November 1995

For a moment, when Hermione woke on Tuesday morning, she couldn't remember why she felt so sick.

Then Bethany sniffled in her sleep and the previous night's events came rushing back to her.

Bethany was dead to the world, her face still streaked with tears, and Hermione couldn't bring herself to wake her, especially not to expose her to the Great Hall.

Carefully disentangling herself from her best friend, Hermione slipped through the curtains.

Lavender and Parvati were already up, chatting quietly on the other side of the room.

"Is she okay?" Lavender asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Ron's being a prat."

Parvati scowled. "Yeah, we heard that last night. If it makes you feel better, most people seem to agree he's being a prat about it."

Hermione dressed quickly, tying her hair back in a quick ponytail. "If she wakes up, can you tell her I'll bring her some breakfast?"

"Yeah of course," Lavender said. "I've been meaning to ask about your hair."

"Didn't know I was supposed to be putting it up," Hermione said shortly. "And it takes too long to do anything else with it."

"We can help you if you like," Lavender offered.

Hermione faltered. "That … That would be great, Lavender, thank you, but …"

"Not now," Parvati finished.

Hermione nodded with a small smile. "Exactly. Excuse me."

The Common Room was empty and she thankfully encountered no one until she reached the Great Hall.

As soon as she entered the Hall, someone called her name, and she turned automatically to see Cedric leaving the Hufflepuff table and hurrying over to her.

"Is she okay?" He asked. "She seemed really shaken last night."

"She's still asleep," Hermione answered. "She's … not great, to be honest."

"She didn't do it," Cedric said firmly. "I've been telling everyone I see, and Professor Sprout has as well."

Hermione relaxed a little at that. "Thank you; I'll let her know. I'm just going to grab her some breakfast so she doesn't have to deal with …" she waved a hand at the Great Hall, which had fallen silent to watch the quiet conversation. "This."

Cedric frowned. "Yeah, good idea. What are the chances of her accepting help?"

Hermione had to laugh, despite her worries. "Slim to none. Don't even offer; she'll be insulted."

Cedric nodded. "That's fair. Let her know I meant what I said, yeah?"

"Of course." Hermione's eyes fell on red hair bent over his breakfast at the Gryffindor table. "I have an idiot to wrangle; excuse me."

Ron gave her a nasty look when she reached him and she raised an eyebrow.

"Who shoved a bug up your arse this morning?"

"Potter," he growled.

"Since when is she 'Potter'?" Hermione asked. "You don't still think she entered her name, do you? Last night, I could put it down to high emotions, but really? Still?"

"I knew you'd take her side," Ron said.

"Of course I'm taking her side," Hermione said. "She hasn't done anything wrong! You, of all people, know how much Bethany hates her fame! You know how much that fame cost her!"

"Fine!" Ron yelled. "Gang up on me; just like always!"

"Just like always?!" Hermione repeated incredulously. "It's usually you two ganging up on me - even when Beth knows I'm right. But go ahead! Turn your back on her and act like a jealous prat, instead of being her friend when she needs you!"

Fred and George were at their side in an instant, before she had even registered their arrival, the latter gripping Ron's right arm tightly. His hand was still tight around his wand … which was aimed in her direction.

"You were going to curse me," Hermione whispered, her voice slightly shaky. She took a hasty step backwards and Fred wrapped an arm around her, guiding her out to the Entrance Hall.

"You're okay, Mya," he murmured.

"He tried to curse me," she repeated in disbelief.

"We wouldn't let him," Fred said firmly, sitting her down on one of the benches beside the marble staircase. "You know we wouldn't. And he's a jealous idiot; you know that too."

Hermione nodded, resting her head against Fred's shoulder while she tried to calm her erratic heart beat.

A few minutes later, George joined them, holding a stack of buttered toast and some napkins. "He has been dealt with."

"Thanks," Fred said darkly, making Hermione wonder what conversation between the twins she had missed.

