A/N:
Hello my wonderful readers! Yes, I AM alive. I'm so sorry for not posting in so long. I've been overrun by plot bunnies and real life lately. However, in an attempt to get back into writing seriously, I've started to go through some of my older stories. Many of you might remember this story being posted before. I took it down some time ago because I hated what an implausible hack job it was. However, I found it amongst my other story files and thought it had potential. As a result, I've recently given it a pretty big makeover and so am posting it for you. I plan on doing the same for other stories of mine. I've got a bit of chapter two written up and it is my plan to post it before the month ends.
I'm sorry if some of my spellings of places and things is off. I'm honestly a bit out of practice here. And British readers, please excuse my American-ness if it shows my ignorance in how some British terminology is used.
For all readers: Constructive criticism, questions, and thoughts are greatly appreciated. Flames, however, are not. That being said, enjoy the show!
Jaci Potter and the Glorified Sippy Cup
Chapter One: The Opening Salvo
"What are you waiting for? Get up there, Jacintha," Hermione Granger hissed lowly as the headmaster called out the unexpected fourth name for the third time in a row.
"Jacintha Potter?" It was Halloween night and, shock of all shocks, Jacintha, "Jaci, thank you very much," found herself in another situation that left her hating the day more than she had the year before. Her name had just come out of the Goblet of Fire, marking her as a fourth contestant. At the first voicing of her name, she had been furious. However, as she stood up from her seat at the Gryffindor table and started towards the front of the hall, Jaci found herself passing straight from furious to livid. Were it not for the hall full of students, domestic and foreign alike, she might have allowed herself to pass all the way to bloody raging. As hateful looks from all over the hall burned into her, she thought she might just move onto raging anyway. Halfway down the aisle, students from all four tables, all three schools, and of all ages began booing, hissing, and jeering.
"She's a cheat!" shouted a Ravenclaw furiously. Jaci thought it might be Marietta Edgecomb, a girl a year above her.
"Attention whore!" a Slytherin spat. Theodore Nott, if she wasn't mistaken.
"Ve vill not stand for this!" a Durmstrang girl snarled.
"What ees zis? Merde!" a Beauxbatons boy cursed.
"Traitor!" Ron shouted from behind her.
"Glory hound!" Ernie McMillan, one of Jaci's classmates, snarled as she passed. Didn't the sheeple that made up the wizarding population have better things to do than jump to conclusions? At least she knew now that bleating syndrome wasn't simply a British pandemic. How could a Muggle-raised fourteen-year-old girl have possibly tricked an ancient magical artifact into spewing out a fourth name? Even if she had allowed her carefully cultivated masks to slip, let these sheep see who she really was and what she was capable of, it would still be obvious that this was magic she could never have performed. Stupid bloody sippy cup, Jaci thought angrily, not giving a damn the goblet looked nothing like a toddler's drinking glass. As far as she was concerned, that's all the majority of wizards she knew were in many ways. Big, overgrown toddlers. So how could their precious goblet be anything more than a giant sippy cup?
But her masks had stayed in place; she had made sure of that. So the assertions of the students around her were made even more ludicrous based on what they had seen of her. Save for her inevitable exploits, also known as Dumbles's little tests, at the end of each year Jaci had rather easily fallen into the bracket of mediocrity. But even if she had kept to the top of the low standards of Hogwarts, it wouldn't matter. Most of the western European magic schools, except perhaps Beauxbatons and a couple of lesser-known day schools, were the world's worst in the international rankings. As far as Jaci and her truest circle of friends were concerned Hogwarts was the bottom of the dung heap. It had been great, once, until idiots like Fudge-For-Brains and Bumblemore took over. On one hand, Jaci mourned for the grand old school which had been attended by Potters for centuries, perhaps even since the school's founding. However, on the other hand, she knew well it wasn't her job to fix it. She was fourteen and in need of a good education, one she certainly wasn't getting at Hogwarts.
As the walk to the front dragged on, Jaci allowed her mind to think back to her childhood. When her parents had been killed, she had been sent off to live with her aunt and uncle. To her good fortune, she had grown up in a loving household where her gifts had been explained early on, further details being revealed as she aged. It was a lucky thing that her aunt and uncle had taken her in so willingly. Jaci was well aware that they might not have taken her appearance so well. Had the aunt she had been dropped on been the Petunia Dursley of just a few years previous, her childhood would not have been so pleasant. According to her aunt, anyway, who had said as much when she had explained the rift between she and Jaci's mother and how it had mended at Lily's Wedding and later her own.
