The first person to climb from the Beauxbatons carriage was an elegant older woman who was quite easily the tallest and largest person that any of them had ever seen, excluding Grawp, the gamekeeper, who was, after all, a giant. This had to be Madame Maxime, the Headmistress. She wore her hair in a sleek coil, and she was dressed in black satin robes that signified that she was still in mourning for her departed fiancée, Rubeus Hagrid, who had been killed shortly before the final battle against Voldemort.
The second person to depart from the carriage was very familiar to the five friends, a girl with a long sheet flowing strawberry-blonde hair. âMARINA!â screeched Emma, running over toward her. The others followed suit. Marina Weasley, daughter of Bill and Fleur and a friend of theirs, hugged each of them in turn, with the exception of Jordan, who didnât do hugs.
âI havenât seen you all in SOOO long!â exclaimed Marina. âItâs been, what, two years, right? And wow, Ted, is that you? I almost didnât recognize you! Youâre so tall!â
âI think Madame Maximeâs still got a few inches on me,â joked Ted.
âWell, youâre looking great,â said Emma, holding her cousin at armsâ length. âFor an ugly girl like you, that is.â
This was a joke, and they all knew it. Marina, who was in her sixth year, was stunningly prettyâ”it helped that she was one-eighth veela. She had wide blue eyes and creamy ivory skin, and, like Tancred Apple, she looked like she belonged on the cover of a magazine, as opposed to a school lawn.
But the similarities between her and the soft-spoken Apple ended there. She could be rather volatile and emotional, but she was down-to-earth and outgoing as well. She and Emma in particular had always gotten along well before Marina and her parents had moved to France.
As the group caught up with Marina, the Durmstrang ship unloaded, and out climbed a neat line of students dressed far too warmly for October. Jordan, who didnât much like socializing, slipped away from the group to observe.
The headmaster of Durmstrang was a dark-haired, heavily-bearded man who didnât seem to possess the same commanding presence as most authority figures. Jordan had heard that Durmstrang had been a school for the Dark Arts until the Muggle-born Poliakoff had taken over as Headmaster, and he certainly looked like a nice person. He was just slightly pudgy, his eyes sparkled, and he was wearing with his rich furs a wristband that read âWhat Would John Lennon Do?â (of which Jordan, Beatles aficionado that he was, approved). He made his way over toward where Jordanâs father stood--Mr. Potter had arrived earlier that day-- and introduced himself.
âDmitri Poliakoff,â he said warmly in a thick accent, gripping Jordanâs fatherâs hand in a vigorous handshake. He clapped a hand on the shoulder of an angular boy standing next to him. âAnd this is my son, Vladislav. Heâs in his seventh year, so he should be free from me in just a few months.â Vladislav simply nodded seriously.
âNice to meet you both,â Mr. Potter replied. âI can already tell that this tournament should be smoother than the last one⊠though thatâs not saying much.â
Poliakoffâs eyes traveled across the landscape of Hogwarts, as though they were taking a tour without the rest of his body. They stopped, Jordan was unhappy to note, on his own face. âAh, Potter, is that young man over there yours?â
âNo,â said Jordan flatly. âIâm mine.â
Durmstrangâs headmaster laughed. âReminds me of myself as a boy. Jordan, Iâve heard so much about you. I read about you and your friends in the newspaper last year, I hear youâre a talented musician and wizard, and to top it off, youâre the top of your class?â
Jordan looked at him blankly. âIâm just the Quidditch captain, sir,â he said, and edged away from his father and Poliakoff, who were now discussing the scoring system for the Tournament. He knew he had behaved badly, and he realized that this was what a fourteen-year-old Jordan would have done. But he had made a promise to himself to change the previous year, and he just couldnât seem to live up to it. No wonder he hadnât received the Prefectâs badge. He wasnât even responsible enough to keep the promises heâd made to himself.
A feast was held that night to welcome the foreign schools and to introduce the judges. These included the headmasters, as well as three representatives from the Ministry of Magic. These included Mr. Potter, and the heads of the Department of International Magical Cooperation and the Department of Magical Games and Sports.
The Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation was Cadmus Skitesby, a rather portly man with a florid, jowly face, grey hair, and large glasses; and the Head of Department of Magical Games and Sports was a tall, slim woman with long blonde hair, slightly too much eye makeup, and, strangely, a Muggle skirt and blouse that were unflatteringly old fashioned. Her name was Evadne Schiffington.
