Oliver Kent woke up a bit disoriented. He'd been dreaming quite deeply and had nearly forgotten where he was - or when, for that matter. He groaned as he came back to reality and sat up, rubbing a hand over his face and pushing himself up from the mattress. He was expected up at the castle for the ceremonial Weighing of the Wands for the Triwizard Tournament and would have literally rathered to do pretty much anything else in the world. But he'd already committed to helping the Diggory boy out. He'd been feeling a lot better about himself when he'd done it - Wally had been there, for one - and now he was on the downside of that emotional roller coaster - and Wally was not there any longer, for two. Wally hadn't even been back by - he was too busy with sorting out his wife - or ex-wife? who knew? - to bother with his husband - or ex-husband? Honestly, there were just too many variables for Oliver at such a time in the morning as this. 

It wasn't as early as Oliver's fretting would have one think, but past breakfast and into the mid-morning, though Oliver acted as though it were the middle of the night for all his groaning and foot-dragging about the rented room at the inn in Hogsmeade. 

Outside, the street was bustling. The first task was rapidly approaching and there were loads of folks in town - reporters from the Prophet and various other wizarding newspapers and magazines crowded about, filling the pubs and the tea room. Oliver decided he'd rather go hungry for the morning than face any questioning looks or inquiries at this hour, and he trotted along the road toward Hogwarts as inconspicuously as possible, wearing a hat to cover his highly recognizable hair and a jacket with the collar popped, eyes down, avoiding eye contact with passersby.

Once out of town, he relaxed a little - the road quieted the further out of the village one got, and he actually started to enjoy his walk for a bit before he felt eyes on his back and he turned around, worrying someone might've followed him out of town. But nobody was there. He couldn't shake the feeling, though, turning 'round every now and again to find the road empty. He could've sworn he saw something moving in the bushes, though, and he kept his eye on the brush and low limbs that lined the road long the lakeside edge. Whatever it was kept very well to the shadows, though, and he didn't catch a glimpse of it.

The castle gates were still ominous and looming, but much less so than they'd been when he had been a student there so many years ago. Hagrid sat with Fang the hound dog and eagerly got up out of the chair he'd been leaning back in, jovially pulling a large ring of keys from his pockets. "Oliver Kent!" he called out, grinning happily as he opened the gate for Oliver to enter onto the grounds. "I heard yeh was 'round the castle, helpin' out Cedric Diggory. That's mighty fine of yeh." 

Oliver waved his greeting, "Hullo Hagrid. How've you been?"

"Been a'right, been a'right," Hagrid muttered, closing up the gate again. "Been havin' a lot of visit'rs here at Hogwarts these days, what with the Tournament an' all... Very excitin' business, this Tournament, very excitin' indeed." He slung the keys back into his pocket. "I been keepin' up with the Cannons on account of yeh being their star seeker... I don' know a whole lot about quidditch, ain't never played it meself an' all, but yeh've been real impressive, Oliver. We're real proud of yeh here at Hogwarts, yeh know." Hagrid beamed with pride as he spoke and clapped his huge hand on Oliver's shoulder so hard Oliver was surprised that he didn't sink right into the soft dirt like a sound stake.

"Thank you Hagrid," Oliver said. Proud of me is the last thing any of you should be, but alright, he thought to himself, but Hagrid's black eyes glistened with such joy at seeing him again that Oliver didn't have it in him to let the old groundskeeper down.

"Yeh here for the weighin'?" Hagrid asked.

"Yessir," Oliver nodded.

"A lot of folks been comin' 'round for it," Hagrid said, "A lot of faces I 'aven't seen in years... Old Bartemius Crouch and Ludo Bagmen, a'course, here from the Ministry. Loads of reporters an' such, too. That feller you was friends with - Declan Alectric was 'round... Yeh remember Rowling a'course - played for Gryffindor back in the 70s when you lot weren't nothin' but little 'uns..."

"I don't remember, sorry," Oliver said, shaking his head, "Must've been before my time." He looked up at the castle, "Declan's here, you said?"

"Yep, saw 'im not fifteen minutes ago."

"Thanks, Hagrid. I'll see you later."

"Yeh'll be takin' care of yourself, Oliver?" Hagrid called after him as Oliver turned and started up the path to the school.

"Oh always, Hagrid," Oliver said half-heartedly.

He continued on up the path. On this side of the gates, he felt a lot more secure and that funny feeling of being followed that had plagued him all the way from town finally left him as he walked up the castle stairs.

Oliver looked around as he entered Hogwarts, students rushing around him, their robes swishing about their ankles, and he tried to remember what it was like to be that small. Had he really once been eleven and running around the halls like they were? It seemed so very, very long ago, like a distant memory or even a dream, something he wished he could return to every now and then. As hard as things had been then, they were so much worse now.

"Excuse me," he said, catching a boy with a yellow Prefect's badge pinned to his chest, "Have you seen Cedric Diggory?"

The boy's eyes widened. "Oliver Kent! Blimey, Herbert said you were going to be coming 'round for Ced but we didn't believe him!"

Oliver smiled patiently as the boy beckoned several friends over.

"Look'it here, Fleet wasn't full of it for once!" said one boy, marveling at Oliver.

"Did you really catch the snitch in the pitch dark of night during a three day game against Warshaw?" demanded a Ravenclaw who had joined the crowd. "And a new moon night and all - no light to see!"

Oliver flushed, "It was a crescent, rather..." he corrected.

"Still! Barely a drop of light and you catch the snitch, half the chasers ready to fall off their brooms but you never tired, huh?"

"Well --"

"I heard they tested charmed seeking machines against you and you still beat 'em, is it true?"

"D'you really hold the world's record for fastest broom flight?"

