halloween.

The impending arrival seemed to put a spell on the castle. The Tournament was the only subject of conversation, the teachers were even snapper than usual, the paintings had been scrubbed so completely the subjects were grumbling about rashes, the suits of armour had stopped squeaking, and Filch was behaving so ferociously that he'd reduced two poor first years to tears.

Hermione noticed very little of this, and her demeanour was far more of a concern to Bethany than the Tournament. Her best friend was suffering from constant headaches, and no amount of pain reliever potions would work.

After a week, Hermione taught herself the Silencing Charm and placed it on her bed-curtains, making Bethany promise that she would be the only one to open them, and only when Lavender and Parvati were gone.

Bethany was fairly sure she was sleeping in her Animagus form, but she never looked to confirm her suspicion.

By Friday, Hermione seemed to have recovered somewhat, and she and Bethany were chatting about who the other judges might be, when Bethany glanced up and saw Hedwig fluttering towards them, causing her to choke on her bacon.

Ron thumped her on the back and Ginny leaned in to whisper something to Hermione, before drawing the twins into a conversation.

Bethany removed the two letters from Hedwig's leg, and passed one of them to Hermione.

The trio squeezed together to read the letters, after giving Hedwig some bacon rind after a few indignant hoots.

Bethany unrolled hers first.

Nice try, Bethany.

I'm back in the country, and well-hidden. I want you to keep me posted on everything that happens at Hogwarts. Don't use Hedwig; keep changing owls. And don't worry about me; just watch out for yourself.

Remember what I said about your scar.

Love

Sirius

"Well," she said heavily. "Looks like you have to get up earlier than I did to fool a Marauder. And I got up pretty damn early. What about yours, Mione?"

Hermione opened it and passed it over, since Bethany was in the middle of the three.

Dear Hermione

Firstly, I promise I won't do anything stupid. I can't very well help anyone that way.

Secondly, you were right; I got Beth's letter a few hours after yours. I'm telling her this too, but remind him to keep using different owls. Hedwig stands out too much.

Thank you for passing on Cissa's message - it did make perfect sense to me.

I've told Beth to tell me everything odd that happens at Hogwarts, but I have a feeling that she'll hold back, so I want you to do the same.

And, yes, Jade was Lily's nickname, although I can't think where you might've heard that recently.

All of you - be careful. Don't do anything I'd do.

Stay strong; be safe

Love

Sirius

Hermione was frowning. "Do you ever get the feeling that something bad's going to happen?"

"Yep," Bethany said, rolling both letters back up. "You too?"

Hermione nodded. "The sooner this Tournament's over, the better."


October 1994

That evening, the Hogwarts students gathered in the Entrance Hall in their cloaks to be directed with, year-by-year, to wait on the front steps of the castle.

McGonagall paced along the line, snapping at one or two Gryffindors to straighten their hats or fix their year.

Beside her, Bethany tried to smooth down the wayward curls that had escaped her braid.

The movement caught McGonagall's eye and her lips twitched in a smile. "Don't worry yourself, Miss Potter; you have done perfectly well given the circumstances."

"What circumstances?" Bethany asked.

"Your father's hair," McGonagall said, obviously trying not to smile more than she already was. "At least you're not deliberately messing it up."

She moved off down the line, and Hermione squeezed Bethany's hand.

Bethany knew so little about her parents that every little piece of information like that was soaked in like a sponge.

"Nearly six," Ron muttered, staring at the front gates. "How'd you reckon they're coming? The train?"

"I doubt it," Hermione said, remembering what Arthur had said at the World Cup, about wixen not being able to resist showing off.

"How then?" Bethany asked, looking up at the sky. "Broomsticks?"

"I don't think so," Hermione said. "Not from that far away."

"A portkey?" Ron suggested. "Or they could apparate; maybe you're allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they come from."

"You can't apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds!" Hermione snapped, feeling a bit like a parrot. "How many times do I have to tell you?"

For the next fie minutes, they stood in eager anticipation.

"Beth," Hermione murmured, "I've been wondering. Why did the seventh years look particularly upset about Quidditch?"

