Inter-House Tournament Series, Chapter 1: The Goblet of Fire – Glory of Destruction?
Had anyone been peering into the night sky at that particular hour, the first thing to catch their eye would be the ghostly galleon, otherwise known as the moon, which was sailing through a sea of clouds. The night-time landscape of the Hogwarts school grounds was bathed in an argent light as silvery rays bore down vividly upon the terrain. Beams raked across the long, untrimmed grass and spilt upon the branches of the Forbidden Forest trees that were etched into the navy sky. Outlined by a blurry white glow, each individual trunk and bough appeared to be hued a light shade of pewter. The stillness of the air at that hour (when the clock's hands were splayed at an angle displaying half-past four that morning) caused not a rustle from the leaves or a sway from the trees. Not a single grass blade bent and not a single ripple blemished or flawed the smooth glass-like surface of the Black Lake. Like a mirror, it truthfully reflected all that was shown to it, uncorrupted in any way or form.
Whatever miniscule amount of moonlight that managed to pierce the inky depths of the Black Lake and filter its way down into the Second Year Slytherin Girls' Dormitory was blocked out of sight from Shayde Ophelia Silvergate by the hanging curtains of her four-poster bed. The green drapes had always provided her with privacy when she lay upon her mattress, whether she was awake or asleep, for one needed only to extend a hand and draw them tightly closed. Usually, when it came to night time, Shayde had little trouble in dozing off. However, she had recently been subject to insomnia – a state in which she could not rest her mind enough to fall asleep. Restlessness had broken out like a plague in Hogwarts, after the announcement at the Start of Term Feast that the Inter-House Tournament was to be held this year. She was not the only one to suffer from this condition, but the decision of entering or not appeared to be much more important to her than this sleeplessness she was enduring.
As she tucked her emerald covers snugly under her chin, the young Slytherin curled into a tight ball and suppressed a yawn, her gaze wandering up to the olive-coloured ceiling. One could say that she somewhat resembled a rolled-up pangolin in her current position. With a finger tracing the silver-stitched patterning that spread across her blankets, Shayde appeared to be tranquil and at ease. However, as peaceful as her expression was, she was actually furiously debating with herself. Should she take the plunge and go on the path that may lead to fame, grandeur and praise, or the very same path that could lead to her destruction? For as long as the twelve year old could remember, her brain had never been under so much stress in her life.
Now Shayde had been pondering hard at the word 'glory'. Glory: a state of high honour. Few are born with it, many will pursue it, and some would die for it. Such a sweet and yet dangerous thing, glory was; it was like a drug. One small taste of it, no matter how small, would cause even the strongest of humans to become addicted. Man or woman, muggle or magical – it did not matter. Nothing would have the ability to satisfy the thirst, unless quenched by glory itself.
'Why is that?' had been Shayde's conundrum for the week, and that night she had come up with one answer. At the end of the day, the only thing that would matter is what you had done in your life. After you die, all that will be remembered of you would be your successes. In history, both Magical and Muggle, names from centuries ago had managed to live on – Julius Caesar, Salazar Slytherin, William Shakespeare, Nicholas Flamel… etc. All had become famous for their actions and achievements. All had been known for what they had done and their various contributions.
If only Shayde had the courage, wit and ability to earn such a thing as glory! Though not particularly talented, or so she considered that of herself, she would still be found succumbing into wild dreams of power, fame, and magnificence. The word 'glory' would usually have lit up a strange enthusiasm and eagerness within the young Slytherin's eyes. Greed and malice would also glint within them, which would later obscure and darken those identical orbs into a corrupted state of liquefied emeralds. However, after the Tournament announcement, whenever that word crossed her mind, it would do naught but send waves of shivers coiling down her spine. Glory… or destruction? It all depended on her choice. Better safe than sorry, or better having tried than never?
Shayde knew she was running out of time. The Goblet of Fire was closing soon. To be precise, that very night was the last night it was open for. Soon, it was to be dawn, and entries for the Tournament would be closed. Shayde had been mesmerised when her gaze first landed upon the cup. The wooden chalice, topped with sapphire flares was awe-inspiring and irresistible. Just imagine if she won! So much would be hers. True, the money and the Tournament Trophy was not worth a significant amount. But the fame, that was everything.
She did not have much longer to consider. With a sigh, Shayde flipped her fluffy white pillow over so that she could lay her feverish head upon the cooler side. She felt her skull sink down as if engulfed by quicksand, and she and remained in that position for a moment before rolling onto her back. Her body heat was radiating from her like an oven and as she shifted her position, an uncomfortable spring pressed against her hip. Inside, she realised that her body would not allow her to rest until she did what was needed. She had to enter. She had to put her name in the Goblet.
