Chapter 6: Interviews and Training

The next morning was painful. I barely slept that night as I could feel myself thrashing in my sleep from my nightmares. My nightmares ranged from me dying from the tournament and me dying at the hands of my now ex-best friend. Either way, it was a lovely night.

I woke up feeling a lethargic wave consume me and contemplated staying in bed. Groaning to myself, I realized that my only hope of surviving this tournament is if I start preparing now. Despite not having any clue on what the first task will be. I'm off to a great start.

When I arrived at the Great Hall, the first thing that caught my eyes was Tracey sitting with Parkinson and Greengrass. My heart lurched at the sight and well, that stung. A lot. As well as confused me.

Even though Davis and I are not on speaking terms, I never thought she would end up befriending the two bimbos that spent the past couple of years tormenting her.

My head hung low as I scolded myself. If Davis wants to spend her time with the likes of Parkinson and her unintellectual crew of morons, then so be it. I won't be there to defend her once they turn on her, and they will. No one can change their family lineage. Once a half-blood, always a half-blood. Surrounding yourself by pureblooded wizards, and even muggle-borns, won't change that.

I searched for Blaise to see that, while he was sitting next to Malfoy, he is not close enough to my ex-best friend for there to be a huge conflict should I sit there.

So that's what I did.

I sat there without a word and acknowledged Blaise with a small nod. Malfoy had the brilliant idea that making prude comments about my virginity would be the best breakfast conversation topic. Poking around at my food and twirling my fork in a bored fashion seemed like the most reasonable response before I decided that enough was enough and headed to potions early.


Potions was tense. I had only one goal in mind as I was more anxious for the class to end so I can talk to the Head of House. What got me through it was that we had started working on our Poison Antidote. Potion making and I have a very complicated relationship. While I overall do have the talent, as said by our spiteful professor on many occasions, the precision and placement of each ingredient, as well as timing said placement perfectly where not even a fraction of a second is off, still requires my complete focus otherwise I would rank in the back of the class like Longbottom. Plus it helped that Blaise was trying to ward off Parkinson's and Malfoy's verbal attacks on me throughout.

Even the whispers of Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis were as loud as white noise when I get into the zone required to make the grade. Although, I could already tell that distasteful rumors about me were brewing and just waiting to be served to the masses.

Once class ended, Blaise nudged my arm, snapping me out of the zone. Glancing up from my simmering cauldron, which has taken the proper dark purple with a swirl of pink mixed within, I felt my mental energy was completely depleted. Leaning over Blaise so I wouldn't have to speak louder than a whisper since that's how exhausted I am, I told him to go onto our next class without me. The ivory-haired boy nodded, patted my shoulder, and left the room. Discreetly, I packed my bag in a sluggish form as to wait for the students to pile out so it would be only me and the Potions Professor.

I walked up to Snape's desk and cleared my throat so I wouldn't sound as if I had a cold. Snape didn't even look up at me, which is not an uncommon occurrence. Sometimes that means he's in a good mood if he doesn't turn you away immediately.

"Professor," I drawled out, still sounding somewhat hoarse. "I need your…assistance," I struggled to get the request out as I despise asking for help with anything.

Snape looked up from his stack of papers he was grading and raised one eyebrow at me.

"This tournament," I picked at my wristband. "I'm going to die in it if I don't have some sort of…plan. I don't even know what the first task is and I don't have the proper, equipment, to be able to handle competing in this."

"Shouldn't you be asking the headmaster to help you?"

"Oh please," I scoffed. "If it came down to me or Harry, Dumbledore would choose Harry. Besides, you're the only one who has the type of skill I'm looking for."

"Flattery will get you nowhere Potter."

My fingers twitched. "It's not flattery if it's true professor. Besides, me being in the tournament is just collateral damage, it's not like I am actually supposed to compete in this thing. So, why not make the most of it and actually try to live? And prove to the idiots in my house that I do not have a death wish." I mumbled that last part.

"If the person who put your name in the Goblet didn't want you in it," Snape put down his stack of papers—oh poor Longbottom, another T—and make eye contact with me. His beady black eyes guarded but with a pleaded intent for me to listen. "They would have only put in your twat of a brother's name in."

"You mean to say that me being involved in this death trap of hell is deliberate."

"Reina you are not as stupid as the rest of the idiots I have to teach so you have no room to start acting like them now. Of course, you were meant to compete!" Snape's eyes flared up with anger that wasn't directed at me, but for me, and that is what set me off.

