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Blair's eyes fluttered open, and a smile grew on her face. It was finally the day that they would go back to Hogwarts. It turned out it was just a minor injury, but it was a dark spell so she was supervised at all times by Molly, Ginny and to Blair's delight, Hermione, but she got tired of it as she wasn't allowed to play Quidditch, and she wasn't allowed to go anywhere without one of the three girls, courtesy of her mother's howler.

The boys teased her big time for it, but Blair just rolled her eyes at them as they themselves knew that Blair was extremely happy that her love was taking care of her. Though she was happy that Hermione was paying attention to her, Blair just couldn't wait to finally go back to Hogwarts and play Quidditch again. Even when it was her birthday yesterday, they still didn't let her play. It even took her days to convince Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to assure her parents that they didn't have to go and meet her at Platform 9 and ¾.

Now that they were in front of the Hogwarts Express, Mrs. Weasley fussed over her. "Got everything ready? Are you alright? Oh, dear. I-"

Blair cut her off as she gave her a quick hug. "Mrs. Weasley. I'll be fine. I think this will be a quiet year, you know?"

Mrs. Weasley gave her a stern look. "Nothing's ever quiet with you lot. Alright then, stay out of- be careful, Blair."

"I will, Mrs. Weasley. See you!" Blair waved goodbye to her and went to a compartment with Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"Anything from the trolley?" The trolley lady called out. 

Ron stood up. "Packet of drewbals and a licorice wand." Ron paused for a moment. "On second thought, just the drewbals."

"It's alright. I'll get it." Blair said. She stood up, and Harry followed her.

Suddenly, Cho Chang came up and walked to the trolley. "Two Pumpkin Pasties, please." Cho sent a smile at Harry, who blushed, before smiling shyly at Blair, who waved at her.

"Hey Cho. Had a good summer?"

"Y-Yes, Blair. How about you?"

Blair just smiled and ran a hand through her hair. "It was an amazing one. Tell you what, I'll tell you about it next practice. Harry can come with us too."

Cho's face brightened up. "Sure. See you, Blair, Harry. Thank you!"

When Cho left, the trolley lady looked over at them. "Anything from the trolley, dears?"

"Oh, no thank you. I'm not hungry." Harry went in first with a goofy smile.

Blair smiled at the trolley lady. "3 licorice wands, a pumpkin pasty and 2 chocolate frogs please. Thank you."

Blair went in and handed them all sweets. Hermione suddenly noticed Harry rubbing his head. "It's hurting again, isn't it? Your scar."

"It's not." Harry said defensively.

Blair rested a hand on his shoulder. "You should tell Uncle Snuffles about it. He'll want to know what happened."

Harry hesitated before nodding and writing his letter. It was quite odd his dream. It seemed that Voldemort wanted someone, no. Not just someone. Harry himself and a weapon. He called the weapon his fallback, his refuge, but Harry didn't know what it was and why it was needed, but one thing was for sure. He'd do his best to find the weapon.

Blair suddenly stood up. Hermione raised an eyebrow at her. "Where are you going?"

Everyone looked surprised at Hermione's sudden interest. Blair looked at her confused. "I'm going to look for Nev, Shay and Dean."

Hermione let out a scoff before she stood up as well. Blair looked at her wide-eyed and froze in her spot. Hermione glared at her. "Well?"

"Why are you coming?" Blair asked with curiosity in her tone.

"W-Well-" Hermione stuttered before stabling her voice. "I just want to make sure you won't go somewhere else."

Blair just nodded and stepped out of the compartment with a huge smile on her face. Harry and Ron exchanged knowing smiles when they heard Hermione mutter under her breath. "Don't want Cho Chang coming up to you now, do we?" Maybe, Blair really did have a chance with Hermione.

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Blair sat down beside Hermione and Neville, and she was surprised to hear whispers and see stares at her. Hermione tried to look calm, but deep down inside, she was feeling angry at how they looked at her friend as if she was a piece of meat. Sure, it was a fact that Blair really did grow over the summer, but that didn't give them any right to stare at her. Only-

Hermione shook her head at her thoughts. Blair was only her friend, and it was not like she was truly in love with Hermione. It was just a game with her.

Blair ignored the stares and looked at the teacher's table. "Don't we have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher?"

"Maybe they couldn't get anyone!" Hermione anxiously said. 

Suddenly, Professor McGonagall came in with the long line of first years. She set the hat on the stool, and Mr. Hat as Blair called it opened his mouth to sing.

A thousand years or more ago,

When I was newly sewn,

There lived four wizards of renown,

Whose names are still well known:

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,

Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,

Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,

Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,

They hatched a daring plan

To educate young sorcerers

Thus Hogwarts School began.

Now each of these four founders

Formed their own house, for each

Did value different virtues

In the ones they had to teach.

