I hope our story has a happier ending

put your hands into the fire

When the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students arrive soon after, it's like nothing that's happened at Hogwarts in recent memory.

Their entrances are clearly rehearsed, orderly spectacles with just a hint of their magical prowess.

At one point George mentions that a girl from Beauxbatons looks familiar, but the moment is forgotten when Viktor Krum walks in near the back of the Durmstrang procession, sending nearly half the student body into chaos.

While Harry is quietly awed, the four Weasleys at the table are all fully freaking out, hissing and in some cases shrieking (Fred), united for what feels like the first time in ages.

Ron comments that he seems serious, almost aloof, "probably because he knows we don't deserve to be in his presence, which, who could blame him?"

But Harry says quietly that he seems more overwhelmed than anything.

(it's familiar, the way he walks so carefully, eyes jumping around the room to take everything in but not interacting, in the hopes of not causing any waves.)

It's a week or two before the champions will actually be selected, so by the time the day arrives the anticipation has built up like crazy—there's homework to do, but no one can focus, they're all just trying to find ways to distract themselves till it's time for dinner and the Goblet's activity.

Ron and Dean are in the midst of their third game of Wizard's chess, while Harry and Hermione are sprawled on the common room floor with a veritable mountain of blankets as Harry shows Hermione all the photos and mementos he's collected over the last few months.

"This one's from my parents' wedding day," he says, holding a yellowed scrap of parchment out to her. "Uncle Pads says my dad was hyperventilating while they were getting ready, he was so sure Mum would change her mind, so Pads sent her this, and Dad would only go to the altar once she'd written back."

One side reads, "Prongs is being stupid and thinks you'll change your mind. Please correct him before I'm forced to handcuff him to the minister so he doesn't run away."

On the other, Lily's messy scrawl says, "Of course I want to marry you, idiot. Get your ass to the altar or I'll name the baby after Severus."

"Remus said she'd just told Dad she was pregnant with me two days before, so it was a real threat," Harry says with a grimace. "He and Alice Longbottom had to talk her out of her plan to hex him as soon as she got to the altar."

"Your parents sound so wonderful, Harry," Hermione smiles wistfully. "I'm glad we get to hear about them, now."

"Me too." He hums as he goes through the pile of papers and photos and miscellaneous objects Sirius and Remus bestowed upon him throughout the summer, the letters Andromeda and his grandmother had exchanged for so many years when she was in need of a maternal figure.

"Oh! You remember I told you about my Aunt Andy's daughter Tonks? This is her." He shows a photo of him laughing with an ice cream cone in hand, a spot of the confection on his nose, next to a young woman with bright pink hair and smiling eyes. "You'll love her, Mia—she's an auror, so very badass and smart, but she's also really goofy, and doesn't let the world get to her."

"I didn't realize she was so young—she must be just a few years older than us." Hermione feels her hopes rise, just the smallest bit; she hasn't had an older female friend in...well, ever.

(It would be nice, to have someone to talk to—someone who might understand what her head is like, who's been in their shoes and is on the other side.)

"Yeah, she gives Sirius shit about being an old man all the time. It's great." Harry grins. "And she doesn't like to read as much as you, per say, but she knows a ton about magic—potions, charms, all of it, so you'll have loads to talk about. I was thinking—if you wanted to come for Christmas, maybe? You could stay all of break—I've already asked Aunt Andy, she said she'd love to have you, and there's plenty of room. I know it's really far in advance, but I know you normally stay here over the holiday, and—"