So are we still trying?
Or simply surviving?
We're facing these giants
The bigger they are, the harder they fall
But I still believe in
The dreams we've been dreaming
The hope that we build on
It's never too far, it's never too far
I wanna fight for what we got
'Cause I believe in family

"Family"
TobyMac

LUCY:

Mum and Dad both lived at work in the week that followed, leaving Cedric home alone to take care of me. (I'm not kidding --- they were so busy they transfigured my dad's desk into a bed and slept in his office overnight.)

There was no magical solution that could make my cough go away... and Cedric tried plenty. If anything, it got worse the first couple days, to the point where I couldn't sleep for longer than a few minutes at a time because I'd start coughing. The impending full moon made everything worse, adding a fever and sensory overload to the whole disaster.

Cedric and I figured out that I slept better if I was sitting up, so I set up camp on a downstairs couch. It was there that Hermione found me on Thursday afternoon.

"Oh, you really are sick," she said sympathetically as she perched herself on the arm of the couch opposite my head. "When Fred and George said Cedric told them you were sick, I just assumed it was the usual full moon kind."

"It was all the bloody smoke. The full moon doesn't help, of course, but-" I coughed a couple of times, as a kind of accidental emphasis. "I am actually legitimately sick. Wait, Fred and George? When did they-"

I started coughing too hard to continue, but Hermione understood what I tried to say.

"They came by this morning," she explained. "I just went with what they said at the time, but they're all playing Quidditch now so I headed down here to see you for myself."

I nodded, breathing carefully through my nose. "It's good seeing you. How is everyone doing? How are you?"

She shrugged. "Getting by. Everyone's still upset, of course, and Mr. Weasley has barely been home, but nobody is too rattled anymore. I've been reading what I can on house-elves, and what I've found is..."

It was great listening to Hermione rant --- I didn't have to talk at all. The occasional nod, cough, and "Mhm" was enough to keep her going for nearly half an hour. When she finally stopped to breathe, I opted for a topic change.

"Who's playing Chaser since I'm not there?"

"Bill," she replied. "Percy's trying Keeper. Yesterday it was Charlie who tried Chaser, with Bill as Keeper and Percy as Seeker."

I had another coughing fit in my surprise. "Percy's playing?" I spluttered.

"Everyone else was surprised too, when he offered yesterday. Ron said it's the first time he's played in probably a decade."

"I'll need to write to Oliver, he'll probably collapse from shock," I chuckled. "Say, any word on if either twin got Quidditch Captain?"

Hermione cocked her head. "No, why?"

"Just curious who it'll be with Oli gone."

"Oli?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

I laughed. "I'm the only person allowed to call him that. Don't tell the twins, but Harry and I were his favorites."

"We saw him at the Cup. Did you know he's the Keeper for the Puddlemere United reserve team?"

"Yeah, he wrote me a letter as soon as he found out," I said with a smile. "I told him Cedric and I would try to go to a match when they're playing the Mag-"

The rest of my sentence was lost in a coughing fit. Hermione reached for the glass of water on the table and passed it to me.

"Thanks," I croaked, draining the glass.

"Of course. Maybe I should go. You look exhausted, and I don't want anyone realizing I'm gone and coming to bother you too."

"Thanks for bothering me, it was good to see you."

"I'll come bother you the day of the full moon, if you'd like. Maybe I could help."

I shook my head. "No, it's okay. Enjoy the Burrow. Cedric can take care of me, you do it ten months of the year."

"Alright." She jumped to her feet and tugged lightly on my ponytail. "No braids?"

"Too much effort."

"Understandable. Come visit as soon as you feel better. Everyone misses you."

"I miss them t-"

Hermione smiled sadly. "Don't die, Lucy. See you in a few days."

I managed a wave with my left hand as I coughed into my right elbow. She disappeared through the doorway and was replaced thirty seconds later with Cedric.

"I hope you don't mind that I let Hermione in but not the twins," he said as he swapped out my empty glass for a full one. "I thought you might want to see someone's face other than mine."

I drank half the water before responding. "Thanks, the water helps a lot. And no, I don't mind, but it is nice having you and your face around again. I missed you. It didn't feel like home without you."

"How was it, with Mum and Dad? After everything you learned from the Pensieve?" Cedric sat on the nearest armchair and rested his elbows on his knees. "Was it alright?"

I nodded. "I didn't talk to either of them much, truthfully. I really did spend most of my time at the Burrow, until this week. Dad worked more than usual, and Mum was responsible for growing a large supply of dittany for St. Mungo's, actually, so I didn't help in the garden much either. It was alright."

"How was it for you, Lu? Were you alright?"

I sighed, the action triggering another coughing fit. Once it passed, I took another sip of water. "I'm so tired of coughing."

"You'll get better soon. You have to," he added with a grin. "Healer's orders."

"Brother's orders, more like," I replied. "But to answer your question, I suppose I was alright. I wrote a lot of letters, I baked a lot of cookies, I did homework by candlelight until I was nearly asleep so I wouldn't be left alone with my thoughts for too long. I got through."

Cedric nodded sympathetically. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here this summer, Lu. I won't let Dad send me anywhere next summer, I promise."

