~Bella's POV~
We're sitting in the assembly hall as the older students are entering their names in the Goblet. The Cullens have all entered but I'm not worried because being what they are, if any of them are picked, they can ace this Tournament.
"Eternal glory. Be brilliant, wouldn't it?" Ryan asks.
"Two years from now, when we're old enough to be chosen," Ron says.
"Yeah, rather you than me," Harry says.
We hear cheering as the twins run through the door, holding vials in the air.
We cheer them, knowing what's in the vials.
"Well, we've done it," Fred says.
"Cooked it up just this morning," George says.
"It's not going to work," I grin.
They appear either side of me and I turn to Fred.
"Oh, yeah?" he says.
"And why's that Swan?" George asks.
"You see this," I point. "This is an Age Line. Dumbledore drew it himself."
"So?"
"So a genius like Dumbledore couldn't possibly be fooled by a dodge as pathetically dim-witted as an Aging Potion."
"But that's why it's so brilliant," George says.
"Because it's so pathetically dim-witted," Fred says.
They stand and take the potion before stepping over the line. Everyone cheers.
They place their names in the fire and everyone cheers again.
Suddenly the fire flares out and makes the twins fly backwards where they land on the ground and their hair goes grey.
"You said!" Fred says.
"You said," George says before they start scrapping and everyone eggs them on until Krum comes in.
As he puts his name in, he looks at Hermione and they smile at each other before he leaves.
Later that night, we're back in the assembly hall with the whole school and all our guests.
"Sit down. Please," Dumbledore asks so we all take our seats. "Now the moment you've all been waiting for: The champion selection."
He moves his arm round the room, distinguishing the lights before going over to the Goblet and placing his hand on it. The fire turns red, throws out a piece of parchment which Dumbledore catches, and then turns blue again.
"The Durmstrang champion is Viktor Krum."
We all clap as Krum goes up and shakes Dumbledore's hand.
The process repeats and Dumbledore catches the second piece of parchment.
"The champion for Beauxbatons is... Fleur Delacour."
We all clap again as she goes up and shakes Dumbledore's hand.
"The Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory."
More clapping and cheering as Cedric goes up.
"Excellent!" Dumbledore continues. "We now have our three champions. But in the end, only one will go down in history. Only one will hoist this chalice of champions..."
Crouch Senior brings something to the podium covered in a blanket.
"This vessel of victory..." Dumbledore continues. "The Triwizard Cup."
He turns and points, making the blanket fly off, revealing the most beautiful blue cup I've ever seen.
We all clap and cheer but then I notice Snape staring at something so I turn to the Goblet. The flames are acting strange so we all look as Dumbledore returns to it.
It turns red and two pieces of parchment fly out before the flame turns blue again and settles down.
"Oh no," Edward whispers so I look at him.
"What's wrong?" I whisper but he doesn't answer.
Dumbledore catches the two parchments and turns to us.
"Harry Potter and Isabella Swan?"
I look at Edward.
"I thought you said the Age Line couldn't be cheated," I whisper.
"I don't know how he did it."
"Harry and Bella," Dumbledore shouts.
"Go on, you two," Hermione urges.
The two of us get to our feet and walk up to the headmaster.
He holds out the two parchments and we both take them as we begin to walk toward the door.
The other students begin whispering.
"They're cheaters," somebody shouts.
"They're not even 17 yet!"
"They didn't put their names in the cups," Edward shouts as he stands. "Somebody else did. They knew nothing about this."
"Sit down Mr Cullen," Dumbledore orders.
We leave the room and join the other champions in the other room. A few seconds later, the teachers and Dumbledore come in.
"It's wrong, I tell you," Maxime says.
"You French tart," Karkaroff says. "Everything is a conspiracy theory!"
"Quiet! I can't think!" Dumbledore says.
"Everything is a conspiracy theory!" Karkaroff repeats.
"I protest," Maxime says.
"Harry! Hollie" Dumbledore says as he charges at us and pushes us back.
"I protest," Maxime says again.
"Did you put your names in the Goblet of Fire?" Dumbledore asks with detest."
"No, sir," we say together.
"Did you ask one of the older students to do it for you?"
"No, sir!" I say.
"You're absolutely sure?"
"Yes. Yes, sir!"
"But of course he is lying," Maxime insists.