By Gryffindor, the bravest were

Prized far beyond the rest;

For Ravenclaw, the cleverest

Would always be the best;

For Hufflepuff, hard workers were

Most worthy of admission;

And power-hungry Slytherin

Loved those of great ambition.

While still alive they did divide

Their favorites from the throng,

Yet how to pick the worthy ones

When they were dead and gone?

'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,

He whipped me off his head

The founders put some brains in me

So I could choose instead!

Now slip me snug about your ears,

I've never yet been wrong,

I'll have a look inside your mind

And tell where you belong!

"That wasn't the song it sung when it sorted us." Harry said and clapped along with everyone.

"Sings a different one every year," said Ron. "It's got to be a pretty boring life, hasn't it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up the next one."

"It's kinda cool, isn't it? I want to be a Sorting Hat in my next life. Broaden your minds." Blair commented with a lopsided grin. Everyone laughed at her imitation of Professor Trelawney.

The Sorting then started. After a long while, it finished with Whitby being sorted into Hufflepuff. Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome. 

"I have only two words to say to you," he told them, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. "Tuck in."

"Hear hear!" Harry, Blair and Ron shouted out as they filled their plates, but seeing Hermione's disgusted face, Blair didn't fill her plate as much as Harry and Ron did.

Blair was listening to Nearly Headless Nick's conversation when Hermione knocked over her goblet. "There are house-elves here?"

Nearly Headless Nick looked surprised at her reaction. "Certainly. The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred."

"I've never seen one!" said Hermione.

"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they?" said 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?"

Hermione stared at him. "But they get paid?" she said. "They get holidays, don't they? And — and sick leave, and pensions, and everything?"

Nearly Headless Nick chortled so much that his ruff slipped and his head flopped off, dangling on the inch or so of ghostly skin and muscle that still attached it to his neck. "Sick leave and pensions?" he said, pushing his head back onto his shoulders and securing it once more with his ruff. "House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions!"

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 Blair with bits of Yorkshire pudding. "Oops — sorry, 'Lair —" He swallowed. "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!"

"Slave labor," said Hermione, breathing hard through her nose. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labor." And she refused to eat another bite.

Blair, though she was hungry, did the same. "Yeah, this is slave labor." Harry, Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean snickered at Blair's actions as Hermione sent her a grateful smile.

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered," A scoff came from Hermione as Dumbledore continued. "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." The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. Fred, George and Blair exchanged smirks. Mr. Filch didn't know what they had in store.

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."

"WHAT?" Blair got on her feet. 

She looked at her fellow members in her Quidditch team and saw them looking as appalled as she was. Hermione pulled her down to sit, but Blair was still in shock about what happened.

Suddenly, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open. A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger.

A smile made its way onto Blair's face. "Mr. Alastor!"

Harry looked at her in confusion. "You know him?"

"He's the one who trained me. Bloody hell, I didn't think this was his special mission." Blair grinned as Moody's normal eye met hers and winked.

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

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students clapped except for Blair, Dumbledore and Hagrid, who all put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody apart from Blair who was smiling widely at 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!" said Fred loudly. The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke.

Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively. "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..."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly. 

"Er — but maybe this is not the time... no..." said Dumbledore, "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."

"Death toll?" Hermione whispered, looking alarmed before her gaze turned to Harry and Blair worriedly. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another, but Blair was far more interested in the way Hermione's eyes drifted towards her for a moment.

A smile grew on Blair's face as she stared at Hermione. The way her hair hair flipped when she looked towards Blair, those brown wavy curls that smelled like roses. The way her eyebrows furrowed out of worry maybe for her or for Harry or the both of them.

Suddenly, Hermione felt her stare and looked behind her to see Blair smiling at her. Hermione's cheeks flushed as she turned back to Dumbledore.

"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 hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, Blair could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbors.

But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more. "Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "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, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious — "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 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!" said George, 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?"

"They're not stopping me entering," said 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!"

Blair nudged the twins. "I'll try and see what I can do, you two." Fred and George's face immediately lit up as they started complimenting and thanking her.

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

"Come on," said Hermione, "we'll be the only ones left here if you don't move." Harry, Blair, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George set off for the entrance hall, Blair, Fred and George debating the ways in which Dumbledore might stop those who were under seventeen from entering the tournament.

"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" said Harry.

"Dunno," Blair said, "but it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Aging Potion might do it, Fred, George."

"Dumbledore knows you're not of age, though," Ron said.

"Yeah, but he's not the one who decides who the champion is, is he?" said Fred shrewdly.

"Sounds to me like once this judge knows who wants to enter, he'll choose the best from each school and never mind how old they are. Dumbledore's trying to stop us giving our names." George crossed his arms.

"People have died, though!" said Hermione in a worried voice as they walked through a door concealed behind a tapestry and started up another, narrower staircase.

