Chapter 20) The Burnt Parchment

Selected Listening: The Goblet of Fire- Patrick Doyle

Once Anastasia and Draco had been healed and the evidence of the lifeline had been hidden, they trudged down to the courtyard where everyone was standing in rows by houses waiting for the arrival of the other schools. The students and staff faced the horizon.

The heads of houses spotted two latecomers. Snape made eye contact with Draco and tilted his head to the end of the Slytherin line. Minerva rushed forward and paused in front of Anastasia. Word had already gotten out. Minerva's eyes scanned over the girl searching for the injury, but finding none, and being unable to embrace her in front of the entire school, she took her around the shoulders and ushered her to the end of Gryffindor's line where Hermione stood, ogling.

"You're alright!" she gaped in a whisper.

"I'm fine," Anastasia answered back.

"Actually, Minerva," Albus strode forward and opened his arm in gesture for Anastasia to follow, "I'd like my daughter to accompany me in greeting our guests."

Anastasia assessed Albus's expression, nothing in his face revealed any additional concern than usual for her. Either he didn't know, or simply found Moody's behavior to be unproblematic.

She nodded to him. Minerva stepped back and Anastasia stepped under his arm as he walked her forward to stand at the front of the group with him.

"I'm hearing there was much excitement in defense against the dark arts today," Albus said quietly.

Anastasia glanced at him sideways.

"Yes, Moody almost killed us—"

"Moody went to unnecessary extremes with that lesson…but I am glad he has forced you to face the reality of your condition…at the same time, I'm surprised you let your condition be a liability instead of leveraging it as a strength."

Anastasia heard the glint in his voice, a familiar tone that meant he wasn't going to give her the whole answer. How could the lifeline be leveraged as a strength? All it ever did was make them worse off than they already were. She certainly didn't know how it could be used with the imperious curse.

She couldn't ask more anyway, because as she opened her mouth to do so a shadow appeared above the tree line, boxy and bouncing towards them, a carriage pulled by a fleet of horses.

Beauxbatons landed, displacing the neat rows of students into a mottled clump. They disembarked, shivering in the cold autumn air. Anastasia noticed several of the students greet Blaise immediately. He waved smugly at the gushing girls and preppy boys as Draco rolled his eyes.

The giantess of a headmistress walked towards them, raised her hand and allowed Albus to kiss it in greeting.

"Dumbly-dor, et haz been a long time—"

"Ah, Madame Maxime, as elegant as always."

"Oh, and zis must be ze girl—" she beamed in curiosity at Anastasia. Anastasia had to crane her neck to look Madame Maxime in the eye, her eyes panned down the woman's intricate robe, and found on her right side, an older girl with silvery blonde hair quietly assessing her as her teeth chattered.

Anastasia smiled at the girl, but her serious expression did not change.

"My daughter, yes," Albus answered.

"She was almost one of ours," the headmistress began, "her grandparents wanted to enroll her last year—"

Albus nodded humbly.

"Yes, I'm thankful our little trial in May cleared up that I am her sole legal guardian. Though I've no doubt she would have performed well under your tutelage, Anastasia has connections at Hogwarts she would not consider leaving."

"Ah, zere is no place like home, is zere not?" Madame Maxime asked her with a kind smile.

"No, Madame," Anastasia curtseyed, and after the headmistress specified her horse's care instructions, the French students moved inside to warm up.

Mere moments later, the school stood around again, back in their lines, tapping their feet. Hagrid stumbled in from rangling the skrewts and immediately went to tend to the horses. Albus looked at his pocketwatch, and then out at the Black Lake.

"Ah, there."

A dark shadow appeared under the surface, too symmetrical to be the giant squid. Tall masts emerged first, like trees growing from the bottom of the lake, then sails, then an entire Norwegian style Viking ship. Water spilled out from the deck back into the pool, forcing waves onto the shore.

The Hogwarts students gasped in awe at the spectacle, as the Durmstrang students descended the gangplank in heavy fur coats and approached them. Their severe headmaster stalked forward with none other than Viktor Krum at his side.

Anastasia gawked as whispers of the quidditch player's name dispersed through the crowd.

"Albus!" The intimidating man clapped him on the shoulder and shook his hand at the same time. "Hogwarts! So good to be here, and to see you, old friend."

"Likewise, Professor Karkaroff."

"Would you mind if we get inside quickly?" he asked, "Viktor has a head cold and I want to make sure he's ship shape for the champion selection."

"Of course, Igor, right away," Albus gestured grandly.