"The hell he is," Crouch Junior says, still disguised as Moody. "The Goblet of Fire is an exceptionally powerful magical object. Only an exceptionally powerful Confundus Charm could've hoodwinked it. Magic way beyond the talents of a fourth year."
"You seem to have given this a fair bit of thought, Mad-Eye," Karkaroff says.
"It was once my job to think as dark wizards do, Karkaroff... perhaps you remember."
"This doesn't help, Alastor," Dumbledore says as he approaches Crouch Senior.
"Leave this to you, Barty."
"The rules are absolute. The Goblet of Fire constitutes a binding magical contract," Crouch Senior says. "Mr Potter and Miss Swan have no choice. They are, as of tonight, Triwizard champions."
They all turn to us in shock.
~Harry's POV~
I'm sitting at the window, watching the rain while Ron potters around behind me.
"How did you do it?"
I turn my head quickly.
"Never mind. Doesn't matter. Might've let your best friend know, though."
"Let you know what?"
"You know bloody well what."
"I didn't ask for this to happen, Ron. Okay? You're being stupid."
"Yeah, that's me. Ron Weasley, Harry Potter's stupid friend."
"I didn't put my name in that cup, B... someone else did. I don't want eternal glory. I just wanna be..."
I sigh.
"Look, I don't know what happened tonight and I don't know why. It just did. Okay?"
Ron turns over, not believing it so I huff before climbing into bed.
"Piss off," Ron says in a delayed comeback.
I take my glasses off and lay down, wondering how this happened when Edward said it couldn't.
The next day, the five of us gather in the room off to the side of the hall where a woman is waiting for us with a cameraman.
She positions us before her cameraman takes a photo.
"What a charismatic quintet," she says. "Hello."
She approaches and holds out her hand.
"I'm Rita Skeeter."
We all shake her hand.
"I write for The Daily Prophet. But of course you know that, don't you? It's you we don't know. You're the juicy news. What quirks lurk beneath those rosy cheeks?"
She strokes Fleur's cheek.
"What mysteries do the muscles mask?"
She ruffles Cedric's hair.
"Does courage lie beneath those curls?"
She puts her arms round me and Cedric.
"In short, what makes a champion tick? Me, myself and I want to know. Not to mention my rabid readers. So who's feeling up to sharing?"
She looks at each of us.
"Shall we start with the youngest? Lovely."
She grabs me and pulls me towards a door and we enter a broom closet.
"This is cosy."
"It's a broom cupboard."
"You should feel right at home, then."
She leads me down some steps.
"Don't mind if I use a Quick-Quotes Quill, do you?"
"Um, uh, no."
I sit down and she sits opposite me.
"So tell me, Harry. Here you sit, a mere boy of 12..."
"I'm 15. Sorry."
"About to compete against four students... not only vastly more emotionally mature than yourself but who have mastered spells that you wouldn't attempt in your dizziest daydreams. Concerned?"
"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it," I say with confusion as I watch the quill writing on its own, trying to read what its writing.
"Just ignore the quill. Then, of course, you're no ordinary boy of 12, are you?"
"Fifteen."
"Your story's legend. Do you think it was the trauma of your past that made you so keen to enter such a dangerous tournament?"
"No, I didn't enter."
"Of course you didn't."
She winks at me.
"Everyone loves a rebel, Harry."
She sniggers before turning to the quill.
"Scratch that last."
The quill crosses out what it just wrote.
"Speaking of your parents, were they alive, how do you think they'd feel? Proud? Or concerned that your attitude shows, at best, a pathological need for attention... at worst, a psychotic death wish?"
I see what the quill is writing.
"Hey, my eyes aren't 'glistening with the ghosts of my past.'"
"Moving on... how did you feel when you found out you and your sister, Bella is it, weren't the only children your parents had?"
"Hollie; and what has this got to do with the tournament?"
"Was it finding out your whole life was a lie that turned you into a rebel?"
"I think this interview is over," I say before I leave.
"How did it go?" Bella asks.
"She's really nosy and judgemental, be careful in there."
I leave the room.
~Bella's POV~
Rita comes out and points at me before leading me into the broom closet where we both sit down and I notice a Quick-Quote Quill hovering over a notepad.