After the judges were introduced, Professor Lupin brought out a small plain box, which he opened to display a roughly-hewn wooden goblet. But the goblet blazed with bright blue flames, which danced back and forth without harming the wooden material of the goblet. Everyone stared in awe.
âThe Goblet of Fire,â stated McGonagall solemnly.
âI wonder why they call it that,â Emma whispered sarcastically, and Haley giggled.
âStarting now, anyoneâ”age fifteen and aboveâ”who wishes to may enter the tournament. Champions will be chosen in exactly 72 hours,â McGonagall said, and if she said anything further, it was made inaudible by the crowd of people that swarmed the Goblet. Ted, always observant, noticed that one of the Beauxbatons representatives, a girl with dark curly hair, remained seated, the only one not to enter the competition.
âWell, Iâm entering,â announced Jordan, getting to his feet.
âMe, too,â said Emma.
âMe, three,â said Tyrone.
âDitto,â chirped Haley.
She looked expectantly at Ivy and Ted, who were still sitting at the Gryffindor table. âI donât really want to enter,â Ivy told her friends. âGood luck, though.â
âIf any of you gets chosen, weâll be rooting for you,â Ted added with a smile.
The other four exchanged glances then made their way up to the Goblet. It was strangely intimidating to be standing near it, knowing that they each had a chanceâ”however smallâ”to be contestants in the most legendary magical competition of all time. âLetâs put all of ours in at the same time!â Haley instructed suddenly, grabbing Tyroneâs arm as he started to reach toward the Goblet. For some reason, this sounded right to the others, and they agreed. â1âŠ2âŠ3,â counted Jordan, and with that, they all released their slips of paper.
They watched their names tumble into the fire and disappear from sight as they were swallowed by the flames.
âJordan James Potterâ
âTyrone Vincent Thomasâ
âHarriet-Lily Potterâ
âEmma Elizabeth Weasleyâ
âI hope this isnât a bad omen,â thought Jordan as he watched the fire consume his name.
âWell, thatâs that,â said Tyrone. âI guess weâll have to wait a few days for any results⊠Merlinâs thong, Iâm so nervousâŠâ
Everyone began to file out of the Great Hall, but as Ted was about to leave, Professor McGonagall stopped him. âMr. Lupin, could you please stay for a few minutes?â she asked. âWe have something we wish to discuss with you.â
âAll right,â shrugged Ted, feeling just slightly anxious. He didnât know what this was leading to, and as far as he knew, he hadnât done anything. Maybe he was in trouble for scaring those little first years back on the first day of school, though he couldnât imagine why now. As he turned back toward the Great Hall, he saw that it was totally empty, except for himself, McGonagall, and a Beauxbatons girl.
âMr. Lupin, meet Arden DuBois. Miss DuBois, meet Theodore Lupin,â McGonagall introduced them. Ted shook the Beauxbatons girlâs hand.
âNice to meet you,â he said pleasantly. She didnât return the greeting.
Arden was as small as Haley and bony-looking, with curly dark-brown hair that fell to her shoulders. She looked exhausted and ill, dark circles ringing her deep blue eyes, and her colourless cheeks were hollow. Around her neck, she wore a thick black ribbon with a blue jewel set in the front. Her fingernails, Ted noticed, were nibbled to tiny stubs. She was the one Beauxbatons girl who hadnât entered the competition.
âMiss DuBois will need to share the Shrieking Shack with you during Transformations, if you have no objections,â McGonagall informed him matter-of-factly, Arden looking exceedingly embarrassed behind her.
So she was another werewolf? Ted had never met one his age before, and was very interested to hear about her experiences. However, she didnât seem particularly willing to chat at the moment⊠of course, heâd have all of the full moons during the year for conversation, he realized.
âOh, thatâs fine with me,â Ted assured McGonagall. âItâs not like I own the shack or anything.â
McGonagall gave him a rare smile. âThank you. Now, Iâll have to ask you not to tell any of your friends about this, as youâre the only person outside the staff who knows about Miss DuBoisâs condition, and she would prefer that it stays that way.â
âOkay,â Ted agreed. So no one from Ardenâs school knew that she was a werewolf⊠he knew that that was how it had been with his father when he had been in school, but at least Remusâs three best friends had known his secret, and they supported and accompanied him during transformations. He couldnât imagine being in Ardenâs place, keeping the secret from everyone, even his friends.