"Alright, Silvergate," she sighed wearily to herself, care less to the fact that her speaking could awake her other dorm-mates. Tossing her covers aside, she stepped upon the cold floor, wincing as her bare feet connected with the stone. Already donned in her pyjamas, she draped a cloak across her shoulders and glanced around for her slippers. Her feet padded lightly on the ground of the dormitory, and jewel green orbs blinked in the darkness, dilated pupils drawing in as much light as they could. Oh drat! I probably left them at home during the school holidays. I should have noticed earlier. They've been gone for about a week now or something?
The Slytherin ambled over to the door and grasped the silver handle. It was cool in her hand, and Shayde could feel the sweat from her palm, caused by her anxiety and nervousness, transfer onto the knob. Turning the handle, she pulled it open silently and slipped through, closing it behind her and hearing a soft mechanical click as it relatched itself. She groped her way down the stairs, careful not to make too much noise. There were a few times in which she almost tumbled down, but luckily her feet had found the next step before she lost her balance.
Navigating using touch, she made her way slowly down the spiralling staircase. Upon reaching the Common Room, Shayde could finally use her eyes instead of her fingers to find her way. Though the fire had died, the coals were still glowing brilliantly and the light was enough for her to make out the dim outlines of many objects. Even so, she had stubbed her toe twice during the short period of time in which she hurried over to her schoolbag to hastily pull out a scrap of parchment and a crumpled quill.
A shaky 'Shayde Ophelia Silvergate' followed by an even more illegible 'Slytherin Second Year' were scrawled in a mess cursive writing as the feather bled upon the rough surface, blotching slightly when she dotted her 'i's. Balling the paper within her hand, she shoved the quill back into her bag and headed towards the exit, feeling herself wondering yet again whether entering was a good idea or not. Before her nerves got the better of her, she stepped out into the corridors and pushed all thoughts from her mind. If she turned back now, she would never enter.
The shadowed sublevels of Hogwarts were chilly, dingy and dark. To the twelve-year-old, it was an impossible labyrinth. Still, she had to find her way through the twisting hallways and to the Great Hall where the Goblet stood, calling, waiting. Half of her wanted to turn back – she could be caught by a professor, a prefect or the caretaker for all she knew. The other half of her forced her to go on. Her heart thumped against her ribs like a caged monster and she felt as if it was about to explode. Her feet were now numb with cold, and Shayde bit down upon her bottom lip. She didn't have to go much further, which was a comforting thought. Okay, it's a right turn here… then a left… left… a right, and another right… then… is it left? Yeah, left… no, no, right! Left is to the dungeons! Right to the Great Hall! Okay, now straight ahead, straight ahead…
Soon, the ancient wooden doors to the Great Hall were looming over her like jaws, as if they were about to swallow her whole. They were slightly ajar and Shayde could see a soft blue light spilling onto the ground before her. It was almost as if the Goblet was laying down a path for her. How considerate, she mused wryly, a smile twirling at her mouth. As she mustered up her courage and drew in a sharp breath through clenched teeth, she slipped through the doors.
The Goblet of Fire stood before her, upon its little pedestal, its cerulean flames stretching upwards towards the enchanted ceiling where stars were twinkling in their billions. It was as if one had smashed a mirror into a thousand pieces and had forgotten to sweep the small particles away. They were pinned onto the heavens, each and every single one trying to out-dazzle the other. But it was not the stars that mattered. What drew Shayde's complete and undivided attention was the Goblet. Having forgotten that she could be caught any moment, she simply stared, her lips parting a little with drool threatening to spill over from her mouth. She could still recall the emotions that stirred within her when she first saw it, but now, at night, it seemed to have revealed its full splendour. Shadows were banished away as the fires danced jovially, seductively, entrancingly.
As she closed her eyes, Shayde recalled the Start of Term Feast for the year. It was so sharply and clearly embedded into her brain that it was almost as if she were experiencing it again. She was no longer out of bed in the middle of the night. She did not feel the coldness that nipped at her toes. Lost in her memory, she stood leaden like a statue, oblivious to her surroundings…
"Welcome students, both new and old, for another year at Hogwarts. I hope you all had a pleasant summer break and are well rested, for I assure you, we have plenty of events planned this year as well as stuffing your head full of knowledge," Professor Lupa di Angeli announced. "Firstly, I would like to present our new professors who have joined us this year. They are Professor Oliver Dalton, who will be teaching us about Divination. Professor Vivian Archer, who will guide us in our Etiquette and Decorum classes. Professor Arnia Sinclair, who will be conducting the flying lessons. For Herbology, we have Professor Emilie Morelle, who will make green thumbs of everyone. Not literally of course. Professor Alan Matthew Wolfe will be filling our heads with tales about Mythology. Lastly, Professor Maeve Rennin will be instructing you all in the art of Transfiguration…"
As Shayde feigned interest and joined in the applause after all the new professors had been introduced, she stifled a yawn and stared longingly at the empty golden plates before her. The trip on the Hogwarts Express had been tiring and she had been foolish enough not have any money on her, thus meaning she had not bought anything from the Trolley Lady. With her stomach growling, the Slytherin really wished to for the Headmistress to hurry up. Her attention was something that was something difficult to capture, and unless the topic was something that really interested her, whatever that was going on would be in one ear and out the other.