"Why?" I growled only to withdraw as I realized that it was Snape that I snapped at. "I'm not the chosen one. I'm not the one Voldemort wanted to kill that night. I'm not the one people keep trying to kill, I'm just the one caught in the crossfire!"

"Potter, do you really think that matters? You are the sister of the Boy-Who-Lived, by relation alone is enough to get a target on your back. Open your eyes to the bigger picture."

My eyes clenched shut, the irony, and I took a few deep breaths, feeling the loose pieces of yarn on my wristband tangle through my fingers. The sensation of pressure from doing the little act was enough to calm me down and clear my head. What mattered now was that I make it out alive. That Harry makes it out alive, no matter if the bugger did, in fact, put our name in or not. Even still, the more I think about it, the less likely he is to be the main perpetrator. He's never lied to Professor Dumbledore, so why would he start now? Especially since Harry see's the man as a role model, next to Sirius and Lupin, there's no way he would lie about a stupid tournament compared to everything else we've been through.

"Professor, you are the only person that I can actually trust to help me get out of this tournament with all my limbs intact." Snape's expression stayed the same. "Please," I bit out. "Help me."

"Alright." The potions master breathed through his nose. "But let me be clear. You have no room for laziness, nor failure. Should you want my help, you will do what I say without question. Understood?"

"Thank you, professor!" My emerald eyes were brimming with happiness as I beamed at the only person who seems to want me to live.

"My office. 7p.m. Come straight after your interview."

"Uh, what interview?"

"The interview for the Triwizard Champions, Miss Potter." Snape stated in a matter of fact tone before waving his hand to dismiss me as he sat down to finish grading.

"Thank you, again," And with that, I left Snape's office pondering over whatever this interview will have in store.


"Reina, over here," My brother was the first to notice my presence when I arrived at an unusually bright and unfamiliar room. Stationed near him were the real Triwizard Champions. Krum and Fleur didn't even acknowledge me and I noticed Cedric give me a small, kind smile, which I returned meekly before turning my attention to the supposed judges of the Triwizard Tournament.

Professor Dumbledore: of course since he is the headmaster of Hogwarts…this won't be biased whatsoever.

Barty Crouch: the Ministry Moron that actually thought my brother and I conjured the Dark Mark. I rubbed my left fore-arm instinctively, playing with the loose pieces of yarn again. I really need to fix that up….

Igor Karkaroff: the head of Durmstrang Academy, home of my future husband who switched associating from Parkinson to Greengrass…and Davis now. So much for him being a suitable candidate for me.

Olympe Maxime: the head of Beauxbatons who's elegance actually rubbed off on me for a few seconds thus worrying my fellow comrade.

And Mr. Ollivander: the man that presented me with my first wand. My hand instinctively rested on top of my wand pocket as the memory nagged the back of my mind.

Despite Harry and me still not being on the best of terms, I still went and stood by him and away from the judgmental stares from Fleur and Krum, along with their Head of Schools.

"I heard about Tracey," Harry whispered after I took my stance next to him. "I'm sorry."

"Ironic, since you two have similar comebacks for me, although I don't think you would ever imply me being a whore…"

"What?!" Harry immediately went into big-brother protective mode, and I couldn't help but feel a bit more forgiving. I guess at that moment we both gave a mutually unspoken cease and desist from last night's argument.

"Shush!" I smacked his arm. The last thing I need is to add more rumors going around about my virtue or the apparent 'lack of.'

"Reina I would never," Harry whispered again as he glanced around trying to not draw attention to us. "Look, even though we are not on speaking terms, I heard back from Sirius. He wants to meet with both of us in the Gryffindor Common Room on the night of the first Hogsmeade Weekend."

"The Gryffindor Common room? Is he mad?" I asked incredulously.

"I don't know, the letter only said to meet him there."

"Allow me to introduce, Mr. Ollivander." Dumbledore's serene tone caught my attention and Harry's as we both gave each other a look telling the other that we'll discuss this later. "He will be checking your wands to make sure they are in good use before the tournament."

I took out my wand and examined it, scowling at how disgusting it looked. Fingerprints all over and teeth marks from my intensive biting habits. Harry was looking as irritated as I am about his wand, but he is wiping it against his robe in hope that it will make some form of difference.

"Mademoiselle Delacour, if you would step forward please." Mr. Ollivander calmly ushered the blonde-veela forward.

