The Fifth Champion

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Trent walked into Charissa's Defence Against the Dark Arts class, in which she was once again having a terrible time. Moody seemed determined to pick on Charissa at every opportunity.

"I'm supposed to take Charissa downstairs, sir." Trent said. "Mr. Bagman wants all the champions."

Charissa grabbed all over her things and hurried out after Trent. "Do you know why he wants us?" Charissa asked.

Maybe it was just her imagination, but Trent seemed a bit pink. "Um,uh, Daily Prophet, I think." He stuttered. Charissa sighed. She had always hated pictures.

Charissa left Trent at the door of a small classroom, immediately spotting Cedric talking to Fleur Delacour. Viktor Krum was moping in the corner, and Harry Potter was nowhere to be found. Not wanting to interrupt Cedric, Charissa found herself in a corner opposite of Krum.

"Charissa, I didn't even hear you come in!" Cedric exclaimed as they moved to sit at a velvet covered table.

"Guess it's the Slytherin in me!" Charissa grinned, mainly for the purposes of annoying Karkaroff, who looked like he would rather be anywhere but Hogwarts at that moment.

"I'd like to introduce Mr. Ollivander, who will be checking to make sure your wands are all in excellent condition for the tournament." Dumbledore said, gesturing to the old wandmaker.

He tested Fleur's wand first. He made a bouquet of flowers appear, judged the wand satisfactory and moved on.

"Ms. Malfoy, your wand, please?" Mr. Ollivander held out his hand, and Charissa handed over her wand.

"Ah, I remember this wand. Cypress and phoenix feather, ten inches, unyielding. I've never sold a Cypress wand to a Malfoy before. Very odd, that this wand should choose you." Mr. Ollivander said. Charissa remembered it well. Charissa had spotted the wand lying on top of a counter and picked it up. Mr. Ollivander had been rather surprised at the sight of the wand working perfectly for her.

"And why would that be?" Rita asked him. Mr. Ollivander ignored the question. He waved the wand. Nothing happened. He handed the wand back to Charissa. "Perfect condition." He said. Confused and a bit embarrassed, she took the wand back.

"Why didn't anything happen?" Rita asked, but Mr. Ollivander had already moved onto Cedric's wand. Charissa was wondering the exact same thing, reflecting back to the day she had gotten her wand.

Curious, Mr. Ollivander had said. Quite curious indeed.

What is? Charissa had asked.

It's just that the Phoenix from which I obtained the feather from refused to listen to anyone but it's master. That quality passed onto all the wands I've made out of its feathers. That wand you're holding right there is the first wand to work. Mr. Ollivander had explained. None of its sisters have ever worked. In fact, that's the first time any of them have worked for any witch or wizard. Not even I can use those wands.

Perhaps that was the reason her wand hadn't worked. Perhaps it wouldn't listen to anyone but her, just like the phoenix.

"Picture time!" Rita exclaimed, herding the champions and their headmasters into a group. She dragged Harry to the front, despite protests from the photographer, who wanted Fleur in front. Rita dragged Charissa to the center as well, placing her in front of Cedric and next to Harry.

"I hate photos." Charissa muttered.

Rita seemed to take forever to get all the pictures of the group. Charissa's face was burning by the time she had finished the group shots. "Individuals now!" Rita ordered.

"Merlin, no!" Charissa complained quietly.

When Rita was finished taking individual pictures, she decided she wanted pictures of the two Hufflepuff champions, and thus began another ten minutes of photos with Cedric. The other champions had gone down to dinner already.

"My face hurt so bad." Charissa said when they were finally finished with pictures. Cedric nodded in agreement. They turned to head down to dinner.

"Charissa!" Rita exclaimed. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To dinner." Charissa responded, annoyed.

"Not so fast, sweetheart. I still need an interview." Rita's voice was sickly sweet.

"You need an interview like I need another picture taken." Charissa rolled her eyes and turned back to the door. She felt a cold hand grab her wrist.

"Hey!" She exclaimed.

"Like it or not, you're a champion, honey." Rita's voice was cold now. "And being a champion means press. Interview, now."

Charissa rolled her eyes and gave Cedric a quick hug. "Save me a spot at dinner." She sighed, absolutely annoyed. Cedric nodded and headed out.

"So," Rita started, her voice back to its normal tone. "What's it feel like to be the youngest champion? And the fifth one at that?" Her Quick-Quotes Quill was speeding across the parchment.
"It's a bit of a shock." Charissa said, cooling off.

"That's it? 'A bit of a shock?' Nothing a bit more interesting?" Rita pried.

"Alright, a lot of a shock!" Charissa shot at her.

"But it can't have been too much of a shock for you, having put your name in the Goblet of Fire?" Rita kept going.

"I didn't put my name in the Goblet!" Charissa exclaimed. "How many times do I have to say it?"

"You can tell me the truth." Rita said.

"The truth is I. Did. Not. Put. My. Name. In. The. Goblet. Of. Fire." Charissa said through gritted teeth.

Rita looked disappointed. "Everybody loves a rebel, Charissa."

"No." Charissa muttered. "No, they don't."

Unfortunately, Rita heard, giving her another topic to dive into. "So, what's it like, being the first known Malfoy to be Sorted into a house other than Slytherin?" She asked.

"If you must know, I'm rather proud!" Charissa exclaimed.

"Tell me, have you spoken with your parents at all since?" Rita asked.

"That's absolutely none of your business!" Charissa jumped out of her chair, turning to leave and catching a glimpse of Rita's parchment. "And for the record, I'm not crying!" She grabbed the parchment and scratched out a few lines before storming off.