"This year will see our older students leaving Hogwarts after completing their NEWT exams," Professor Lupa di Angeli continued. "Whether it be further studying, obtaining employment, travelling or whatever you choose. This year will be very important for your future, and to help you after you leave, we will be giving the seventh year students an opportunity for some work experience to help them adapt to the workforce…"
With her stomach complaining yet again, Shayde clutched her middle and glanced around, hoping that no one else heard. As more news was delivered to the school through the Headmistress's mouth, the girl made a mental note to see whether or not she had the time to try out for Quidditch. It would no doubt be a fun and interesting activity, though her parents would probably disapprove of her playing the sport. As much as they liked to watch it, playing was certainly out of the question. Still, if she managed to get into the team, then tell her family…
Her thoughts were broken by Professor Lupa di Angeli's next words.
"This year, we will once again have our Inter-House Tournament. This tournament is open to second years and above who meet certain requirements. This will be explained in the next day or so. The Goblet of Fire will be placed in the Entrance Hall tomorrow. All students who think they have what it takes to become a Champion may place their entry in the Goblet. Remember, do not enter lightly. If you are chosen by the Goblet of Fire as a Champion there is no backing out. It is a commitment. There will be three tasks to perform which need courage, skill, intelligence, commitment and speed. If you believe you have these qualities, and meet the requirements to enter, then do so. It promises to be an exciting tournament."
Chattering rose from the students yet again, but Shayde had been struck dumb. The Inter-House Tournament - that was it! It was her key to her fame. It would be the perfect opportunity for her to earn her glory and prove what she was worth and that she did belong in the noble house of Slytherin. Later on, after the feast in which the Slytherin girl had eaten her fill and had drowned herself with glassfuls of pumpkin juice, she felt extremely drowsy and sleepy. A warm sensation spread across her body and she blinked, unfocusedly, feeling relaxed and at home.
It was when the Goblet was revealed to her that all sleepiness was banished. It was perfectly crafted, with old-fashioned carvings and intricate patterns engraved upon its sides. The fire that blazed within it danced wildly to music that only it appeared to have the ability to hear. She swore that she could gaze at the Goblet forever – to her it was nothing less than the legendary Holy Grail. To have such a magical and beautiful object select her out of so many other competitors…
Shayde's heart sank down to her boots when she realised that there would be little chance for her to be chosen among other skilled and more experienced students. She felt quite morose for the next couple of hours and wallowed in the fact that she was not particularly competent, or very talented, at a lot of things that she would consider compulsory for the Tournament.
Shaking her head, the second year slid out of her trance and blinked, bringing herself back to the real world. Her pale face whitened as she timidly approached the chalice. Twin pools of melted green beryl clouded briefly within a miasma of uncertainty before she raised her arm. Time seemed to slow, and as she held her hand over the sapphire flames, Shayde felt them singe her skin with both heat and ice. Her heart pounding now, she watched as her clawed hand released the strip of parchment that had been dampened by her sweat. Gravity snatched it from the air, and greedy flares licked up the fuel that it was offered. A sudden, fierce flicker of the flames constituted the magical binding contract and the fire flashed a vivid jade. That very same green was reflected in her irises in one brief, shining, moment of truth. Then, the flames turned blue once again and burned contently, as if nothing had happened.
It was over. It was done with. Shayde had entered.
A sigh of relief hissed from between her teeth as she exited the Great Hall. After casting a fleeting look backwards at the Goblet, she sprinted back to the Slytherin Common Room, ignoring the cold working up her legs. Darting up the stairs and into her dormitory, she dived under her covers and surrendered herself to sleep, letting her dreams take over. The clock that ticked quietly in the corner of the room currently showed five o'clock in the morning.
Outside, nature unfurled its beauty in a majestic sunrise. Ablaze with a palette of brilliant shades of crimson and orange, the radiant heavens were reflected off the textured layers of the feathery clouds that blanketed the dawn sky. Peaceful, tranquil and serene, gentle pulsating rhythms from choruses of whirring crickets softly mingled with the whisper of a warm summer breeze. To the observer of this awe-inspiring scene, it would undoubtedly take their breath away. But to the sleeping Shayde Silvergate, who cares about the sunrise when you just set yourself on the path to glory?
NOTE: This story is non-canon, meaning that only the setting of the story are the works of J.K. Rowling. The characters in this chapter are all members from the website Inspired Quills. All submitted stories and their content are copywrited to me, Shayde Silvergate, so please do not use parts without asking for permission. Feel free to personal message me on this website if desired.