"Yeah," said Fred airily, "but that was years ago, wasn't it? Anyway, where's the fun without a bit of risk? Hey, Ron, what if we find out how to get 'round Dumbledore? Fancy entering? Blair's up to it."

Blair smiled sheepishly at the disapproving look on Hermione's face.

"What d'you reckon?" Ron asked Harry. "Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older... Dunno if we've learned enough..."

"I definitely haven't," came Neville's gloomy voice from behind Fred and George. "I expect my gran'd want me to try, though. She's always going on about how I should be upholding the family honor. I'll just have to — oops..." Neville's foot had sunk right through a step halfway up the staircase.

"Oh dear, Nev." Blair seized him under the armpits and pulled him out, while a suit of armor at the top of the stairs creaked and clanked, laughing wheezily.

"Shut it, you," Ron said, banging down its visor as they passed. 

They made their way up to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, which was concealed behind a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress. "Password?" she said as they approached.

"Balderdash," said George, "a prefect downstairs told me." The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall through which they all climbed. A crackling fire warmed the circular common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables.

Hermione cast the merrily dancing flames a dark look, and Blair distinctly heard her mutter "Slave labor," before bidding them good night and disappearing through the doorway to the girls' dormitory.

Blair had an idea as she turned to Neville. "Gramen, can you come with me? There's something I want to do." 

"Let's go, Caelum."

Blair and Neville went out through the portrait and talked about their summers. Blair refrained from talking about the Quidditch World Cup because she knew that Neville would get upset since his grandmother didn't allow him to go.

Neville suddenly smirked at her. "Hey, Caelum. I see you and Hermione are getting closer. Care to tell me anything?"

Blair smiled widely as she started rambling. "Oh, Gramen. You won't believe it, but-"

Blair rambled and rambled on even as they finally arrived at the portrait of fruits. Stopping her ramblings, Blair tickled the pear and went in to see the house elves.

"Miss Blair!" Dobby appeared in front of her.

Blair smiled widely as she saw him. "Dobby! Meet Neville Longbottom. Neville, meet Dobby."

Neville crouched down and held out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Dobby."

"Oh, Dobby is pleasured, sir. How was your summer, Miss Blair?"

Neville let out a groan. "Oh, brother."

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20 minutes led to an hour in the kitchen because Blair recounted her whole summer minus the Quidditch World Cup to Dobby.

As they arrived at the Fat Lady's portrait, Blair stifled her yawn and held onto the tray she held. "Balderdash."

Neville let out a yawn. "Merlin, Blair. Do you think she's still awake?"

"Probably, Nev. Girls always stay up late during the first night. I'll bring this up and come later, alright?"

"Night, Blair." Neville kissed the top of her head before they separated.

Blair slowly walked up the stairs and heard her roommates' giggles, and she took a deep breath before knocking on the door and opening it. "Hey guys."

Lavender, Parvati and Fay shared glances before blushing and giggling once more. 

"Hi Blair." 

"Had a great summer?"

Blair made some small talk with them before walking over to Hermione, who went silent at Blair's entrance.

Blair smiled shyly as she held out the tray. "Hey there. I know you haven't eaten so here."

Hermione's eyes widened when she took the tray and took off the cover to see food. There was spaghetti, a treacle tart and some pumpkin juice. The other three in the room sent Hermione some teasing glances. 

Hermione playfully glared at them before smiling at Blair with flushed cheeks. "Thank you, Blair."

Blair ruffled her hair and smirked. "It's no problem, Granger. Now, will you go out with me?"

Lavender, Parvati and Fay squealed. Hermione went even redder and scoffed. "Never, Wood. Never."

Blair pouted, and Hermione had the sudden urge to kiss that pout away but crossed her arms. "Thank you for the food, Blair, but it's still a no."

Blair just sighed before smiling again. "It's no problem, Mione. I'll get going now. Good night to you all."

Lavender, Parvati and Fay all bid her goodnight, and Blair turned to Hermione hopefully. Hermione let out a sigh and smiled at her. "Good night, Blair. Have a good night's sleep."

Blair's face lit up as if she won the Quidditch cup. As Blair stumbled out of the room, Hermione couldn't fight the grin on her face as she ate her food.

Blair ran to the boys' room and slammed the door open. "Harry, Ron, Gramen, Tranqs, Ignis! You can't believe what just happened." The five boys groaned in unison as Blair started her story.

Dean whispered to them. "Did you learn the spell?"

Seamus nodded. "It's Silencio. Harry, you do it."

Harry nodded and took out his wand and pointed it at the unsuspecting Blair. "Silencio."

And Blair's voice became muted as the five boys sighed in relief and cozied up in their beds and bid each other good night. They were all tired, and they'd probably listen to Blair's story again tomorrow. The girl was too invested in her story about Hermione Granger that she went on till 2 in the morning without noticing that they were all asleep.

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