"So, Isabella, tell me, despite being raised like part of the family with your aunt and uncle, and being given everything you asked for, what made you rebel and enter your name is this ever so dangerous tournament?"
"I wasn't raised by my aunt and uncle, that was Hollie," I correct her. "And I didn't enter my name, somebody else did."
"A liar and a rebel, interesting."
I stay silent. It's already clear she's made her own assumptions and nothing I say will change that.
"How did you cope with the sudden loss of your parents?"
"I don't remember them."
"Pity!"
"So tell me about your love life, you have been around for someone as young as yourself. How many were there?"
She takes the notebook and flicks through it.
"Ah yes, Jacob Black, no relation to Sirius Black I'm told; Edward Cullen, strange boy who acts like he's from a different time; Brandon Margera, the rebound boy and Cedric Diggory, the fellow, and need I say, more handsome champion."
"Excuse me. There has only been one, and only ever will be."
"Yes, Edward Cullen. He did not start Hogwarts until his sixth year. Why was that?"
"He was home-schooled."
"Interesting. So, are you seeing anyone other than Edward? Someone like Cedric Diggory?"
"No," I say offensively. "I'm not the sort of girl to have two boyfriends."
"Well, what about Brandon Margera?"
"What about him?"
"You two became close when Edward abandoned you. What made you choose to take Cullen back after what he put you through when Brandon held you together?"
"I think you've asked enough questions about my love life, and not enough about the tournament. I shall leave. Cedric is just a friend, and hardly even that."
I stand and head for the stairs.
"What about your brother Harry?"
I stop and turn to her.
"You and he were raised by separate couples, right?"
"Yes? What of it?"
I don't like her smile.
"It is almost like you aren't really brother and sister. You are more like strangers who made friends here at the school."
"Yes, what are you insinuating?"
"Could it be possible that you have developed romantic feelings for him? He is an attractive boy."
"You are sick, truly twisted."
I head up the stairs, almost tasting the vomit in my mouth.
"Isabella, what of your older sister, do you know of her whereabouts?"
I stop and go back to her before giving her a hard slap round the face.
"Emberlee is nothing to do with you, and even if I knew where she was, there is no way in hell I would tell a gossip mongering, word twisting, opinionated little bitch like you."
I walk out without another word.
~Emberlee's POV~
I'm lying in bed, asleep when I am woken by Reba coming in the window with a letter and a parcel.
"Thank you Harry," I say to myself before I read the letter.
My eyes almost pop out of my head when I read it and strangely, I believe every word of it.
I know I have no choice, I have to leave so I unwrap the cloak and struggle to get out of bed with my huge belly but I manage it and put the cloak over me before heading down the stairs, passing Olive as she dusts the hallway. She looks right at me but I continue as she doesn't say anything.
I hobble along the long path and keep going until I reach a safe distance where I sit down, exhausted, with the cloak still over me.
I look at my watch and realise Aunt Narcissa will be home soon but I can't go back there and I don't know where to go.
I put my head down and begin to weep until I hear a horn so I look up and see a purple triple decker bus pull up and a young conductor is standing at the door.
"Stan Shunpike, at your service. Let's get you to safety."
He holds out his hand but I just stare at it with confusion as I remain under the cloak.
"I haven't got all day Miss Potter."
I stand and climb onto the bus.
"I'd take a seat if I were you."
I sit down, still under the cloak and the bus suddenly speeds away.
"You can take off that cloak now."
I do so and just stare at him.
"How did you...?"
"Know you were there? I'm the conductor on the Knight bus, I can see past any magic disguise."
"Where are we going?"
"To your safe house. Just sit back and enjoy the ride."
It only seems like a few minutes before we stop and I look out the window to see a row of house.
"Where are we?"
Before Stan answers, Uncle Sirius appears at the door of the bus.
"Uncle Sirius," I smile.
"Welcome home, Ember," she smiles.
He takes my hand and leads me off the bus before turning back.
"Thank you Stan!"
"No problem."
The bus speeds away and we stand outside one of the houses.
"Aren't we going in?"
"In a moment, my dear."
He stamps his foot three times and the houses begin to shake.
"What did you do? Won't the Muggles see this?"
He just smiles at me so I watch in confusion as two of the houses move away from each other and inwards without the Muggles even reacting. After a few minutes, another house appears and I look at Uncle Sirius.