"I didn't notice," Bethany said. "But it makes sense. Scouts come to the Final."

"Scouts?" Hermione repeated.

"League scouts," Ron clarified. "For professional teams. They can't offer try-outs to anyone lower than seventh year, or Beth would've had twenty offers last June."

Bethany rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous please."

"So what about the seventh years that want to go pro then?" Hermione asked. "Do they not get a shot?"

"They can still try-out," Ron said. "But it's harder to get a try-out without an invitation."

Hermione frowned. That hardly seemed fair, considering the Triwizard Tournament would only have three competitors.

Surely there was some way to have kept Quidditch going, even if it was just friendly matches.

Then again, very few matches at Hogwarts had ever been friendly.

Hermione shifted on the spot, trying to get some feeling back into her feet.

"Aha!" Dumbledore called out suddenly. "Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

A frisson of excitement rippled through the students, everyone trying to figure out what the Headmaster had seen.

"There!" Someone shouted.

And there it was, something huge hurtling towards them over the Forbidden Forest.

"Well, it's not a broomstick," Hermione said dryly.

"It's a dragon!" One of the first years shrieked.

"Don't be stupid!" One of her class-mates scoffed. "It's a flying house!"

As it turned out, his guess wasn't far off - it was a gigantic powder-blue carriage drawn by twelve winged palomino horses, each about the size of an elephant, and it landed in front of them with a crash that made several students jump.

A footman leapt out to assemble golden steps and jumped back smartly to allow the exit of a beautifully graceful woman, who had to be as large as Hagrid.

As Dumbledore led the students in a round of applause, she smiled graciously, extending a bejewelled hand to Dumbledore, who barely had to incline his head to kiss it.

"My dear Madame Maxime," he greeted. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dorr," she returned. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"On excellent form, I thank you."

"My pupils." Madame Maxime waved a careless hand behind her, and Hermione's attention was drawn to a dozen boys and girls huddling behind her, staring up at the castle apprehensively and shivering.

That was unsurprising - it was the end of October in Scotland, and they seemed to be wearing robes made of very fine silk, none of them wearing cloaks (although a few of them had wrapped scares around their heads).

She wondered why they hadn't brought anything warmer - and then she realised that all she knew about Beauxbatons was that it was in France. If all they knew was that Hogwarts was in Britain, it could have been anywhere in the climate for all they knew.

Then again, even on the South Coast, she wouldn't have wanted to be outside dressed only like that.

Hermione was so focused on the students and the amazing size of their headmistress that she was startled when the Hogwarts students suddenly parted to allow Madame Maxime and her students to enter the castle.

"How big d'you reckon Durmstrang's horses are going to be?" Seamus asked over Lavender's head.

"Well, if they're any bigger than this lot, even Hagrid won't be able to handle them," Bethany answered. "That's if he hasn't been attached by the Skrewts. Wonder why he's not here."

"Maybe they've escaped," Ron suggested, sounding hopeful.

"Oh don't say that!" Hermione pleaded with a shiver. "Imagine that lot loose on the grounds."

For a few minutes, they stood in silence, many people gazing at the sky.

"Can you hear something?" Ron asked presently.

Hermione could. It sounded like a vacuum cleaner, but that couldn't be right - there was nothing like that in the magical world as far as she knew, and anyway, it sounded like it was coming from …

"The lake!" Lee Jordan shouted from somewhere behind them.

Hermione watched in fascination with the rest of the school, as a whirlpool appeared in the middle of the lake and a ship slowly rose from its midst.

As it reached the bank, there was the splash of an anchor and the thud of a gangplank.

The students that disembarked appeared to all be built by Crabbe and Goyle but as they stroke up the lawns towards them and the lights of the castle began to illuminate them, it became clear that the bulk was due to great shaggy cloaks.

The man at their head was tall and thin, like Dumbledore, but had a curled goatee, rather than a long beard, that didn't quite hide his weak chin, and certainly didn't have the same gravitas.

As he approached the castle, Hermione felt the wards shiver and the pain in her head exploded again.

"Hermione!" Bethany whispered, grabbing her arm as she staggered sideways. "What's wrong?"

