Harry and Amelia Potter

4.7

I decide to go for a walk to the owlery, just to get everything off my mind. But then I hear someone calling my name from behind me.

"Mia! Wait up!" I turn and see Harry approaching me.

"Oh, hello Harry." I say with a sigh.

"Look, I'm sorry I thought you put our names in the cup. It was in the heat of the moment. We had just fought with Ron and then I was scared and confused from the champion selection ceremony. I'm sorry." He goes on and on.

"Honestly, Harry. It's fine." I tell him. "Besides, the first trial is due to start soon and we need to stick together." I smile at him. "Though I never thought you put our names in."

"You didn't?"

"Of course not. You'd have to be extraordinarily bright to figure out how to do it." I laugh and he nudged me playfully, smirking as well.

"Ha. Ha. Very funny."

"Where are you headed?" I ask.

"I sent an owl to Sirius a while back. You know, telling him about our dream. I was going to check the owlery to see if he's replied."

"I'll come with."

An owl flies in with a letter for Harry, he takes it and begins to read.

"Harry. I couldn't risk sending Hedwig. It was since the world cup and the ministry's been intercepting more and more owls and she's too recognizable. We need to talk Harry. Face to face. With Mia. Meet me in the Griffindore common room at one o clock this Saturday night and make sure your both alone. P.S...." The owl nips Harry's finger. "The bird bites."

Harry screams out in pain and I laugh.

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At midnight, Harry and I meet in the common room. We're by ourselves, but there's no sign of Sirius.

"Sirius?" Harry looks around. I pick up a newspaper. The headline reads 'The Champions are Selected.'

Harry and Amelia Potter, aged twelve, suspect entrants in the triwizard tournament. Their eyes swimming with the ghosts of their pasts...

I through the newspaper in to the dimly lit fire. The fire flares up a bit, as a face appears in it.

"Sirius?! How..."

"I don't have much time, children, so let me get straight to it. Did you or did you not put your names in the goblet of Fire?"

"No!" We exclaim.

"Shhh... I had to ask. Now tell me about this dream. You mentioned Wormtail and Voldemort, but who was the third man in the room?"

"We don't know." Harry tells him.

"Neither of you heard a name?"

"No. Umm... voldemort was giving him a job to do. Something important." I inform him.

"What was that?"

"He wanted us."

"We don't know why, but he was going to use this man to get to us." Harry adds.

"I mean it was only a dream right?" I question.

"Yes. It's just a dream. Look Harry, Mia, the death eaters showing up at the World Cup, your names coming out of the goblet of Fire. They're not coincidences. Hogwarts isn't safe anymore."

"What do you mean?" Harry asks. Before Sirius replies, I answer him.

"He's saying the devils are inside the walls." I inform my brother. "Igor Karkaroff was a deatheater, and no one stops being a deatheater. And Barty Crouch..." I pause. "Heart of Stone, he sent his own son to Azkaban for being one."

"Do you think one of them put our names in the goblet of Fire?" Harry asks Sirius.

I haven't a clue who put your names in the goblet, but whoever did is no friend to you. People die in this tournament."

"We're not ready for this, Sirius." I say to him, slightly terrified.

"You both don't have a choice."

Then we hear a door close upstairs. "Someone's coming!"

"Keep your friends close, Harry and Mia. They're the only ones you can trust!" And then Siruus's face disappears just as Ron comes down.

"Who are you two talking to?" He asks us.

"Who says we were talking to anyone?" Harry asks him.

"I heard voices."

"Maybe you're imagining things, wouldn't be the first time." I mutter to him.

"You're both probably just practicing for your next interview I expect." He rolls his eyes and walks back upstairs.

"And he use to be one of our best friends." I whisper to Harry. "And he's talking to us like that."

"I hope he gets over whatever is going on with him. Because Sirius is right." Harry tells me. "We need to keep our friends close."

I nod and look down at the newspaper again. The new headline reads 'Teenage Tragedies.'