“Merlin’s pyjamas!” shouted Emma, bolting out of bed immediately. “I can’t believe it,” she grumbled. “I was just having the best dream about a world made of jellies, and you just totally spoiled it.”
When she emerged onto the Quidditch pitch later that day for the first challenge, she looked ready for combat, her long wavy hair was tied up in a knot and her wand firmly placed in a holster she’d added to her belt.
The other two champions looked the same as always, Vladislav in his Durmstrang robes and Marina wearing extremely baggy jeans under her robes that looked like she’d stolen them from an older brother that didn’t exist. But all three champions wore the same expression. It was one of mixed confidence and determination, fear and nervousness.
This is it, thought Emma, her heart pounding. This is the start of it all. From this point… I could go down in history… or I could humiliate myself in front of hundreds of people.
Ivy breathed the fresh air deeply. She hadn’t been outside in a long time what with all of her studying, and she’d forgotten how pleasant it was. She had forced herself to take a break from her work and enjoy watching Emma compete, and she was looking forward to it. She scanned the stands for Ted, whose height and garish red-and-gold top hat made him conspicuous in any crowd, and made her way over toward him.
He was laughing about something, his shaggy-haired head tilted back and his light blue eyes crinkled up with mirth. But sitting next to and smiling up at him was a girl Ivy didn’t recognize at all. She was from Beauxbatons, judging by her powder-blue robes and French accent, and she was small with dark curly hair.
Ted turned his head casually and noticed Ivy. “Hi!” he called, waving madly like a five-year-old. “Want to sit down?” He patted the bench next to him.
Ivy’s eyes flicked over to the French girl, who for some reason looked frightened and upset by this suggestion. “Oh, no, I’m just stopping by to say hi,” Ivy replied airily, and made her way off across the stands.
She saw Tyrone Thomas in the centre of a gaggle of friends and admirers on the opposite side of the pitch, and Haley was seated with several other girls, who appeared to be happily discussing shoes. But Jordan was on his own on the other side of the field, and Ivy sat down next to her brother. “Hello,” she greeted him quietly.
He looked surprised to see her. “Ivy! You’re the last person I expected to see here. I don’t believe I’ve even seen you outside the castle for weeks.”
Ivy tossed her long blonde braid over her shoulder. “I couldn’t miss Emma’s first task to study.”
The atypically relaxed lines of Jordan’s face tightened, and his expression grew closed”this was the Jordan that she knew. “You’d do a great job in the tournament, too,” she said. “You know that. And you know I’d skip studying to see you, too.” This was far bolder than usual for Ivy; she must have gotten it from Ted after spending so much time with him.
And now Ted was… she shook the thought from her head. Jordan’s features relaxed again, but not completely, and Ivy changed the subject. “So, how’s your Quidditch team doing?”
“Not quite the same without Emma. We’ve got Ophelia Wood”her sister was the keeper last year”replacing Emma, but she doesn’t have the same chemistry with the rest of the team,” explained Jordan. He continued to ramble on about Quidditch, which Ivy didn’t understand in the slightest, but she nodded politely and interjected ‘oh’ and ‘I see’ at appropriate times. She liked seeing her brother happy, and in her opinion, this didn’t happen enough”too often, even now, he was off in his own world.
Did her friends feel like they were losing her when she spend so much time on her studies? Was that why…
Her weighty thoughts were interrupted by McGonagall. “Welcome to the first task of the Triwizard Tournament!” she announced. “As always, the champions have not been told any details about the first challenge, and so are as unaware as you are about the task that lies before them.” She held her wand aloft.
“I am going to send three balls of light into the forest”red for Emma Weasley, green for Mr. Poliakoff, and blue for Marina Weasley. The task is to follow these balls of light throughout the Forbidden Forest, and not to lose track, whatever may block your path. The first to emerge with their ball of light will receive the highest number of points.”
She glanced over at the three champions, then flicked her wand, and three balls of light burst forth. They zipped toward a door to the Quidditch stadium that led into the forest, and hovered there until McGonagall called, “GO!”
The champions certainly did ‘go’--- they were out of the arena before the audience knew it. Ivy watched the three balls of light disappear into the forest, the champions hot on their figurative tails.
“Let the games begin,” said Jordan solemnly, leaning back in his seat.