Fleur swayed, yes swayed, forward, almost as if she was gliding, and presented her wand that appeared as elegant and proper as Fleur herself is portraying to be.

Ollivander took Fleur's wand from her hand, examined it then twirling it before conjuring pink and gold sparks.

Apparently, that was a good sign as Ollivander softly smiled at the display he created.

He then examined the wand more thoroughly this time. "Nine and a half inches, flexible, rosewood, and containing…dear me,"

"An 'air of ze 'ead of a Veela." She answered proudly, with a hint of smugness I couldn't help but scoff at. "It waz me grandmuzzerz."

I tried to contain a laugh that was threatening to escape my lips. For some reason, this little scenario was immensely amusing to me. I purposefully did not glance around to see my brother's and Cedric's reaction to the part Veela as I did not want to throw up what little breakfast I consumed that morning.

"Yes, yes, I've never used Veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands but, if it works for you then…" Ollivander raised the wand in the air slightly. "Orchideous." To that, little orchids appeared out of the wand and I smiled at the display.

"Very well, very well, it seems to be in a fine working order." He plucked the flowers from the tip of the elegant rosewood wand and handed them, along with the wand, back to Fleur who took them without hesitation, offering Ollivander a sweet smile in response, before swaying back to where she stood before.

"Mr. Diggory, you next."

My heart skipped a beat as I watched Cedric sheepishly walk up to Ollivander. It's times like these where I wish I felt comfortable enough to express some luck to him, but hey. At least I can observe from a safe distance.

"Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it?" Ollivander happily asked as Cedric presented his, sadly perfect looking, wand to him. I glared at my wand, silently damning its ugly form to hell. The teeth marks I swear now have eyes as the little ticks are staring back at me, taunting me for not taking better care of it. Maybe if I just bend it like this…no Reina. We are not going to break any wands today.

"Yes, I remembered it well." I put away the petty stick and focused on the sight in front of me. "Containing the tale of a particularly fine male unicorn," I bit back a snort. "Must have been seventeen hands, nearly gored me with its tale after I plucked its horn."

Cedric chuckled and I couldn't help but beam at the sound.

"Reina," Harry nudged me. I put my hand on his mouth, not taking my eyes off the two men.

"Twelve and a half quarter inches, ash, pleasantly springy. It's in fine condition, you treat it regularly?"

"Polished it last night." Do I dare detect a hint of smugness in Cedric's tone? I wonder who he's trying to impress, if not only Ollivander.

Harry took his wand out again to compare and he motioned for me to do the same. The two of us compared wands and I immediately lost all hope for my own wand presentation.

"How is your wand in better condition than mine?" I hissed.

Harry smirked, feeling slightly more confident before putting his wand back in the pocket, giving it an extra wipe on his robes for good measure.

Damn this wand to hell. Damn it.

Ollivander waved Cedric's wand in the air, creating smoke rings that danced around the room before giving the wand back to him while smiling proudly.

Cedric walked back to his area, giving me a nod in acknowledgment and I felt my face heat up at the kind gesture.

"Mr. Krum, if you please."

The final, real, Triwizard Champion ambled up in a strong bulkiness manner and thrust his wand into Ollivander's hand with such a force I would have deemed completely disrespectful.

"Hmmm, this is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I'm mistaken?" Krum nodded stiffly. "A fine wand maker though the styling is not quite how I…however…yes hornbeam and dragon heartstring?"

Krum nodded again, less tense and more proud at the foundation of his wand. I sighed, knowing that all I'm going to get is disgust with mine.

"Rather thicker than one usually sees, quite ridged, ten and a quarter inches…Avis." A loud blast could be heard, making me jump, before a string of birds appeared and flew around the room again. Faintly reminiscent of when I let out my own string of birds at Malfoy, Parkinson, and Bullstrode last night. I smirked at the memory of their screams but frowned when I felt the phantom pain of Tracey shoving me in the shoulder.

"Good." Ollivander gave Krum his wand back and started switching his gaze between Harry and me before resting on Harry. "Mr. Potter."

"That's you brother-dear." I gave Harry a friendly shove and he glared back at me before walking up to the wand-maker.

"Ah yes," The wand-maker gasped slightly as Harry gave him his wand. "Yes, yes, yes, how well I remember."

I rolled my eyes at the obvious display of favoritism.

