Author's Note: Halloween takes place over three chapters. If you like to read things in chunks, the whole section will be up by December 19th. Happy reading!

Monday October 31, 1994

On Hallowe'en morning, Melissa purposefully slept-in. She took her time to get ready for the day, knowing that her first class wasn't until second period.

And to wait for Hallow Houdini to finish breakfast and leave. That too.

As she entered the common room, she was surprised to see two other students still inside. Most had rushed off in excitement to see people put their names in the Goblet of Fire; yet here was Byron, sitting next to a sniffling boy who looked strangely defeated.

"Hey, Byron," she spoke softly as she approached the pair. The boys quickly straightened, as though afraid of being caught showing emotions, (little Slytherins, honestly!) "Hey, don't mind me, just… is everything okay?"

The other boy, a tiny little brown-haired child, looked positively miserable, yet also looked angry at being asked the question. Even Byron looked… oddly solemn and annoyed. He, at least, gave some kind of answer, but only after giving a resigned sigh, "Melissa, may I introduce Graham Pritchard, son of Simon Pritchard. Graham, may I introduce Melissa Bennett. I believe you're familiar with her?"

It took Melissa a moment of thought. Graham Pritchard is one of the firsties, she recalls that fact. Though on trying to remember who Simon Pritchard is, it took a second, until-

"Oh!"

AZKABAN!

Her hand flew to her mouth as the answer hit her like a truck.

"You're his-"

Azkaban fell on HALLOWE'EN!

"I'm so sorry! I- are you- do you want me to talk to Professor Snape? I can get you something to excuse you from classes today. Or maybe Madam Pomfrey has something-"

"Mel!" Byron cut her off. "Melissa, enough. Thank you, but enough." He looked over at the little Pritchard, gauging the boy's own reactions, before looking back at her. "We'll manage by ourselves," his gaze then broke from her, glaring daggers at someone behind her, "and no one else."

Confused, Melissa looked behind her to find Draco Malfoy standing there. His eyes were red, though he straightened his shoulders as if little was amiss. "I only wanted to share my condolences. Pritchard," he looked to the younger boy with a nod, "I'm sorry for your loss. I… I know exactly what you're going through-."

"Heh," Byron scoffed, "do you?"

"BYRON!" Melissa snapped.

"What?!"

She silently mouthed, "SHUT UP", then stepped back and gestured for Draco to continue.

He looked visibly distraught, but continued. "I know our fathers were on different sides of the law. Obviously one can say your father was the only innocent person to die that day. That said, both of our fathers were right there when Pettigrew… They were caught in the middle of the explosion. So… if you'd like someone to talk to, someone who understands… …You know where to find me."

Draco started to walk off, but then another voice spoke, catching everyone off guard.

"Actually-" it was Graham Pritchard, "we can talk now, if that's alright?" He looked over at Byron, "If you don't mind?"

"I-?" Byron genuinely looked offended by this request.

Catching on, Melissa quickly said, "That's a great idea! Let's grab some breakfast, Byron. We'll see you two later."

Melissa practically dragged Byron away from the seats, allowing Draco to take over and share his grief with Graham Pritchard. When the VATIC pair exited the common room, Melissa whirled on him in an instant.

"YOU ARE UNBELIEVABLE! WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!"

"What are you so mad about?!"

"What am I-? Byron, it's their dads' one-year death anniversary! How can you POSSIBLY think that what you just did in there is okay?!"

He looked at her like she's an idiot. "Did you forget that Malfoy's dad was a Death Eater?"

"And did you forget that Malfoy was the one to testify against him and help put him in Azkaban?"

"Of course not. He did the right thing. That's why I don't get what you're so angry about."

If eyes could jaw-drop, that was her expression at that moment. "Oh- my- god… Byron," she put her hands on his shoulders, trying desperately to reason with the boy, "first of all, you are allowed to both love your father and acknowledge when he's being a piece of shit, but still love him anyways. Second, and this is important, because he testified, Malfoy feels a lot of guilt over his father's death. If you had not warned your dad about my prophecy, and he went to work and got bit by that werewolf instead, or was killed from the poison, would you not feel incredible guilt and feel like his death was all your fault?"