"One more normal summer?"

He nodded again. "One more summer with Quidditch and homework and throwing gnomes and working in the garden and staying up late playing games and even more Quidditch. And then once you graduate, we'll spend every summer working together, yeah?"

"Sounds like a plan," I said, resting my head back against the pillow and staring at the ceiling. "You really think you might be able to cure it, Cedric? One day?"

"I won't stop until I do."

"Did you learn anything over summer about it?"

"Everything I could. And there was..." He paused, and I glanced over to see what was wrong. His face had gone a bit pale, and he gripped the empty glass in his hand a little tighter.

"Ced?" I asked gently. "What is it?"

He blinked, his eyes going out of focus. "There was a little girl bitten by a werewolf. In June. Her name is Sloane. She couldn't have been more than six or seven. She told us that she had gone outside to see the bright full moon when... when..."

"Fenrir Greyback?" I guessed, pushing myself to a sitting position and turning my knees toward Cedric.

"We think so. He's known to target children."

"She's alright now, isn't she?"

He nodded, still not looking at me. "We were able to stop the bleeding. Powdered silver and dittany. But she was so scared, and her parents, they..."

"They what?" I asked after a moment.

A heavy silence fell that lasted for several seconds. "They didn't want her, Lu," he replied in a broken voice. "I saw a lot of horrible things this summer. Some injuries we couldn't heal. Some poisons that moved too fast for antidotes. Some illnesses that had progressed too far. But nothing haunted me more than what happened to Sloane."

"Where is she now?" My voice trembled. They didn't... want their own daughter? What if Mr. Midgen doesn't have the whole story? What if my family didn't want me either, what if they somehow found out what I was and didn't want me and that's why I'm here and not with them? What if-

"Still in St. Mungo's. Everyone there has more or less adopted her. We worked together to help her make her own space, and unless someone adopts her, we're hoping she can stay there until she goes to Hogwarts. That way we know she has a safe place to transform and access to wolfsbane." Cedric finally looked up at me, looking a little bit better having gotten it off his chest. "I want to take you to meet her next summer. I think you could really help her. She's the sweetest little girl, Lucy. You'd love her."

I nodded. "Take me. I want to meet her."

"I will. You will."

I sighed shakily, prompting another feeble coughing fit.

"For what it's worth, you do actually sound a bit better," Cedric said, rising from his chair and laying a hand on my forehead. "And you don't seem quite so hot."

I held out my arm. "You should feel how cold this is."

"Is that the shirt I charmed for you?" he asked, smiling.

I nodded. "Feel it, Ced, I think it's working overtime trying to keep me comfortable."

He touched the sleeve, yanking his hand back. "Merlin! That's freezing! How did you survive before that?"

"I honestly have no idea," I chuckled.

"Well, I'm glad Henry took up knitting and gave me the idea." Cedric took the now-empty glass from my hand. "Why don't you try to sleep a bit?"

"I will," I said with a nod, pulling a thin blanket up over my shoulders and curling up in a ball. "And Cedric?"

"Mhm?"

"I love you. I'm glad you're back."

He smiled. "I'm glad I'm back too. I love you too, Lu. Sleep well."

"I'll try," I mumbled, eyes sinking shut as I slipped into my first solid hour of sleep in quite a few days.

The screams gave way to howls, and the werewolf that had replaced Lucy Everlin Diggory darted into the forest in search of something to eat, anything to eat. It knew these woods, and it knew where the little animals liked to hide. And it was hungry.

The screams gave way to howls, and Cedric Diggory shuddered with horror. He found tears springing to his eyes at the sound of it. The thought of his baby sister in so much pain was a horrible one. The thought of Sloane in so much pain so many miles away was a horrible one, too.

He had learned so much about lycanthropy from Sloane, so much Lucy had never told him. She had told him about the fever before the transformation and the hypothermia after the transformation, and he had gathered that she was restless before and exhausted after. But when Sloane started eating everything in sight for the entire week before the transformation, Cedric had been taken aback. Was Lucy always hungry, too? And for a few days afterward, when Sloane didn't want to eat a single thing and immediately threw up anything someone did convince her to eat, Cedric was even more surprised. Was that true for Lucy, too? And the way she was so easily overwhelmed by even quiet noises and even dim lights and even gentle touches and even faint smells. How much had Lucy borne in silence for nearly nine years?

But of everything he had learned, it was the screams... oh Merlin, the screams. Cedric knew that the screams that became howls and the howls that became screams would haunt him as long as he lived. He shuddered one more time and returned to his parchment, finishing his letter to the little girl from St. Mungo's that he still saw in his dreams. Watching her parents walk out of the hospital without glancing back once, having to be the one to break the news to her that her parents were never coming back, sitting with her whenever he had the chance and listening to her talk through her trauma... Sloane's story was something else that would haunt Cedric as long as he lived.

The screams gave way to howls as the sun sank below the horizon, and Harry Potter spun a full 180° on his broom. He didn't recognize the screams or howls for what they were, but he heard a high-pitched sound he got the feeling he recognized.

"What is it, mate?" Ron shouted.

"Yeah, Harry, Quirrell jinx this broom too? Or did someone call us for supper?" Fred teased.

