"Faye!" shouted Mother. "For heaven's sake Faye will you get down here? You're going to be late!"

"I'm coming Mother!" I shouted back.

I raced down the stairs and looked at my mother who had tears in her eyes. Her long, curly jet-black hair tied up courtly in a tight bun, she pulled me into a bone-crushing hug. I stared across the room to my dad, his wide smile brightening up the sitting-room. I noticed my sister sitting on one of the green armchairs, with her feet up on the table, hair a violent shade of purple. She was sipping her butterbear while laughing at me being smothered by mother.

"You'd swear she was going to Hogwarts as a first year," she stated.

"We're just worried that's all, Dora," said Father reassuringly. "You've read the prophet," he whispered, while walking up to her chair, leaning forward and placing his mouth to her ear. "The Dark Mark at the Quidditch World Cup, if that's not a warning, then what is?"

"Nymphie's right though, I'm not a baby, last time I checked, I'm fourteen!"

I call her Nymphie (Pronounced Niffie)because her name is Nymphadora, which she hates, and she gets everyone to call her Tonks, which I can't, Tonks being my second name too. Mum and Dad call her Dora, but I prefer to be different, although I call her Dora when talking about her.

"You're still a squirt if you ask me…" skitted Dora.

"Just because you're twenty-one and an auror doesn't mean you can skit everyone who's seven years younger than you!" I retaliated.

"Still a squirt…" she got up off her chair and walked up to me. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close. "They're right you know," she whispered. "You needto be careful, and watch your hair; it tends to go red when I tease you."

"Thanks," I whispered.

"We better be heading," called Dad. "We don't want you to be late for the first day of the year."

"We better not," said Mum, smiling. "Good luck."

She pulled me into another one of her bone-crushing hugs. She slid her fingers through my long, straight black hair. She murmured "It will be okay," and "No need to worry." I wanted to shout that it wasn't me who was worrying, it was bloody you and Dad! But I bit my tongue.

She finally released me and I stepped back into Dad's arms.

"Bye Faye!" cried Mum, drying her tiers.

"See ya Faye," chimed Dora.

"See you Nymphs, bye Mum!"

We apparated to King's Cross Station. It was ten to eleven and Dad pointed to his watch.

"We'll be on time! Geez, stop worrying!"

He placed his hand on my shoulder. "I'll stop worrying when you become properly punctual. And Faye, be careful. The Dark Mark is much, much more than a snake coming out of a skull's mouth, it's his mark, your mum doesn't want me to tell you this, but many of us think he's trying to come back, but he's not fully fledged yet you see, sending someone else out to do his bidding I expect. Promise me you'll be careful."

"I promise Dad," I said quietly.

"Now go on."

"Bye Dad."

He nodded as I ran towards the long brick wall. I began to run towards it with much determination. I pushed my trolley in front of me as my grey feathered owl began tweaking. I found myself on the other side, beside me was red and black train, the Hogwarts Express. I looked around me and saw young wizards and witches, some of whom I didn't recognise, but most I did. I walked onto the train and unloaded my luggage. I looked around for my friends, Rose and Sybil. I couldn't find them anywhere, until finally I came across their compartment.

"Hey Faye," said Rose. Her hair was even redder than the previous year. "How've you been?"

"Fine," I answered honestly. "Mum's been pretty jumped up bout this Dark Mark thing, Dora is pretty cool bout it though, although she's scared and Dad, well he's been a little off edge, and he's terrified about the prospect of You-Know-Who coming back, but he doesn't want to say it."

"We didn't ask for your whole life story, Faye," said Sybil laughing. "But yeah, my mum's worried as well, last time he was – er – powerful, he killed Dad, and she's afraid he'll want to finish off what he started when – I mean if – he comes back."

"I haven't told my parents," said Rose. "They're muggles, and there's no need to tell them either, they'll be scared out of their wits! They know about You-Know-Who, McGonagall told them, they didn't want be a witch when they found out about him, said it was too dangerous, then McGonagall told them that he was gone, and they calmed down, but if they hear he's coming back, they'll pull me out of Hogwarts and I'll never be allowed back in the Wizarding World again!"