George handed Hermione the toast. "Go and find Beth. Take her for a walk or something. She doesn't need all that in there."

"That was the plan," Hermione said.

"Good," Fred said. "And tell her we're really sorry for not listening last night; the adrenaline got to us. If she says she didn't do it …"

"… that's good enough for us," George finished.

Hermione smiled at the twins, thanked them, and made her way back upstairs to Gryffindor Tower. She had barely opened her mouth to give the Fat Lady the password, when the portrait swung open to reveal her best friend, hair messier than ever and dark circles beneath her eyes.

"Fancy a walk?" Hermione asked, holding up the toast.

Relief lit up Bethany's face, and she nodded. "Yes please. I was hoping to catch you before you got all the way back up here."

"It's fine," Hermione said. "I'm used to the stairs by now."

They barely even glanced through the doors to the Great Hall as they passed, settling down under the beech tree like they had the day before.

Hermione handed half of the toast to Bethany and let her eat in silence, pulling her own apart in her lap. She wasn't really hungry, but forced herself to eat a few silence, knowing how Bethany could worry otherwise.

They had barely been there five minutes, when James and Lily appeared out of thin air, bickering.

"How was hexing Snape into the ground a good idea?" Lily was asking incredulously.

"Into the air, actually," James said. "And Snivellus had it coming, Lils; you know he did." He winced at the look she was giving him. "Still mad about that, huh?"

"Yes," Lily said, her tone icy. "Believe it or not, I am. Maybe if you'd been a bit nicer to him, he'd be a bit nicer to our daughter!"

"I would hope a grown man would refrain from tormenting a schoolgirl regardless," James said. "It's not Bethany's fault my head was so big you were surprised my broom could take off."

Lily sighed, shaking her head. "James Charlus Potter, you are unbelievable."

There was a smile lurking around the corner of her mouth, which didn't quite offset the worry in her eyes - in both their eyes.

"You're both unbelievable," Hermione said.

"My parents?" Bethany guessed through a mouthful of toast.

"Who else?" Hermione responded. She caught sight of Lily's expression. "And don't talk with your mouth full."

Bethany swallowed her toast and gave her an incredulous look. "Tell me that was my mother speaking."

Hermione shrugged. "More or less. Now about last night - we both know you didn't enter your name. Ginny knows you didn't enter your name. Cedric asked me this morning to tell you he meant what he said, so he knows too, and the twins asked me to apologise for not really listening last night. You say you didn't, that's good enough for them. The question is: who tampered with the Goblet?"

"Tampered with?" Bethany asked, but there was a glint in her eye that told Hermione she already knew what she meant.

"Like I told Lavender and Parvati last night," Hermione said, "the Goblet of Fire is bewitched to select one champion from each school. So whoever entered your name must have made it think that there were four schools competing instead of just three. But who?"

"Moody thinks someone's trying to off me," Bethany said casually, but she was methodically tearing the crusts off her toast as she spoke.

"Hermione," Lily said quietly, her voice trembling, "please tell Beth she needs to eat her crusts; they're good for her."

Hermione smiled sadly, reaching out to still Bethany's hands. "Eat your crusts, Beth; they're good for you. Certainly no student could have …"

"Have you talked to Ron this morning?" Bethany interrupted.

Hermione hesitated, unwilling to open this can of worms just yet. "Er .. yes. Yes, he was in the Great Hall."

"Does he still think I entered myself?" Bethany asked in a small voice.

Hermione sighed. "Well … I don't think so … not really."

Bethany looked up, finally meeting her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean? 'Not really'?"

Hermione sighed. "Look, if he just thought it through - properly - he'd know you didn't enter your name. He's just … blinded."

"Blinded?" Bethany repeated. "Blinded by what?"

"Oh, Beth, isn't it obvious?" Hermione asked, slightly exasperated. "It doesn't take an Empath to see that he's jealous."

