15 | daddy issues

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     Samira stomped into the Great Hall, her hand clutched around a piece of parchment. The laughter that followed her during her walk alongside the Gryffindor table she barely heard through the blood tossing like the Niagara falls through her ears.

     She had spotted his flaming red hair the second she entered the hall, right next to his twin brother and Lee Jordan, and her steps fastened with every inch she neared him.

     "George Weasley, you complete arse!", Samira hissed at him, hitting the back of his hand with the loose side of the Daily Prophet, she had ripped out of the newspaper she had found laying on one of the tables in the Hufflepuff common room.

     "Ouch?", George asked, turning around and looking at her bug-eyed. "What was that for?"

     "This had been a private talk, you piece of shit!", she spat at him, her face a bewildered mask. "How could you dare?"

     George grabbed her wrist, as she was about to slap the newspaper at his head for a second time. "I have not even the fuzziest what you're talking about." His voice was calm, his face, though, wasn't; frown marked his expression.

     "Daddy issues?" She threw the site at him and he caught it without looking at it, with the reflexes of a true Beater. "What was this for? Did she pay you or what? That's why you dated me, huh?"

     By now, the Great Hall had fallen silent, all eyes on Samira and George.

     "Really, I have no idea what you're talking about", George repeated, raising his hands in defense, the newspaper site now clutched between his slender fingers.

     Fred snatched it out of his grip and started to read, his eyes widening with every word.

     "Should have known you git were up to no good", snarled the Hufflepuff. "First I'm your test subject and you almost killed me with your stupid sweets, now you sold every word I told you sub rosa to this bloody Skeeter woman?!" She took a shaky breath, as he again reached out his hand for her and took a step. "Stay away from me, Weasley, I dare you!"

     Turning on heels, Samira marched out of the Great Hall, hearing George call her name, but she didn't intend to even grant him another look from her. The embarrassment she had first felt this morning had doubled and quadrupled since then, and so did her anger.

     She had already felt uncomfortable, when she had left her dormitory and found some third years pointing their fingers at her with a childish giggling. Minutes later, her eyes fell on the newspaper they left laying on the table, and she found the source of her ruin.

Daddy Issues

Samira Diggory, the overlooked and ignored champion of the Triwizard Tournament, that is currently taking place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had her very own controversial reasons to join the game. While the intentions of her fellow campaigners lay in the relatable reasons to gain fame and glory, Diggory's motives are as sad as they are disconcerting.

Samira Diggory is no one else than the daughter of Amos Diggory, worker for the Ministry in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

Samira Diggory opened to a reporter of the Daily Prophet, that the one and only reason she applied for the tournament, was the lack of attention and love she suffered from a very young age. Constantly in the shadows of her brother Cedric (17), who also applied for the Triwizard Tournament, Samira Diggory took a desperate way to win her father's heart by risking her life during the three extremely difficult and dangerous tasks the tournament offers.

What Samira couldn't have reckoned, was the participation of the Boy Who Lived as Hogwarts second champion, who had already stolen Samira's show during the first task. Harry Potter, a fourteen year old boy with way less magical education than Samira, managed to climb the winner's podium together with Bulgarian Quidditch star Viktor Krum in November.

The second task is set for February 24th. Let's hope for Samira she won't fail a second time and finally win her father's respect — or at least wish her the best to cope with another defeat by Harry Potter.

— Rita Skeeter

     Samira had felt like being stomped against the head. Not slapped, no. Stomped. As there were only three persons existing, she had ever opened up to about this issue (the word tasted bitter, even in her thoughts) were Ian, Nora and bloody George Weasley. Latter had nothing better to do, obviously, than sell her story to the Daily Prophet.

     "You have to look on the bright side of this", Ian tried to cheer her up later in the morning, while they had a free period. "At least this time she mentioned you. And your name is written correctly. That's more than Fleur Delacroix or Deliahcour or whatever got from Skeeter."

     "Oh yeah, that's perfect, now people are at least one hundred percent sure that she's writing about me", Samira scoffed, still frowning like she did the whole morning.

     She knew she shouldn't bother about this. Rita Skeeter was famous for ruining lives since ever. Samira's father had been mentioned on the lowest levels in Skeeter's articles several times. That wasn't really the worst thing.

     What shattered her from the inside was the fact that she had trusted George Weasley, and how utterly dumb she had been. What did she even know about him? Fancying him from afar for six years obviously wasn't enough reason to put your trust in someone. Oh, she could slap herself for her own stupidity again and again.

     But the second task was mere two weeks to go, and Samira wouldn't let a George Weasley distract her ever again. So why were tears brimming in her eyes and a lump in her throat threatening to suffocate her?

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