His lips tightened and twisted as he thought it over. "That's true, but that's still different than-"

"OH MY GOD, CHILD!" Melissa's face looked dramatically skyward. Head shaking and arms raised, she conceded defeat. "Okay- that's it- we need to go."

She started to drag him off. He stumbled after her for a few steps before realizing, "The stairs are the other way."

"We're not going to breakfast yet," she clipped, heading straight for the crystal caves.

"Where are we going then? And why?"

"Because you, as a member of VATIC, desperately need a lesson on empathy!"

"For people like Lucius Malfoy? Hmph! And how do you think you're going to accomplish that?"

"For people like Draco, actually. As for how," she pulled out her wand to open the secret tunnel, and her wand hummed with glee, "by opening your mind up to new perspectives."

Harry awoke to a semi-familiar feeling of molasses in his heart. The sensation of Hallows, as is expected as the Master of Death, …and if today should end the way he feared, then that feeling will only intensify thanks to his deal with Dumbledore. …He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Nevertheless, he decided to go about his day as if nothing were amiss. He sat up and moved the bed curtains aside, only for them to instantly and magically wrap around his body.

"AHH!" His feet stumbled, leaving his legs sprawled on the floor as his body hovered and constricted within the tight curtain. "What the? Ack! Help!"

The room stirred as the other boys awoke to the sounds of distress. Cries of confusion rang out, until suddenly Wayne called out, "Blast, I slept in! Sorry, Harry! Finite incantatem."

The curtain relaxed at once, and Harry slid to the floor.

"Huh? What happened?!" Ernie asked sleepily.

"I'd like to know the same thing!" Harry said, shooting Wayne a dark look.

Wayne flushed, scratching the back of his head. "Sorry, it's just- since Bennett threatened us to watch out for you when the 'impartial judge' comes to Hogwarts, and seeing as it's just a cup, I figured it wouldn't hurt to jinx your bed to make sure you wouldn't- you know-?"

"Sneak out and put my name in the Goblet of Fire?" Harry asked flatly.

"W-well-" Kevin joined in with a stammer, "M-maybe not sneak out."

"Maybe imperio'ed into dropping his name into it in the middle of the night?" Oliver asked with half a tease.

"Hey, it could happen!" Kevin shouted.

"Nothing wrong with covering our bases," Wayne added.

Oliver snorted, "Against the only person in our class that's able to fight off an imperio?"

"He's right," Harry huffed, as he finally stepped out of the tangled curtain. "Which means you do think I'm going to force my way into the Tournament!"

Both Kevin and Wayne looked nervously at each other, and looked back at Harry flush with guilt. "N-no, of course we don't-"

"Whatever," Harry huffed angrily. "I don't care what you think. Believe whatever you want, I know I'm telling the truth." He snatched his robes and cloak and stormed off to the loo, slamming the door behind him. He went through his routine, thoughts roiling in outrage against his friends' lack of trust. How dare they, after everything they talked about! Did it mean nothing to them?!

He threw a cloak over his robes, moving to storm out of the loo, only to pause as his mind stilled into a silent calm. The change in sensation confused him. In that pause, he looked over at his reflection, and blinked in surprise at seeing his face floating above nothingness.

Oh. I grabbed the wrong cloak.

He looked down at the nothingness below him, at the invisibility cloak wrapped and hooded around him, and pondered his odd state.

He was so angry a moment ago. Yet now he felt… safe. Protected. Like none of those concerns matter. Why should they? He knows his own self, and no one would dare force him into entering the tournament while he's safely hidden under the cloak. Everything's fine.

Is it though? His mind countered. If he stays invisible, people will think he used the cloak to walk past the age line. Which… Come to think of it, could that work?

Best not to test it. He removed the cloak. Instantly, a part of him felt naked and exposed without it. He put an arm into the silky material, feeling a touch more calm in having it close. Also, he noted, the molasses sensation intensified. Silently, he moved the cloak and stuffed it into a large robe pocket, letting one hand graze the soft material as he exited the loo.

"I'm going to the common room," he said, not caring to look at the other boys. "You know, to wait for an escort, since I can't be trusted."

That escort ended up being Hannah. He was only half surprised to see her waiting around (for him) …because his other half was disappointed.