"Jealous?!" James repeated incredulously, even as Lily nodded.

"Jealous?!" Bethany echoed, and Hermione had to bite back a smile at the similarity between father and daughter. "Jealous?! Of what?! He wants to make a prat of himself in front of the entire school, does he?"

"Look," Hermione said, trying to be patient, which wasn't easy, because James was loudly agreeing with Bethany, and she wasn't all that inclined to disagree herself. "It's always been you who gets the attention, you know that. I know it's not your fault!" She added hastily. "And I know you don't like it, or ask for it, but Ron's always shunted to one side when people see you, and he puts up with it and never mentions it. This is just one time too many."

"You get shunted to one side too," Bethany said.

"Yes, but I'm an only child," Hermione said gently. "Ron's got all those brothers, and they all have something that makes them stand out. And Ginny's the only girl. He's got them to compete against at home."

"Great," Bethany said bitterly. "Really great. Tell him from me I'll swap any time he wants. Tell him he's welcome to it - people gawping at my forehead everywhere I go …"

"I'm not telling him anything," Hermione said flatly. "I'm not a bloody owl. Tell him yourself; it's the only way to fix this."

"I'm not running around trying to make him grow up!"

"Neither am I!" Hermione snapped. "This has been coming for a while, Beth. Besides he nearly cursed me this morning."

Belatedly, as Lily let out a shocked gasp, she realised she shouldn't have said that.

Bethany was fairly even-tempered - most of the time, as long as certain lines weren't crossed.

When those lines were crossed, her temper was something to behold.

Hurting Bethany herself wasn't a line.

Hurting her friends, on the other hand, was another matter.

"He did what?" Bethany asked in a low whisper. Her eyes seemed to be glowing with fury, and Hermione almost flinched at the wave of anger that rolled towards her - only the knowledge that it wasn't aimed at her stopped her. "I swear …"

"Bethany, no!" Hermione grabbed her arm. "Come on, you know he never thinks before he acts - I can handle this myself! Besides the twins already dealt with it."

Bethany relaxed at that, the anger in the air receding as quickly as it had appeared. "Alright then, if they've dealt with it." She stared out at the lake for a few moments. "Maybe he'll believe I'm not enjoying myself when I've got my neck broken or …"

Lily moaned quietly and hid her face in James's chest.

Hermione didn't blame her. "That's not funny," she said quietly. "That's not funny at all." She looked at James and Lily, wishing she could sort out whatever was happening in her head so that they could comfort Bethany themselves, but there was always … "You know what you need to do, don't you? The moment we get up to the castle?"

"Yes," Bethany answered grimly. "Give Ron a good kick up the …"

"Write to Sirius!" Hermione interrupted hastily. "You've got to tell him what happened. He asked you to keep him posted on everything that happened at Hogwarts, remember? It's almost like he expected something like this to happen. I've got my bag with me; there's parchment and a quill in there."

"Hermione," Bethany said, "he came back into the country because I told him my scar hurt. If I tell him I've somehow been entered into the Triwizard Tournament, he's going to come bursting into the bloody castle!"

"Bethany Lily Potter, write to your godfather!" Lily chided sharply.

James winced. "I'd pass that message on as soon as possible, Hermione. When she uses the middle name, she means business."

"Write to your godfather," Hermione repeated. "Your mother agrees; she used your middle name and everything. Besides, he's going to find out anyway."

Bethan frowned. "How?"

Hermione groaned, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "Think, Bethany! It's the first Triwizard Tournament in over a century. You are the Girl-Who-Lived participating in mysterious circumstances. It's going to be all over the Wizarding World in days, if it's not already. You know he'd rather hear it from you."

Bethany sighed. "I hate it when you're right."

"I know," Hermione said sympathetically. "I can read you like a book without my Empathy, so you're stuck with me, I'm afraid." She handed Bethany some parchment and a book for her to lean on.

Bethany sighed, loading her quill. "Okay, fine."