Harry turned back around, glancing down at the ground. Hermione stood off to the side like she often did, but that night, she was staring off into the distance with her fist pressed to her mouth.

"One sec," Harry muttered to Ginny, the closest person to him at the time. They were both Chasers that night, and Ginny had been about to score a goal when Harry heard the sound. "I'm going to see why Hermione looks so upset."

Ginny nodded wordlessly, and Harry flew down to where Hermione was standing.

"Did you hear that too?"

Hermione blinked in surprise, turning to face Harry with wide eyes. "What? Hear what? I didn't hear anything."

Harry got the feeling she was lying, trying to cover something up, and he wasn't sure for a second if he should press her or let it go. After a half second of thought, he decided to let it go. "I heard something," he said, shaking his head. "Guess it's just my imagination."

"Yeah, guess so," Hermione said slowly.

Harry lingered another half a second, giving Hermione one last chance to be honest, but when she glanced away down the hill, he sighed to himself and returned to the sky.

The howls gave way to screams, and Lucy Everlin Diggory found herself on the forest floor, exhausted but unhurt. She coughed a handful of times as she staggered back home, but her illness was mostly gone. A couple more days, and she'd be healthy enough to return to the Burrow. As she walked, she thought of Cedric.

Cedric was by the front gate, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited in the pouring rain for his sister to return. He'd barely slept all night; every time he closed his eyes, he saw Sloane's face, or Lucy's, or both. He found it was easier to keep his eyes open, so he tried to. He had eventually drifted off to sleep a couple hours before dawn, but in his nightmares, he heard the screams. The howls. And more screams.

She thought of Harry, too.

Harry was awake as well, staring at Ron's ceiling. He'd just woken up from a strange dream about the Forbidden Forest, as if his subconscious was attempting to remind him of something. He was reliving the night he and Hermione had saved Sirius, but this time, Lucy was with them, guiding them through the night. In his dream, both Lucy and Harry had cast their patronuses when the dementors converged, bear and deer charging them down side by side. He told himself he must just be missing Lucy after not seeing her for a week, and rolled over onto his side.

Lucy stumbled into the clearing, dead on her feet but unharmed.

Cedric vaulted the fence and held her tightly, thanking Merlin that she was home safely once again.

Sleep didn't come again to Harry. Whatever was nagging at the back of his mind refused to let go.

Fred was the one who opened the door when I returned to the Burrow on the last day of summer. "Lucy! Excellent! Hey, Harry --- wait, he's upstairs making sure everything is packed since Hermione and Percy had another row about house-elves."

"Are you going to let her in or not, Fred?" George asked, grabbing me by the elbow and dragging me out of the rain. "She's just been sick for a week, the last thing she needs is to freeze to death in this weather."

"Right, sorry. How're you feeling, Cub?"

I laughed, sliding my singular glove off and tucking it into my pocket --- I had realized that morning that Harry still had my other one, the one I'd given him in December. "I'm better, thanks. Good being back. What have I missed, other than Hermione and Percy? That's an argument I'd like to see, personally, since they're both... well..."

"Yeah, it was brutal," George said with a nod. "There's a reason Mum had to break it up."

Fred lowered his voice to a mutter. "We'll tell you about Ludo Bagman sometime, but not here or now. Don't want Mum overhearing." He straightened up and smiled. "You know the way to Ron's room. That's where Harry is."

"You do realize I like hanging out with all of you, right?" I asked, smiling nonetheless.

"Yeah, sure," Fred replied sarcastically. He and George each grabbed one of my arms and dragged me to the base of the stairs.

"Hey, I do!" I protested. "I can still use my legs, you know, it was only a week-"

"Is that Lucy's sweet voice I hear?" Mrs. Weasley called down from wherever she was on the winding staircase.

"You bet! She's on her way up now!" George shouted back as he and Fred set me back on my feet. I gave them one last playful look before starting my climb. I went a little slower than I usually did, still wanting to be careful not to cause a flare-up of the coughing, but I eventually came across Mrs. Weasley on the fourth floor.

"Welcome back, dear! I would hug you, but..." She held out the large laundry basket in her arms for emphasis. "How are you feeling? Better? Hermione said you were quite sick."

I smiled. "I understand. I'm better now, thank you. Is that heading up to Ron's room? I could take it."

"Are you sure? I don't want you overworking yourself."

"I don't mind!" I said, perhaps a little too eagerly. "It's only one more story."

"If you're sure." She transferred the basket to my waiting arms. "If there's confusion, Ron's dress robes are the maroon, and Harry's are the green. Have you gotten your dress yet?" she asked in a softer voice, eyes twinkling. "I'd love to see it, whenever you do."

I felt a blush rise to my cheeks. "My dormitory mates are going to help me order one once we get to school. They know more about that sort of thing than I do. I'll be sure to send you a picture once I decide on one."

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "I can't wait! Alright, run along now, I'm sure the boys will be quite glad to see you."

I headed up the stairs and set the basket down to knock. "Laundry delivery!" I called.

"Lucy!" The door flew open, and Harry practically jumped on me in a hug. "You're back!"