Emma couldn’t believe that the first task could be something so stupid. Really, running after a ball of light, of all things? Jordan would be good at this, she thought to herself. He’s the one who spends his time trying to catch a crummy little ball, ace Seeker that he is.
She was more nervous than she let on. Emma had only entered the Forbidden Forest twice before--after all, it was called the ‘Forbidden’ Forest for a reason--and she had encountered danger each time. The first time had been in her first year, when she and her friends had saved Ivy from a hungry and irate group of Acromantulas that were trying to devour her”and Emma had gotten knocked unconscious after tripping over a log while in a long invisibility cloak. The second time had been the previous year, when she and her friends had run after Jordan into the forest and ended up locked in combat with Draco Malfoy, one of his servants, and several Dementors.
A twig snapped, and a bush rustled, just like in the movies. She tensed herself, hoping that whatever had made the sound didn’t like to eat Triwizard champion sandwiches for tea… it sounded like something rather big was coming…
“Oy, freckle-face!” shrieked a nasal, distinctly Cockney-accented voice, and before Emma had time to react, the largest ferret that she’d seen in her entire life had propelled itself out from behind a bush and chomped very painfully on her ankle.
“Great, I thought I was done being attacked by oversized ferrets when we got rid of Malfoy,” she muttered, wincing in pain and trying to shake the ferret off. She vaguely recalled from some distant Care of Magical Creatures lesson that these giant, rude ferrets were called Jarveys, and that they were among the most irritating creatures known to mankind. “Listen,” she said exasperatedly, “You don’t want to mess with me. I’m the best hexer in my school.”
“You’re telling porkies,” the Jarvey mocked thickly through a delectable mouthful of Emma’s leg. “I bet you’re””
“IMMOBILUS!” Stowing her wand back in her belt with a smirk, Emma kicked the motionless animal out of her way and chased after her ball of light. Thanks to the Jarvey, she wasn’t as close to the ball as she had been at first, and she couldn’t run as fast as usual due to her aching ankle, but she hadn’t lost the ball, and that gave her hope.
She saw a long sheet of red-gold hair whip out of sight, accompanied by a loud shout of “Stupefy!”
“Marina, be careful if you have to come this way!” called Emma. “There are Jarveys around here, and they’re annoying as the plague.”
“Thanks!” called her cousin, “Though I don’t think the word ‘annoying’ does the plague justice.”
Hoping that Marina would heed her advice, she dashed on after the ball of light, limping slightly.
“HOOLOOVOO!” sang a high, clear voice out of nowhere. “HOOLOOVOO!”
That is a seriously catchy song, thought Emma. Somebody should definitely market it. I wonder where it’s coming from.
“HOOLOOVOO! HOOLOOVOO!”
She had never heard anything quite like it, and it was absolutely marvelous. Somehow, this fact reminded her of bananas, and she suddenly realized that maybe they would taste better with the peel left on. She had no way of knowing whether or not this was true, as she’d never tried unpeeled bananas before.
“There are no bananas in the sky! There are no bananas in the sky!” she sang softly to herself, then belted out, “There’s a sun and a moon and a coconut cream pie, but there are NOOO BANANAS IN THE SKYYYY!”
Speaking of fruit, the ball of light that she was chasing looked a lot like an orange… but it wasn’t orange. Were there any oranges that weren’t orange? Like, blue ones? Which came first anyway, the fruit name or the colour name ‘orange?’
“HOOLOOVOO!”
Emma looked up to see a magnificent bird sitting in a tall tree. It was as blue as an orange, which meant that it wasn’t at all. Well, in any case, the bird was a brilliant shade of electric tangerine somewhat reminiscent of Giorgi’s hair, and it had majestic, sweeping plumes. It was obviously the source of the beautiful song.
“You look like an Archibald,” Emma said out loud. “I will call him Archibald, and he will be mine, and he will be my Archibald. I will hug him and squeeze him and call him Archibald. Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha.”
“HOOLOOVOO!” replied Archibald.
Emma giggled to herself as Vladislav raced by. He looked terribly funny, racing madly after his ball of light, puffing like a steam engine and with both fingers stuffed in his ears as a shocking pink bird flew after him, singing “HOOLOOVOO!” Really, it was almost as if the Durmstrang champion was running away from the adorable little… Fwooper… oh no…
“The Fwooper’s song, though at first enjoyable, eventually drives the listener to insanity,” Emma remembered, pulling the passage out of a corner in her brain that did not seem quite as hazy as the rest of it.
