The Court were gathered under the full moon in a vaguely familiar forest clearing, before a roughly-hewn stone arch. I slid off Taran's pony (I never did get around to learning how to ride) and stood before Lord Gwyn's steed.

"Harry Potter, son of James, son of Lily," he began, voice stern under his antlered helmet. "The Great Wheel has turned twice since you came to us. Your tynged remains. Are you prepared to accept your fate?"

I swallowed twice and took a deep breath. "Yes, my lord. My actions are my own."

"Then you must pass through the Arch, and face your destiny!" Lord Gwyn commanded. "As we are merciful, you may have a few moments to say your farewells."

I sketched a proper bow. "Thank you, my lord."

I turned to see my parents walk up behind me. I'd rather not dwell too much on what words were exchanged, or how many tears were shed. In the end, I felt like I was losing them twice.

"Mum… Dad…" I said at last, eyes shining. "I'm glad I had the chance to meet you... Watch me in the pool when you can, 'kay?"

Dad nodded, clapping me on the shoulder. Mum kissed me on the forehead and whispered in my ear. "Remember, Harry… the King is well aware of the passage of time."

I heard Myrddin's unmistakable grunt and lifted my head to face him.

"Fare you well, sir," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I thank you for your tutelage. I am sorry that I failed you."

He snorted. "I'm no longer your teacher, Harry. And you haven't failed me yet. Now get going or I'll thump you again."

I nodded, turning to the stone arch, which had filled with mist. Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward.

Just as I stepped through, I thought I heard a breathless voice shout, "Wait! Harry! My daughter's name is Loo-"

The mists took me before I could stop. I felt a sudden disorientation, as if my balance had shifted, and fell forward, landing on my hands and feet on a stone floor. I looked at my hands… were they smaller?

"Hello again, Harry. That was quick!" said Luna.

I was back in the 7th-floor corridor. And from the looks of it, I hadn't been gone long. Indeed, I was in my school uniform and could feel my wand in its usual place in my back pocket.

Was it a dream? Some sort of illusion? There was one way to be certain.

I focused my will, and called up Enaid Du, for just an instant. When I felt its familiar touch I knew that no matter what… it had been real.

"So that's what Mum meant! But why didn't anyone bloody well tell me?"

"The Hen Arglwydd is like that," Luna replied. "He only tells us what we need to know, and rarely what we want to know. When he asked me to meet you, he never said why."

I swore under my breath as I tidied my robes. Then something occurred to me: I still had two years to nab Voldemort! I lifted my head and laughed, sweeping my hair out of my eyes.

"Harry?" Luna replied, worriedly. "You are you, right? Because your scar is missing."

"Oh yeah," I replied, dismissively. "I got rid of that. Bloody hurt, too."

I walked over to the strange tapestry, noting that the passage was still open.

"Neat! Let's go, Luna!"

She followed me down. As we stepped out beside the Grand Staircase, she put a hand on my arm.

"People are going to notice if you aren't the same," she replied seriously. "After all…"

Her entire demeanour changed, and she took on a dreamy expression, "They all have wrackspurts in their ears, and don't like surprises."

She winked, and I grinned back.

"Fair point. Let's see…"

I stopped to look at my reflection, spinning a small glamour to recreate the scar. After a moment of thought, I also made myself look a bit paler than usual.

"Care to watch the show?" I asked, smirking.

"Oh, I think not," Luna replied. "I'm supposed to be all sad because the Nargles took my shoes."

She wiggled her toes. "The House Elves always return them by morning. For Ravenclaws, they really aren't that bright. Have fun, Harry Potter!"

She skipped up the corridor to Ravenclaw Tower as I schooled my features into a look of pure misery, and stepped back into the Great Hall, where everyone was shouting at each other.

"There he is!" Draco shouted. Good old Draco.

Dumbledore raised his wand, which made a boom like a cannon.

"QUIET!" he roared, before returning to his usual grandfatherly expression. He beckoned me to stand before him.