"Castle …" Hermione muttered. "She doesn't like him very much."

Bethany squinted at the man through the gloom. "Can't you just … promise to keep an eye on him or something?"

Hermione closed her eyes, gripping Bethany's hand to keep from crying out with pain. An arm looped around her waist and she leaned back, breathing in a scent that was uniquely Fred - who should have been two rows behind her, being a sixth year, but of course he'd found some way of moving without McGonagall seeing him.

Hogwarts? I know you don't like the Durmstrang Headmaster, but I can't really do much about it right now. I promise I'll keep an eye out and I'll report anything I find to Professor Dumbledore.

The castle wards flared again in irritation, and Hermione barely bit back a whimper, feeling the arm around her waist tighten a little.

Professor McGonagall?

Apparently, Hogwarts was satisfied by this and settled down. Hermione rubbed her head as the pain receded, her whole body relaxing from the rigidity she hadn't even realised had formed.

"Mya? Are you alright?"

Fred sounded so worried that she almost told him the truth, but there were just too many people around.

"Migraine."

"Do you need the infirmary again, Miss Granger?"

Hermione jumped, having not even realised that Professor McGonagall was in front of them.

At some point during her discussion with the castle, the Durmstrang students had been taken inside as well, and the Hogwarts students had begun to follow them.

"I don't think so, Professor," Hermione said. "Madam Pomfrey gave me some exercises to help last time, and it seems to have helped."

"And is Madam Pomfrey aware of what's causing the migraines?" McGonagall asked.

Hermione nodded. "Yes ma'am."

McGonagall relaxed a little. "Very well, then. If you're sure …"

"I am," Hermione said. "If it hasn't gone by the end of the feast, I'll go and ask her for a pain reliever."

McGonagall seemed satisfied by this, and ushered them inside the castle.

Ron, unlike Bethany and Fred, was gaping towards the Great Hall in what seemed like stunned awe.

"What did I miss?" Hermione asked.

"Krum!" Ron told her excitedly. "Viktor Krum!"

It was the same name, Hermione realised, that was being whispered all over the crowd of students.

"He's one of the Durmstrang students," Bethany said.

Hermione frowned. "How is that … I knew he was eighteen but if he's not even left school, how is he playing Quidditch nationally? Didn't you say …?"

"In the UK, yes," Bethany said. "They can't recruit belong seventh year. I guess it must be different in Bulgaria. But he must have been so young when he started."

"Yeah, most national teams won't take a chance on a green player," Fred agreed. "School Quidditch and Pro-Quidditch are two completely different things. He must have been playing pro for at least a year before this World Cup. Are you sure you're okay, Mya?"

"Yeah," Hermione said, almost honestly. "I'm fine. Or I will be by tomorrow morning."


October 1994

By Halloween morning, Hermione's headache had all but disappeared, but she was certainly far from fine.

The 'impartial judge' was the Goblet of Fire - yes, a very powerful magical object, but all Hermione cared about was that it was technically a cup.

On top of that, Hermione had seen her first 'living spirit', proving the theory in the book. During the feast, she started seeing a red-haired woman out of the corner of her eye - she definitely wasn't a student of any of the schools, and she certainly wasn't a ghost, because ghosts had no colour to them.

She could have been a poltergeist - but no one else seemed to pay the least bit of attention to her.

The woman had yet to speak to Hermione, and she was waiting for the spirit to make the first move - she wasn't entirely sure of the etiquette in this situation.

Hermione and Bethany made their way downstairs together, practically stumbling into the Entrance Hall and running straight into Ginny.

"Sorry," Hermione muttered, wiping sleep from her eyes. "Morning."

"You two didn't sleep much either, huh?'

Bethany shook her head. "Nope."

Ginny yawned. "I was this close to nicking your Cloak and sleeping down here to keep an eye on it."

"Work smarter," Hermione told her. "I kept an eye on the Marauders' Map all night. Only Mr. Crouch came anywhere near it, and he's one of the judges, so we're safe."

"Anyone put their name in yet?" Ron asked from behind them.

"All the Durmstrang lot," a third year told him. "Haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet."