âWell, thank you Mr. Lupin,â McGonagall said. âYou may leave now.â
âGoodnight,â Ted called, and proceeded up toward the Gryffindor Common Room. He realized then that he still hadnât heard Arden say a single word. She was foreign, maybe she didnât speak any English.
When he arrived in the Common Room, Haley exclaimed, âTEDWARD!â
The boy blinked. âBecause that was normal,â he said.
âYouâre lucky,â Tyrone told him. âI think Haleyâs going through a phase. When I came in, she called me âTyroonie.â Not that itâs the first nickname Iâve been called by a girlâ”â
Emma quickly changed the subject from the pet names that Tyroneâs ex-girlfriends had called him (including, but not limited to âTwinkie Lipsâ and âSugar Muffinsâ). âSo, what was keeping you, Tedward?â she asked.
Ted sat down in an armchair. âWell, uh, Madame Patilâs doing some kind of project on The Effects of Adolescence On Lycanthropy or something, which basically means she needs to watch a teenage werewolf transform. Anyway, I guess that means sheâs going to be over in the Shrieking Shack whenever I am, so you lot canât come and hang out with me then anymore.â He looked over at Ivy, who was usually the only one who came for his transformations now that he had gotten used to them. She was holding a stack of very thick books and looked rather tired, but when Tedâs eyes met hers, she smiled, if rather weakly.
âI hope you donât mind being used as a lab rat,â she sighed. âMadame Patil didnât exactly ask your permission, did she?â
âItâs okay with me. Iâll miss the company, though,â Ted replied.
He felt terrible lying to his friends, and guilt surged unpleasantly through his body. He was normally very honest, and only told small lies, like claiming he was fine when he was really feeling less than such, or insisting to his Metamorphmagus mother that her newest crazy hairstyle looked great when he actually thought it was rather stupid. True, McGonagall had told him that he wasnât allowed to tell his friends the truth about transformations, and he had both her trust and Ardenâs.
He would miss Ivy, though. They had some really interesting conversations in the wait before his transformations, about everything from the definitions of good and evil to rock music to strange dreams to theories on how Voldemort had been defeated to strange things that people did. Ivy, a shy girl normally, really opened up and was free to be herself when they were in the Shrieking Shack, away from everyone else.
âOh, well,â thought Ted. âSheâs probably really busy reading all of those books. She probably wouldnât have had time anyway.â
Three days later, all of Hogwartsâ”as well as the students representing Beauxbatons and Durmstrangâ”was gathered for the selection of the Triwizard champions. Nobody was talking much, as they were all incredibly nervous/anxious/excited/in the bathroom vomiting due to an anxiety/a combination of the above.
An extremely major exception to this rule was Haley, whose nervousness was causing her to talk even more than usual, and so rapidly and unintelligibly that even patient Ted, always a good listener, was getting a bit irked. She mentioned someone named âLeeâ at least twice, which nobody else understood. They didnât know anybody named Lee, although Jordan vaguely recalled his father mentioning a man named Lee Jordan who had been killed by Death Eaters before Voldemortâs downfall. Jordan remembered this manâs name only because his surname was the same as Jordanâs first.
Finally, McGonagall mounted the podium and made a mercifully short speech before the names of the champions were to be announced. Suddenly and without warning, the flame in the Goblet, previously an icy blue, blazed red. The students gathered in the Great Hall collectively drew their breath as a bit of singed paper flew from the Goblet in a shower of sparks.
McGonagall caught it deftly and spoke, âThe Beauxbatons Champion will be Miss Marina Ghislaine Weasley!â The Great Hall erupted into thunderous applause, especially from Marinaâs fellow Beauxbatons students, her five friends at Hogwarts, and many of the boys, who were obviously impressed by her beauty. Marina beamed as she walked onto the stage, not even betraying the slightest hint of nervousness.
âI knew it would be her!â exclaimed Emma. âItâs so cool that sheâs a champion! Hope she does better than her mum did!â
Ted cast a glance over toward the Beauxbatons table. The other students seemed disappointed and upset not to have been chosen, despite their enthusiastic reception of Marinaâ”with the exception of Arden, sitting on her own at the far end of the table and looking rather uninterested in the whole affair.