"Impressive isn't it?"
"Amazing!"
He leads me inside.
"Won't I be found here?"
"No, this is safer than Azkaban prison."
He leads me upstairs to a bedroom which is already set up with all my personal belongings.
"Get some rest, nobody will find you here."
"Thank you Uncle Sirius."
He smiles before he leaves the room, closing the door behind him.
It's been nine weeks since I arrived here at the Black house and I've been writing to Draco, and my siblings but I don't hear back from my love. I don't believe the letters are being intercepted because Uncle Sirius makes sure they are sent to three different places by three different owls before they are sent to Hogwarts so my whereabouts is not discovered.
I am laying in bed, now as big as a house, and I'm drifting in and out of sleep because I just can't get comfortable.
I feel a wet patch and believe I've wet myself until I feel a sharp pain in my back.
"UNCLE SIRIUS," I scream and he comes to the door with Mrs Weasley and Nymphadora. "The babies are coming."
"Okay, my dear," Mrs Weasley assures me as she comes over and takes my hand before turning to the door. "I need warm water and towels, and get me some blankets and cribs."
Nymphadora and Uncle Sirius leave the room while Mrs Weasley preps me for birth. By the time they return, I am exposed so Mrs Weasley pushes Uncle Sirius out of the room, taking the blankets and towels while Nymphadora puts the warm water on the table.
"It hurts!"
"Tonks, you help her while I deliver the babies."
Nymphadora, known by most as Tonks, takes my hand and dabs my face with a cold compress as I breathe through the pains.
"Is it supposed to hurt this much?" I cry.
"It'll be easier once the first baby is out," Mrs Weasley assures me. "Trust me, I had twins. The third baby will likely shoot out."
"Be ready to catch it then," I manage to joke; laughing through the pain which is the worst pain I have ever endured.
"Okay Emberlee," Mrs Weasley says after the next contraction. "I can see the head of the first baby which is good. With my Fred, he was feet first and that was the worst labor I'd ever experienced."
"I think I need to push."
"You are ready; you push that baby out, my dear."
On the next contraction, I push and the pain gets worse before I feel the head being born. It's the weirdest feeling ever.
"That's the first one's head out," Mrs Weasley said.
Nymphadora looks down.
"It looks like you; I think it's a girl."
The next contraction comes quickly and I push.
"It is a girl," Mrs Weasley says before she wraps her up, opens the door and hands my daughter to somebody before closing the door and coming back to me.
She's right, even though the pain of the contractions is still really painful, giving birth to the next baby is easier.
"It's a boy," Mrs Weasley says before wrapping him up and handing him to somebody in the hallway.
"Typical," she says when she returns. "Trust the last one to be breech. This may not be as easy as I thought."
She's right, it's worse than the first two but I manage and with the help of her and Nymphadora, I manage to deliver my third baby.
"It's another boy," Mrs Weasley says before she hands the third and final baby to someone in the hallway. "Well done," she smiles, coming back over to me. "Let's just get you cleaned up and then you can see your babies."
Another pain rips through me and both women look at me before Mrs Weasley examines me.
"Well I'll be damned," she says. "Emberlee, it appears there's another one."
I'm in too much pain to say anything and the room begins spinning.
"Is there supposed to be that much blood?" Nymphadora asks.
"No!"
I feel woozy and must have passed out because when I come to, Uncle Sirius is sitting beside my bed and I feel weak and drowsy.
"What happened?"
"You started haemorrhaging with the fourth, hidden baby but we managed to stop the bleeding and you'll have to stay in bed for a few more days."
"Is the fourth baby okay?"
"I'm afraid you lost it a few weeks ago and you were lucky it didn't cause problems for the other three."
"Where is it?"
"We already buried it; it wasn't something we felt you should have seen. I'm sorry."
"That's okay, I guess," I weep. "How can I be upset about something I didn't even know existed?"
It is little upsetting but I believe they did the right thing for me.
"Are the other three okay? Are they safe?"
"They're right there," he says as he points.
I turn to see three cradles across the room.
"Can you bring them to me?"
He stands and picks up one baby at a time before handing them to me. Holding three tiny babies isn't easy but staring at their innocent little faces, all with blonde hair and blue eyes like their parents, something occurs to me.
