𝙛𝙤𝙤𝙡𝙨 (𝖽𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖿𝗈𝗒 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋)

chapter ten

The end of summer had once again come, and I now found myself sitting in a compartment with Harry and his friends, speeding towards Hogwarts. We were casually talking, messing around, and playing Bean Roulette until our chatter stopped to listen to a different voice.

"Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore, the man's such a Mudblood-lover, and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defence rubbish we do," the voice, cold and haughty, explained.

I sighed, standing up to open the blinds to see Malfoy and the two pigs he calls friends, Crabbe and Goyle.

"So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he? I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him!" Hermione said angrily.

Draco's voice stopped as his eyes drifted to the window. Seeing me, he opened the compartment door and poked his head in, smirking. "Hey, Y/n, Star was looking for you. Surely, you should pick a side. Would you rather stick around with us and have fun at this lousy school, or stay with your brother and his buddies? Anyway, my sister's at the front of the train if you wanted to know."

"Thanks," I said quietly. He walked away and I closed the door behind him. I faced Harry.

"He's a prick, you know," my brother said. The irritation in his voice was clear as day. "He already knows that you're going to stay with us. I'm your brother."

I looked down at my hands, suddenly more interested in the paper cuts on my fingers than Harry's words.

"You're not actually considering going with the Malfoys, are you?"

"I--"

"Seriously?" Ron added, getting into an argument he wasn't a part of.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed my suitcase. Without another glance at the three, I left their compartment and walked to the front of the train, looking through the windows for my light-haired friend.

Air escaped my lips as I let out a sigh of relief upon finding her. She smiled as soon as I entered the compartment.

"Hey," Star said calmly. I put my trunk next to hers and sat down. "Have you heard about the Triwizard Tournament?"

"No, I haven't. What is it?"

"It's this super dangerous competition that's supposed to happen every four years. It's been decades since the last one, though, because someone died last time! But," she said dramatically, "Hogwarts is hosting one this year. Students from two other schools, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, are going to be staying with us this year for the tournament!"

Her excitement spread to me like a wave. "That sounds wonderful," I said happily. "Are you going to enter?"

"Oh, no, I can't. Neither can you. Students have to be above the age of seventeen in order to enter, and even then, only one student per school gets chosen."

"That makes sense," I answered. I opened my mouth to speak again, but my words were cut short as the compartment door slammed.

"I see you chose us," Draco said confidently. "You made a good decision."

"What do you mean, 'chose us'?" Star asked.

"I told Y/n that she should make a decision about who she hangs out with."

"Oh, Y/n, you know that you don't have to, right?" my friend said sympathetically.

"Yeah," I answered, "but I don't think Harry will want to speak to me now."

Star engulfed me in a tight hug. "It's okay."

~~~

"Hey, Harry--"

His glare cut me off, and I shrunk back into the crowd. I turned to Star, tears blurring my vision already.

"He's just mad right now. He'll get over it," she said quietly as we walked into the Great Hall for dinner.

"He's been like this for months," I said, voice shaking.

"Give him time," she answered.

We sat at the Slytherin table, ignoring the stares I was getting from crying. Dumbledore stood up from the administrators' table and approached the giant, golden cup standing in front of him: the Goblet of Fire.

"It is time from the drawing of the Champions to begin!" he yelled, earning cheers and shouts of joy. I wiped my tears and clapped. "The champion from Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum!" The Durmstrang students, sitting at the Slytherin table with me and the rest of my House, erupted with excitement.

"The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!" The table next to us, the Ravenclaw table, started clapping in response, the Beauxbatons students and the Ravenclaws too polite to yell.

"The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!" The Hufflepuffs, sitting at the table on the opposite end of the Great Hall, screeched cheers of happiness and pride.

The three Champions walked up to the administrators' table, following Dumbledore into a back room.

The Great Hall filled with noise again, adrenaline and excitement bubbling through the air. I lazily picked at the food on my plate, ignoring the sound until it went silent again. My attention was directed back to the front of the room as a bright red flame shot from the Goblet of Fire. A piece of parchment exploded from it and drifted into Dumbledore's hand, doing nothing to fix our confusion.

Dumbledore grabbed the papers. Multiple emotions flashed across his face momentarily before he held up the papers and yelled my name.

I didn't respond, and Star pushed my shoulder. "He called for you and your brother, silly."

"Y/n and Harry Potter!" the Headmaster yelled again.

This time, I stood up and made my way to the room where the Champions had gone. Harry was close behind me, and Professor McGonagall, Snape, and Dumbledore were on his heels.

"Harry and Y/n, did you put your names in the Goblet of Fire?" asked Dumbledore. His voice was calm, but he sounded agitated.

"No, sir, I would never, I didn't want to be part of the tournament," I stammered.

"No," said Harry.

"Did you ask an older student to put your names into the Goblet of Fire for you?"

"No."

"They're obviously lying," Snape said.

I looked around the room. The three champions were huddled together, whispering, most likely about us. The professors stood in front of us, talking and arguing, also about us. Professor Moody, this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, stood with two men I didn't know.

"The Goblet's decision is the word of the tournament," Dumbledore said. "The Potters will have no choice but to compete."