I laughed as I returned the hug, feeling the tips of my ears beginning to burn. "Yeah, I am."

I reached down to grab the basket and passed it to Ron, who also looked excited to see me. "Your mum was heading up with these, so I offered to bring them the rest of the way to you two. Do you mind if I crash your packing party?"

"Of course we don't mind," Ron said, tossing the basket onto his bed and hugging me, too. "We thought you were dying all week!"

I rolled my eyes and perched myself on the foot of Harry's bed. "Oh, please. You know it'd take more than a little smoke to kill me. What did I miss?"

"My dad's barely left the Ministry," Ron said as he and Harry began sorting through the laundry. "Has your dad been busy, too?"

"He has been, and Mum got called in for a slew of interviews, actually, since she was an Auror the first time everything was happening."

"I didn't know your mum was an Auror! That's wicked! Why'd she stop?"

I shifted uncomfortably, Malfoy's mocking words coming to mind. "A couple of reasons. It depends on who you ask. She took a job in Herbology when Cedric headed to Hogwarts, after Patricia Rakepick was revealed to be a Dark witch. She didn't really want me home alone for the better part of every day with her on the loose."

"What's an Auror?" Harry asked.

"Aurors catch Dark wizards," I replied. "Just about the most dangerous job you can do."

He nodded thoughtfully. "I can see why."

"What in the name of Merlin's-" Ron squawked, holding up what looked like an old maroon tablecloth. "Mum's given us Ginny's new dress by mistake. I'll go take it to-"

"Wait, no." I reached forward and caught him by the elbow before he got to the door. "Those are your dress robes."

"What?"

"They were on the list for you boys this year. Cedric got his a couple days ago. Harry's are in there too, the green ones."

Harry drew his out of the basket and saw for himself. Mrs. Weasley was right --- they matched his emerald eyes perfectly.

Ron flushed in anger. "Well, they're okay! Why couldn't I have some like that? I'm going to go talk to Mum."

"Ron, really, I like yours-" I started to say, but he hurried out of the room without another word, leaving me alone with Harry.

"That went well," Harry remarked.

I laughed. "I'll say."

"Do you know why we need these in the first place?"

"I have a hunch," I said with a shrug, "but neither of my parents would tell me exactly why when I asked. I'm sure we'll find out tomorrow when-" I was interrupted by a loud screech from Pigwidgeon. I jumped up and strode over to his cage. "What's wrong, Pig?"

The little owl hooted mournfully, shaking his head back and forth.

"Oh, is that treat too big for you?" I asked, noticing the awkward way his beak was wedged open by a piece of meat. I opened the door to his cage and held my right hand out. "C'mere, you silly thing, I'll get it un-stuck for you."

Pigwidgeon hopped onto my hand obediently, so I carefully plucked the treat from his beak with my fingers. I broke it up into smaller pieces and offered them on my palm. He gobbled the bits down without issue, and I let him back into his cage.

"Be careful next time," I said firmly as I shut the door. "Don't try to bite off too much at once. I won't always be around to save you from yourself."

I gazed at the owl a second longer as he looked up at me with his massive eyes. He reminded me of myself to an extent, at least in terms of size. That much we had in common.

"I can't believe he actually listened to you. He normally never shuts up."

I jumped about a foot into the air. I had completely forgotten Harry was there.

"Sorry," he chuckled as I turned to face him. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay." I was already blushing furiously at that point. "I knew you were there, I just got lost in thought, I guess."

"Ron just gets annoyed with him," Harry continued, a curious expression on his face. "He only gave him the treats to try to shut him up."

"I can't really blame him," I said as I lowered myself onto Ron's bed and started folding socks so I'd have something to do with my hands. "I mean, his last pet was... well, you know. I can imagine he'd be a little hesitant to truly love another pet. I mean, for all we know, Pig could be Voldemort."

We both turned to look at the tiny owl, now nipping at the feathers near his rear end, and burst out laughing.

"You said the name," Harry commented as our laughter began to dry up.

"You do," I pointed out. "I try not to say it around anyone else, but since you don't mind it, might as well."

He nodded, his eyes wandering to Hedwig's empty cage. "It's been over a week. You don't reckon Sirius has been caught, do you?"

"I reckon it would have been in the Prophet if he had, Harry, don't worry. Besides, it sounds like he could have gotten away in the first place if he'd really wanted to, so I think he'll be too smart to be captured now."

"You're right," he said, sighing.

"But you were still expecting a response by now?"

"Yeah. Hoping for one, anyway."

"It'll come, Harry."

Before he could reply, a hoarse yell could be heard just below us. We moved in perfect unison, racing down the stairs.

"What happened?" Harry called as we reached the fourth floor.

"Spider!" Ron squeaked.

"I got it," I said, rushing past him and stomping as hard as I could on the eight-legged fiend scurrying across the floor. I turned to Ron with a smile. "Want to finish him off?"

He shook his head. "No. I'm good. Thanks, Lucy."

"No problem," I replied.

"Is that Lucy I heard?" came Ginny's voice from the stairs. "Oh, it is!"

She rushed forward to hug me, Hermione quickly following.

"How are you?" Hermione asked, studying me with a critical eye.