Growing up, her aunt and uncle had been almost like parents. Dudley was definitely like her brother, annoying as he could be sometimes. From an early age, her aunt and uncle had expected the best out of her. And she had given them exactly that. As she grew older, her aunt revealed more and more of the magical world to her. This all led up to visiting Diagon Alley for her eighth birthday. There, she had been taken to Gringotts and her uncle and the goblins had discussed her finances. After that, she had practically dragged them all to the largest book store in the alley, purchasing a wide variety of tomes on several topics so as to get multiple perspectives.
It was funny, she thought, that she had met four of her five best friends in that alley. The fifth was Dudley, naturally. That day, hidden in the shelves, she had made her first magical friend. With chin-length brown hair, flashing hazel eyes, and an angular face, Pansy Parkinson hadn't been very warm at first. In fact, she'd been downright abrasive. She and Jaci had begun trading barbs resulting in an odd but beautiful friendship. Over the next three years, the girls owled each other nearly constantly. So much so, in fact, that Jaci was taken to the alley to purchase her own on her ninth birthday.
It had been then she'd met Neville. Ran in to him, to be more accurate. Really, they'd run into each other. He'd been so sweet and shy, stammering his apologies. He looked like he needed a friend. Soon enough, he was brought in on her and Pansy's letter-writing loop.
She hadn't met Blaise Zabini until she was being fitted for Hogwarts robes. He had been on her left, Draco Malfoy on her right. After a less-than-polite comment from Malfoy, Blaise had shut him down in nothing flat before Jaci could even form a single syllable. It was a beautiful friendship from then on.
Last was Luna. They had met in the apothecary before Jaci's second year. In a way, they'd sensed kindred spirits in one another. Really, there was something "other" about both of them. And they knew it. Jaci with her dreams, Luna with her ability to see the unseen. After starting Hogwarts, Luna had been bullied by the older claws at first for her oddities. That was, of course, until the rest of the "hex brigade," as they called themselves, put a few of the worst offenders into the hospital wing.
Luna had come up with the name for their group. Though there were six of them, Dudley included, only five attended Hogwarts. But it was a play off the number six, a joke which nobody else got because of their outright dismissal of Dudley. Most wizards conveniently forgot Jaci had a cousin, or a Muggle aunt and uncle, or anything less than magical in the first place.
Though the hex brigade constituted her dearest friends, Jaci certainly couldn't show it as far as Blaise and Pansy went, them being Slytherin and all. And a friendship with a Ravenclaw wasn't ideal either in the eyes of most in the lion house. It had been something they had all decided on before Hogwarts, even Luna when she joined up. It would be best, safest even, to show the world what they wanted them to see. In Pansy, they saw a slobbering Draco fan girl with a hatred for anything less than pure. In Blaise the aloof, half-Italian loner. Luna the loony, Neville the bumbling nitwit, and Jacintha Potter, Gryffindor Golden Girl. The only one who never had to hide, being non-magical, was Dudley.
Really, they had simply taken the worst aspects of their own personalities and magnified them for the world to see. Though Pansy was all right now, she had certainly been a blood snob when she and Jaci had first met. It had taken many owls and a bit of time to bring her around. She still had her moments, though. Her parents had no clue of their daughter's blood-traitorous ways. Essentially, she showed herself to be the kind of person she would have grown up as if not for the Hex Brigade. And Blaise would've been a loner otherwise, most likely. He wasn't much for talking, more for quiet contemplation and plotting. Luna's insanity was mostly a shell to filter out the unworthy. All Neville had to do was remember being eight years old with no friends and an overbearing grandmother breathing fire down his neck.
And Jaci, well, she just molded herself to expectations of the world around her. She was the hero, the Quiddich star, the perfect Gryffindor. But this was the last straw. She caught the gaze of everyone in the Hex Brigade, each of whom nodded and smiled ever-so-slightly. No longer would they hide. No longer would their masks remain in place. They had to break free now or else court the possibility of misery and death.
