“Nanette, hurry up, everyone else has gone downstairs! They’re going to leave without us!” Louis Proust pulled his trunk towards the room entrance, fruitlessly trying to hurry his best friend.

Louis, although very hesitant to even discuss it with himself, was constantly wondering why the Headmaster allowed Nanette to participate in the Triwizard Tournament. He wasn’t disappointed; in fact he was extremely glad that his best friend would be accompanying him to this exciting event. However, he wondered what was going on through Headmaster Chevron’s mind. He hadn’t confronted Nanette with this of course, for he didn’t want to destroy her already cracked confidence. Maybe Headmaster Chevron understood that the Goblet of Fire could never choose her, and was simply bringing her along as a confidence booster. The Headmaster knew Nanette’s traumatic past very well.

Nanette came running downstairs, her trunk making a thumping noise as she dragged it along the stairs. “I’m here, Louis, I’m here,” said Nanette with a scowl that expressed deep frustration. “They’d never leave without us, Louis, so don’t worry so much.”

Louis rolled his eyes as Nanette sat down in an armchair to rest. “Come on, Nan!” said Louis as he made to walk out.

Nanette jumped and caught up with him. Louis pulled out his wand and levitated both trunks, allowing them to reach the Gardens much faster than they would have had they dragged their trunks along the floor like cave people.

“Did you study those English books I gave you, Nan?” Louis asked of his friend without much hope of receiving a positive answer. Nanette had to be the laziest person he had ever met: she hardly ever opened a book. She wouldn’t have been a star student if she had studied, but at least she would have gotten more O.W.L.s.

Nanette didn’t meet his eyes. Louis groaned. “Nanette, we are going to England. They don’t speak French over there.”

“I can speak English,” Nanette protested. “Not well, I know, but I can speak well enough to carry on a conversation.”

Louis sighed. “All right, do what you will.”

When they got to the Gardens, it was to find that everyone was seated inside the carriage that would take them to Hogwarts. Headmaster Chevron was standing beside the door, his arms crossed, and irritably tapping his foot.

“Where have you two been?” he asked angrily. “We’ve been waiting for ten minutes. I told you I wanted to get there early!”

“Sorry, Headmaster Chevron. We just…”

“No excuses,” said a livid Chevron as he stepped into the carriage. “Just get in!”

Nanette and Louis hurried to obey their angry Headmaster. Louis closed the door behind him, and prepared himself for Nanette’s hysterics and complains of claustrophobia.

She took a deep, exaggerated breath and held her blond hair back with her hands. “Wow, it’s really cramped in here, isn’t it, Louis?”

“Not that I can see.”

“But it’s a bit hard to-” Nanette gasped as the carriage horses suddenly pulled the carriage higher. “I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all!”

***

Mikaela Malfoy fidgeted at the Slytherin table, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the rival schools. Professor McGonagall had said they would be arriving soon. Mikaela was fully intent on entering the contest �“ and winning. The minute she had found about that the Tournament was taking place, she had started studying much more than usual, and memorized tons of new spells, charms, and jinxes. She had looked up past tasks the Champions had been asked to do, and studied every little detail pertaining to the Triwizard Tournament. Mikaela didn’t think there was anything else to do.

“Stop squirming!” Molly Jayne Weasley scolded. Unlike Mikaela, Molly Jayne had no interest in the Tournament. She had no intention of entering, nor did it matter much to her who won. Sometimes Molly Jayne’s easygoing manner annoyed Mikaela.

“Aren’t you excited?” asked Mikaela hopefully, turning to face her best friend. “Just a little bit?”

Molly Jayne adamantly shook her head, her dark hair flying around as she did so. “Not one bit. What’s there to be excited about? The school will be crowded and there will be so much commotion, I probably won’t be able to find a quite place to sit and think.”

Mikaela sighed. She knew there was no changing Molly Jayne’s mind once it had formed an opinion. It was most likely a trait she had inherited from her father, Percy Weasley, for Molly Jayne had told her of the feuds he had had with his parents, back when nobody thought Voldemort had come back, even though Harry Potter and the late Albus Dumbledore insisted he was.

Albus Dumbledore, as Mikaela had been told, had been the greatest wizard of all time. For a long time, it had been believed that it was only he who could destroy Voldemort �“ the most evil wizard of all time. But then Harry Potter came along. There was a huge war between the two sides of good and evil �“ Mikaela’s father had often told her about it.

Mikaela’s father, Draco, had initially been on Voldemort’s side. He had attempted to kill Dumbledore, but the deed ended up in the hands of one Severus Snape, and by his hand Dumbledore was killed. Mikaela’s father came to regret his actions, and also sensed that Voldemort was looking likely to lose the battle. So he joined the Order of the Phoenix, a secret society that fought Voldemort, and helped them in the final battle.

It was a tale Mikaela had heard many times, until it had become practically legend to her. She admired her father’s bravery and fame. Mikaela wanted that �“ she wanted fame and glory, much like her father and Harry Potter. It was basically why she planned to enter the Triwizard Tournament. If she won, no one would ever forget that a Malfoy had triumphed in the Triwizard Tournament.

Molly Jayne sighed, and pinched Mikaela. “Ouch!” Mikaela rubbed her arm. “What did you do that for?”

