O6 | of pride and prejudice

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     "Why haven't you told me?"

     Cedric was waiting for Samira in front of the Hufflepuff common room, his arms crossed and a stern expression plastered on his face. The euphoria Samira had felt after her name had been called out was slowly dying. She didn't much bother about not being the only Hogwarts champion. At least Harry Potter was just a fourteen year old boy, and she was more concerned he wouldn't survive the first task, than actually stealing her victory.

     "Because I exactly knew you'd look at me just the way you do now", Samira scoffed. "You would have tried to talk this idea out of my head, and probably you would have told dad, who'd tried the same, so I won't steal the golden boy's show."

     "I wouldn't have", Cedric replied and his features softened. "I'm just disappointed, you didn't tell me. For sure I would have been happy to participate in the tournament, but it's also great that it's you now. I told you a hundred times, Dad's underestimating you. Now you'll show him." He grinned from ear to ear, his arms now opened wide, and Samira let him engulf her in a bear-like hug. "I'm proud of you, Sammy. You'll win this thing, I know it!"

     As Samira had suggested, her father wasn't pleased about her being a champion. He didn't say or write it. He didn't say or write anything at all. The next morning, Samira received a letter from their mother, filled with congratulations and the assurance, that she indeed was proud of her daughter. The letter, though, wasn't signed by her father as well.

     "Don't let that get you down", Nora told a frowning Samira staring at her mother's letter. "He's probably shocked he just found out he actually has a daughter." 

     Her words tugged a smile on Samira's face, and her euphoria finally fully returned at the start of DADA class. Samira took her seat next to George as usually, but this time it was different. While George Weasley used to greet her with nothing but a nod during the last weeks, before turning his attention back to his twin brother, today he greeted her with a wide grin, and so did Fred and Lee Jordan.

     "Congratulations, champion!", George said, as she sat down. "Though I can't deny I have to support Harry, because he's a Gryffindor, and also kinda family, I will silently applaud for you, so my housemates have no reason to poison my cereals the morning after."

     "Well, that's more than I ever dreamt of", Samira chuckled, and thank goodness and all evil, did George not know about the amount of truth that hid in her words. "Harry is doing alright, is he? He seemed pretty shocked when the goblet spit his name out."

     "Oh, it's Harry, he's faced You-Know-Who twice and escaped a mass murderer, so this tournament will probably be a walk in the park to him", George replied, his grin turning mischievous. "I'm a bit sorry for you, for you have an mighty opponent with that little guy. Must be hard to know you just can't win."

     "Never underestimate us badgers, George. We don't fear much."

     Their discussion was abruptly ended, as Moody entered the classroom, but though Samira's eyes were turned towards the blackboard, out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed George Weasley throwing glances at her every now and then. 

      What did she even care that her father wasn't proud of her, or that she had to share the attention she got with Harry Potter? George Weasley was looking at her, and he even promised to silently support her!

     Their children would look ridiculously stunning.

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     Samira missed two full lessons to give an interview to the strangest and most unsympathetic lady she had ever met, just to find out the next day, that the newspaper didn't even mention her. Under normal circumstances, Samira would have felt pity for Harry Potter, as Rita Skeeter obviously had taken the Triwizard Tournament as an excuse to write the most embarrassing article about the famous young Gryffindor. But not being mentioned in The Daily Prophet at all, wouldn't help to persuade her father from his daughter's ability to participate this tournament. Krum and Delacour at least we're named in the article, though all written utterly wrong, but Samira did not even exist.

     That's why she didn't bother much, when the first badges appeared all over the castle, calling her out as the TRUE Hogwarts champion — and also mentioning in bright neon green letters, POTTER STINKS. It was childish and pathetic, and Samira would do hell and wear it herself, but she didn't much mind her housemates pinning it onto their robes, even though her conscious was screaming at her to tell those fools to take it off.

     Frowning again, Samira told Ian and Nora goodbye, who both had to leave for Runes, and Samira had a spare time filled with masses of homework awaiting her. That she didn't have to write exams, didn't mean that professors like McGonagall and Snape would easily forgive her, if she wouldn't turn in her essays in time, and after all the hustle and bustle of the last days, Samira noticed that the pile of undone work grew tall over her head.

     Sitting in the library, head bowed down over a piece of parchment, quill scratching over the surface, Samira didn't even notice the tall figure stepping at her table, until he sat down on an empty chair next to her. Looking up dazzled, she found herself faced with Roger.

     "Fame and grades don't work quite well together, huh?", he asked, grinning sheepishly.

     Samira didn't reply, only cocking an eyebrow at him, so he rubbed the back of his head, saying, "See, I came to talk to you. About ... you know."

     "About the day you decided to act like the biggest jingo walking this planet?" Eyebrow still up high, she watched Roger's ears turning red.

     "Uhm, I was worried about you, Sam", he grumbled. "This tournament is dangerous and I still don't think it's the right thing for you. But I will support you, of course. And if you ever need help —"

     "I don't need your help, Roger", Samira hissed. "Having a vagina isn't disqualifying me from winning this thing."

     "That's not what I said."

     "That is exactly what you said." Samira slammed her book shut and rolled up the parchment. "Even if it wasn't, I still don't want your support. Don't you think I don't know that you already tried to get a date with Alicia Spinnet? After what you've said that day, no girl wants to go out with you, am I right? So you thought you could try creeping back to me." She got up and grabbed her bag. "Know what? Screw you!"

     With her heels clicking on the floor, Samira rushed out of the library without throwing a look back over her shoulder. If she had, she wouldn't have only noticed Roger's startled glare, but also a pair of chocolate brown eyes following her every step, and lips curled into an admiring smile.

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