"I'd have done it last night after everyone had gone to bed," Bethany admitted. "Less nerve-racking that way."

As Hermione woke up properly, she finally registered the grief humming away below the excitement in the air.

She mentally kicked herself for not remembering.

This Halloween wasn't just the day of selection for the Triwizard Tournament; it was also the thirteenth anniversary of the death of Bethany's parents.

Hermione sighed, watching Bethany fake a smile as the twins appeared, beaming identically.

"Done it!" Fred announced in a triumphant whisper.

"Done what?" Ron asked.

"The Ageing Potion, dung-brains," George said, rolling his eye. "One drop each. We only need a to be a couple of months older."

"We're going to split the money equally if one of us wins," Lee added.

"It's not going to work," Hermione sang.

"Want to put a wager on that?" Fred asked. "If you're right, I'll make sure you're exempt from any pranks for a month."

"And if I'm wrong?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.

Fred didn't answer immediately, but there was a kind of heat in his eyes when he looked at her and a kind of tension that rose in the air between them. "I'll think of something."

Hermione swallowed, her mouth suddenly very, very dry. "Alright, you're on."

The three sixth years approached the Age Line around the Goblet of Fire and the twins stepped across.

For a second, it looked like it had worked, and then the two of them were suddenly catapulted backwards with long white beards.

"I did warn you," Professor Dumbledore said, over the laughter. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey, who is already tending several students who seemed to think an Ageing Potion would fool the Line. Though, I must say, none of them sprouted beards quite as fine as yours."

Fred and George set off sheepishly towards the Hospital Wing, accompanied by Lee, who was laughing hysterically.

"Lucky break, Mione," Ron said. "Don't ever make bets with the twins."

"Exempt for a month though," Hermione said, pretending she wasn't just a little bit disappointed that she'd lost.

In the Great Hall, hundreds of live bats were fluttering around the glowing pumpkins.

The Durmstrang students were already there, seated at the Slytherin table, and looked about as surly as the Slytherins did.

Hermione had noticed this pattern through her first few years, that some people seemed to hate Halloween.

During her conversations with Sirius, she had learned that the wixen world traditionally celebrated Samhain, not Halloween, which was a Muggle holiday.

Hermione supposed if she wasn't allowed to celebrate her traditional holidays and was instead forced to partake in some kind of mockery of them, she would be a bit irritated too.

What she hadn't been able to figure out was why they didn't celebrate Samhain at Hogwarts.

Seamus and Dean were already at the Gryffindor table, sausage and beans piled high on their places.

"Rumour's going round that Warrington got up early and put his name in," Dean was saying as they joined him. "You know, that big bloke from Slytherin who looks like a sloth."

"We can't have a Slytherin champion!" Bethany protested, not quite sounding like she was joking.

Before Hermione could agree, a voice beside her muttered, "Typical." There was a flash of red in her peripheral vision; she turned, but there was only an empty space.

Whoever the spirit was, she was hanging around a lot.

Maybe Hermione should speak to her next time - if she could figure out how to do that without looking like a raving lunatic, of course.

"And all the Hufflepuffs are talking about Diggory," Seamus scowled. "But I wouldn't have thought he'd have wanted to risk his good looks."

"There's nothing wrong with him," Bethany snapped.

"Yeah, he hexed a Slytherin last year when he called me a Mudblood," Hermione added. She had been quite flattered by that, considering that Cedric was a prefect, and technically should have handled things the proper way.

"Listen," Seamus said suddenly.

Cheering was floating in from the Entrance Hall and, moments later, Angelina Johnson walked in, blushing a little under her dark skin. "I've done it," she announced, taking a seat beside Hermione. "I've put my name in."

Ron looked impressed. "You're kidding?!"

"You seventeen then?" Seamus asked.

Ron rolled her eyes. "Course she is; can't see a beard, can you?"

"I had my birthday last week," Angelina said.

"Well, I really hope you get it," Hermione told her.

"Thanks Hermione."

"Better you than Pretty Boy Diggory," Ron muttered, causing a coupe of passing Hufflepuffs to scowl at him.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and was about to berate Ron once more, when she realised that Bethany hadn't risen to Cedric's defence again. She seemed to have zoned out, pushing her scrambled eggs around with her fork.