Karkaroff almost walked off but paused and stared.

"Are you entering your daughter as your champion?" he asked. Krum looked at his teacher alarmedly.

Anastasia shook her head, blushing.

"I'm fourteen," she said graciously. Viktor stared at her with cautious eyes.

"Ah, good thing, or else that would most certainly be cheating. Entering an ob—"

"An objectively fine quality young witch?" Albus interrupted. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Anastasia froze. As the Durmstrang crowd walked away, Anastasia whispered quickly to him.

"Do they still think I have an obscurus?"

Albus leaned closer to her ear.

"I have the utmost respect for Newt Scamander. Unfortunately, not all the wizarding world takes magizoology as seriously, or believe its study could help cure an ancient curse. But you've nothing to worry about. As the Durmstrang students get to know you, they'll see you are of no harm."

Anastasia took a deep breath and shook her head. She'd thought she'd escaped the shrewd looks and whispers she'd faced previously. She wondered if the Beauxbatons girl felt the same as Krum.

The students filed into the great hall behind their guests. Beauxbatons students posted up with Ravenclaw while Durmstrang students cozied in with Slytherin. Draco looked back at her and winked as he began to enrapt Viktor Krum in conversation. She rolled her eyes. Ten minutes before, she would have gladly spoken with Viktor over dinner. The quidditch star didn't need to say anything to demean her. His reaction to Karakoff's comment was enough. The students from France were freezing their tails off, complaining every which way they could about the temperature.

"Why didn't they just wear cloaks?" Hermione asked, insulted.

Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman joined as well, and they tucked in for an international themed dinner. After which, Filch rolled out a heavy stone vessel and sat it at the front of the room.

The Goblet of Fire was made of the same stone as its storage, rather lackluster and sandy in color. Of course, the flames coming out of the cup danced with a crimson glow that was mirrored on the stone surface. Around it, they watched as Albus drew an age line. The circle emanated a soft blue light on the floor.

Anastasia already heard the twins and Lee whispering.

"An age line? That's all?"

"It can be tricked with an aging potion."

"Easily!"

Anastasia sighed miserably.

"Who put a boogie in her bouillabaisse?" Lee whispered.

At the end of the welcome dinner, Professor Flitwick appeared behind her with Blaise at his side.

"Ah, Miss Dumbledore, could you help Zabini pass out warm blankets to the Beauxbatons students on their way back to the carriage? You two speak French."

A series of house elves brought up stacks of blankets to the entryway, and Blaise and Anastasia lined up to hand them to the Beauxbatons students. Unlike the Durmstrang students, the Beauxbatons students seemed perfectly happy to engage with her, but most the time they were chatting with Blaise, giggling and chuckling at anything he said.

"Bonne nuit, bonne nuit, bonne nuit," Anastasia said with each blanket as Blaise, who usually hung in the background, charmed his former classmates.

"Wow, they really like you," she commented. He nodded simply.

"Zabini fashions are even bigger in France then they are here. Most of the girls—and some of the guys—want to be models. The rest want free stuff," he admitted, "but they do make good friends."

Anastasia handed the last blanket out to a little girl who looked similar to the silver-haired one from earlier, and turned to go back to her house, expecting Blaise to do the same, but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Why'd you come out?" Blaise asked blatantly.

"What do you mean?"

"Of the hospital wing? You could have played it up. Gotten Moody into some real trouble!"

Anastasia had paused. She supposed Slytherins, known for being dramatic, were used to exaggerating their injuries for attention, but she couldn't if she tried. She was a more drop-and-roll-pretend-it-didn't-happen kind of girl.

"Pomfrey patched me up," she said. "Draco too. There was no point."

"You think any of us want to do those stupid imperio tasks?" Blaise asked. Anastasia winced. Moody had kept forcing Blaise to play chubby cruppy. Now he had sworn off anything with marshmallow in it. "If anyone could get it to stop, you could."

Anastasia looked nervously around the Great Hall. She watched as Draco, Pershore, and Knott ushered the Durmstrang students towards the dungeons for a tour of Slytherin common room.

"I already asked…grandad says it's good experience."

Blaise scoffed and folded his arms.

"When he looks at all of us…especially you and Malfoy…it reminds me of the way some of my ex-stepfathers looked at mum when they realized they could kill her for the money."

"How do you mean?"

"He's playing with his food."


The next day, nearly every student got up early to eat breakfast and mill around the goblet. Anastasia had refused at first, since she needed to catch up on quite a lot of studying. She settled into the common room sofa by herself, books stacked around her in front of the fire. She cracked her arithmancy book open and began to read.