Just as the applause began to die down, the flames leaped higher and turned crimson again, spitting out another slip of parchment. âThe Durmstrang Champion,â McGonagall announced, âIs Vladislav Dmitrovich Poliakoff!â
âThatâs the Headmasterâs son,â whispered Jordan as Vladislav got up stiffly and walked toward the stage. He received vastly less applause than Marina, especially little from his own school, where he was clearly unpopular. It was rather embarrassing, and Ivy and Ted clapped especially loudly in sympathy. Vladislav, who was tall and sharp-featured with neat dark hair and a serious-looking, angular face, stood stiffly on the platform, completely eclipsed by the radiant girl standing next to him.
Then, the Goblet filled with red flames once more, and Jordan felt a cold pit develop somewhere around his stomach or his Adamâs apple, possibly both at once. He turned as white as a sheet, while Emma unconsciously gnawed a quill (not of the sugar variety), Tyrone stroked his downy upper lip anxiously, and Haley shivered with anticipation.
A slip of parchment flew from the Goblet, and even McGonagall seemed almost flustered with excitement as she turned it over to read the name scrawled on the front. âThe Hogwarts ChampionâŠââ”the friends nearly fell out of their seatsâ”âIs⊠Emma Elizabeth Weasley.â
The screams and applause from the Gryffindor table were deafening as Emma was engulfed by a crowd of her fellow students. âEMMA! I CANâT BELIEVE IT! THIS IS SO AWESOME!â screeched Haley, hollering in her friendâs ear as she jumped up and down, hugging her.
âWell done!â roared Tyrone, thumping Emmaâs back. âYouâre going to win this, I know it!â
âHogwarts champion!â exclaimed Ivy, her pale face flushed with excitement. âYouâre the youngest one in the contest, too!â
Ted grinned and gave the new Hogwarts champion a vigorous high-five. âYouâre going to blow everyone away!â he told her. âWe all know how scary you can get when youâre determined.â
Emma extricated herself from the tangle of people and walked up the aisle toward the stage, beaming. Her heart was racing madly and she felt as though everything was moving in slow motion. This had to be a dream⊠it couldnât possibly be real⊠She, Emma Weasley, was the Hogwarts Champion! She was in the Triwizard Tournament!
When she reached the stage, she did something extremely unexpected. Passing by the staff table, she embraced her mother, the usually reserved Professor Granger-Weasley, in front of the whole school.
âEmma⊠youâve always been an incredible girl,â whispered her mother, her eyes shining. âYou never, ever cease to amaze me. I am so proud of you! Wait until your father hears about this!â
Emma took her place on the stage, staring out at the sea of faces around her. She strained her eyes and saw Haley, still bouncing up and downâ”easy to spot in any crowdâ”and the light from the enchanted ceiling reflecting off Tyroneâs ridiculously shiny white teeth as he grinned at her. Peering around in that general vicinity, she saw a rope of long blonde hairâ”Ivy, she thoughtâ”just visible from behind quite a tall person, who had to be Ted. She couldnât quite make out Jordan, though she knew he was sitting behind Ivy, just out of sight.
Her friends were the best anyone could hope for, she loved her parents, and she was quite sure that she was one of the luckier girls alive. It was a sappy thought, and Emma Weasley was a strictly sap-free personâ”but she was too happy to care.
Jordanâs mind was blank and his body was completely frozen. He was too shocked to move, speak, or think anything but one thoughtâ”Emma was the Hogwarts champion. Emma. Heâd been almost positive that if the champion was someone he knew, it would be him⊠hearing Emmaâs name was like a bad dream.
He had no chance of winning now⊠or of ever competing, as heâd have graduated long before the next one rolled around. And heâd been so sure that it would be he who was applauded and congratulated as he strode proudly toward the platform. Funny, he seemed to have an over-inflated ideal of his eligibility for so many things. Heâd had the same misguided belief about prefect badges; heâd thought that he was special, talented, different from âeveryone elseââŠ
âWhat I really am,â said a suspiciously Giorgi-like voice in the back of his head, âIs an arrogant, self-absorbed prat.â
He tried to be happy for Emma, who was after all his cousin and a close friend, but he couldnât quite manage it. Iâm too much of an arrogant, self-absorbed prat to be anything but a sore loser, he thought before slinking up the stairs, away from the crowd.
The first thing he did, simply by habit, was to check his inbox in the Muggle Studies classroom. Sure enough, there was a letter from Giorgi.
To: sgtjpepper@magicworks.co.uk
Room: rainbowbrite04@interweb.co.uk
Subj: Poor thing!