“AAARGH, NOOO!” shouted a male voice. It had to be Vladislav! Emma froze, listening for danger, but nothing greeted her ears but silence.
She hoped that he was all right, but she didn’t have time to check on him now. She had to get away from Archib”the Fwooper” before her brains were permanently fried.
“HOOLOOV””
“SILENCIO!”
The Fwooper opened and closed its beak several times, but nothing came out, and it slumped over with a rather wounded expression.
Emma ran as fast as her Jarvey-bitten legs would carry her, aware that the ball of light was evading her grasp. She had entered the heart of the forest now, where it was so dark and densely wooded that it was hard to make out her surroundings. But she chased her ball of light as it glowed against the dim landscape, and she followed it as if it was her guide through this strange place. Until… it was hovering in air, in one spot.
Excellent, a chance to catch up! she thought happily, racing toward it.
She suddenly felt a very strange sensation sweep over her. It was as if the ground beneath her feet had decided to go on a holiday, and before she knew it, she was plummeting downward, and fast… and then the ground reappeared, much quicker and harder than before.
“Who turned out the Lumos?” was Emma’s last conscious thought before the world faded into blackness around her.
Emma’s eyelids flickered open, and a blurry face swirled into view. “Are you God?” she mumbled blearily.
“Not exactly,” replied Madame Patil, the matron, coming into focus. “Lie back down, dear, you’ve had a nasty concussion. I mean, what else can be expected from falling into a ditch and hitting your head on a rock? And this Triwizard Tournament is supposed to be safe?”
“Well, what fun is a risk-free tournament?” asked Emma.
Madame Patil shook her head, causing her long black braid to dance down her back. “Emma Weasley, you’re crazy. I suppose you have to be to be a Triwizard Champion, but still…” She gestured over toward the next bed. “This young man had almost the exact same accident that you did.”
Emma glanced over to see Vladislav, fast asleep or unconscious in the next bed. Sleeping, he looked strangely different”without his usual serious expression of eyebrows furrowed in concentration and lips tight, he looked years younger, and somehow vulnerable. Emma snorted to see that stacked on her bedside table was a mountain of candy and get-well cards. Conversely, Vladislav’s table was bare, except for a monstrously thick book entitled “Harry Potter: The Story of the Living Legend.”
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty’s awake!” shouted a deep and far too loud voice. Emma grimaced and clutched her aching head as Tyrone, Haley, and Ted bounded into the hospital wing. Madame Patil hushed her nephew and bustled off to try to force a disgusting-looking potion down an ill second year’s throat.
“It’s been two days,” Haley told her cousin. “We were really freaked out, but Madame Patil said that you were okay. Sorry that there aren’t more of us to see you, only we didn’t think you’d be up yet. Jordan’s training the replacement Chaser for his Quidditch team, and Ivy’s””
“Studying?” Emma finished with a smirk, and Haley nodded affirmatively. The patient propped herself up with a pillow. “So, it really has been two whole days since the first challenge?”
“Yeah.” Ted sat down at the foot of her bed. “You and Vladislav tied for second. Marina made it out of the forest, but when you two didn’t for awhile, your Uncle Harry figured something had gone wrong, and he went in after you two. You actually were going to score higher than Vladislav because you were closer to finishing than he was, but the two other Ministry judges”Skitesby and Schiffington”had some weird grading scale, so it evened out.”
“I don’t know what their problem is,” Tyrone added bitterly. “I mean, all right, Evadne Schiffington is not too hard on the eyes, I’ll admit that. She dresses like someone’s Muggle granny, true, but she really does have nice”” Emma glared and Tyrone said quickly in a small voice, “What I was saying was, she seriously messed up your score.”
Emma smiled. “Well, I really appreciate you lot dropping by,” she said. “Is there anything else I missed while I was dead to the world?”
Ted shrugged. “Well, McGonagall hinted that the champions should find out as much as possible about Hogwarts before the next task,” he mentioned.
Emma pumped her fist victoriously. “Ha! I have an advantage, then! This is my fifth year here, and Marina and Vladislav haven’t even been to Hogwarts until now!”
At the same time that Emma uttered his name, Vladislav’s eyes flickered open, and he said in a sleepy, garbled voice, “I’ll have three lumps, please.”