"Did either of you go to the Quidditch World Cup?" I asked.

"Neither of us," said Sybil. "And lucky we didn't, did you hear what they did with the muggles?"

"Yeah," I said. "It was sick."

"Why did they do that though," said Rose. "I mean harm muggles. It was completely unnecessary! They were innocent! Did nothing wrong!"

"I know. I suppose it's their idea of 'fun'," said Sybil. "They may have used it as a warning though. That You-Know-Who is coming back, and that they were demonstrating their power."

"Terrible immature bastards!" shouted Rose. "Muggles aren't that bad! Most of them accept wizardry, but still, some of us taunt them! It's outrageous! It's the reason I want to be in the Ministry of Magic when I'm older, to stop these injustices, and encourage muggle and –"

"Ranting on again about your love of muggles are you, Richards?" said a boy with snowy white hair. His eyes were grey and his face pale and I recognised who he was immediately, Draco Malfoy. A Slytherin in my year who thinks he's all that because his family is rich and are pure-bloods, disgusting. It means they have no muggle ancestry. Behind him were two stocky boys named Crabbe and Goyle, his little puppets.

"Shut up Malfoy!" snapped Sybil.

"I thought a respectable pure-blood like you Fawley wouldn't be seen walking around with the likes of Tonks and that mudblood."

"How dare you!" I shouted.

"Hey Tonks," he sneered. "Backing up for mudbloods now are we? Just before I thought you couldn't get any lower."

"Piss off Malfoy," shouted Sybil.

"See you in school," and then he walked off to presumably torment some first years.

Rose was sobbing in the corner. It was a terrible thing to be called a mudblood. It was a word a bigot would call a muggle-born, a person with muggle parents. Rose was barely ever called one, and she was very insecure and shy towards people, so being bullied was the thing that really started her.

"Don't listen to him," I comforted. "He's an idiot. He thinks he's all that because he's a pure-blood, it's idiocy, you're ten times as good as him in school, and besides, your dad isn't under suspicion of being a death eater, while his is, so who's winning?"

Rose, for some reason, laughed. "You always know the right thing to say, Faye, thank you."

"No problem."

For the rest of the journey he talked about school, the professors and homework. Being friends with two bright Ravenclaws meant that books and school was the main thing we talked about. I didn't mind though, I had always wondered why I had been put into Gryffindor despite my love for learning and my brains, although not nearly as good as Sybil's, Rose's or Hermione Granger's, a girl with whom I shared a dormitory with and was on good terms with. I didn't possess any great courage or bravery, I have always been more into books and studying than being the hero.

"We're here," Sybil announced.

We got up and made our way out of the train, bumping into many students along the way.

When we got to the Great Hall, I noticed there was one seat empty. McGonagall hadn't yet entered, but I saw her before coming in, but there was another seat empty, the one that was last year filled by Professor Lupin. I walked over to the Gryffindor table and took a seat beside Parvati, an Indian girl also in my year. She and Lavender were chatting about the first divination lesson, I hated divination, but it was easy, so I continued it.

"Hey Faye," said Parvati kindly. "Are you doing Divination this year?"

"Yep," I answered. I knew they liked Divination, so I kept my mouth shut.

"Isn't it wonderful!" Lavender beamed. "Professor Trelawney is so accurate, isn't she?"

"The best," I joined in.

"Oh Lav, the Sorting Hat is going to sing," said Parvati, pointing up to the stool on which the Sorting Hat lay. It was very ugly and ragged, it was brown and had a slit for a mouth.

"A thousand years or more ago,

When I was newly sewn,

There lived four wizards of renown,

Whose names are still well known:

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,

Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,

Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,

Shrewd Slytherin, from fin.

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,

They hatched a daring plan

To educate young sorcerers

Thus Hogwarts School began.

Now each of these four founders

Formed their own house, for each

Did value different virtues

In the ones they had to teach.

By Gryffindor, the bravest were

Prized far beyond the rest;

For Ravenclaw, the cleverest

Would always be the best;

For Hufflepuff, hard workers were

Most worthy of admission;

And power-hungry Slytherin

Loved those of great ambition.

While still alive they did divide

Their favorites from the throng,

Yet how to pick the worthy ones

When they were dead and gone?