I shrugged. "I'm alright. Do either of you happen to have something I could use to dispose of the spider under my boot?"

"Sure," Hermione said. She pulled a small tissue from her pocket and knelt down. "I was wondering if a spider was the reason why Ron shouted."

"Why else?" Ginny giggled.

"You two should have seen him in the Forbidden Forest, though," I said with a smile as Hermione handed me the wadded-up tissue. "Surrounded by acromantulas, and he stood his ground."

"Yeah, well," Ron stammered, blushing like mad as Hermione gazed at him in wonder, "it'll never happen again, so don't expect a repeat performance."

This time, everyone joined in on the laughter.

It was great to be back.

The next morning, I was woken suddenly by a loud slam of our front door. When I made my way down to the kitchen in a panic, I was greeted by an odd sight --- my dad was on his hands and knees with his head in the fireplace.

"Muggle neighbors heard bangs and shouting, so they went and called those what-d'you-call-'ems... please-men. Arthur, you've got to get over there!"

"Here!" came Mrs. Weasley's voice from the fireplace. I lingered in the doorway, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, but also not wanting to miss a single word spoken. There had been an attack? Not on Muggles or Muggle-borns, I hoped.

"It's a real stroke of luck I heard about it in the first place! I had to come into the office early to send a couple of owls, and I found the Improper Use of Magic lot all setting off. If Rita Skeeter gets hold of this one, Arthur-"

"What does Mad-Eye say happened?" Mr. Weasley's voice asked.

"Says he heard an intruder in his yard," Dad replied with a hefty helping of sarcasm. "Says he was creeping toward the house, but was ambushed by his dustbins."

Mr. Weasley's voice was far kinder, as if he were seriously considering what he was being told. "What did the dustbins do?"

"Made one hell of a noise and fired rubbish everywhere, as far as I can tell," said Mr. Diggory. "Apparently one of them was still rocketing around when the please-men turned up."

"And what about the intruder?"

"Arthur, you know Mad-Eye. Someone creeping into his yard in the dead of night? More likely there's a very shell-shocked cat wandering around somewhere, covered in potato peelings. But if the Improper Use of Magic lot get their hands on Mad-Eye, he's had it. Think of his record! We've got to get him off on a minor charge, something in your department... what are exploding dustbins worth?"

"Might be a caution. Mad-Eye didn't use his wand? He didn't actually attack anyone?"

"I'll bet he leapt out of bed and started jinxing everything he could reach through the window, but they'll have a job proving it, there aren't any casualties."

"Alright, I'm off," said Mr. Weasley's disembodied voice. I retreated backwards, knowing the conversation was over, and hurried back upstairs. What a weird conversation to overhear...

For whatever reason, Cedric's door was slightly ajar, so I peeked in.

Cedric had somehow slept through the door slamming and Dad's loud conversation. He was curled in a ball on his side, still deeply asleep. His suitcase was neatly packed in the corner, and I could see that he had already laid out his outfit for the day, the same way I had. It was funny falling in love with Harry at the same time my brother and Cho became official --- Cedric was always one step ahead, of course, blazing a trail for me to follow on my own timeline, but it made me happy all the same. It didn't even really matter that we weren't related by blood after all; he was as much my brother as Claire was my sister. We'd never share genes, Ced and I, but we'd always share little mannerisms like sleeping in the same position and putting in extra effort for the people we loved. A glance at the clock told me Cedric still had more time to sleep, so I closed his door silently and continued down the hallway to my room.

I changed out of my pajamas and climbed into my Muggle clothes for the morning, this time a red jumper and dark brown slacks. I braided my hair with extra care and even used a tiny bit of the perfume Hermione had given me for my birthday. It was very subtle, but I could detect traces of citrus and lavender. I wasn't sure if Harry would notice (he could be quite oblivious) but I figured it was worth a try. We'd be in the same compartment on the train all day, after all --- it couldn't hurt.

I heard Cedric stirring in the next room, so I did one last spray, tossed the glass vial into my backpack, and headed back to his room.

"Good morning, sunshine," I teased. "Slept in, I see."

"I see you didn't," he replied, grinning as he pulled on a sock.

I shrugged. "Dad was loud this morning. Figured I might as well get up."

Before Cedric could reply, Tuck burst into the room and sprinted straight to him.

"Good morning, boy," Cedric laughed, scooping Tuck off the ground and burying his face in his fur. "How did you sleep?"

Tuck started attacking Cedric's face with kiss after kiss, making both of us laugh.

"Why so affectionate, bud? I'm not complaining but- ack! Tuck, that lick went in my mouth! Ack, again! I'm shutting up now."

I laughed and laughed as Tuck continued to cover my brother's face in a shiny layer of slobber. Cedric struggled to keep his mouth shut as he laughed, too --- Tuck refused to stop.

"I'll be back before you know it, Tuck, don't worry," Cedric said, setting the crup down and dragging his sleeve across his face. His eyes sparkled with tears from laughing so hard as he grinned at me. "That was so funny. Have you ever seen him act like that, Lu?"

I shook my head, still giggling. "That was adorable, but no. He doesn't even do that when we come home from school."