Moments later, three sets of footsteps thundered down the dorm steps followed by laughing and cheering. They stopped right behind her.

"Uh, hey Stasia—" George tried. Anastasia looked over her shoulder. Lee gave her a nervous smile while Fred avoided eye contact.

"Are you alright?" Lee asked. "We heard what happened in defense class yesterday."

Fred slipped and looked back at her concernedly. She glared and looked away.

"I'm fine. You three going to try to enter the tournament?" she asked, not wanting to keep them.

"We're going to succeed," George commented and waved the blue-gray potion in her face, "want to come and cheer us on?"

"Not particularly," she admitted, pushing it away.

"Suit yourself," Lee chimed and nearly skipped with George to the door.

"If we do get in…" Fred spoke suddenly, staying right where he was, "…if one of us is chosen, will you cheer us on?"

His eyes bore into hers asking a slightly different question. She had to look away for a moment. She didn't want to be mad at Fred. He was always worried for her, and she hated to see him so down.

"How about this? If one of you is chosen, I'll pray to Morgana you don't die," she gleamed in a playful tone, "and I'll never bet against you."

A light gleamed in his eye. All was forgiven.

"That's enough for me, princess," he said followed his crew out the porthole.

In the silence, Anastasia realized she was alone again. She sighed heavily and slammed her books down beside her.

"Guess I'll go see them make fools of themselves."

Anastasia arrived just in time to see Fred and George running with gray beards up the stairs to the infirmary, arguing all the way. Lee followed behind and shrugged.

"Glad I let them go first."

Anastasia found Harry, Hermione, and Ron exiting the Great Hall.

"Oh good!" Hermione chimed, carrying her rattling box of SPEW buttons. "We're just off to Hagrid's. You should join us!"

"In a minute," Anastasia said as Draco approached her, taking her shoulders and kissing her automatically, a move as easy as drinking water now.

"Good morning," he said mistily.

"You didn't enter, did you?" she asked.

"No…" Draco said. "After our little incident yesterday, I opted out. Some of the other's tried…but they're all in the infirmary with huge boils now."

"Good," Anastasia sighed, relieved, "I'm going to Hagrid's today."

The Durmstrang boys and a few of the Slytherin boys passed behind them. They whistled and teased. Even Crabbe and Goyle were chucking. She didn't miss Blaise glare at the lot of them before he walked off to catch up with his Beauxbatons classmates.

"What are they talking about?" she asked. Draco shook his head.

"It's nothing. They're being stupid. I'll see you later."


The four Gryffindors relaxed in Hagrid's cozy den, talking as they did chores around the cabin. Hermione tried to push her SPEW badges on Hagrid, and Anastasia was thankful to hear him politely decline.

"Anastasia, don't you think—" Hermione tried again.

"They're treated well, Hermione. Not like Winky with Mr. Crouch or Doby with the Malfoys. And they're needed for the school to run properly. I'm not about to fight grandad on the way the school's been functioning for over a thousand years."

Hermione finally scoffed and settled back down with her box of badges.

The conversation eventually turned to Professor Moody.

"That one's always been off his rocker," Hagrid griped. "Even in the first war, he was pushing everyone to their limit. Didn't have a kind word for anybody. The aurors will tell you he's a softy, but those are only the ones who survived his weed-out boot camp without quittin'."

"That sounds horrible," Ron said.

"Do you think it'll get any better?" Anastasia asked. "Now that he's done scaring us?"

"I'd bet on it getting worse before that," Hagrid sighed and went back to straightening his beard with some awful-smelling hair gel.

"How did you fight the imperious curse, Harry?" she asked. Harry shrugged nervously.

"I don't know…it's like a voice inside my head told me to stop…like there was a part of me that knew it was stupid."

Anastasia thought back…she had heard it too, a similar version of herself telling her to stop, wait, don't, but she couldn't listen to it. She had been in too much of a daze.

That evening, the names were called one by one until all three champions had been selected and applause rang out for everyone—especially Cedric.

But the flames behind Albus leapt up from the cup once again. Another slip of paper flew out and landed in his outstretched hand. He squinted at the page bewildered.

"Harry Potter," Albus whispered, and then louder, "Harry Potter!"

Harry stumbled forward, students staring in stunned silence, enraged silence. Anastasia couldn't help that her thoughts flashed to the year before, when she was the object of everyone's ire for bring an obscurus host, something she couldn't control. It was obvious that whatever was happening, Harry couldn't control it either.