"Oi! Give the man a breather... All you miniatures scram." A red haired boy, gangly with a face full of freckles, was pushing his way through the sea of first and second years that had crowded around Oliver Kent and the prefect he'd initially stopped to ask for help. He was immediately followed by his double - a twin brother. "Hey grand job, Michael, very good job calling attention of the entire bleedin' school to the poor man!" the boy said, elbowing the prefect as he approached. "Hiya Mr. Kent!"

"We're here to get you - discreetly - to Mr. Diggory," said the second twin.

"Follow us," they said in unison.

Oliver nodded to the kids they were leaving behind and followed the twins from the cluster that had gathered around him. They led him quickly up a staircase, one looking over their shoulder backward to ensure they weren't being followed.

"So who are you?" Oliver asked, looking between the boys. "Friends of Cedric's?"

"Sure," they said in unison.

"Bloody everyone's a friend of Cedric's 'round here... though we are going to be rootin' for Harry in the tournament, sorry to tell you," said one of them.

"Yeah, Harry's our mate," said the other over his shoulder from where he was standing look-out at the corner.

"I'm George and he's Fred," the one leading Oliver on through the corridors waved back at the other twin, who saluted him and turned back to his position as look out. "Weasley," he added.

"Oh. Any relation to Bilius Weasley?" Oliver asked. 

He hadn't thought of old Bilius Weasley in ages - he'd been a friend of Jasper and Meg, and had passed away some time ago. Now that he thought on it, both Fred and George looked quite a lot like old Bil and he wasn't at all surprised when the twins answered, in unison, "He was our uncle."

Oliver was about to press on with questions when he realized where they were and he let out a laugh as George hurried ahead and said, "Right this way, Mr. Kent, watch your steps, tunnel's a bit dark and there's a gap or two along the way," as he pulled aside a tapestry that was all too familiar to Oliver Kent. 

He looked about at the twins in amusement, "Oh you pair know about this tunnel, do you?"

"Used it for years," Fred said, scrambling up behind Oliver and George as they stepped into the dark passageway. Oliver was impressed to see that the lanterns made of bluebell flames that Wally had fashioned and done permanent sticking charms to the walls were still lit, giving the tunnel a low illumination that meant one could traverse through without having to light their wand. Why the Marauders had never done it was beyond any of the lads in the D.W.O. He smiled as they passed by the jars that marked the gaps in the passageway, which, he was impressed to see, somebody along the way had laid down planks to walk across like bridges and secured them down so the passage was less dangerous. Why hadn't the D.W.O. thought of that? he wondered. 

The Weasleys led Oliver through the castle  until they'd reached the Trophy Room, passing by the alcove without stopping in.

"Here we are," announced Fred, waving to the door to a classroom, where the twins had been directed to bring Oliver for the Weighing Ceremony.

"Enjoy the Ceremony," George said, and the twins started off down the corridor, then paused, and George returned. "Are you mates with Ludo Bagman?" he asked.

"We get on alright," Oliver replied. "For being members of rival teams, that is..."

"You ever place any bets with him?" Fred asked, "Say... maybe at the World Cup?"

"No," Oliver frowned. "Why?"

Fred looked at George and George looked at Fred and they had a whole conversation with their eyes that Oliver couldn't possibly have understood or kept up with, but it ended with Fred turning to Oliver, "We were just curious."

"Never met so many famous quidditch players before," George added, his tone clearly attempting to distract Oliver from the original question.

"You and Bagman and Krum, all at once!" Fred added.

"Say, our younger brother, Ron, would positively clobber us if we didn't ask you for your autograph."

"Consider it payment for our services, getting you through the castle unseen and all," Fred added.

Oliver laughed and nodded and when George held out a copy of Quaffle Talk magazine with Oliver on the cover, he signed it without hesitation. "Thanks you lot," he said.

"Thank you," the pair said in unison and they were off down the corridor and back into the Trophy Room without another moment's hesitation.

Oliver drew a deep breath and stepped inside the small classroom. The desks had been pushed away to the back of the room, covered with velvet, with five chairs behind. Ludo Bagman was there, sitting with his feet up on the table and hands crossed over on his rather round stomach, appearing to be day dreaming. Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and Fleur Delacor were there already, clustered together and pouring over a bit of parchment being held by Viktor, who looked up when the door opened. His eyes met Oliver's and instant turned stony. He shoved the parchment into Cedric Diggory's hand and turned away, slouching into the corner across the room and looking out the window. Fleur turned to watch him go, "Veektor?" she asked, confused, then turned back 'round and saw Oliver in the doorway. "Oh," she murmured. She looked to Cedric, "Theez eez your trainer, no?"

Cedric smiled when he saw Oliver, "Hey!" he said happily. "I'll be over in just a sec."

Hearing this, Ludo Bagman perked up. "Kent! Kent c'mon up here and we'll have a talk while the kids are waitin' for the ceremony to start." 

Oliver glanced at Cedric, who had already turned back to Fleur with the parchment Krum had shoved into his hands. Viktor had his back-to the room, still stony-faced, and Oliver sighed, resigning himself to the long winded conversation that was sure to await him with Bagman. In the corner, a blonde-haired witch with bright green robes and pink glasses, watched over her spectacle frames, standing beside a paunchy man, holding a large black camera. Oliver recognized her nearly at once from the Quidditch World Cup and he felt his face start to flush with anger at the memory of the last time he'd seen her - Rita Skeeter.

Declan Alectric was no where to be seen.

However, the camera man, seeing Oliver looking his way, he instantly aimed and took a shot, a puff of black smoke seething up as the flashbulb popped loudly. 

Oliver flushed and hurried up to Bagman's side. He'd no sooner sat down than the door opened again and in walked Harry Potter.