The days following the attack, Ben found it really hard to sleep. He had always sort of been a nocturnal person, but it was usually because he wanted to stay awake. However, the last nights of August were terrible.

He couldn't wait to start school, so he tried to make days go by faster, but it didn't help in the slighest that he only managed to fall asleep when it was almost dawn.

Everytime he closed his eyes, he kept remembering the moment he found out the Death Eater in front of them was Audrey. He couldn't stop hearing her voice pronouncing his name from behind her mask, over and over inside his mind. Perhaps he was overreacting, but he truly felt sick at the memory and thought of what his sister had become.

He simply couldn't believe it. The last time they had had a significant conversation, he was sure Audrey was realising it wasn't worth it to continue being scared of their parents, and she had begun to openly date Steve, without a care of what Katherine and Sébastian Walker would say. Merlin, she had promised she'd protect him and Alycia!

He assumed they had just been empty words, and it hurt him to know he had believed her lies. He thought of himself as rather smart, but there he was, realising he, in fact, was ridiculously and unbelievably stupid. He had been so blinded by the hopes of a better future with his sisters, that he had lost his senses.

What was he going to do, then? He was back to being trapped in Walker Manor, stuck with a family that would despise him if only they found out the truth about him, and unable to keep Alycia completely safe.

He didn't want to hear from Audrey ever again. And he really meant it.

Luckily, she didn't go back home for the rest of the summer, so he didn't have any reasons to see her. Sébastian and Katherine Walker were missing for a couple of days after the match, too, so their grandparents took care of them.

And, when it was finally time for Ben to go back to Hogwarts, he couldn't hold back his joy. As soon as he stepped on the train, he went to find his friends, and joined them in a compartment, per usual.

"We've got to tell you something odd that happened before," announced Ron, as soon as Ben sat beside him.

"Okay, go ahead."

"You know my older brother, Bill, right?"

"I haven't met him in person, but I know who he is."

"Alright, well," the redhead continued. "He told us we're going to have an interesting year."

"Haven't the past three years been interesting enough already?" he frowned.

"Good point," agreed Harry, nodding.

"But we've never been told it was going to happen," said Hermione, sounding slightly dry. "Bill also said that he might be able to come see 'a bit of it.'"

"A bit of what?"

"That's exactly what I said!" exclaimed Ron. "And my mum said we'd want to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas."

"Perhaps there's going to be some sort of... I don't know, maybe they came up with new winter activities to do at school during the break?"

"I don't know," shrugged Harry. "But they said we'll find out this evening."

"Thank Merlin," commented Ron. "I don't think I would've been able to wait much longer to know."

Ben forced himself to let out a chuckle, which confused him. His mind was unclear, and he didn't even know why. He was happy he was going to Hogwarts, and he would be able to spend a whole year with his best friends but, for some unknown reason, there was a sense of... emptiness on his chest.

Maybe emptiness wasn't the word. Perhaps it was way too dramatic. But his heart felt heavy.

"Are you okay, Ben?" wondered Harry.

"Yes, why?" he answered at once.

"You seem off."

"What?" asked Ben, befuddled. "What do you mean?"

"I... I don't know, you just seem sad," he replied softly, his voice full of worry. Ben suddenly wished he had decided to sit next to him.

"Yeah, you do," added Ron, nodding. "You've barely even answered what we've written to you in the notebooks."

"I've replied to everything..."

"No, you haven't," retorted Hermione, eyeing him in an odd way. "It's no use to lie, Ben. We've been talking about it for some days."

"Well, I'm really glad you got the chance to chat about it in person while you were all together having fun."

There was momentary silence after that in the compartment. But not even a single second of it inside Ben's head. Why on earth did he say that? He didn't understand. They hadn't been rude to him, so why was he being rude to them? After all they had done for him, after all the love they had offered him, after how much they had shown they cared about him.

"Ben..." spoke Ron, his voice sounding clearer and calmer than ever. "You know there's nothing we would've liked more than you being with us, too, right? My parents and I thought of all the ways we could manage to take you with us to the World Cup, and to then stay at home for the rest of the summer. Harry and Hermione tried to come up with a plan, too, but it was all too risky. Your parents would've found out you had lied, and my parents said it would be way too dangerous for you."