Clutching onto the cloak, he offered a friendly smile and offered to walk with her to the great hall for breakfast. They walked towards the hall, but found the way obscured as people stood watching Lee and the Weasley Twins as they proclaimed a solution to the age line. Fred and George hopped over the line and moved towards the Goblet of Fire. Instead of dropping their names, however, the two were blasted away! When they sat back up, the boys were sporting long, white beards to rival Dumbledore's.

People laughed at the result. Fred, meanwhile, shouted in frustration. "UGH! How is it that we can make enough inventions to make the Ministry's head spin, but we can't cross a bloody age line with an ageing potion?!"

"It's bloody nonsense if you ask me!" George agreed.

As they complained, Harry felt a tug on his sleeve. "We should keep moving, Harry," Hannah said gently. "You're not supposed to go near the Goblet, remember?"

He gripped the cloak tighter, and forced a reassuring smile onto his face. "I'm not going to enter the tournament, Hannah. I'm just here to watch."

His words, unfortunately, got the Chucklebunnies' attention.

"Say, Harry," Lee approached him casually, "if you were going to enter the tournament, how would you pull it off?"

The twins joined in, comically stroking their beards in curiosity, "Yes, Dear Boy, do tell!"

All eyes turned to Harry, and he instantly felt on the spot. Curse Melody's stupid visions! He rubbed the material of the invisibility cloak, letting the feeling of safety and calm wash over him. With it, came an interesting thought. Maybe giving them a theory would help? …Or would that make things worse if it works? …No, I'm sure they won't get it to work. Or, if they do, it doesn't mean I will get chosen. "If I were…" He regarded Dumbledore's setup, trying to think of what someone could do to pull it off. "There's no way I could cross the age line if I tried… Unless…"

They leaned in on their toes. "Unless?"

"Do you even need to cross the line to put your name in? What if you use a levitation charm to put it in?"

That remark got whispers stirring. Moments later, a female voice called out, "WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" and a slip of parchment went flying. The raised wand directing the parchment was held by Victoria Cromwell, whose eyes were lit with gleeful determination as the parchment got close.

*BOOM!*

A zap of light connected to the parchment and lightning-struck Cromwell. She fell backward, only to push off the ground sporting her own small beard. The hall fell to hysterical laughter!

"Not that, then!" Fred said with a chuckle.

"How do you think it knows she's underage?" Lee wondered.

"From the Trace, of course," this time it was Hermione who spoke. "The Trace is tracked by a person's wand. It's why any wand work outside of school is reported to the Ministry, but accidental magic and wandless magic is not."

"...Wandless magic doesn't count?!" George looked to Fred, both grinning wickedly. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Do it!"

George gave it a go. Using his metallic arm, he made a second parchment flutter to the Goblet of Fire, edging closer than Cromwell's had done.

*BOOM!*

Another zap of light came out, and now George's beard was so long it reached the floor and looked frazzled with electricity.

"Ooohooohoohooooo!" His body shuddered with electric tingles. "Not that, either!"

"Maybe it's because your arm's attached to you?" Harry suggested playfully.

Fred gave him a cunning look. "Care to test that, then? How about you try it?"

Harry laughed and shook his head. "No way! I'm not tempting fate like that! How about you, Hermione? You know how to do wandless magic, right?"

Several people from all schools looked at Hermione in surprise. Hermione, though, huffed indignantly. "Absolutely not! It would be against the rules! Not to mention competing would be exceptionally hard for those of us underage. Honestly, I don't understand why you two are even trying."

"Uhhhh, eternal glory and galleons, obviously."

"Right, Harry?"

How many times do I have to tell people?! "I'm the Boy Who Lived, I already have fame. I've also inherited more galleons than I'll use in a lifetime. Even without those, I've already had enough dangers in my life that I wish never happened. Why would I want to risk my life over some crazy tournament, after everything else I've been through?"

"That's right!" Hannah said, surprisingly loudly. "So you all leave him alone! Come on, Harry, let's go."

He closed his eyes briefly, in lieu of rolling them. Taking a breath, he reopened his eyes and was about to follow Hannah, only for his ears to catch as a new voice whispered, "Harry!"

