AN: I was formerly known as ynmidk and am now slowly re-uploading old fics on this account. If you are curious about my old account and the rest of my fics, there is a short explanation on my profile page.

"Lavender Brown."

The Great Hall hushed into stunned silence at that name.

They expected to hear someone else's, Harry was sure. He knew he did.

The blonde's giggles from before – he could hear them clearly since she was seated just a bit farther down to his left – had stopped completely. It was odd to not hear Lavender's laughs and giggles in the background in a location like this. It wasn't like he was paying particular attention to the blonde, not by any means. Now in his fourth Hogwarts year, she had simply become this kind of ambient noise in certain locations, and it would be noticed immediately if it wasn't there. The closest thing he could compare it to would be the sound of the TV when Vernon would be home after work. It simply was there – that noise, those sounds. Like Lavender's laughs and giggles when they were in class, in the Great Hall or in their common room. Part of the ambience.

But now, she looked shell-shocked.

"Th-that's not – I'm not-"

Harry could relate. And understand.

Maybe not exactly understand because he didn't, really. It simply made no sense for the violently shaking blonde's name to appear out of the goblet. His name would because he was Harry Potter and these kinds of things seemed to be coming his way, whether he wanted them to or not.

"Miss Brown, please," Dumbledore's voice echoed through the Hall.

"But I didn't! I-I didn't!"

Despite her protests, she got up and walked on shaky legs to the room behind the staff table. Her arms were wrapped around her midriff as if she were hugging herself or shielding herself from the stares. Usually, she enjoyed the attention, but Harry knew that this kind of scrutinizing attention was anything but enjoyable. She looked pitifully alone right now.

"Bloody hell...what just happened?" Ron asked the question everyone was wondering.

"I don't know...and I'm sure Lavender doesn't either. She looked terrified," Hermione muttered, and Harry silently agreed.

There was no way that Lavender had anything to do with what just transpired. "I don't think it was supposed to be her name in the goblet," Harry finally voiced his thoughts.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked him, but Hermione understood immediately.

"You think that was supposed to be your name?"

"Yeah." Harry nodded with a grim look. "Nothing else makes sense. Just think about the last three years? Now a fourth champion here? How does Lavender even fit in there?"

His friends looked thoughtful, neither of them able to come up with an answer. He didn't expect them to. He still wasn't sure if his theory was right. It felt uncomfortably self-centred, but it was the only thing that made sense in any shape or form.

The Headmaster then dismissed the students. There were immediate hushed whispers and discussions going on, and Harry was not the topic for probably the first time. It should be him, though. He couldn't even find it in himself to feel relieved for not being the one everyone would be talking about. It felt wrong to be freed of such scrutiny at the cost of some innocent bystander being thrown into it.

After leaving the Great Hall, he turned to his friends. "Go on ahead. I want to talk to Lavender."

"What for?" Ron asked in confusion, but Hermione just huffed at the redhead after smiling at Harry.

He chuckled as he watched Hermione drag a half-heartedly protesting Ron up the stairs and towards the Fat Lady's portrait.

Lavender stepped into the antechamber, her stomach twisting painfully into a bundle of nerves. Upon entering, she saw the three champions in their separate corners of the room – Fleur Delacour sitting elegantly on the sofa with one leg crossed over the other, Viktor Krum standing with crossed arms by the fireplace and scowling at empty space, and Cedric Diggory inspecting a bookshelf with feigned interest.

"Wat eez deez leetel girl doing 'ere?" the French Veela asked haughtily, and that was almost enough to snap Lavender out of her stupor.

However, the voices of the people responsible for this mess were getting louder, and moments later Dumbledore, McGonagall, Crouch Sr, Bagman, Snape, and Moody were standing in the antechamber.

Bagman made a grand spectacle of her being the fourth champion and how unbelievable and splendid it was. She neither wanted nor needed this stupid tournament.

She was ready to knee Bagman in the bollocks for his grand announcement of her predicament. However, when her Headmaster finally spoke to her, she could have wept in relief.

"Miss Brown, have you put your name in the goblet?" Professor Dumbledore asked gently, seemingly not angry with her at all.