“Join the club, Vladislav!” Emma yawned.
“My daughter,” exclaimed Ron at the Auror office, preparing to refill his mug with coffee for the umpteenth time, “has entered the Forbidden Forest three times”all for a good reason”and she’s gotten knocked unconscious two times out of those three. What does that tell you?”
Harry assumed that this was a rhetorical question and simply said, “Makes me think of my Tournament days… narrowly escaping death about as often as I breathed… but, then, I guess it was good that I got used to that because it got me this job. I can see why you’re so worried, though. I mean, I’ve got two nieces in the Tournament, and somehow, that’s almost as scarier than having to compete myself.”
He watched his friend toss down the cup of coffee in a single gulp and shook his head with an expression of both awe and revulsion. He himself had never really liked coffee (an unfortunate incident in Madame Puddifoot’s at the tender age of fifteen hadn’t helped), preferring tea or butterbeer, but Ron seemed to live on the stuff.
“But as worried as I am about Emma and Marina, there’s another matter on my mind”Apple,” said Harry. Ron nodded grimly and raised his empty coffee mug in agreement.
“That speech he gave after the first task was definitely a classic,” he noted. “Percy’s a good minister, but he hasn’t got a way with words like Apple. ‘Course, Percy doesn’t make empty promises to ‘make the country the best it can be,’ either.”
Harry recalled Apple’s speech all too well…
It was held in the stadium after the First Task, for everyone who was interested. Although many of the younger students cared less about elections than they did about the average yearly profit of Welsh celery farmers, several watched the speech for quite a different reason than an interest in political leadership. The truth was, Apple was extremely handsome, and his youth and vivacity made him even more attractive to girls and women everywhere.
And after mounting his podium, he said in a clear, carrying voice just one word: ‘Mudbloods.’
There was an instant uproar. Hermione almost fell out of her seat, and a seventh-year Gryffindor boy had to be physically restrained to be kept from charging onto the team and hexing Apple. But Apple remained calm.
“It’s a hideous, disgusting, and all-too-commonly-used word, and just as hideous and disgusting is the attitude of the people who chose to use it. The number of pureblooded wizards is extremely small”in fact, no one is actually pureblooded, since we can all be traced back to non-magical ancestors; magic had to originate somewhere. But in any case, everyone saw last year what a deranged mind prejudiced toward Muggles could do when Draco Malfoy was recruiting followers and terrorizing the country. So many innocent people were harmed, and some of my closest friends were killed. I don’t know about you, but I can’t stand for that.
“Did you know that there is no law prohibiting discrimination based on heritage? If I’m elected Minister of Magic, that will change. I promise that I, Tancred Llewellyn Apple, will make sure that Muggles and Muggle-borns are treated fairly, and I will do all in my power to stop discrimination. But you can start now. You can help change wizarding Britain. Just don’t judge based on bloodlines, keep an open mind, vote for me, and I’ll do my best. Thank you.”
It was the kind of thing that was often labeled ‘short but sweet,’ and there was thunderous applause, although several people, such as Charybdis Nott, looked rather murderous and refused to applaud.
Hermione turned to Harry and said, “Really, I don’t know what you had against Apple. You made him out to be some sort of a dunderhead, and you and Ron are always making jokes about him, but that was an excellent speech. It’s really about time that someone cracked down on Muggle discrimination.”
“Hermione, he can definitely give good speeches, I’ll give him that. But he’s making promises he can’t keep, and what’s more, he’s not a very good magician. He doesn’t really understand magic theory that well, which could cause problems if there was serious trouble.” He had tried to be sensitive because Hermione was, after all, Muggle-born, but Harry was also a very stubborn man by nature, and he didn’t want to admit that he could have been wrong about pretty-boy Apple.
Hermione smiled. “Harry, you know what? I think you’re jealous,” she told him. And as she was also a very stubborn woman, she remained steadfast in this belief.
Ron shook his head slowly as Harry finished recounting this tale. “Hermione,” he said in a low voice. “First Lockhart, then Krum, then McLaggen, now Apple… what’s wrong with that woman?”
Harry grinned. “So you think that her taste in men in bad?”
Ron blinked, seeming to realize that he had just insulted himself. “With friends like these…” he muttered, then trailed off. “I’m going to go drown my sorrows in coffee.”
