A quill in her hand,
And watches the champions’ eyes.
The task is to claim,
A bird through the flame.
A phoenix to bring them their prize.
For Beauxbatons’ Jeunefleur
It all becomes a blur,
As fire scorches his hair.
And Grindelwald shouts,
As the phoenix breaks out,
Of the cage he had dropped on its lair.
Victoire enters the ring,
And begins to sing,
A song of astonishing charm.
The phoenix replies,
In kind as it flies,
Around her, and then the flames calm.
“She’s done it!” they yell.
Victoire has done well.
And Lavender has her story.
The first task is done.
The Weasley girl’s won,
But there’s two more until she gets glory.
She becomes the day's news,
And all have their views,
On this girl with courage and grace.
So clear the front page.
Give Victoire centre stage.
She is holding her own in the race.
If she should succeed,
Perhaps they’ll take heed,
Of something that’s never come up.
They have erred in this game,
So they should change the name,
And compete in the Triwitches Cup.