Tuck jumped up onto Cedric's bed and promptly laid his head on my brother's lap.

"Looks like someone doesn't want you to leave," came Mum's voice from the doorway.

Cedric stroked Tuck's head, chuckling to himself. "I guess not."

"Well, breakfast is ready whenever Tuck lets you free. Made your favorite, Ced, since you've been gone all summer."

"Thanks, Mum," Cedric said with a smile. "I'll miss your pancakes."

"You can eat all the pancakes you want next summer," she chuckled. "I would have sent them with Lucy's cookies, but I wasn't sure how well they'd travel."

"Cedric home, pancakes every day?" I exclaimed. "Boy, next summer just gets better and better!"

Mum and Cedric both laughed, and Mum disappeared down the stairs. Cedric planted a kiss on the top of Tuck's head.

"I'll miss you too, bud," he murmured.

"C'mon, Tuck, you'll get fur all over Cedric's nice slacks," I said, beckoning for the dog to follow me. "He has a girlfriend to impress now, you know."

Cedric blushed ever so slightly as Tuck jumped off his lap, his hand drifting to his pocket. I didn't miss the movement, and I smirked. "What's in your pocket?" I asked innocently.

"You don't miss a beat, do you?" Cedric shook his head and drew a small silver box out of his pocket. "It's not much, but I got Cho a necklace in London, hoping she'd agree to date me. I'm planning on giving it to her on the train today. What do you think? Will she like it?"

He opened the box. Inside laid a necklace with two intertwined silver "C"s.

"For Cedric and Cho?"

"Yeah," he said softly, blushing even more. "I figured since we have the same initial, might as well... but, well, I was worried she'd think it was silly and-"

"Cedric, it's perfect," I assured him, closing the lid. "You two are going to make each other very happy. Stop worrying so much about it and just be yourself, because Cho loves you for you."

"I just..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "What if she doesn't like me after all? What if I'm not everything she's dreamed I'd be?"

"You're Cedric Amos Diggory, Hufflepuff's Golden Boy and Quidditch captain and prefect and soon-to-be Head Boy, and-" I added emphatically when he opened his mouth to protest, "I know for a fact that even if you weren't all of those amazing things, she'd be lucky to have you anyway because you care this much about her. So stop doubting yourself and just be you, unapologetically."

Cedric sighed, smiling a bit. "What would I do without you?"

"Who knows? Now come on, your pancakes are waiting."

Three hours later, Cedric and I found ourselves on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. I winked mischievously at him as he hurried in the direction of Cho Chang before going to join my own friends. We found ourselves a car and waved out the window at Mrs. Weasley and Charlie and Bill.

"I'd invite you for Christmas," Mrs. Weasley called, "but... well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with one thing and another."

Ron groaned. "Mum! What d'you three know that we don't?"

"You'll find out this evening, I expect! It's going to be very exciting! Mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules-"

That got the twins' attention. "What rules?"

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you. Now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George?"

With that, Mrs. Weasley gave one last wave, and the three of them disapparated with a pop.

"How rude of Mum not to tell us what's going on," Fred sighed. "Though I do like the sound of rules changing. Well, Georgie, let's leave the itty bitty fourth-years find a compartment. See you all at school!"

I glared at their backs as they left. "Watch who you call itty bitty!"

They only laughed and walked a bit faster down the hallway. We not-itty-bitty fourth-years found our own compartment and quickly settled in. I strategically positioned myself next to Harry, not that it was terribly difficult to do so. We'd ridden next to each other in third year easily enough, so what made fourth year any different?

Before much time at all, our compartment became the hub of Quidditch World Cup talk. Other kids all came and left, eager to share their own experiences, and we were still talking about the match when Draco Malfoy strolled past.

"We saw him right up close, as well. We were in the Top Box," Ron was saying before Draco interrupted.

"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley."

Harry stiffened next to me. "Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy."

But Draco was already distracted by the sleeve of Ron's dress robes hanging below Pigwidgeon's cage. "Oh Weasley, what is that?"

I lunged forward and caught his wrist before he could grab the sleeve. "None of your business, Malfoy, that's what it is."

He smirked, quickly flicking his wrist so his hand was gripping my wrist. Merlin, his hand was cold. "Oh, is that so?"

I tried to yank myself free, but he held tight. "Yes, it is so. Now let me go."

"It would seem feigned superiority is a Diggory family trait," Draco sneered, still not letting go of my wrist. "Saying what's my business and what's not."

"As if your father doesn't stick his nose in everyone else's business anyway?" I scoffed, attempting once again to tug myself free. Still Draco didn't budge.

"He knows his place. Your meddling mother, on the other hand-"

"She said to let her go, Malfoy," Harry said, reaching forward and firmly twisting my wrist out of Malfoy's freezing hand. As he did so, Draco reached forward and successfully wrenched Ron's robes free.

"Look at this! Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean, I'm sure they were very fashionable in about eighteen ninety-"

"Eat dung, Malfoy," Ron snarled, snatching the robes back, but it was too late. Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle were all howling with laughter.

Once he stopped laughing, Draco grew quite serious. "So, going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know, you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won."

"What are you talking about?"