Although her other friends, Ron, Hermione, and the like were made while she enveloped herself in the Gryffindor ideology, she still felt them to be good ones for the most part. Having no deep friends other than Dudley until she'd met Pansy, she had no desire to throw a good one away. But if they showed themselves not to be, well, all bets were off. From his own angry shout, Jaci had to concede that Ronald Weasley was showing himself to be falling into the latter category. She could only hope Hermione wouldn't follow his lead. Her friends outside the Brigade would simply have to deal with the fact she would change over the course of this year into the person she truly was. If they didn't like it, she thought with a touch of sadness, that was just tough.
She almost jumped when, upon reaching the front of the hall, Dumbledore addressed her.
"I suggest you follow the others, Miss Potter," he said coolly. Clearing her brain of all retrospective fog, Jaci rolled her eyes internally. Surely he must know what's going on?
"Before I do, sir, I would like to address my fellow schoolmates," Jaci said smoothly, her voice, expression, and posture the perfect image of the lady of noble lineage she was. In her own mind, she thanked Pansy for drilling her and the rest of the Brigade on such etiquette, though she didn't know how long she would be able to hold it together. She was too much of a firebrand for that.
"Typical Potter, begging for attention as usual," Snape sneered. Jaci truly rolled her eyes that time, her equivalent of a grin where he was concerned. Severus Snape had his part to play too, of course. For the Death Eaters and Dumbledore alike. But he was, and always would be, Lily's friend first.
Even before Hogwarts, Aunt Petunia had sent him messages asking for advice pertaining to Jaci and her magical development. He had been the one to take them to the Alley as they couldn't get in themselves and Jaci would, without a wand, be unable to open the entrance to the alley proper. But even before then, he had interacted personally with the Dursley family, sending Christmas presents and coming in present for Jaci's birthday. Dudley's, too, if it fell on a weekend and he could leave without being noticed. To his mock ire, ever since they were little, he had been known to them as Uncle Sevy. Uncle Sev later on.
By the time Hogwarts came for Jaci, he tightened his control on the mask he wore.
He certainly played his part well, acting as the spiteful, Potter-hating potions master. In truth, though he still disliked her father and his friends, he had grown up as most people tend to do. Though he could still be a snarky git, Jaci supposed it was in a good way if that made any sense.
On top of all that, he had become the go-between for all of us in different houses. A Gryffindor and Slytherin in particular couldn't exactly be seen talking civilly or it, stupidly enough, would raise questions. Plus, there was always the risk Pansy's parents would be notified, something she began caring increasingly less about. Since she was sorted, she began getting chummy with Malfoy and his ilk so she could relay what they were up to. But Jaci had the feeling that Pansy would also stop hiding herself. She was much like Sirius in that respect except for being sorted into Slytherin and keeping up the act of a perfect pureblood princess for so long.
"Now now, Severus. I believe that a few words couldn't hurt," Dumbledore said in a saccharine voice.
"I disagree. The girl is at risk out in the open like this. We should get her in with the others as soon as possible," Moody growled. I frowned at him; something about the bloke was terribly off, though I didn't know what.
"Let the girl speak, you silly man," Crouch cut in. Moody glowered, something indefinably dark lurking about in his one good eye that Jaci almost thought she'd imagined. After all, why would Moody hate his former boss so much? Dumbledore nodded and so, taking a breath, Jaci turned towards the booing and hissing students. Palming her wand, she let off a noisemaker spell which worked like a charm. Also, such charms were better accepted by purebloods rather than yelling out like a "common Muggle," a philosophy many had clearly forgotten. A mass of heads jerked around to stare at her with open mouths and wide eyes.
"Thank you," Jaci said as coolly and politely as she could. "Before I go in with all the other so-called champions, I wanted a chance to tell you all my take on this."
"Like how much a glory hog you know you are?" McMillan demanded. Jaci had to fight back an angry snarl.
"I bet you won't last two seconds!" Malfoy crowed, his goons guffawing along with him. She clenched her fists, nails biting into the palm of her hand.
"Face it, Potter, you can't trick us. We know you for who you are, a no-good, sodding cheat!" Ron hollered. At those words, something inside Jaci snapped. Why the hell should she bother talking to these lumps all flowery and civilised when they weren't paying her the same courtesy? When her own so-called "best mate" would so easily slander her when things went wrong? And at that moment, she didn't care about perfect composure or being the bigger person or other such rubbish. She was a Gryffindor for reasons outside of her mask and she knew it well. And it was about time she showed it, too. The fuse that was Jacintha Potter's temper had finally run out. Only those who truly knew her could sense the impending explosion.