"I know," he mumbled, not daring to meet their eyes for more than an instant. "I know, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to s... I completely understand, I don't know why I said that? I'm so stupid, I don't know what's been happening to me these days."

"These days?" repeated Harry. Ben nodded. "When did it all start?"

"When we saw Audrey that night," he responded at once, without the tiniest bit of hesitation. "It was as though it changed... something inside my brain, inside of me? I really haven't got a clue of how to describe it. I just feel as though everything is, well, different."

"Finding out something like that can't be easy for anyone," reasoned Hermione. "I wanted to talk to you about that, by the way."

"About Audrey?"

The girl nodded.

"Hermione, don't," began Harry, worriedly.

"I'm going to tell him, Harry," she stated, very seriously. "It's important, you know it."

"But I don't think now's the right moment for you to tell him, Hermione," he said, sounding even more serious than the girl. They both went silent for some instant, not looking away from each other.

It was as though they were still talking, but silently, without words, until Hermione spoke up. "Okay, not now."

The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The lunch trolley came rattling along the corridor, and both Ron and Harry stood up so quickly they scared Boots, who was sleeping peacefuly beside the black-haired boy.

"Oh, come on, Boots!" exclaimed Ben, getting on his knees on the floor to take a look at his cat, who was now hiding under their seats. "Why are you so dramatic?"

"Like father like... daughter," teased Ron. Ben sighed, and went back to sitting down. He watched as the lunch trolley continued going down the corridor, and Harry closed the compartment door before throwing himself into his seat, smiling from ear to ear.

"What are you smiling at?" wondered Ben.

"Nothing..." he replied, still grinning.

The brunet furrowed his eyebrows. "Who's out there?"

"The trolley witch," replied Ron.

Ben's curiosity took over him, and he took advantage of the fact that he was sitting right next to the door, and flung it open to find out. But, when he poked his head out and saw Mei-Xing's jet black hair walking up the corridor, accompanied by her giggling friends, he wished he hadn't.

"Do you have a crush on-"

"No!"

"I didn't even say her name, Harry."

Harry visibly relaxed, all of a sudden, but went back to panicking as he spoke. "I know, I just, er- I meant that I don't fancy her- I MEAN, I don't fancy anybody."

"Okay...?" he said, trying his best to sound casual, and ignoring the sensation of relief on his heart.

———————————————

The Sorting Ceremony was honestly the same as all of the ones he had attended. He couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that, only one year later, Alycia would be between the young witches and wizards waiting to be sorted.

His eyes drifted towards the Slytherin table, and he found himself searching for Audrey, trying to guess if she was thinking the same. But then he remembered Audrey was no longer at Hogwarts. He wondered what she was doing now. He imagined her telling Steve how much she loved him, and how glad she was that she had decided to betray her parents for him, knowing the only person she hadn't betrayed was them.

He imagined how proud Katherine and Sébastian probably were now that they knew their perfect daughter was back on their side. He then realised it probably meant they also expected Alycia and him to follow her path. And, now that there had been an attack, maybe they expected it to happen sooner than later. He had to find a way to run away with Alycia as soon as possible. All of a sudden, he felt extremely sick, and lost even the tiniest bit of appetite.

He stared blankly at the front of the Great Hall for the whole Sorting Ceremony, only moving to clap when he saw his friends do so. Once it had finished, the empty dishes in front of them were filled with delicious-looking food, but Ben barely reacted. He just wanted the feast to be over so they could go to their dorms and he could finally fall asleep.

Clang!

Hermione had knocked over her golden goblet. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, staining several feet of white linen orange, and Ben had let out a curse word out of surprise, but Hermione paid no attention.

"There are house elves here?" she said, staring, horror-struck, at Nearly Headless Nick, whose presence Ben hadn't noticed until then. "Here at Hogwarts?"

"Certainly," said Nearly Headless Nick, looking surprised at her reaction. "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?" shrugged Nearly Headless Nick. "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?" inquired the girl. "They get holidays, don't they? And- and sick leave, and pensions, and everything?"