Professor Blaise Zabini appeared to be in a rather fouler mood than usual, if that was even possible. His black eyes were harder and colder than iron, and his lips were curled back from his bared teeth in a snarl.
“Sit,” he commanded laconically as Emma entered the classroom, her first class since the Triwizard Tournament. “Well, Miss Weasley, after your dismal performance in the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, I can only hope that your injury knocked some sense into you. Hopefully, you won’t prove me wrong with your Forgetfulness Potion. You should know the recipe; I’m assuming your concussion didn’t give you amnesia, as in that case, you wouldn’t be needing a Forgetfulness Potion at all.”
“What’s his problem?” Emma asked darkly, taking a seat between Haley and Tyrone.
“Don’t think he liked Tancred Apple’s speech,” Ted told her, leaning toward her. “Also… I think he really wants Hogwarts to win the Triwizard Tournament, and this is his way of pressuring you into doing your best.”
“Yeah, and I heard he seriously hates Durmstrang’s Potions teacher, Madame Malinkovsky,” added Tyrone. “They, like, met up at some potions conference in Germany years ago, and Madame Malinkovsky humiliated him in front of the whole group. My Aunt Padma told me”she was at the conference, too, since she’s a Healer, and””
“THOMAS!” roared Zabini, who had been busy breathing down the neck of one Anatoly Capshaw, Slytherin prefect. Zabini really had to be in a bad mood when he was being horrible to members of his own house. “Are you discussing potions with Miss Weasley?”
“Actually, yes, sir,” Tyrone replied in his silk-smooth voice. “We--”
“Love potions do not count,” snarled the Potions master.
Tyrone’s dark skin flushed maroon. “Professor, we were actually discussing the merits of Durmstrang. I heard they really have some great teachers… in fact, their potions teacher is supposed to be especially good”have you met?”
Zabini’s eyes became angry slits. “Five points from Gryffindor,” he hissed, and the Gryffindor students made indignant cries of protest. “Yes, the Durmstrang potions teacher is very competent in her subject,” he said smoothly. “And the Durmstrang Triwizard champion, Mr.Vladislav Poliakoff, has learnt his lessons well from her. However, there are many areas in which she lacks expertise.”
“Bet you ten Galleons that she turned Zabini down for a date,” whispered Tyrone.
“Detention, Thomas,” spat the Potions master, striding over to resume insulting Anatoly Capshaw. “Do not hold personal conversations in my class. Mr. Capshaw, I can only hope that your plans for the future do not include potion-making?”
Before the prefect had time to reply, Zabini added, “I nearly forgot to mention this, but for the next few days, your Heads of House will be discussing career options with you, so please think of some possible careers in which you might… cope, if not excel. Mr. Capshaw, as I am your head of house, I am telling you now to spare you the trouble of researching the requirements of a career in potions.”
“Even with the tournament, classes are the same as always,” Emma thought glumly.
“Hey, Lee,” Haley wrote in her journal that night.
“Hello,” Lee replied cheerfully. “Is Emma all right? You haven’t written since after the first Triwizard Task when you said your dad was going into the forest to check on her.”
“She had a concession or whatever it’s called, but she’s okay now.”
“A concussion, maybe?”
“Yeah, that. Sorry, I’m kind of distracted. See, we have career advice in a few days, and it’s bothering me,” confessed Haley.
“Oh, Merlin, not career advice. I remember my consultation with Professor McGonagall… total nightmare. In any case, what do you want to be?”
Haley hesitated. “See, that’s the thing. To be honest, I’ve always wanted to be an actress.”
“Really?”
“Laugh all you want,” Haley wrote bitterly. “I know a lot of people say they want to be a star, but it actually means a lot to me. I’m serious. Ever since Jordan dragged me to see some Shakespeare festival six years ago, it’s been my dream to go onstage… I want to play Hamlet!”
Lee’s words appeared rather later than usual, and Haley assumed that the diary had been digesting her information. “I’m not laughing”I think that’s cool.”
“Aren’t you going to tell me that Hamlet was a man?” demanded Haley.
There was another pause, and then Lee replied, “Well, it’s acting, isn’t it? I don’t think it would be as fun to just play people exactly like you. If you’re so sure, then just tell Professor G.W. that that’s what you want to do. You’ll rock.”
“I think I will,” Haley wrote, and she couldn’t help but smile. Her career consultation session would be dramatic in more ways than one.