"All of you SHUT IT!" Jaci roared. "You all disgust me, you know that? You put me on a pedestal as some sort of hero and then, when I don't quite measure up somehow, you find some way to shun me. Does the heir of Slytherin nonsense ring a bell? Don't even justify your actions. With few exceptions, you're all pathetic. You're more fickle than the stock market, less reliable than a 50-year-old car, and you swing back and forth in your opinions more than a child on a swing set does. I shouldn't be having to justify myself to you imbeciles but I should make an oath..."
"Now now, my girl, I don't believe that will be necessary." Dumbledore cut in before she could start. Jaci knew he would; it was the way of things with that stupid, meddling old geezer.
"Your opinion is irrelevant in this situation, Headmaster." she stated coldly, the man's title rolling off her tongue with a bitter, sarcastic edge.
"As I am the headmaster..." he started.
"Do let the girl give her oath, sir. I can't see what it would hurt." Ludo Bagman cut in.
"Thank you for that completely unnecessary endorsement. As I was saying, I should make an oath. But I won't. You bunch of narrow-minded, hypocritical, indecisive, sheep-mimicking morons will believe whoever bleats the loudest, follow whichever shepherd you believe will keep you safe. It wouldn't matter if I made oaths until I'm blue in the face. I'll tell you this right now: I did NOT put my name or have anybody else put my name in the flaming shot glass. I'll compete in this asinine tournament because I'm not stupid enough to forget that the glorified sippy cup constitutes an iron-clad magical contract, no matter if the names it belches are of willing or unwilling participants. But when I prove you lot all wrong, you can take your frankly demented hero worship and bloody well shove it. Enjoy the show, arseholes!" Jaci called with a mockingly chipper tone even Crabbe and Goyle could pick up on. Then, with a crooked grin that was full Marauder, she innocently waved her arm, her hand going for a half second into the oh-so-familiar international sign of "Fuck you". Turning sharply on her heel, her loose curtain of dark red hair whipping about as she did so, Jacintha marched proudly to the chamber of champions.
"I'm guessing you heard that?" Jaci grinned, leaning casual against a wall. Another sign of Hogwarts' idiocy, expecting the champions to wait without chairs. To be fair, which she didn't particularly feel inclined to, the tournament organisers couldn't have known this would happen.
"Very well done," the only other female, a silvery blonde named Fleur, said approvingly.
"Huh?" Jaci asked, flabbergasted.
"We 'ave been wanting to put ze British wizards in zere place for years but we 'ave not 'ad the opportunity to do so. Not een such a public and spectacular way with leetle risk of an eenternational eencident. Zough you did not make ze oath, You should not 'ave to. As far as I understand eet, you 'ave never given reason for ozers to deestrust you. As far as I am concerned, you 'ave shown yourself to be more zan am empty 'eaded leetle girl basking een 'er fame," she explained logically. Jaci had not expected this. She knew of the dislike and distrust between the British and French magical societies. However, she had no idea it ran so deep.
"I... erm... merci beaucoup. Fleur, oui?" she asked the champion. Fleur nodded and Jaci shot her a grin.
"Bloody hell, Potter. That was... well... really unexpected. No offense but... well... I thought Quidditch was..." Cedric diggory cut off. He was one of the only Hufflepuffs who'd believed Jaci in second year. That being said, he was the Hufflepuff she respected most. More than even his own head of house who had treated her coldly when Justin had been petrified in second year. She had only warmed up when the truth, or at least her innocence, came out. Jaci figured Cedric was simply too polite to point out that she had been drowning in mediocrity since she had been a firsty.
"The only thing I'm good at? There's never just the surface of things, Diggory. That's all I'll say." she responded.
"That's fine. I just wanted to let you know that I believe you. You've always been honest so why would you stop now?" he asked. I simply shot him a smile. Krum said nothing, simply glowering at nothing. He was probably pouting about his stolen attention. Though those gits in the great hall called her a glory hog, Jaci figured if a picture to describe the phrase was to be put in the Concise Oxford Dictionary or Marian Webster's, Krum's face would be in it.