"N-no, Professor."

"Of course shee eez lying," the French giantess of a woman threw in with a roll of her eyes.

"I'm not lying!" Lavender insisted, her voice rising in octaves she hadn't thought possible. "I swear! Professor McGonagall!" She turned to her Head of House, her chin wobbling and tears threatening to fall. She was on the verge of sobbing hysterically.

"I believe Miss Brown," the Transfiguration Professor stated immediately, making Lavender slump in relief. "The worst thing she has done so far was to partake in the Hogwarts rumour mill–"

Excuse you, Professor, but the rumour mill is Hogwarts's greatest asset.

"–Pulling a stunt like this is simply too out of character. Look at this poor girl! She is beyond terrified."

Lavender nodded animatedly – truer words had never been spoken after all.

"It doesn't matter," Durmstrang's Headmaster said dismissively, not even so much as glancing in her direction. "Dis is a second champion vor Hogwarts! Is dis your sense ov sportsmanship, Albus?"

"Just remove my name! I don't want to die! I don't want to be a champion!" Lavender begged desperately. It shouldn't be that hard, right?

"Not possible," Crouch Sr stated confidently. "You must play your part in the tournament or forfeit your magic."

"How can deez girl last long eenaff to matter?"

Lavender whipped around to glare at the haughty French girl who was looking down at her – even from her sitting position! – with pure arrogance. Who did she think she was? "Listen here, you–" Her anger at the Veela's words evaporated quickly once Crouch Sr's words actually started to register. "Oh." So this was how she was going to die. Not as an old lady in her sleep surrounded by her children and grandchildren, no. She was going to die because someone put her name in the Goblet of Fire for it to be dragged as a champion for a magical bloodsport.

They kept on talking while her mind was still trying to grasp her predicament. She couldn't really comprehend her situation yet and barely caught Bagman say that there'd be no hint for the first task.

"Miss Brown!"

She was startled out of her daze by her Head of House.

"Head up to the common room, child." McGonagall gently pushed her towards the door. "Perhaps send your parents a letter. I will too once I have spoken with the Headmaster."

Lavender stepped out of the antechamber, still half in a daze. She hadn't even realized the meeting had been over.

He leaned against a pillar outside of the Great Hall's entrance and waited, wondering what was going on in that room, what was being said, and how Lavender was doing.

He didn't know her, really. All he had were Hermione's offhanded comments about the goings-on in her dorm room, and they rarely were kind. It may have skewed his opinion a bit on the other Gryffindor girls from his year.

He wasn't sure how much time had actually passed, when he heard small hasty steps coming towards him, accompanied by sniffles, and he was sure that it had to be Lavender.

Sure enough, the blonde came into sight a moment later.

"Hey," he began and obviously startled her if the slight jump and surprised gasp escaping her were any indicators.

"Sorry," he added sheepishly.

What he did not expect as a follow-up-reaction was her suddenly throwing her arms around him and starting to cry.

He stiffened immediately and had no idea what to do, so he just opted to awkwardly sort-of hug her back, patting her back in a 'there, there' kind-of-way.

The crying took way too long in his opinion, but finally, it subsided and the blonde retracted herself from him.

"Thanks, Harry," she said, her voice a bit rough around the edges after breaking down on his shoulder. "I needed that."

"You are welcome," he replied while scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "Look, can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Honestly, I'd rather just curl up in bed right now," she said after taking a shuddering breath and wrapping her arms around herself once more.

"I know, but this is important. It won't take that long, I promise. We can walk up to the tower together."

"Fine then."

They began their walk in silence before Harry finally spoke up after their first flight of stairs. "Your name wasn't supposed to come out of the goblet."

Lavender gave him a deadpan look. "You think?"

"No, I mean...look." He sighed, stopping in the middle of the second flight of stairs. "Remember everything that happened in the past three years? I don't want to sound self-centred, but everything revolved around me in some way. Serial killers, Chamber of Secrets…"

"And?"

"Now your name comes out of the goblet and it just doesn't make sense to me. You are never involved in any of those things, but suddenly, without a reason…"

"Wait...you think...you think it was you who was supposed to be the fourth champion and I'm just – it was a mistake?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"You do realize how that sounds, right?" Lavender asked with a hand on her hip.