Molly Jayne waved her arms exasperatedly. “You were gazing off into space with that dreamy look on your face again,” said Molly Jayne. “A few minutes later and you would have been drooling.”

“I would not,” Mikaela giggled. “Does this mean you aren’t going to come and watch me in the Tournament?”

Molly Jayne narrowed her dark brown eyes. “You seem pretty confident that you’re going to get chosen.”

Mikaela smiled. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure I will be. If I work really hard, I might win as well.”

“Mikaela, I just don’t want you to get your hopes up, because then you’ll feel terrible if you lose -”

“So I’ve got to make sure I don’t lose,” Mikaela interrupted.

“There’s no convincing you, is there?”

Mikaela shrugged, and glanced at the staff table. She was looking specifically at Professor McGonagall, searching for any sign on her face that would reveal that the other school had arrived.

“Mikaela, you’re acting hysterical,” Molly Jayne scolded. “They’ll come when they come. You need to calm down.”

Mikaela sighed as she realized her friend was right. She was acting much too manic. Being in the Triwizard Tournament is all about keeping a cool head, Mikaela realized. If I don’t do that, I don’t have a chance of winning.

***

Molly Jayne looked at her best friend wearily. She truly could not understand why this Tournament was a source of such great excitement for her. Upon hearing the news that the Triwizard Tournament was to be hosted at Hogwarts, in honor of Cedric Diggory, the champion who died last time around, Mikaela had run off to the library to research the Tournament. Then she and Molly Jayne had practiced spells to no end. This Tournament was really getting to her.

Molly Jayne knew Mikaela Malfoy was ambitious; it was one of the things that had put her in Slytherin, and also one of the things that attracted her to Molly Jayne. Molly Jayne knew her best friend like no one else: Mikaela would most likely win this Tournament, because she didn’t know how to lose. No one had ever gotten a higher mark than her on a test �“ Mikaela would kill herself before she let that happen. She spent hours and hours studying for a simple exam, just to ensure that she would come out the best.

It was not a love of education and learning, it was more a form of vanity. Mikaela refused to have anyone be better than her. She was ruthless in that aspect as well, for she would do anything to reach the top. Mikaela was certainly not a stranger to cheating, and would no doubt cheat in the Tournament as soon as she found a way, Molly Jayne was absolutely sure of that. It was a flaw in her otherwise perfectly kind personality, a flaw that stopped her from making the multitudes of friends she should have had. People…didn’t like her. They thought her arrogant, and compared her to her father.

Draco Malfoy, although managing to switch sides during the war, and aid in the defeat of Voldemort, was still ostracized by many. The fact that he had once almost killed Albus Dumbledore still weighed heavily on society’s mind, and the Malfoy reputation was forever tarnished. Maybe that was why Mikaela longed to prove herself.

Molly Jayne could not understand her friend’s approach to life. Molly Jayne didn’t strive for good grades or fame �“ she wasn’t yet sure what she wanted, but it was certainly not those trivial things. Molly Jayne did not want to achieve great things, much to her father’s disappointment. Percy Weasley often told her he was worried about her the most out of her five other siblings. Molly Jayne’s older brother Edgar had only achieved five O.W.L.s, but Edgar was an extremely talented Chaser, and had gone on to play professional. His life was set.

Molly Jayne didn’t have Quidditch talent. She wasn’t especially clever or smart. She didn’t like to read or study. She wasn’t yet sure what her passion was, but her father had told her that he hoped she’d figure things out soon, or else she would be a mess when she came of age.

***

Nanette sighed gratefully as the carriage landed on the Hogwarts grounds. She let go of Louis’s arm, which she had been clutching tightly throughout the trip. Needless to say, it was practically numb.

Nanette jumped over Louis’s legs and out of the carriage, and gulped a breath of air, glad to be back on the ground and out of constricted space. Louis had no idea where his friend’s fear of constriction came from. It certainly had nothing to do with her past, however rough it had been.

Nanette tended to have people feeling sorry for her left and right. Her past was basically a sob story, and it had greatly shaped Nanette’s personality. She had grown up in a house of shouts and yells, of beatings and bruises. Her father had been a brutal man, Louis knew. He had been hot-tempered and cruel, and constantly beat Nanette’s mother. On occasion, Nanette was victim to his attacks as well.

One day, when Nanette was at her first year in Beauxbatons, her parents had gone absolutely crazy. In defending herself, Nanette’s mother accidentally killed her husband, and was sent to jail for her crime. Nanette lived with her grandmother, but it was no secret that the two didn’t get along. Nanette could never conform to “that strict, cranky old Muggle.” The incident with her parents toughened her, and earned her sympathy wherever she went.

Louis stood behind Nanette and wondered about his own tedious life. Every time he was in his best friend’s presence and remembered her history, he would feel eternal gratitude that his life had not been such a turbulent ride. Oh yes, Nanette earned sympathy from myriads of people, including Louis himself.

Headmaster Chevron led the way towards the doors of Hogwarts, where Louis could see multitudes of students in solid black robes coming their way. Nanette scoffed at the darkness of their robes. “Doesn’t it ever depress them to be wearing black all the time?” she asked huffily, and tugged at her own silk blue cloak.

They approached the huddled mass of black students, confident that their Headmaster would take care of introductions and sleeping arrangements.