"Harry, my boy," he said kindly. "Where did you go?"

I made myself blush. Glamours are so useful. "I had to go to the bathroom. I, uh… threw up."

A sizeable proportion of the Hall laughed. Just as planned.

Dumbledore looked into my eyes, and I felt a slight tickle.

I'm your only friend, I thought. I'm not your only friend…

Dumbledore blinked as the words of the Two Johns filled my mind. It was all I could do to stop from humming along.

"Ah yes. Understandable," the Headmaster replied distractedly. "Please join the other champions while we work this out."

I stepped past him to the door, feeling some kind of enchantment try to take hold.

"Of course, Headmaster. I will do what I am bound to do."

There was a rush of magic, and I felt the enchantment snap. Fae oaths took precedence. Good to know.

As I stepped through the door, I heard Dumbledore mumble "countless screaming Argonauts?" and grinned. It was with a light heart that I joined the other Champions.

I walked into a room lit by a decent-sized fireplace, with a myriad of portraits lining the walls. They whispered as I entered like a pack of gossiping hens. The other champions were gathered around the hearth, which dramatically backlit their forms.

The French girl, Fleur, looked up at my entrance.

"What is it?" she said. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"

I snorted internally. Now the language lessons Rhoddion had insisted I take made sense. Before I could answer, I heard a shuffling from behind, and Ludo Bagman walked in. He grabbed my shoulder, probably to lead me further into the room, so I 'accidentally' jabbed him in the stomach.

At least that's the explanation I was prepared to give since my elbow contacted him about six inches lower than that. An accident, of course. Really.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Bagman!" I cried in my most innocent tone. "It was a reflex!"

Bagman held up a hand as he slowly straightened. "No worry, my boy!" he wheezed.

"What's going on?" Cedric asked.

"Gentlemen . . . lady," he replied. "May I introduce — incredible though it may seem — the fourth Triwizard champion!"

The boys reacted with a mixture of confusion & annoyance. Fleur simply threw back her hair in what must have been a practised move and smiled.

"Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."

"Joke? No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"

Fleur frowned. "But evidently zair 'as been a mistake! 'E cannot compete. 'E is too young!"

I looked over at her.

"Comme c'est impoli!" I replied in fluent (if somewhat archaic) French. "Dites-moi, mademoiselle... depuis combien de temps pratiquez-vous cet accent ridicule ? Parce que contrairement à ces cretins, je n'y crois pas."

Her eyes widened as she realised what I'd said. I merely grinned at her. She sat down in a chair on the other side of the room, pointedly facing away from me. Krum snorted.

"И аз не вярвам на постъпката ти, Виктор," I replied. He stared at me, before breaking into a surprisingly boyish smile.

"Vell played," he replied. "Perhaps you are good competition, after all."

Cedric leaned over and whispered, "What did you say to them? And since when could you speak other languages?"

"Long story," I murmured back. "And you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Before he could reply, the door opened again and a whole crowd entered. The three Head Teachers, Mr. Crouch from the Ministry, and both Professors McGonnagal & Snape. I guess she was here as my head of house, and Snape because he's an annoying git.

As Dumbledore passed by, I could just hear him humming a few bars from "Birdhouse". Served him right.

"Madame Maxime!" Fleur shouted, running over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"

"Still not buying it!" I said cheerfully. She glared back.

The teachers immediately started arguing, so I walked over to the other boys and pulled out a deck of playing cards. "Anyone for Exploding Snap?"

After 7 rounds, Cedric was ahead by one, but I was hoping to pull even when I heard the plummy tones of Professor Dumbledore call my name.

"Ah, Harry my boy?"

I flinched, and Viktor took advantage, slapping his hand down and shouting "Щрак!"

"Damio!" I swore, looking up. "Yes, Headmaster?"

"Please come here," he replied, eyes twinkling. I noticed that Professor Moody had joined them, and was glowering at Snape and Headmaster Karkaroff with an odd expression.

I walked over, as Dumbledore continued. "Did you put your name in the Goblet?"