Nearly Headless Nick burst into laughter. "Sick leave and pensions? House elves don't want any of that!"

The ghost floated away, still chuckling to himself. Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from her.

"Oh c'mon, 'Er-my-knee," said Ron, accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding. "Oops- sorry, 'Arry..." He swallowed. "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!"

"It's a hunger strike," she replied. "Look, Ben's part of it, too."

"What?" he asked, disoriented. He was sure he had missed a good part of the conversation, and had no idea of why he was being mentioned. Until he looked down, and realised his plate was empty, too. "No, I'm- I'm just not hungry."

Hermione blinked a lot of times, very quickly. "But you agree with me, don't you? This is slave work!"

Ben really didn't know what to say. "Well, er- I do agree that house elves should be treated with, by far, a lot more respect than they are in some cases. I don't think not eating is going to help in the slightest, though," he reasoned. "I think there's other, much better ways. I personally do my best to be kind and help the house elves at home..."

"What?" she exclaimed, interrupting him. He blinked, dumbfounded. "What do you mean by that?"

"By what?"

"You... You have house elves at home?"

"Erm- We have Deedee, and some others, too, but I like Deedee the most," he replied, slowly. "She's my frie-"

But Ben didn't get the time to finish his sentence. Hermione got up, walked up to where Ginny Weasley was sitting, and joined her.

"Why did she do that?"

"Well, you just told her you have elves at your home," reasoned Ron. "And she considers them to be slaves."

"But that's not my fault, it's not like I was the one who got them," he explained. "They were already at home before I was even born!"

"It's okay," said Harry, in a calming tone. "She'll eventually realise it's not your fault."

"I hope so," he replied. "I'll talk to her tomorrow."

When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "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 thirtyseven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it." The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. He 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 students. "It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What?" gasped Harry. He turned around to look at every one of his team members, mouthing something soundlessly. They all seemed as horrified and surprised as him.

"This is due to an event 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-"

But, at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open. There was a man standing in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table, a dull noise echoing through the Hall with every step.

Once he reached the front table, where all the teachers were seated, he limpered towards Dumbledore, and a flash of lightning crossed the ceiling, illuminating the man's face, causing many to gasp in surprise.

It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening.

One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was much larger, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The second one was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye... And then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.

The man began talking inaudibly to Dumbledore, who nodded and gestured to an empty seat on his right side. The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" announced Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

Usually, students greeted with applause any new staff members. But, for some reason, nobody clapped. Ben wanted to do so, since he didn't want their new teacher to be offended, but everyone was silent, and he was embarrassed to be the only one to break the silence.

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

"Must be," answered Ron in a low, awed voice.

"Did something happen to him?" wondered Ben, tilting his head.

"Regarding his face?" asked the redhead.

Ben snorted, luckily in a hushed tone. "No, I meant this morning."

"Oh, I dunno."

"As I was saying," continued Dumbledore, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody. "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!" shouted Fred Weasley, incredibly loudly.

The tension in the Hall due to Moody's presence was shattered all of a sudden. Pretty much everyone, some teachers included, laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled in appreciation.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "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..."

He was interrupted by Professor McGonagall clearing her throat loudly.

"Er- but maybe this is not the time, no..." mumbled Dumbledore.

"Oh, but I wanted to hear it!"

"Maybe some other time, Mr. Walker," the headmaster chuclkled. "Well... 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."

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "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."

"I'm going for it!" Fred Weasley hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was very clearly not the only one interested in taking part of the competition; many people were whispering excitedly to their friends.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," Dumbledore went on. "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 of age- that is to say, seventeen years or older- will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This- "Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, since several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious. "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." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "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!"

Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.

"They can't do that!" shouted George Weasley, who had not joined the crowd moving toward the door, but was standing up and glaring at Dumbledore. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"

Ben had to agree with them on that one. It was quite unfair that they wouldn't be allowed to participate just for a couple of months.

"They're not stopping me from entering," stated Fred stubbornly, also scowling at the top table. "The champions'll get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"

"Yeah," agreed Ron, a faraway look on his face. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons..."

A/N: i'm sorry it took me so long to update!

question: what house do you think Alycia will be in? 

i hope you enjoyed :)