Three quarters of an hour later, Jaci was finally allowed to go back to Gryffindor Tower after the "champions" had been given the date of the first task. She hoped she would be able to unwind and write her family. They'd be pissed if they heard about this rubbish from the Daily Profit first. She also remembered to mirror-call Sirius. She was grateful he had owled those to her over the summer so they could keep in touch.
As soon as Jaci entered the Gryffindor common room, she was met with a variety of reactions. Many were happy, though most were hostile. Neville just looked worried.
"How did you do it, oh great one?" the twins demanded in creepy unison.
"I didn't do a damn thing." Jaci said irritably.
"You can at least tell us, Jacintha. We're your housemates, after all." Angelina Johnson cut in.
"I just said... whatever. I don't have to explain myself to any of you."
"Of course you don't. Perfect Princess Potter, right? You NEVER have to account for your actions, do you?" Ron sneered. Jaci turned towards him, shock and betrayal flashing in her eyes. She knew he could be a jealous prat at times. But he was her friend! And friends were supposed to stick together!
"Come on, Ron, you're being ridiculous," she said, though realised a half second too late that those words would only make things worse.
"Oh, I'm being ridiculous? Me?" he yelled, his freckled face growing red from his ears down. "You're the ridiculous one, Potter. You could have at LEAST told your best mate that you were entering, couldn't you? You could've helped me, too. You just had to take away what I wanted."
"I didn't "take away" shit, Ronald Billius Weasley. I shouldn't have to explain myself to you! You're supposed to be my friend!" Jaci yelled right back at him, her fists clenching to the point her knuckles were white. She was so close to snapping at that moment. How she dearly wanted to pound Ronald Weasley into the ground like now, squash him like he was squashing their friendship. But she couldn't. In the eyes of most everyone, that would only confirm her guilt. She would have to satisfy herself with venting in letters to her family and when mirror-calling Sirius.
"You're a lying, attention-seeking bint, Potter. Consider this friendship over!" Ron snarled, stepping into Jaci's personal space. Underneath her boiling anger, Jaci still felt the sting of his words.
"As you wish, Ronald. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed," she said flatly. There was no use yelling back anymore. Their friendship was dead - as dead as her tone of voice. Maneuvering past Ron's tall, lanky form, she headed towards the girls' staircase.
"You could at least tell us how you did it," Lee Jordan begged as her right foot hit the first step to the dorms. Jaci pivoted the rest of the way onto the step and faced the common room.
"Read my lips, the lot of you, because I'm only going to say this once. I. DID. NOT. ENTER. MY. NAME!" she said tightly. With that said, Jaci turned sharply and stalked up the spiral staircase at a fast walk.
"It's only logical, I suppose." came Hermione's self-assured voice as she threw herself onto her bed. It was by a window and directly across from Hermione's.
"What is?" she asked warily. Please, not Hermione. Good, steadfast Hermione.
"Your little ploy out in the great hall, of course. You acted like you would swear an oath if everyone wasn't out to get you to make yourself seem more innocent. Nobody called your bluff so you didn't have to swear the oath and lose your magic."
"Oh no. You too, Hermione? Don't tell me that you of all people believe this rubbish? I'll only say this again because you're my friend: I did NOT enter my name into that loathsome, glorified sippy cup." Jaci reiterated once more. Despite her often pompous and pretentious attitude, she had truly thought Hermione was smarter than that.
"Swear it, then." the bushy-haired witch demanded.
"Huh?" Jaci asked, knowing perfectly well what she wanted.
"Swear the oath that you didn't enter. there should be no problem doing it just for me. I AM your friend, after all. It's only right." she stated. Jaci scowled and nodded reluctantly. Anything to get Hermione to shut up, she supposed. And she figured at least one student needed a wake-up call. Hermione was as good as anyone. Bringing out her wand, Jaci spoke the oath.
