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Aria's head throbbed

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Aria's head throbbed.

Her eyes remained closed, too heavy to open, and she felt too drained to even try. Instead, she focused on the sounds around her, voices arguing in heated tones

"Obviously there 'as been foul play involved," a woman's voice said indignantly, her accent sharp and unfamiliar.

"I refuse to let Aria compete in this," another voice broke through, this one rough and on edge, almost frantic. It sounded like James Potter—his voice was hoarse, like he had been shouting for a while.

"This is preposterous!" A man spluttered, his outrage evident in every syllable. "Your school 'as an unfair advantage, Albus! Two champions instead of one?"

"Are you daft?" Yup, James Potter again.

The conversation continued, voices overlapping and blending together.

"Well, it's clear she didn't put her name in herself," someone else remarked, their tone more measured than the rest's, as if trying to calm the situation.

Aria wanted to know what they were talking about, wanted to understand what was happening and why she was here.

The voices grew fainter as sleep claimed her once more, their words fading into nothingness as she let herself drift away, too tired to stay awake and continue listening.




This time, Aria was able to open her eyes.

The familiar ceiling of the hospital wing greeted her, the dim light telling her it was still nighttime, and the low murmurs of voices at the door hinting that she was not alone. Her head throbbed, and her entire body felt like it had been put through the wringer.

With great effort, she tried to sit up, but her muscles felt weak, and she barely managed to lift her head before a firm but gentle hand pushed her back down. Madam Pomfrey appeared by her side.

"Oh dear, not so fast," The healer tutted, pushing some hair out of her face "You shouldn't try to stand just yet. Your body is still recovering."

Aria blinked, taking a moment to steady herself. Normally, she would have lashed out, demanded answers, or let the rising panic take control. But If there was one thing she knew for sure, it was that Madam Pomfrey had nothing to do with the situation she found herself in. Panic would get her nowhere

"What's going on?" Aria asked, her voice hoarse but steady. She needed answers, and she needed them now.

Madam Pomfrey gave her a grave look, her hands gently adjusting the blankets around her. "Your magic, my dear," she began softly, "is severely depleted. Apparating across such a vast distance, especially without preparation, has taken a toll on you that I've rarely seen. The kind of strain you've endured could have easily killed you. It's a miracle you're still in one piece."

Aria's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why would my magic do that?" she asked, trying to make sense of it all.

"Because the Goblet of Fire chose you as its champion."

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