The headmasters and Ministry officials fled behind Harry into the back room, and everyone else sat in shock, waiting for more instructions to be given, but the rest of the professors were too paralyzed to tell them to go to bed.

Red sparks flew from the goblet again. Students gasped or held their breath in anxiety. Would there truly be another champion? Was the goblet on the fritz? Did they really think it was in perfect magical condition after two hundred years in storage?

This time, it was as if the goblet had a hiccup, and out jumped a molecule of what could barely be considered parchment at all.

The faculty table, left without leaders, looked at each other to decide who would get it, but no one moved.

Someone would have to do something. Anastasia found her footing.

All eyes fell on her. She strode over to the crumple of parchment. She picked it up and unrolled it. The middle had been completely singed out, as if it were burnt from the center of the name. She realized she was holding it upside down, and then turned it and squinted.

There were only two letters visible. A capital A on the left, and a lowercase e on the right. In between, there had been space to write her full name. But that was ridiculous. She never put her name in the Goblet, as she assumed Harry hadn't. She stared out at her expectant schoolmates, trying to determine what to say.

She crumpled it up and went to throw it back on the floor to stamp it out, but a gnarled hand grabbed her arm.

"What does it say?" Moody growled at her. She broke away, twisting her arm to do so, but he grabbed the parchment from her, nonetheless. In the crowd, Draco winced.

"Ow—it's illegible! Nothing's written on it!" she said, although she knew that wasn't completely true.

Moody unrolled the paper himself and examined it. He raised one eyebrow at her with a disgusted glance.

"Suppose you're right…there was almost a fifth champion…but it's nothing." he shoved the paper back into her hands and stalked into the back room to join the headmasters.

Pomona Sprout, gaining her voice of leadership, stood.

"You may all go back to your houses for the evening while we sort this out. Dismissed!"

And the crowds began swarming out of the hall, taking little notice of her.

Anastasia found herself putting the parchment in her pocket.

She began walking towards the rest of her housemates, but Draco appeared on her right.

"What was that?" he asked. "Did the cup really spit out another name? Do you know who put in Potter's name?"

Anastasia looked to Draco with frightened eyes. If he knew it might have said her name, he would accuse her of purposefully putting it in and maybe Harry's too.

"Like Moody said, it was nothing, just a bit of rubbish."

"Alright…well the castle is going to be a mess tonight. Prefects aren't going to be able to count heads if they tried. Do you want to come with me?" he asked pleasantly.

"Come with you where?"

"To have some alone time," he winked.

"Oh," she blushed and smiled, "sure."

They tucked themselves away in the hidden stairwell leading up to her room of the headmaster's suite. Draco immediately grabbed her around the waist.

"I've missed you, princess. It's no fun being so far away. Your friends wanting your attention all day long."

She smirked.

He kissed her and Anastasia found Draco's hands traveling gently from her shoulders down to her hips…and then one of his hands was in her robe pocket.

"Hey!" she gasped, but he already grabbed the parchment she had hidden earlier. "That wasn't funny! Give it back!" she squeaked and tried to take it from him.

"Let's see here, lumos." A teasing smile lightened his tone, but as the light illuminated his face, his mischievous smile faded.

"Anastasia…I thought you said we shouldn't…"

"I didn't! There has to be someone else here with a name that starts with A and ends in E. It can't be mine," she said, but she couldn't convince herself of that.

"Plus, why did it come out if it burnt right through the middle?" he fretted, holding it by one end and looking through the hole.

"I don't know…but Moody said it was nothing…it's fine," she sulked. Draco stiffened with anger.

"It's not fine. That man is a creep! You need to show your father…what if you're under binding magical contract now and you don't even know it? Or someone else whose name starts with A and ands with E and takes exactly the amount of space as Anastasia Dumbledore," he critiqued.

"I didn't put my name in," she said directly. "I don't want to have anything to do with that competition. And my full name didn't even come out."

"That's beside the point. If the cup decided you're competing…or halfway competing…or whatever this means. You have to—"

Tears came to Anastasia's eyes. She didn't want anything special this year. She wanted to fade away into the background with everyone else. She wanted to be a regular Hogwarts student. Not an obscurial. Not a princess. Not an almost.

She voiced these things to Draco in unintelligible murmuring. He stroked her hair, kissing her in between her words. His familiar scent overtook her.

"I'll help you…whatever it is…but if you don't do something about it…we could both…"

He didn't finish his sentence.