"I, Jacintha Lily Potter, born July 31, 1980 to Lily Rose Evans-Potter and James Charlus Potter, do so swear on my life and magic that the following statements are absolutely, without a doubt, irrefutably, 100% true. Firstly, I did not in any way, shape, or form enter myself into the competition known as the Tri-Wizard Tournament. I asked nobody else to enter my name in my stead and I did not use any other means to do so. I also had, and still have, no desire whatsoever to compete. I shall do so, however, only because I am well aware that the Goblet of Fire constitutes an iron-clad magical contract for anybody it chooses, no matter whether they were entered of their own free will or not. So mote it be!" a bright light flashed from the tip of the holly wand, spreading to cover Jaci in its glow before disappearing gradually. Before Hermione could get a word in, she did something typically only done by lazy purebloods - cast a switching spell on her clothes. In an instant, she was dressed in the nightgown Dobby, her little elf friend, had laid out for her.
Thinking of Dobby, Jaci shook her head. House elves were yet another example of Hermione's ignorance. That in and of itself could be understood. But it was her unwillingness to listen and absorb the facts that led to her futile elf crusade. One of the early things Jaci had read was that the bond between house elves and wizards was a symbiotic one. They relied on the magic of wizards to keep themselves stable. If a house elf were to be unbound for a prolonged amount of time, their magic would become dangerous and they grow to be quite insane. Winky was only a more mild example of this sad fact, though she deteriorated much faster than most. By the beginning of the school year, she was almost beyond saving. But as shown in Dobby and Winky both, the bond didn't mean the wizards couldn't be cruel. Though Jacintha had gleefully orchestrated Dobby's freedom, she had bound the hyperactive little guy to her as soon as she could. She had done the same for Winky as soon as she got back to Hogwarts. The little elf was slowly but surely healing the wound the broken bond had left in her spirit and psyche, though Jaci knew, from what Dobby had told her, such things could be long and painful endeavours. Jaci felt, though she never said this, it was disgraceful how Hermione never bothered to learn the reasons why wizards bonded with elves, elves with wizards, before jumping into her SPEW thing with both feet.
"I... Jacintha... I'm so..." Hermione's quiet, choppy apology brought Jaci back to reality. She shook her head and cut the slightly older girl off.
"Maybe you'll be able to form your own opinions from now on, Hermione Jean Granger, instead of basing them off rumours, books, and logic. You said that some wizards don't have enough of the latter. I think you're falling into that trap yourself, no matter how much you try to rationalise things. I believe you have some thinking to do," Jaci's tone was a mixture of exasperation and weariness. Hermione blushed and looked down in shame. Sparing her friend one last look, Jaci grabbed a few choice items out of the drawer of her bedside table before pulling her curtains tightly shut. Deciding to write her aunt and uncle first, she opened the spiral notebook she held, uncapped her pen, and began to write.
Dear Aunt Tuney, Uncle Vernon, and Dudley:
Hello from Hogwarts again. Well, my Halloween luck continues for the fifteenth straight Halloween in a row. That's got to be a world record, right? Anyway, tonight was the drawing of the Tri-Wizard Tournament champions from the so-called Goblet of Fire. I don't even have to tell you, do I? That's right. I've been selected as Hogwarts's second champion. To make it more bothersome, I got the walk of shame as I went up to the head table. Ron called me a traitor, even.
I'm telling you now that the kid gloves are off. I'm sick and tired of dealing with all the insanity that comes with attending a nuthouse like Hogwarts. This is the last straw. I'm going to excel in class and do my best in the tournament. I'm going to be myself as I am, not the half-truth I've been letting them all see. In short, I'm going to let the whole bloody world know I'm more than their golden girl-who-lived.
I hope that I'm making the right decision here. If I don't eventually shed the mask of the golden Gryffindor, it'll be just as bad as if I really were so stupid in naive. This is the right time, I'm certain of it. I wouldn't be surprised if the others join me in peeling away the layers. I could tell they weren't best pleased.
You're gonna love this, Dud. I actually spoke to the hall and stated my innocence while saying I didn't have to justify myself. I also called them all fickle and something like narrow-minded sheep-mimicking morons. I then gave the lot the one-finger salute followed by a walk of pride to the champions' chamber. I had nothing to be ashamed of so why should I act it? I know you'd rather I have restricted it to the walk, Auntie, like you say Mum did when she was annoyed. But I had to add Dad in somewhere and I simply couldn't resist. Plus, I bet over half of them don't know what the middle finger means in that position.