Hermione hesitated, and then pulled a couple of pieces of bread towards her, quickly assembling two sandwiches and wrapping them in a napkin. "Beth. Want to go for a walk?"

Bethany dropped her fork instantly. "Yes please."

The two made their way out of the Great Hall, pausing only to let the Beauxbatons students pass them. They were dressed more appropriately this morning, and Hermione wondered distantly if they had been wearing some kind of official uniform the night before, the way the Hogwarts students had to wear their hats, despite never wearing them any other day.

They rounded the lake in comfortable silence, eating their sandwiches, and, once they were on the opposite side, their view of the castle blocked by the Durmstrang ship, Bethany stopped, dropping to sit on the floor under a beech tree.

Hermione followed suit, wiping her fingers on the napkin and tucking it inside her robes. "How are you?"

Bethany shrugged, but said nothing.

Stifling a sigh, Hermione shifted so she was leaning against the tree trunk, and held her arms out. "Come here."

Normally, Bethany tended to avoid hugs, but today she welcomed it, wrapping her own arms around Hermione's waist and burying her face in her shoulder.

Hermione rubbed her back comfortingly, pretending that she couldn't feel her best friend shaking. When Bethany pulled away, her eyes were bright and red-rimmed, but Hermione made no comment on it.

"Bad day?"

Bethany chuckled weakly, rubbing her face with her hand. "It's different this year. Halloween, I mean. I always knew that's when they … died. At least, I did once Hagrid told me. It just seems … worse this year."

Hermione bit back a scathing remark about Bethany's aunt. "Maybe you've got more of a connection this year. You've got people who knew them personally. They're more like … people."

"Maybe," Bethany said softly.

Hedwig fluttered down beside them with a letter tired to her leg, hopping on to Bethany's lap and rubbing her cheek against her owner's.

"You're late," Bethany murmured, taking the letter from her. Hedwig let out an indignant squawk and flapped to Hermione's shoulder.

"I don't think she likes what you're insinuating," Hermione said with a small smile. "Isn't that Arabella's handwriting? Hedwig's a smart girl; maybe she knew you shouldn't get a letter like that in public."

"A letter like what?" Bethany asked, opening the letter. "Never mind."

Hermione stroked Hedwig's feathers, gazing out across the lake, while Bethany finished the letter and wiped her eyes again.

"Alright?"

"It's so weird," Bethany whispered with a sigh, not addressing the contents of the letter. "I don't remember them, outside the Dementors, but I miss them so much it hurts sometimes."

Hermione grimaced. "Beth, I … I don't know what to say."

"It's difficult, things like this," a soft female voice said from beside her.

Hermione jumped, but Bethany made no sin that she'd even heard the voice, let alone been surprised by it.

She glanced around to see the redhead she'd seen earlier sitting on her other side, watching the Durmstrang students returning to their ship.

"Ginny?"

"Ginny?" Bethany repeated, glancing over her head at what - to her, at least - appeared to be empty grass. "Hermione, there's nobody there."

"No, her spirit," Hermione said, distracted. "Remember, I told you how I could see them?"

"Actually, Hermione," the spirit interrupted. "Bethany's right. I'm not Ginny."

Hermione winced. "Sorry, I just …" She froze.

The woman had turned to look at her, and it was now obvious that of course she wasn't Ginny - she was much older, for a start, and her hair was a slightly darker shade of red.

But the most glaring difference was in her eyes, and it was these that had caused Hermione to freeze up.

"No …" she whispered. "No, that's impossible."

"Mione?" Bethany asked, sounding worried. "Mione, what's wrong?"

Hermione heard the query, but it didn't quite register in her mind. "Would you excuse me for one second?" She asked, her voice sounding strange to her ears. "Empath thing."

Without waiting for a reply, Hermione jumped to her feet and jogged down the shore, leaving Bethany utterly confused.

Once they were out of earshot, she turned to face the woman, who had followed and was still smiling kindly at her.

"You can't be Lily Potter."