He turned his attention to see the Beauxbatons students walking single-file behind their Headmistress towards the Goblet of Fire, each one passing across the age line and dropping their names neatly into the cup with a flare of flames. Among the line was a witch he recognized instantly. "Hey, Ornella!"

The group flinched as he waved loudly. Madame Maxime, of course, had heard and turned around. She regarded him briefly, then turned to Ornella with a stern look. Ornella tried to shrink herself, but it wasn't enough to prevent the Headmistress from interrogating her in French. He heard his name said among her answers, which caught the other Beauxbatons students' attention. Soon a few students raised their hands and asked the Headmistress questions, but only once she acknowledged them. It was a small back and forth, one which Harry didn't understand. When it ended, the group broke their single file and moved into the Great Hall.

Ornella, however, remained behind and gave him a proper, "Hello, Harry! It's good to see you!"

"It's good to see you, too!" Harry said. His eyes flicked to the Headmistress. "What was all that about?"

"Ah," Ornella blushed lightly, "Madame Maxime wished us to go back to our… ah, our carriage after giving our names. I and others asked that we stay in the school for breakfast. She agreed."

Their conversation seemed longer than that, but Harry didn't question it. Beside him, he saw Hannah fidget in place, and he straightened his back for a moment of decorum.

"Hannah, allow me to introduce Ornella Salvatore, a friend I met in Italy. Ornella, this is Hannah Abbott, a friend of mine in Hufflepuff."

The girls greeted each other politely. Then Hannah turned curious. "If you're from Italy, why do you go to Beauxbatons? Isn't that far?"

"It is," she admitted, "but my mother is French so we have a… come dirlo, a family way in?" Harry nodded in understanding as she continued. "It is a very good school, so my father agreed that I study there."

"That's cool."

They continued talking as Harry followed her over to the Ravenclaw table. Hannah, though confused, joined him at that table. Feeling mischievous, Harry also waved over Stephen and Luna, having them join their group as he sat beside Ornella. He left a space on his other side for Luna, while Stephen took Ornella's other side and quickly moved to catch up with her about art and life. Introductions were made all around, and Harry blinked in surprise as Luna introduced herself in French. She really is always full of surprises…

"Avez-vous tous inscrit vos noms pour le Tournoi?" Luna asked. Harry was able to parse enough words to understand that she's asking them about putting their names in for the tournament.

They all answered in the affirmative.

"Oui, mais j'espère que ce ne sera pas choisi," one boy, Jean-Luc, said. "Je joue gardien de but pour mon équipe de Quidditch."

Quidditch! Now that's a word he can understand! "I play seeker on my team!"

Jean-Luc blinked. "Seeker?"

A few others answered him, "Le attrapeur."

"Ah! D'accord! Comme Madeline et Fleur! You play with us?"

"No," Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat, wracking his brain for how to answer in French. "Je nais pas…" the number escaped him, so he rephrased it. "Je suis quatorze."

A few people snorted in laughter. He shrank a moment, catching that they were laughing at him. Ornella said something scolding to the others, while Luna gently corrected his phrasing.

It didn't make sense to Harry. "I have fourteen years?

"They treat their age like a possession rather than a state of being."

He wasn't sure if that actually explained anything at all.

Though at least one girl, Madeline, recovered from her laughter to respond kindly. "You can still play against us. Just not in a real game. It would be fun to see who is zee best attrapeur. Zee best seeker."

"Oh. You're Beauxbatons' seeker?"

"Yes, but Fleur will 'ave to take over for me if I am chosen for ze Tournament." She directed him to a beautiful girl with platinum blonde hair who was sitting farther away from the group. Said girl acknowledged them with little more than a huff. Madeline, on the other hand, offered an encouraging smile. "Still, it would be interesting to play against you."

Harry smiled at the offer. "I would like that."

Breakfast continued on with a playful air. The only big change ups were when Luna left the main group to talk with Fleur (who seemed quite shocked and confused that the third-year was wanting to speak with her at all), and when the Twins walked in (their beards now shorn) and began talking to their group in their own heavily accented French. The French students seemed mixed between wanting to talk with the Boy-Who-Lived and the boy with the metal arm, so conversation flowed almost unending on their side of the table. When the bell rang, Harry waved goodbye to the group, happy to have made more acquaintances and potential friends.