On September 1st, they packed their trunks into the car early in the day and drove into London. They wanted to be earlier than usual so they could have a nice, casual brunch near King's Cross right before boarding the train. When they finished, they gave their goodbye hugs before crossing the barrier into Platform 9¾.
Inside, they were expecting to see a crowd of red hair somewhere on the platform. They searched around for several minutes until they heard a familiar, commanding voice come from behind them. "Come on, boys. Fred, George, if I hear about a single one of your 'candies' at Hogwarts, you can bet you'll be hearing from me! Ron, stop dallying already, we're nearly about to miss the train! Ginny, do be a dear and hold on to Pig, will you?" They turned around to see Molly Weasley was ushering the family onto the platform.
"Hi, everyone!" Both of them greeted the Weasleys cheerfully, glad to see none of them were hurt in the World Cup attack. Ron, finally noticing Harry, rushed up to him.
"Harry, mate! You won't believe what happened at the game! I don't know if you heard, but..." Harry and Hermione braced themselves for the news of the attack. "...Krum caught the snitch, but they still lost! Ireland's chasers were amazing!"
Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George all gaped at him. "Only our ickle Ronnikins..." began George.
"...could talk about the game..." continued Fred.
"even after a Death Eater attack," the twins finished together.
"Well, it's not like anybody got hurt," Ron grumbled. "We didn't even see any of them. People screamed and we were already two steps away from the emergency Portkey station."
"We thought Harry might be a little more interested in a story that he couldn't just read off of the Daily Prophet," said George.
"What are you two talking about? The attack was reported in the paper, wasn't it?" asked Ron, somewhat unsure as he never did read the newspaper voluntarily.
"Ah, but not a first-hand tale..."
"...of fear, horror..."
"...excitement, bravery..."
"...and a death-defying escape from a Death Eater attack!" they cried with a flourish.
"I just said that nothing like that happened!" Ron was clearly getting riled by the twins' antics.
"That's why we called it a story, Ron," said George, rolling his eyes.
"Little Ronnie here never had an appreciation for the finer arts," Fred whispered loudly. Harry and Hermione, who had a very good idea of what happened, laughed as they all boarded the train.
The discussion about the World Cup went on for a while into the train ride, where Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville shared a cabin. Ron showed off a little Viktor Krum figurine he bought as a souvenir. Neville warned him to keep it hidden from Seamus, who was as fanatic about the Irish national team as Ron was about the Chudley Cannons. They were interrupted by their cabin door opening with Draco Malfoy standing at the entrance. Predictably, he sneered at them, saying, "Well, isn't that cute. That's the closest you'll ever come to meeting your idol, Weasley."
"Oh yeah? It's not as if you're ever going to meet him either, Malfoy," Ron shot back.
"Hah! I met him at the World Cup before the game. My father knows the manager and he introduced us to the entire team." Malfoy was obviously enjoying lording this little event over Ron's head. "Well, when he's over here this year, he certainly won't be sitting with the Gryffindors. The Durmstrang school has a much more selective policy for accepting students."
Harry and Hermione looked at each other, knowing what Malfoy was hinting at. There would be some sort of tournament this year... oddly enough, neither one could remember the name of it now, although they were sure they had come across those memories at some point during their Occlumency exercises. Harry decided to goad some more information out of the little Slytherin, hoping it would help jog his memory. "And why would he be visiting Hogwarts, Malfoy?" he asked in the most polite tone he could muster.
Draco scoffed, "Well, obviously a half-breed like you wouldn't know. This is a noble and traditional event that's being revived this year." Harry sighed internally. How long was Malfoy going to drag this out?
"Well, that's why we're asking you, Malfoy," said Harry through gritted teeth.
Draco lifted his nose a bit higher and leered at them. He was obviously enjoying the fact that he (finally) had something to lord over them. "It's the Triwizard Tournament, of course," he said, as if it were common knowledge. "But the likes of you need not apply. Only the worthy are allowed to compete."
The Triwizard Tournament. The name struck a chord in Harry... it was definitely familiar. He'd been there- multiple times, in fact. Oh nuts, he thought, I'll be competing in it whether I want to or not. I'm sure I must have tried not to participate in one of my past lives. Another unclear memory, or emotion, popped up. Cedric! That's why I was worried about him. Try as he might, he still couldn't recall exactly what was going on, but once again, the ideas of portkeys, victory, Cedric, and danger felt intertwined. Did he have to stop Cedric from winning? Hopefully, he'd be able to figure it out in due course. For now, he'd received all the information he really needed from Malfoy, and didn't want to spend another minute with the spoiled, blonde brat. He replied dismissively, "...and somehow you think you're worthy, Malfoy?"
Draco huffed at the implied insult. "You think you could do better than me, Potter? You wouldn't even be able..."
Hermione cut him off. "No, you arrogant brat, he's saying that there's no chance in hell that you'll ever be picked when you're up against any of the seventh-years in this school. You're just a fourth year, and not even top in the class."
Draco, obviously agitated, fell back to his usual insults. "I didn't ask you, mudblood! When I'm entered in the competition, my father will know..."
Hermione knew he was going to say something like that. She laughed, saying, "Unless this Triwizard Tournament is a letter-writing competition, Malfoy, you have no chance of winning." The rest of the cabin laughed with her, as Draco stormed off. Ron shut and locked the door behind him.
"That was brilliant, Hermione. I almost wish he did get picked for the competition, just so we could watch him fail," said Ron.
Neville nodded in agreement. "Well, we really don't have anything to worry about. There's really no point in us entering, to be honest. It'll probably only be the sixth seventh years who are strong enough to do it, and even then only the ones at the top of their year would have a chance."
They quickly fell into a discussion over who were likely candidates from Hogwarts. While Ron and Neville were talking, Harry whispered to Hermione, "Did you have trouble remembering until Malfoy mentioned the tournament, too?"
"Yes... it seems like the information we got out of the original beacon is getting less and less clear. I mean, I remember us talking about those memories our first trip around. You mentioned it by name, even. Harry, do you remember anything about the upcoming year?"
"Something... at the end of the year, I think. We talked about it when we went to Hogsmeade together, I remember that. Voldemort came back, I'm sure of it."
"It's the same thing for me! I remember us discussing those memories after we activated the beacon, but now I can barely remember what those memories were. How about fifth year?"
Harry shook his head. "I still remember something them. Nothing specific, though. It feels more like an hour after waking up and trying to remember the dream. I know I had it, but I can't remember for the life of me. Do you know why?"
"I'm guessing it has to do with the new beacon. The present memory 'dominates,' so it's easier to remember the immediate past, but I think it might be overwriting the memories that were sent back with the original beacon. How many times have we used the new beacon so far?"
"Twice, right? Once with the World Cup, and another time testing the emergency runes..."
"And the new beacon actually counts and keeps track of how many times we've used it. I think we went back three times with the first beacon, right? I'm forgetting huge chunks of things I'm pretty sure I remembered when we talked about it in Hogsmeade. The only things I remember for sure are the ones I went back packed in occlumency capsules," she replied.
Neville, apparently, overheard something. "Did you mention occlumency? You're learning it? My Gran said something about it helping me get over my nervousness, but continued in the same breath that I wouldn't have the talent for it."
Harry looked at Hermione, who gave him a "finish it later in private" look, and then nodded to Neville. "Yeah, it's something we decided to practice over the summer. You know, it'll help you in Snape's classes. I think the reason why he always knows exactly what to do to scare you is because he's using legilimency."
Neville gaped. "What? How do you know? How often does he do it?"
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