"I want to apologise to Harry, Hollie and Bella. How could I have ever thought that three innocent babies could be the cause of all my problems? Everything that's happened to me is all Voldemort's fault and the triplets need to know that."
"There's plenty of time for that, you need to rest now."
"I know what I want to name them."
He smiles at me with anticipation.
"This one is Remus James," I say, looking at the boy on my left. "The other is Draco Sirius; and the little girl is Tiger Lily."
"I'm honoured that you want to name one of your son's after me. And I know Remus and your parents will be as proud of you as I am. Now get some rest."
He takes all three babies, one at a time and puts them back into the cribs before I close my eyes and fall asleep.
~Hollie's POV~
I'm on the rooftop with Bella, Edward and Harry when a black owl flies in with a letter in its beak so Harry takes it and opens it.
"'Harry, with what's going on, 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 easily recognised. We need to talk Harry. Face to face. Meet me in the Gryffindor common room at one o clock this Saturday night and make sure only those who are aware of the Cullens are present. Sirius,'" Harry reads aloud.
"Wait," Bella says. "Sirius knows about you?" as she looks at Edward.
"Yes, this isn't the first time we've been to Hogwarts."
"Not the second either by the sounds of it," I say.
"No, we were here in Tom Riddle's time, again when your parents were here and now."
"So Dumbledore knows about you?" Harry asks.
"He is suspicious, as is Snape but they don't know for sure. Same with Peter. Only James, Lily, Remus and Sirius know the truth about what we are. Or knew in your parents' case."
"So were you friends with them? Bella asks.
"Yes, I was even in love with your mother but she only had eyes for James."
"What? You were in love with our mother?" Bella asks. "Is that the only reason you fell in love with me – because I look like her?"
"Of course not, you've only just started looking like your mother; I fell in love with you years ago."
"You know, I don't know if I find that disturbing or romantic."
"Listen, you are not Lily, and that's what I love about you."
She just stares at him with mixed expressions.
"Listen, Edward, I'm gonna need to think about what you just told me."
"I understand."
By Saturday, Bella and Edward are sorted so the four of us head to the common room.
"Sirius?" Harry calls in a whisper.
As we walk further into the room, Harry picks up a newspaper where he and Bella have made front page.
"What does it say?" Bella asks.
"'Harry and Isabella Potter, age 12, suspect entrants in the Triwizard Tournament. Both their eyes swimming with the ghosts of their past...'"
He screws it up angrily and throws it in the fire.
"Seriously, what a bitch," I say. "She couldn't get your name or age right and 'eyes swimming with the ghosts of their past' what a crock."
The fire hisses so we all look at it as Sirius' face appears.
"Sirius. How...?"
"I don't have much time, so let me get straight to it. Did you or did you not put your name into the Goblet of Fire?"
"No! It was Barty Crouch Junior. He's here, disguised as Moody."
He looks at Edward who nods.
"I had to ask. Now, tell me about this dream of yours. You mentioned Wormtail and Voldemort. But who was the third man in the room?"
"Barty Crouch Junior according to Edward," Bella says, looking at her boyfriend then back at the fireplace.
"And the picture Emberlee sent," Harry says.
"Speaking of Emberlee, she's here and she's safe. The babies are on their way as we speak which is why I don't have much time."
Me and my siblings look at each other before returning our gazes to the fireplace.
"Look children, the Death Eaters at the World Cup, your names rising from the Goblet, there are not just coincidences. Hogwarts isn't safe anymore."
"What are you saying?" Harry asks.
"I'm saying the devils are inside the walls. Igor Karkaroff, he was a Death Eater. And no one, no one stops being a Death Eater. Then there's Barty Crouch, heart of stone, sent his OWN son to Azkaban. And you say Crouch Junior is disguised as Moody?"
I nod my head before there's a bang behind us so we all turn briefly before turning back to the fireplace.
"Trust no one new to Hogwarts this year," Sirius says. "People die in this tournament."
"I'm not ready for this Sirius," Harry says.
"You don't have a choice."
We hear footsteps and I see a shadow outside the room.
"Ron's coming," Edward says.
"Keep your friends close, Harry."
"Who are you lot talking to?"
"Just each other," Bella says.
"Leaving me out of your little secrets as usual."
He slumps back up the stairs.