Message:
WHAT?!?! YOUâVE GOT NO T.V.S IN YOUR SCHOOL?!?!?!? You poor, poor thing!!!! How do you SURVIVE?!?!?!
Congrats on being captain, I wish I was. Ours is horrible, not as bad as my maths teacher (or your chemistry teacher), but then, the same could be said for Jack the Ripper. In any case, our football captain keeps making us do CRUNCHES!!!! Like, a zillion of them, without a break. Itâs INSANNNE!!
Thanks for the offer on maths tutoring, but youâd probably just confuse me more, Mr. Smarty-pants.
Please, tell me about the contest!!! School is SO. BORING. Itâs basically the same everywhere I go, except with different accents. No Scottish ones so far, though. My friends Perri, Sheila, Greg, and I rigged the PA today with a machine that made the headmasterâs voice sound like Daffy Duck. We didnât get caught!!!
Write ya later,
Giorgi.
P.S. What do you mean? Whatâs wrong with my punctuation?!
Jordan pushed the reply key and typed very quickly, punching the keys almost violently.
To: rainbowbrite04@interweb.co.uk
From: sgtjpepper@magicworks.co.uk
Subj: Re: You poor thing!
Message:
Hello, Giorgi.
I donât really mind so much about not having a TVâ”after all, I have my laptop computer, and I can do practically anything I want with it. Itâs definitely my favourite invention ever, and possibly my best friend. It must be awful to have a sadist for a football captain⊠although I canât say I wonât be equally brutal.
Iâm writing to apologize for being such an arrogant, self-absorbed prat, bragging about how Iâm good at maths when itâs not your strongest subject. After all, youâre not bragging to me about making so many friends so quickly (I could never do that), or about rigging the PA, an insanely brave (and ridiculously foolish) thing that I would never accomplish in my wildest dreams.
About the contest, my cousin Emma is going to represent our school. I wasnât picked. I have to admit, I feel horrible about not qualifying (see previous note about my being an arrogant, self-absorbed prat.) My father went to my school when he was my age, and heâs a bit of a legend around the school now. He was football captain AND won this same contest.
In any case, when people meet me, they always say, âYou must be Harry Potterâs son.â Iâve always wanted to do something that actually makes me stand out⊠which Iâll never accomplish sitting here writing an email.
Sorry about the whining,
Jordan
P.S. What isnât wrong with your punctuation?
Jordan sighed as he hit the âsendâ button. He didnât know why he had just said everything that was on his mind to Giorgiâ”he never told anyone how he felt. He shielded himself with Occlumency at all times, and was as elusive as possible when it came to emotions. Maybe it was because she only knew him and not his father, unlike everyone else he knew. He could get a fair, unbiased response from her.
He felt slightly jealous of the bold girl who dressed anyway she wanted, despite being teased by her teachers, the girl who had changed her Headmasterâs voice to that of a cartoon duck that Jordan had never heard of, the girl who had apparently made several friends, while the only friend that Jordan had ever made for himself without everyone introducing them was⊠Giorgi herself.
âSheâs a better Gryffindor than I am,â he thought. âAnd sheâs a Muggle!â
âHi, Lee. Guess what? EMMAâS THE HOGWARTS CHAMPION IN THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT!â wrote Haley. âSoâs my other cousin, Marina.â
âGood for them, then! Only fifteen years old, huh? But too bad you werenât picked.â
âWell, I felt a bit bad for about a second, but it wasnât like I had much of a chance anyway. Besides, I always thought it might be Emma, anyway, so Iâm not jealous. Sheâll do an awesome job. So long as itâs not Jordan, Iâm cool with it.â
âYou know, thatâs really amazing, Haley. Not many people are that good friends⊠I mean, even the nicest of people are usually more selfish than that.â
This was one of the best compliments that Haley had ever gotten. She was still smiling when Emma burst into the dormitory, wrapped in a Hogwarts flag and looking happily dazed. At this, Haleyâs smile widened. âYes, EMMMMMM-Aâs the CHAMMMP-ION, my FRIEEE-ENDS!â she sang loudly.
Emma sort of dove onto her bed. âI canât believe this, Haley!â she exclaimed in a squeal that was usually only adopted by Haley herself. âIâm so excited.â
Haley looked over at her brave best friend and saw that her dark brown eyes were shining with something that wasnât makeup. âEmmaâŠâ she said, âAre those tears in your eyes?â
âShut up,â replied Emma. âIâve exerted myself a lot today, and my eyeballs are merely perspiring.â