"Not treating it the best have we, Mr. Potter?" How much are you willing to bet that once Ollivander takes one look at my wand, he will think Harry's is as clean as that crystalline Triwizard trophy? "Eleven inches, Holly, Phoenix Feather Core. Very strong core, phoenix feather." He emphasized. I obnoxiously rolled my eyes. In the end, it is just a wand. If Harry wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived, I'm willing to bet that the emphasis put on his wand would be downplayed drastically. "Fiery wand, good for defense and dueling."

Maybe I should borrow his wand then for when I start training with Snape. Merlin knows I need a good dueling wand if I'm going to even attempt to get through this blasted event.

Ollivander gazed at Harry's wand in a trance, and at that moment I wondered what it was like giving Voldemort his first wand. Well, I suppose at that time Voldemort was Tom Riddle, but either way, he's still the same person. Did Ollivander know by the wand he gave Tom that he was meant for evil? Could he have prevented it then? Or did wands not give any significance to a person's future despite the emphasis on it.

After a long time of wand gazing, Ollivander raised Harry's wand in the air, like the others. "Relashio." Gorgeous blood red sparks emanated from the tip and I couldn't help but feel jealous at the sight.

"Very good Mr. Potter, you may take your seat."

"Your turn." Harry sing-songed as he sauntered towards me, grinning at his wand as he sat down.

"Miss Potter, if you would." As soon as my name was called I immediately felt the anxiety set in. I held my poorly taken care of wand and prayed that I won't get berated for it. I felt the eyes of everyone in the room rest on my back as I cautiously walked up to the man.

"Ah yes," Ollivander started uneasily as I presented him with my wand. To be fair, when I got my wand, I always thought it was beautiful. That's why when it got rusted up after Quirrell kidnapped me, I resented the lack beauty of it and found it to be unrepairable design wise, thus giving into my biting urges. "I remember this one…13 inches, Blackthorn, Dragon Heartstring…"

Ollivander's voice made me nervous as he kept examining it with a furrow of his brows. "Are these…bite marks Miss Potter?"

I grimaced, feeling my face flush as I was hoping he wouldn't point that out. Clearly, I was wrong. I ignored the faint snickers of the real champions and kept my gaze on the ground, letting my dark red hair cover my face as a barrier.

"Blackthorn…peculiarly unusual wood the Blackthorn is…paired with the Dragon Heartstring…" The wand-maker murmured. "Easily…taken in by the Dark Arts and somewhat temperamental, although…extremely loyal to their owners."

I gulped at the fact that now the judges probably think I'm destined for a fate that'll send me straight to Azkaban. That'll earn me extra brownie points for sure.

"No matter, no matter," Ollivander raised my wand up, in its sheer damaged glory. "Periculum." The same effect that happened with Harry's wand also happened to mine. I felt conflicted as to why Ollivander wanted the same response but used two different spells.

"Very good Miss Potter," Ollivander handed me my wand before leaning into me, I took a small step back from the invasion of my personal space. "Keep along with your studies and stick with the light and you'll do very well."

I nodded my head, despite feeling very confused, before heading back to my spot.

"Smile pretty," Harry whispered to me as I realized that everyone was lining up for a picture. Conveniently there was a space in between Harry and Cedric that was perfectly Reina sized.

"Bite marks?" Cedric whispered to me as I took my spot next to him.

"Never speak of it." To that Cedric grinned and I couldn't help but grin along with him when the snap of the camera echoed throughout the room.

"What a charismatic quintet!" A barbie-doll esque figure with platinum blonde ringlet girls and a brightly-garish outfit gushed at us.

"Hello, I'm Rita Skeeter, I write for the Daily Prophet, but of course, you knew that didn't you?"

No.

The Skeeter woman then shook hands with all of us, well, besides me, I just politely smiled at her as I hate touching people, especially those with nails that are pointy enough to be a kneazle's claw. I noticed her smile stiffen up as she realized that I wouldn't shake her hand, but she quickly moved on to the rest of the champions instead of making a big deal about it.

"It's you, we don't know." Her fake smile was still plastered on her face while the color scheme of her clothes were so bright the sun was bouncing off of the pieces of fabric, almost blinding me in result. At that moment I realized that this woman and I will not get along. "You're the juicy news."

What else is new? I glanced at Harry and his expression matched my thoughts perfectly. The downside of being the famous Potter Twins is being constantly in the news. Hooray.

"So, who's up for sharing hm?" I tensed up as my instincts were sending me warning bells that this interview is not going to go well. Skeeter immediately reached for Harry and I stood in front of him protectively. "Shall we start with the youngest?"

