Hermione's Shock

That night, Oleandra tossed and turned in her bed, unable to fall asleep. Counting sheep had failed her, so she just lay there on her side, watching her dormmates' chests slowly rise and fall as they slept soundly, and thinking about her chances of being selected as champion. She hadn't tampered with the Goblet itself, so now it was all up to fate.

At some point, Oleandra managed to fall half asleep, imagining herself being selected by the Goblet and winning the Triwizard Tournament. In this state, her perception of time twisted and soon enough, it was Saturday morning.

Well, if it was going to be impossible to sleep in, then she might as well go to the Entrance Hall and watch her competitors for the champion spot toss their figurative hats into the ring. Tracey seemed to have had the same idea, so she and Oleandra tiptoed out of the room to avoid waking her Daphne and they retraced Oleandra's journey from earlier in the day up the Grand Staircase.

When they arrived in the Entrance Hall, they found it was full of people, some of which were munching on toast they had got from the Great Hall for breakfast. There was also a small gang of angry-looking Durmstrang students.

"Not going to try your luck?" asked Tracey, as they watched the other teenagers roughhouse and goad each other into crossing the Age Line.

"Already did," replied Oleandra. "We went— oof!"

Someone had just run into her from behind, knocking her to the ground; in retrospect, it probably hadn't been the smartest idea to stop to have a conversation right in front of a closed door.

"Why don't you watch where you're going!" Oleandra snarled.

"My bad, Oleandra," said the boy, who was holding a French baguette for some reason, as he extended a hand to help her get up. "I suppose I might have been a little overexcited at the chance to examine such a rare and powerful artefact in action…"

"Theo?"

Oleandra knew this baguette-toting boy; his name was Theodore Nott. His family was also part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, just like hers was, and he was one of Draco's friends. Draco would search him out whenever he tired of hanging around his yes-men and wanted to have an actual conversation, instead of talking at Crabbe and Goyle. Incidentally, Oleandra had also danced with him a while back at a Christmas party.

Theo's father was a genius Alchemist. Even though he was not on the level of old monsters like Nicholas Flamel or the headmaster of Mahoutokoro, he did very well for himself, despite rumours that he had been a Death Eater once upon a time. Evidently, his son had inherited his passion for Alchemy and magical item crafting.

"Well, you're in luck," said Oleandra, as she took Theodore's hand and rose to her feet. "It just happens that I… whoops."

"Yes?" asked Theodore with a quizzical expression on his face.

Oleandra might have forgotten to remove her chalk markings that reversed the Age Line's effects; and as far as she knew, Ginny hadn't recast the Repulsion Charm. That might explain the angry Durmstrang students on the sidelines who were all seventeen, or maybe even older.

"You can let go of Oleandra's hand, now," Tracey warned Theodore, giving him an angry glare.

"Er—" said Oleandra nervously. "Just one moment."

Until she erased her chalk marks, the Age Line would prevent anyone seventeen and up from passing it, and only allow those younger than seventeen. Oleandra circled around the Age Line, searching for the extra chalk lines on the floor.

"It's not going to work, you know," said a familiar voice behind her in a sing-song tone.

"Hello, Hermione," Oleandra greeted her. "Hey, Harry, Ron."

But before she could explain that she had already beaten the Age Line, Oleandra saw, over the Gryffindor Trio's shoulders, Fred and George Weasley, as well as their friend Lee Jordan, run down the stairs.

"We've done it!" Fred exclaimed triumphantly. "Finished it just in time!"

"Done what?" said Ron.

"Brewed the Ageing Potion, dung for brains," said Fred.

"Here," said George, thrusting a small phial in Oleandra's hands. "A token of our gratitude."

"Just one drop," cautioned Fred. "Wouldn't want you to turn into an old lady, yeah?"

"You're giving it to her?" said Ron, aghast. "What about me? I'm your brother?"

"Shall we?" said George.

"Bottoms up!" added Fred.

And before Oleandra could stop them, they took a small swig of their Ageing Potion.

"As I just told Oleandra," said Hermione warningly. "It's not going to work; I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this."

But Fred, George and Jordan weren't listening to her.

"Ready?" said Fred excitedly. "C'mon, then— I'll go first—"

Having said those words, he pulled a slip of parchment out of his pocket, which presumably bore his name as well as the word 'Hogwarts,' and walked over to the edge of the Age Line. Oleandra shook her head in amusement; now that he had taken his Ageing Potion, the Age Line would surely expel him, as he was no longer young enough to fulfil its reversed requirements!

But to Oleandra's surprise, not only was Fred allowed to cross the line, it didn't it throw him out either! Had she broken it? Seeing as their potion had done its job, George jumped in after his brother, and together, they strode triumphantly to the Goblet of Fire and deposited their slips in the blue flames.

"Wha—" sputtered Hermione. "How— Dumbledore— Not think of this—"

"Of course, it'd work," said Fred smugly. "Do you really think Dumbledore would bar underage students from participating if they had the skill to back it up? It's a test, you knobhead."

"But— But—" stammered Hermione. "I was certain…"

"So was I, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore in his deep, booming voice. "I received a complaint from Professor Karkaroff that his students weren't allowed past my Age Line, and here you two are…"

"So… it wasn't a test?" asked George quizzically, as he and his twin brother stepped over the Age Line.

Oleandra took the opportunity to quickly wipe off the chalk marks on the floor with the hem of her robe under her foot. Hopefully, nobody would notice…