'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,

He whipped me off his head

The founders put some brains in me

So I could choose instead!

Now slip me snug about your ears,

I've never yet been wrong,

I'll have a look inside your mind

And tell where you belong!

The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished.

"That's not the song it sang when it Sorted us," said the boy sitting next to me, clapping along with everyone else. He had jet-black hair and emerald green eyes, it was Harry Potter.

"Sings a different one every year," said Ron, his best friend. "It's got to be a pretty boring life, hasn't it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up the next one."

The Sorting continued to sort the new first years into the respective houses.

"Creevey, Dennis!"

Tiny Dennis Creevey staggered forward, tripping over Hagrid's moleskin, just as Hagrid himself sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teachers' table. About twice as tall as a normal man, and at least three times as broad, Hagrid, with his long, wild, tangled black hair and beard, looked slightly alarming – a misleading impression, for Harry, Ron, Hermione and me knew Hagrid to possess a very kind nature. He winked at us as he sat down at the end of the staff table and watched Dennis Creevey putting on the Sorting Hat. The rip at the brim opened wide— -

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted.

Hagrid clapped along with the Gryffindors as Dennis Creevey, beaming widely, took off the hat, placed it back on the stool, and hurried over to join his brother.

"Colin, I fell in!" he said shrilly, throwing himself into an empty seat. "It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!"

"Cool!" said Colin, just as excitedly. "It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!"

"Wow!" said Dennis, as though nobody in their wildest dreams could hope for more than being thrown into a storm-tossed, fathoms-deep lake, and pushed out of it again by a giant sea monster.

"Dennis! Dennis! See that boy down there? The one with the black hair and glasses? See him? Know who he is, Dennis?"

Harry looked away, staring very hard at the Sorting Hat, now Sorting Emma Dobbs. I was laughing, yep another fan.

The Sorting continued; boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces moving one by one to the three-legged stool, the line dwindling slowly as Professor McGonagall passed the L's.

"Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, massaging his stomach.

"Now, Ron, the Sorting's much more important than food," said Nearly Headless Nick as "Madley, Laura!" became a Hufflepuff.

"Course it is, if you're dead," snapped Ron.

"I do hope this year's batch of Gryffindors are up to scratch," said Nearly Headless Nick, applauding as "McDonald, Natalie!" joined the Gryffindor table.

"We don't want to break our winning streak, do we?"

Gryffindor had won the Inter-House Championship for the last three years in a row.

"Pritchard, Graham!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Quirke, Orla!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

And finally, with "Whitby, Kevin!" ("HUFFLEPUFF!"), the Sorting ended. Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away. "About time," said Ron, seizing his knife and fork and looking expectantly at his golden plate.

Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome.

"I have only two words to say to you," he told them, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. "Tuck in."

"Hear, hear!" said Harry and Ron loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before our eyes.

"Aaah, 'at's be'er," said Ron, with his mouth full of mashed potato.

Parvati and Lavender exchanged a look of disgust at the Gryffindor before beginning to eat themselves.

"He's disgusting!" whispered Lavender after swallowing a bit of chicken. "He stuffs his mouth with way too much food and then begins to have a nice chat with his friends as if he hasn't realised his mouth is holding a bucket worth of food!"

I continued to eat my meal quietly while everyone else chatted about one thing or another. Hermione was glaring at Ron whenever he talked with his mouth full and Harry would back Ron up. I listened silently to their conversations, not really eavesdropping, I was just bored.

When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered," ("Hmph!" said Hermione) "I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What?" Harry gasped. He looked around at Fred and George, his fellow members of the Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak. Dumbhedore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -"

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Hermione gasped.

The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any I had ever seen. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening.

One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye - and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.

The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbhedore shook it, muttering words I couldn't hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students chapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him.

"Moody?" Harry muttered to us. "Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?"

"Must be," said Ron in a low, awed voice.

"What happened to him?" Hermione whispered. "What happened to his face?"

"Dunno," Ron whispered back, watching Moody with fascination.

Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it. As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and I saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" said Fred Weasley loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er - but maybe this is not the time… no…" said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament… well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely."