"No, sir," I replied, shaking my head.

"He's lying of course," Snape remarked from his chosen lurking spot. McGonnagal was about to react when I turned to face him.

"Why Professor Snape! I didn't see you there! How wonderful that you are here!"

His eyes widened a fraction as I approached. "What are you on about, Potter? Some sort of childish prank?"

I shook my head and added a fixed grin to my face. "Not at all. After all, everyone knows of your dedication to all the students! You are famed across the world for your teaching!"

I could hear Cedric snorting from behind me, but I didn't react. Instead, I stared fixedly at my target. Our eyes met. Contact.

"From Istanbul... to Constantinople!" I thought at him. His head snapped back, and he turned away.

"Ah, of course," Dumbledore replied. "5 points to Gryffindor!"

McGonnagal looked at him like he was mad. Which, to be fair, was quite likely.

I glanced up at him. "Was there anything else, Headmaster?"

"I'm afraid so, my boy," he replied. "You have to compete. Barty here will explain the first task to you."

The somewhat cadaverous Mr. Crouch told us Champions about as much as I expected, which was practically nothing at all. Only that it was a test of courage, we had a bit over 3 weeks to prepare, and we couldn't ask any of our schoolteachers for help.

If I was at all interested in winning this farce, I'd probably be worried. As it is, we were sent back to our dorms to "celebrate", which was frankly the last thing on my mind.

Unfortunately, my fellow Lions didn't get the memo.

I stepped back as the sheer volume of the noise coming from the common room hit me like a physical blow, narrowly escaping the grasping hands trying to pull me inside. As usual, my housemates had decided my fate for me… but I wasn't the same passive idiot I'd been before my training.

A quick glamour (aided by the considerable amount of butterbeer they'd imbibed), and they'd forgotten I was ever there. While they argued amongst themselves over who had accidentally opened the door, I headed down the corridor, debating how best to spend the evening.

A slender figure stepped out of a small alcove. "Hello again, Harry."

I stopped and turned. "Oh, hello Luna. Waiting for me again?"

"More or less," she grinned, matching my pace. "I deduced that you were unlikely to enjoy an unexpected party, so I came here to see if I was right. And I was!"

"How Holmesian of you," I teased.

"Elementary, my dear Potter, she retorted. "I am a 'claw, after all."

"And what is the opinion of the Eagles regarding the Tournament?"

Luna shrugged, "Wait and see which way the wind blows. They aren't sure whether to support you or Cedric at the moment."

"Figures," I sighed. "At least I know the Slytherins all hate me."

"I wouldn't be so sure, actually," she replied.

"Oh?"

"I saw Blaise Zabini putting 3 Galleons on you to win with the Weasley twins."

Huh. We wended our way back to the seventh-floor corridor. "I don't think Lord Gwyn would be happy to see me back so soon, Luna."

She laughed musically. "Probably not. That's not why I brought you here."

She touched the wall, "Can you help us, please?"

There was a subtle ripple, and a simple wooden door appeared.

"Thank you!" she replied, opening the door. Within was a simple bed-chamber, not unlike the one I'd used in Annwn: Bedstead, nightstand, wardrobe. Functional, but not particularly fancy.

I looked at the bed and at Luna. "Uh, Luna… I don't think we can share the bed…"

"Not yet, anyway," she replied, giving me a quick peck on the cheek. "Sleep well, Harry!"

She skipped down the corridor, giggling. Eventually, I regained my composure and went to bed.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

tynged - fate or destiny. Similar to a geas.

Hen Arglwydd - Old Lord

Comme c'est impoli! - How rude!

Dites-moi, mademoiselle... depuis combien de temps pratiquez-vous cet accent ridicule? Parce que contrairement à ces cretins, je n'y crois pas. - Tell me, miss... how long have you been practicing that ridiculous accent? Because unlike these morons, I'm not buying it.

И аз не вярвам на постъпката ти, Виктор - I don't believe what you're doing either, Victor