The Malfoy Project

𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚘 #𝟻 - 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙵𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎

     Soon, the day came when the delegates from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were due to arrive. The atmosphere in the Hall that evening was quivering in anticipation as Dumbledore announced the schools and their respective Heads. 

     The Beauxbatons students were more beautiful that rumoured, inciting hungry stares from the boys and jealous whispering amongst the girls. And, true to Diggory's speculation, Viktor Krum was amongst the pounding and chanting Durmstrang party. At the sight of him, the entire school leapt up in applause, and I caught Diggory's eye across the room. 

     See, I told you, he indicated to me with his eyebrows. I held up four fingers discreetly and mouthed the words 'four thousand', to which he smiled and nodded. 

     Towards the end of dinner, Dumbledore tapped his glass with his fork to draw our attention. What seemed to be a large, tiered shrine had been brought out to the front, its jewels glistening wetly under the candlelight. With a flail of the Headmaster's wand, and the casket melted away to reveal a large goblet, plain and undecorated. 

     Dumbledore then announced that the three champions will be chosen by the Goblet. Students keen to participate were to write their names on a piece of parchment and drop it in within the next twenty-four hours, and the Goblet would reveal its chosen champions the very next day on Halloween. 

     "Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract." 

     There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion.

     The Goblet was then left in the Great Hall, encircled by a thin golden line of a ten-foot diameter etched on the floor. I stared at it with mild satisfaction. Surely there was no way Potter would be able to fool the enchantment! 

     Then again, it didn't matter if he did. I had my own horse in the race now; one that was older, more capable, and equally motivated to win. 

     What would Cedric Diggory do for love? Probably the same things I would.

     And I knew this because while both our ambitions wore different masks, they were born from the same source: a lack of positive affirmation. We pined determinedly for it; hunted it down obsessively and unwaveringly.

     The only difference between us? 

     I would never make love the reason for my ambition. 

⚜

     Diggory almost died during the First Task. 

     He had been clever enough to transfigure a rock into a dog to distract his foe, a particularly mean-spirited Swedish Short-Snout. But the wily dragon decided partway that Diggory was a far more interesting target, and while he managed to retrieve the Golden Egg — to my immense relief — he only narrowly dodged the dragon's fire and was badly burnt on the side of his face. 

     While Potter remained the crowd favourite, Diggory's injury elevated him to near-celebrity status, acquiring him an ever-growing tail of giggling girls wherever he went. When it was known that he had asked Cho to the Yule Ball, they were devastated, one even swearing she would set Cho's dress on fire. 

     I, for one, was not concerned about what I was going to wear. Three weeks earlier, I had received a parcel from my parents containing a tailored suit made of pure black silk. It reminded me of the one Father had purchased for me to wear to the Quidditch World Cup, and I detested it instantly.