"Are you going to enter? I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?"

Hermione didn't even look up from her book as she said flatly, "Either explain what you're on about or go away, Malfoy."

"Don't tell me you don't know? You've got a father and brother at the Ministry and you don't even know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago-"

"Shut up!" I snapped. "Don't you think there'll be an age limit? There's no way any of us will be able to actually compete, so why bother asking?"

"Ah, someone who knows what she's talking about," Draco said, smirking. "I suppose your brother will be competing, pride and joy of the Diggory family and all. Your father is quite annoying, according to my father, always going on and on about Cedric. Can't blame him, though, it distracts from you. Speaking of, is it true that he left you in the tent when he went to help the Ministry?"

I would have loved to throw a snarky response at him as he turned on his heel and left the compartment, but words utterly failed me. Ron marched forward and slammed the door so forcefully it shattered the glass. Hermione repaired it with a muttered spell, and I realized all at once that Harry was still holding my wrist.

His hand was trembling with anger, and he stared at Malfoy's retreating form for a second before glancing at me. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," I said softly, nodding and pulling my wrist (very, very reluctantly) out of his gentle grasp.

"What the hell was he talking about, Lucy?" Ron asked. "Enter what?"

"The Triwizard Tournament," I replied, sitting back down and rubbing the back of my neck. "I accidentally overheard Dad and Cedric talking about it that night in the tent. Nobody was supposed to tell their kids, but... well, you know my dad."

"Yeah," he muttered, sitting next to Hermione with a frustrated huff, throwing his robes back toward Pigwidgeon's cage, making the small owl screech in indignation.

"What did he mean by your dad leaving you in the tent?" Harry inquired, green eyes fixed on me.

"Oh, I don't know," I lied. "He must have overheard some stupid rumor on the train."

"Might've been the twins," Ron said with a shrug. "Couldn't hear quite what they were saying, but I definitely heard them talking about you while you were sick, and they sounded pretty upset about something."

I forced a laugh. "What is wrong with everyone all of a sudden? I thought Cedric was supposed to be the Diggory kid everyone gossiped about, not me!"

My friends snorted, and we lapsed into silence. The rest of the train ride (thankfully) passed uneventfully, and when we arrived at Hogwarts, rain was coming down in sheets. We made our way over to the carriages as quickly as we could, but we were still soaked to the bone when we arrived.

"I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather," Hermione murmured, watching sympathetically as the first-years clambered into boats.

"At least it wouldn't make much difference if you fell out of the boat or stayed in it," I laughed, prompting laughs from the others too.

It wasn't much drier inside the castle than it was outside --- Peeves was dropping water balloons on everyone who walked in.

"Hey, Peeves," I called, trying to appease him. "Would you mind maybe not-"

When an orange balloon interrupted me by exploding on my face, peace negotiations were concluded.

"Peeves, come down here at once!" Professor McGonagall shouted.

The poltergeist only laughed. "Not doing nothing! Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!"

"I shall call the headmaster! I'm warning you, Peeves-"

He stuck out his tongue and dumped the rest of his balloons with a flourish before disappearing up a staircase.

Professor McGonagall sighed, then turned her attention to the soaked hordes of students. "Well, move along, then! Into the Great Hall, come on!"

"Hey, Harry, this'll be your first Sorting since our first year, huh?" I asked, sliding into my typical seat between the twins.

He nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. Hope it's fast this year, though. I'm starving."

"Me too!" Ron agreed enthusiastically.

"Hiya, Harry!" Colin Creevey called from further down the table. I bit back a laugh at the I forgot about this kid look on Harry's face. Colin had somewhat grown out of his fanatical obsession, but he still seemed plenty excited to see Harry again after the long summer holiday without him.

"Hi, Colin," he replied.

"Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother's starting! My brother, Dennis!"

"Er... good!"

"He's really excited! I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?"

"Will do," he said, smiling politely before asking us in a lower voice, "Brothers and sisters usually go in the same Houses, don't they?"

"Oh, honestly, Harry," George said, slapping my back. I coughed a couple of times pathetically, laughing nonetheless. "Sorry, Cub! Didn't mean to do that!"

"No worries," I choked out, reaching for a goblet. I swore under my breath when I saw it was empty, making everyone laugh. I coughed a couple more times and brushed my wet hair out of my now-quite-red face. "Anyway, Harry, I think he was trying to point out that siblings don't always end up in the same house." I held up my red-and-gold tie for emphasis.

"Oh, right. Of course." He smiled, cheeks reddening slightly.

"Oh, and Parvati Patil's twin's in Ravenclaw, and they're identical," Hermione piped up. "You'd think they'd be together, wouldn't you?"

"I guess so," he said with a shrug. "Well, I guess we'll see if we get two Colins in Gryffindor this year, or just the one."

"You sound thrilled about the idea of two," I remarked sarcastically. He shot me a pained glance and directed his attention toward the front of the room as the first-years approached the Sorting Hat.

"Bit dense, isn't he?" Fred whispered in my ear.

"Shut up," I hissed, swatting his knee under the table.

"Thought you'd go for someone with a couple more brain cells," George added in an undertone.