"I know," Harry said with a serious expression. "I could be wrong, but I don't think so. I'm almost never wrong when it comes to these kinds of things. Anyways." Harry continued to walk up, prompting Lavender to follow him. "Did they say if you have to compete?"

The blonde's face fell at that question and she looked on the verge of tears again. "I have to or I'll lose my magic! I don't want to be a squib!"

"That's kind of bollocks…" Harry said with a sigh, running a hand through his messy black hair. "I'll help you any way I can," he then stated firmly.

"Really?" Lavender looked at him with a raised, delicate brow. "No offence, but what could you do? You are in the same year I am, in case you forgot."

"I know a couple of charms which could help you. I'd like to think I'm also fairly decent at DADA and Transfigurations. I'm sure Hermione would help to research anything you might need to know." He stopped again before giving her another serious look. "I honestly believe that your name came up by mistake. I'm certain that it should have been me. So, I'll help in any way I can to get you through this alive. I promise."

She hugged him again, more fiercely this me. "Thank you so, so much! It really means a lot to me!"

"Don't worry about it," Harry croaked out uncomfortably, again stiff as a board at this unfamiliar physical affection. Lavender really seemed to be that touchy-feely type, and he wasn't sure if he could handle that.

"Would you come up to the owlery with me? I don't want to be alone right now and I need to write to my parents."

"Sure," Harry said with a shrug, realizing that this was by far the most he had ever spent time with Lavender, let alone talk.

"I'm really terrified," Lavender admitted after they were climbing even more stairs.

"I would be too," Harry said.

"But you are the Boy-Who-Lived. I'd think this would be kind of your thing, you know?"

He snorted at that. "I wish it weren't. I could very well do without nearly dying every year."

"You should be happy then." Lavender's lower lip started to tremble. "I'll probably die without ever having a boyfriend…"

Harry gave her a disbelieving look before shaking his head. "I'm sure you'll make it." Better to just ignore her...priorities.

"And I definitely am not happy. I'd rather they not mess up when targeting me instead of dragging someone innocent into danger."

"You really believe you were the actual target, huh?"

Harry scoffed. "Comes with always being a target."

She gave him a sideways glance. "I should be angry at you, you know, but I actually feel bad for you. All that stress will give you bad skin and premature wrinkles."

"You have no idea," Harry said dryly.

They finally reached the owlery and Lavender made a beeline for the offered parchments, ink, and quills for students. "Cast a lumos for me, Harry, will you?"

He did as asked, leaning silently against the wall while listening to the scratching of the quill on parchment. He wondered what Lavender would be saying to her parents. Would she tell them about her fears? Would she tell them about his suspicions? If so, how would they react? He hoped he wouldn't get a howler the following day.

Once Lavender was finished with her letter, she made sure to dry the ink with a quick spell before rolling and tying it up. They then walked to the owls and Lavender looked for one to use – something that made Harry curious.

"Don't you have your own owl?"

"No, we have a family owl we usually use for letters. If I need something short term I just use a school owl to send my parents a letter."

"I could lend you Hedwig if you want. She's strong and fast and I doubt you want your parents to find out through the Prophet tomorrow," Harry offered with a shrug.

"Could I? Thank you!" She gave him her letter, and he walked up to his beloved owl.

"Can you make it to Lavender's parents before the newspaper owls arrive?" he asked his snowy owl, only to receive an indignant look from her in return. "Yeah, I should know better than asking you such silly questions, right?" He chuckled as he held his arm out for her to climb on before releasing her for her journey.

"I so love your owl! She's so pretty!" Lavender gushed.

"Thanks," Harry muttered in return, not sure what else to say.

They left the owlery and walked to the Gryffindor tower, mostly in silence now.

He never realized how he kind of missed out on his other Gryffindor year mates. Just talking like this with Lavender was like getting to know a stranger, and they were supposed to be learning magic together for three years now, starting their fourth. Maybe it came with the isolation of being Harry Potter and suffering near-death-experiences every year.