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Death toll?" Hermione whispered, looking alarmed. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another, and I myself was far more interested in hearing about the tournament than in worrying about deaths that had happened hundreds of years ago.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger."

"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" Fred Weasley hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, I could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbors. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration.

This" — Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious - "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen."

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.

"They can't do that!" said George Weasley, who had not joined the crowd moving toward the door, but was standing up and glaring at Dumbledore. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"

"They're not stopping me entering," said Fred stubbornly, also scowling at the top table. "The champions'll get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"

"Yeah," said Ron, a faraway look on his face. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons…"

"Come on," said Hermione, "we'll be the only ones left here if you don't move."

Harry, Ron and Hermione left for the entrance hall.

I left the hall with Lavender and Parvati, who were trying to remember the Divination sign for misery. I had absolutely no idea about what they were talking about, but I still joined in at parts, they weren't exactly my friends, but they were nice people when they shut up about Divination and girly things. I hung around with them when I couldn't hang around with Sybil and Rose, they knew though, that I wasn't too close with them, they didn't seem to mind, to be honest. Sybil and Rose were friends with Parvati's twin sister who was in Ravenclaw, he name was Padma Patil, she was more brainy than her sister, but I suppose there was courage beneath that Divination, girly-girl Parvati was shown to be.

As we walked into the Gryffindor common room, Parvati and Lavender went straight up to bed, while I went to sit down by the fire and read my book called: The Truth and Lies of a Vampire. I didn't know why I took an interest in it, it was all about vampires and their urges, it was surprisingly good, though. I found it in one of the bookshelves at home. I loved reading, it was a way to expand my knowledge.

"Hey," said a boy's voice.

"Hey," I replied, looking up from my book.

A boy and a girl joined him by the fire. They were Ron and Hermione, I gave them both a smile, but being my shy self, that was all I could manage.

"Oh – um – Harry, Ron, this is Faye Tonks," Hermione introduced. "And Faye this is Harry Potter and Ron Weasley."

"Haven't I seen you before?" said Ron.

"We're in the same year, I do believe," I replied, I bit offended, I will admit. I was in his class for three years and he hadn't bothered to learn my name. I was shocked at the way my shyness drifted away for long enough to let me get a tad bit angry. I calmed myself down and smiled at them again.

"Oh, yeah – um – hi," said Ron, looking red. "Are you by any chance related to Nymphadora Tonks, the auror?"

"Yeah, she's my sister."

"Wicked! Can you do that thing with your hair that she can?" he asked, beaming.

"If you mean change my hair colour at will then I can do that."

"Wow! Can you show us?"

"Alright."

I decided on the colour red, I felt that being surrounded by so much red, I should contribute. I was never sure if I did it, whenever I did it at will, there was a fifty-fifty chance that I'd get it wrong.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were looking at me with their mouths wide open.

"How did you -?" said Hermione in confusement.

"It's an ability I was born with," I said while turning my hair colour back to its regular shade of black. "I'm a metamorphmagus."

"A what?" said Harry.

"It's a person who's born with the ability to change their appearance at will or by the will of their emotions. It's incredibly rare, it's genetic but can also just randomly be gifted to wizards who have metamorphmagus parent."

"Neither of my parents are metamorphmagi, just me and my sister."

I yawned and stretched out my arms.

"I better be getting to bed. I'll leave you three to whatever you planned to discuss."

I smiled and went up to my dormitory. I saw Parvati and Lavender already asleep in their beds. I went into the bathroom and brought my pyjamas and a towel with me. I took off my clothes and stepped into the shower. I washed my hair and body before getting out and drying up. I got dressed and used a drying spell for my hair. I entered back into the girl's dormitory and looked over at Hermione's empty bed, she still hadn't gotten up. I got into bed and slid under the covers before quickly falling asleep.

I was back home.

I edited it because I didn't want Faye and Malfoy to be cousins. I want Malfoy to fancy Faye, and I don't think it's right if they're cousins. So Narcissa wasn't a Black, and Bellatrix is Andromeda's sister. Narcissa and Bellatrix are not sisters, but really good friends. This is quite important, it will be announced later why. Hope you like the story J