Hermione leaned against the beech tree, gazing out across the lake while Bethany wrote the letter. As was her custom, Hedwig fluttered down just as Bethany rolled the letter up.

"Sorry girl," Bethany said. "I need to send this one with another owl."

Hedwig hooted indignantly and took off again.

"It's not my fault," Bethany called after her.

"Here," Hermione said, taking the letter. "I'll take it up to the Owlery for you later."

Bethany flopped back onto the grass, staring up at the sky. "What I wouldn't give for a Quidditch game."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but did not begrudge her best friend her down-time. "I mean there's no rule that says you can't go flying. I bet if you found the Lionesses, they'd join you."

The Lionesses - the school's mostly-affectionate nickname for the three Gryffindor Chasers - had taken Bethany under their wing as soon as she'd joined the Quidditch team. She wasn't as close with them as she was with Hermione, but she had a kind of big sister/kid sister bond with them all.

"What if they don't believe me?" Bethany murmured.

"I bet they do," Hermione said. "They've never turned on you before, have they?"

"Neither has Ron," Bethany said, making Hermione flinch. "What am I going to do, Mione?"

"About what?" Hermione asked. "Ron or the Tournament?"

"The Tournament," Bethany answered. "I have to compete."

Hermione was quiet for a few moments. "Well, I'm not an expert in magical contracts."

"But you will be," Bethany said, managing a small smile. "Give you a few days."

Hermione blushed. "We'd need to confirm exactly what the contract says. They said you have to compete or you'd lose your magic. We need to confirm what they mean by 'compete'."

"Isn't that obvious?" Bethany asked blankly.

Hermione pulled a face. "Okay, think of it like … Quidditch. If you were contractually obliged to compete in a Quidditch game. Would you have to actively participate and look for the Snitch, or would it be okay to just get on your broom and kind of … float."

"You'd better not."

Bethany flinched, and Hermione looked up sharply to see that the Lionesses had found them. Before she could say anything, Alicia dropped to sit beside Bethany, pulling her up and into a hug.

It was Angelina who had spoken, who was supposed to be the Quidditch Captain that year, but Katie looked equally as put out.

"I wasn't suggesting she did," Hermione said warily. "She's contractually obliged to compete in the Tournament."

"Ah, I see," Alicia said. She nudged Bethany's chin up to meet her eyes. "Don't think I didn't see that flinch, Snidget. Thought we'd got past that."

"George told us what happened this morning," Angelina said softly, sitting beside them. "I'm sorry we steamrollered you last night."

"We should have known better," Katie added. "We know you didn't enter, Bethany. Sometimes … Sometimes we forget how young you are."

Bethany wrinkled her nose, but didn't argue, leaning into the Chasers' combined embrace.

Alicia looked over at Hermione. "Trying to work out the definition of 'compete'?"

Hermione nodded, relaxing now she had been proven right. "Yeah. Quidditch was just an easy analogy."

Alicia wrinkled her nose. "It is, but it isn't. In Quidditch, Bethany has a set role to play. These kinds of tasks …"

"You know what they are?" Bethany interrupted.

Alicia flicked her forehead lightly. "Don't interrupt, Snidget. No, I don't know what the tasks are, but I did do some research. Historically, the tasks have always followed a set pattern - some kind of magical creature; some kind of treasure hunt; some kind of obstacle course. In theory, you could just step into the arena, give it a few seconds, and then send up red sparks, which is the acknowledged signal for surrender. That should satisfy the contract and allow you to walk away."

"Or," Angelina said, "you can stand up, fight, and prove them all wrong."

"It's your choice," Katie added. "No one is going to judge you. Okay," she said, at the look Bethany gave her, "a lot of people are going to judge you, no matter what you do. You can't control that, Snidget. You can only control what you do."

Bethany was quiet for a few moments. "I'm going to fight."

Angelina grinned. "That's our girl."