"Well, that rules you two out," I retorted. When he didn't immediately laugh me off, I swatted the back of his head. "Shove off, Weasley."

To be quite honest, I was too hungry to pay much attention to the Sorting. I did notice, though, that Dennis Creevey was put into Gryffindor. Once Kevin Whitby was placed in Hufflepuff and welcomed with applause, Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet.

"I have only two words to say to you: Tuck in."

"Hear, hear!" the boys all around me shouted as food appeared on the plates.

Nearly Headless Nick floated into the middle of our little group. "You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know. There was trouble in the kitchens earlier."

I pursed my lips. "Trouble, sir?"

"Trouble indeed! Peeves, of course, the usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast --- well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council. The Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance, but, most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something. So what did he do in the kitchens?"

"Oh the usual. Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits-"

Hermione knocked her goblet over with a loud bang. "There are house-elves here? Here at Hogwarts?"

Nearly Headless Nick furrowed his brow as if confused by her question. "Certainly. The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred."

"I've never seen one!"

"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they? They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning, see to the fires and so on. I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?"

"But they get paid? They get holidays, don't they? And sick leave, and pensions, and everything?"

The ghost laughed. "Sick leave and pensions? House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions!"

Hermione slammed her fork and knife down and shoved her plate away.

"You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself, Hermione," Ron said, nudging her plate back toward her.

"Slave labor. That's what made this dinner. Slave labor."

"Hermione," I said, trying to reason with her, "what's done for tonight is done. They've already made the food, so you might as well eat it. I've met the ones in the kitchens before, and they'd rather you eat the food and enjoy it than not eat it at all."

"You've met them? And done nothing for them?"

"I've baked cookies with them before, yeah," I said with a nod. "They're very sweet. They'd want you to eat tonight, Mione, so please."

But she refused to eat another bite, staring darkly at her still-full plate while the rest of us enjoyed the feast. Dumbledore's announcements began as soon as the food disappeared.

"So! Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-Yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

Fred snorted, saying in an undertone, "The only useful thing we've ever seen in his office is that beautiful map we nicked all those years ago."

I snorted too as Dumbledore continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

My jaw dropped, as did Harry's and Fred's and George's, as well as Cedric's and Henry's across the room.

"This is due to an event," he continued, as if he hadn't just dropped a horrific bombshell on the room, "that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy --- but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts-"

Before he could continue, the door banged open. A man I recognized as Mad-Eye Moody entered the Great Hall. He looked the same as he had when I met him as a child, when my mum was still an Auror. I remembered Cedric being scared of him, and I understood why. The magic blue eye was unnerving.

Nobody spoke as Moody made his way to the professor's table and dropped into a chair.

Professor Dumbledore smiled. "May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? Professor Moody."

"Moody? Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?" Harry whispered to Ron.

"Must be," Ron replied.

"It is," I whispered. "I've met him. You heard that conversation between Mr. Weasley and my dad, too?"

Harry and Ron nodded tersely before returning their attention to the front of the room.

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat. "As I was saying, we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're joking!" Fred shouted, unable to stop himself.

The Great Hall erupted into laughter.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley, though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar... er, but maybe this is not the time. Where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament... well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely. The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities --- until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

The words "death toll" did not sit well with me, but if they were bringing it back, surely the Tournament would be safer this time... right?

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament, none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger. The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money." Whispers filled the Hall, but they fell silent when Dumbledore spoke again. "Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts, the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are seventeen years or older will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration."

Meaning... Cedric. He'd be seventeen a little over a week before Halloween.

"This is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion. I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen. The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

To say the Weasley twins were upset about the age limit would be an understatement, but I did shoot Malfoy a smug look as we left the Great Hall. I had been right.

Everyone else talked about the Tournament as we climbed the stairs, talking about how badly they wanted to enter and how they might fool the judge, but my thoughts were with Cedric. I'd largely forgotten about his argument with Dad given the events that followed it, but everything came flooding back to me at once. I bid the boys good night and made my way up to the dormitory in silence, Hermione muttering to herself about house elves. Parvati and Lavender gushed about dresses, and I listened with rapt attention to everything they said, eager for the distraction.

"You should get a blue dress, Lucy, to match your eyes!" Lavender squealed.

"Or purple, to compliment them instead of matching them," Parvati suggested.

"What color are your dresses?" I asked. "I haven't even looked for one yet, knowing you two would help me out."

"We don't know!" they exclaimed in unison, setting us all into a fit of giggles. I felt better being momentarily distracted. But when I was left alone with my thoughts that night, lying in bed, an inkling of anxiety wormed its way into my heart.

Death toll?

A/N: Eek! So begins Year 4! Goblet of Fire is my favorite book, so I really hope to do it justice in this story. (Side note: I have finally seen all of the movies. I wasn't allowed to read or watch Harry Potter as a kid, actually, so I'm a relatively new fan. That being said, Chamber of Secrets was actually my favorite movie! What movie is your favorite? Let me know below, I'm curious!)

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I'll see you all on Saturday with Chapter 53!

(Oh, and just pretend that the necklace at the top is two "C"s instead of horseshoes... that was the closest thing I could find to my mental image.)