"What are you thinking?" Lavender asked, giving him a curious look.

"Nothing."

"Can I ask you something?"

He glanced at her sideways before shrugging. "Sure."

"What happened in second year?" she asked eagerly.

Harry sighed, half in annoyance and half in resignation. "I don't want to really tell because Ginny's involved too."

"Okay. Is the Chamber of Secrets real then?"

"Yes," Harry answered.

"There was supposed to be a monster or something, right?" Lavender pressed on.

"A basilisk. It was pretty big too."

"I don't think I could do any of those things."

Harry chuckled at that. "I'm pretty sure you could. I was lucky most of the time anyway."

"Ah, so you are the modest hero type," Lavender said while giving him a curious look. "Do you think it's weird that we've talked more now than in the past years since we started at Hogwarts?"

Harry smiled. "I've actually been thinking the same thing."

They'd almost reached the Fat Lady's portrait, so Harry stopped and turned to look at the blonde. "So, how do you want to do this? Do you even know what your first task is going to be?"

"No, they didn't say anything." Lavender bit her lower lip nervously. "I'm absolutely terrified and I really, really don't want to do this whole tournament thing. I don't know what to do at all."

"I'll talk with Hermione. She'd be more than willing to help. I'll also send a letter to a...friend and ask them for advice. They're bound to know things that could help."

"Oooh, secrets!" Lavender grinned. "Who's that friend?"

"No one important," Harry said with a dismissive wave of his hand, ignoring Lavender's unimpressed look. "Ready to go in?"

"Not really, no." Lavender looked resigned at the prospect of entering the common room as the fourth Triwizard champion.

He couldn't blame her, not in the slightest. If he was in her position – and he couldn't believe he was saying that, but he wished he was – he wouldn't want to go in there either.

There was little they could do, though.

"Come on," he said and took the lead, climbing through the hole into their common room after giving the Fat Lady the password.

There was still a party going on, and Lavender was immediately pulled away by her friends, but she still managed to give him a wave goodbye. Harry searched for Ron and Hermione and, once he found them, made his way there, accepting the butterbeer Seamus pressed into his hands.

"Where were you mate?" Ron asked immediately, making room for Harry to sit on.

"Talked with Lavender and then she asked me to go up to the owlery with her. She wanted to tell her parents what was going on before they'd find out through the Prophet," Harry answered before taking a sip from his butterbeer.

Hermione winced a bit. "I don't think they'll take it well. From what I could gather, her parents are really protective of her."

"Yeah, well, I also promised her we'd help," he said with a shrug.

Ron gave Harry a look as if he had grown a second head. "Why'd you do that for?"

"Because...I don't know, she's not even supposed to be in that tournament," Harry insisted. "She's supposed to be Lavender. She's supposed to believe in Trelawny's rubbish and gossip with Parvati, not this. It was supposed to be me in her place."

"You really believe that, mate?" Ron asked. "You really believe someone had it out for you and Lavender's just an accident?"

"Yeah. Nothing else makes sense. I'm always in the centre of things like this. You two know that better than anybody else. Lavender's just...it's ridiculous."

Ron shrugged before he let out a laugh. "Can't believe someone was dumb enough to confuse Potter with Brown. Or Harry with Lavender." He then looked at his empty bottle and got up. "Going go grab me another one of those. You want another too, Hermione?"

"No, thanks." She smiled at him. "So...anything else?"

Harry looked at her in confusion for a moment. He then shrugged. "Dunno,

I just told her we'd help and that you'd help with researching with things. I also told her I'd send a letter to Snuffles soon, to ask for advice. He's bound to know things."

"Anything else?" She gave him an expectant look.

"No…?" Harry was really confused now. "I mean, she cried a bit – which I

think is normal since she's bloody scared – and we chatted a bit. Nothing else."

"Sure. Anyway, I'll go chat with Lavender in the dorm-room now and I'll see what I can find out in the library tomorrow. Good night, Harry."

"Night." Still confused, he watched Hermione's retreating form, shaking his head. "I don't get girls."

"You and me both, mate," Ron said after plopping down on the sofa next to him. "You and me both."