Like I said, I'm going to finish the tournament. I'll be doing all the training I can to prepare for it. Please try not to worry so much. I think I'm starting to make tentative alliances with two of the champions. Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons champion, was impressed and pretty much said she thought it was amusing how I knocked my own country down a few pegs. She's got to be at least a quarter veela. Cedric Diggory, the other Hogwarts champion from Hufflepuff house, is a really nice guy. We've played against each other in Quidditch. Hopefully, as he's head boy this year, he'll be able to get his house members to lay off me. The Durmstrang champ is that famous seeker, Viktor Krum. No alliance there. I think he was jealous that he didn't get more of the spotlight tonight. Anyway, I love and miss you and promise I'll write regularly.
With Love,
Jaci
That done, Jaci sealed the letter in an envelope before getting up and moving over towards the window. Hermione and her other roommates: Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, Faye Dunbar, and Sally-Anne Perks were already in bed. Opening the glass pane, she whistled softly. Moments later her faithful owl, Hedwig, came swooping through the darkness.
"Can you take this home, girl?" Jaci asked gently as she landed on the sill and held out her leg. She snapped her beak, insulted. "I'm sorry, of course you can." with those words she attached the letter, gave her feathers a stroke, and launched her out the window before closing it. She then collapsed into bed, closed the curtains, and applied a silencing charm. Sirius was not going to be happy about this. Taking the delicately framed mirror, she spoke her godfather's name. He answered after a few seconds and his grinning face immediately transitioned to a worried one when he saw the scowl pulling at Jaci's face.
"Okay, what happened." he asked in his rarely-used no-nonsense tone.
"My Halloween luck, that's what." the green-eyed teen ground out.
"Go on."
"The glorified sippy cup decided that it wasn't satisfied with disgorging three champions. Oh no, it decided that it'd be more fun to yuck up a fourth, namely me." she huffed, blowing an errant strand of hair off her face.
"WHAT!" Sirius roared furiously, his grey eyes darkening in anger. "That no-good... the lemon-sucking... brother of a goat-fucking... wrap his beard around his... how could he let this happen!"
"Fuck if I know." Jaci shrugged tensely.
"Language." he reprimanded half-heartedly.
"Hypocrite." she retorted.
"I had to do that for your aunt's sake. You know you're the most potty-mouthed fourteen-year-old I ever met?"
"Am not. If today is any indication, you Marauders were worse at times. In fact, I know Dad was. Moony told me so," Jaci grinned impishly. Shaking her own head internally at the absurdity of what she was about to say, she plowed on. This night needed some levity. "Plus, my last name is POT ter
"Oh, bad joke, flower-bud." Sirius moaned in mock disappointment.
"I know, I know," Jaci chuckled weakly. "But not finding something to laugh about this evening was just about killing me."
"Yeah," Sirius sighed. "What are you going to do, Jacintha? Even at your full potential, you're still only a fourth year student and the others are at least in their sixth."
"Seventh, all of them. Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff seeker, is the other Hogwarts champion."
"Oooh, don't you mean dishy Diggory?" Sirius teased.
"Shut up, Padfoot. That was last year I was crushing on him. Plus, he's going out with that butterfly girl... Cho. She's a fifth year prefect. Anyway, there's Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons; she's definitely part veela." she continued. Sirius wolf-whistled. "Don't let her catch you doing that. It wouldn't surprise me if she's got a temper hot enough to match her ancestors' fireballs. From Durmstrang is the big-nosed glory hog himself, Viktor Krum. He's his headmaster's little favourite."
"I'd watch out for him if I were you, Jaci. Karkaraf was a Death Eater during the first war. He ratted out some of his comrades for a reduced sentence." Sirius warned.
"Duly noted."
"Make sure you keep me updated on what's happening there, all right?" Sirius asked, his eyes pleading.
"Sure thing, Paddy," Jaci said solemnly. The conversation ended soon after that.
Disabling the silencing charm, Jaci put the mirror, notebook, and pen back where they came from and snuggled under her warm covers. She could only hope that things would turn out for the best. Despite the fact that she was finally going to be unveiling herself, she couldn't help but be nervous. It was obvious to anyone with any sense that someone had it in for her and she would have to tread carefully. Knowing the Potter luck, this was going to be one hell of an interesting year.
Next up in chapter 2:
"True friends are there for you even when it's raining shrimp and snowing meatballs," Luna said sagely. Jaci nodded; she couldn't agree with her more.