"Reina's younger than me!" Harry nudged my back, pushing me towards her, causing me to lose my balance slightly.

"Lovely," Skeeter kept her fake-smile plastered on her face as she led me away from the group.

I glanced behind me with a look that said 'SAVE ME', all I got in response was a relieved smirk and a mouthed 'love you,' from Harry, a thumbs up from Cedric, and blank expressions from Fleur and Krum before I exited the room.

Awaiting my doom was a claustrophobic inducing broom closet which Skeeter thought that would be an amazing place to hold an interview.

This interview will kill me before the actual tournament does.

"Hmmm, this is cozy." Skeeter commented as I took a few steps back, pressing my back against the wall to keep as much distance between us as possible.

"So, Reina Potter, how does it feel being an ordinary little girl competing alongside her brother and three much more intellectually and magically mature witches and wizards in such a dangerous life-threatening tournament?" To the right of Skeeter was a magical green pen that was charmed to take notes by itself.

I narrowed my eyes at the question, while it seems harmless, I could tell she was attempting to gain a specific reaction because of the 'ordinary little girl' comment.

"I feel downright static and thrilled." My voice was dripping with sarcasm as I made sure I was wearing an equally fake smile that was so strong it could rival hers.

"Oh very brave of you!" Skeeter chastised. I felt my face twitch slightly at the false compliment. "Tell me, was it the fact that your brother is the one who primarily gets the glory between you two that compelled you to enter your name in the Goblet?"

"Who said that I-" The Skeeter bitch cut me off before I could retaliate. I could feel my hands start to twitch in my lap, itching to do Merlin knows what.

"Or was it your desire to protect him and save him from his own demise that you felt forced to enter your name in?"

Before I could even answer that bullshit question, the scratching of the quill made me tense up as I glanced to see what it was writing.

lonely little girl…wanting attention…had no other choice…forced to save her brother…

"For the record lady," My fake smile immediately vanished as I ignored her prideful smirk when she realized she got under my skin. "I did not enter my name in the Goblet. I don't care about the fame or glory. Why should anyone want to be praised as a hero because their parents got murdered?"

"Speaking of your parents, how do you suppose they would feel if they were alive? To see their precious little girl with average magical talent and no support system risking her life for just to live up to everyone's expectations? To say they would be concerned would be an understatement darling."

If my parents were alive, I wouldn't be in the tournament in the first place. I grit my teeth and let my fingers tangle through the yarn of my wristband as an attempt to stay somewhat calm. Skeeter seemed to notice the small action as her bright eyes followed my movements.

"Or maybe, you're embarrassed." Skeeter's lips curled up into a grin as she saw a potential new direction for her story. "You're embarrassed to be the twin sister of the Boy-Who-Lived and you're ashamed of your mark. Is that why you keep it covered up with that ratty old wristband of yours?"

My breath hitched as she touched a nerve. I was never embarrassed about my mark, even when Dudley and his goons kept attacking me because of it. They were the reason why I wore the wristband all the time back at the Dursley's. I wore it just so they would shut up and find something else to try and hurt me with. It wasn't out of embarrassment but as a form of protection.

Since I arrived at Hogwarts it's been as if I'm being compared to Harry, down to the last detail of our lives. My mark is something that I didn't want people to latch onto when meeting me and getting to know me. Even though I had a hard time opening up at first, I still wanted people to try and get to know me as just Reina, not the Girl-Who-Lived. Over time, the special treatment that my brother kept getting did make me jealous and still does, but never have I felt embarrassed of my mark. Nor will I ever be ashamed of being Harry's sister. I will always love him and stick by him, no matter what.

"Alright, Barbie Doll. You want a story right?" Skeeter grinned excitedly, her body language shifting as if one wrong move would cause her to miss one tiny excruciating detail. "Here's your story. I did not put my name in the Goblet of Fire. Harry did not put our name in the Goblet. You say I have average magical talent right? By that theory that would mean I don't have enough knowledge to even get past the age line, placed by Professor Dumbledore, the greatest sorcerer in the world as they call him. So here's your story." I tried to snatch that possessed quill but it floated just barely above my reach. "Who is Framing the Potter Twins? Let's Hope They Make It Out Alive and Not Exploit Two Fourteen-Year-Olds Despite Myself Being a Manipulative Fraudulent Bitch."

I didn't even let her respond as I pushed through the excessive brooms and left the broom cupboard with a slam of the door, determined to warn my brother immediately.

I stomped back into the room to see Harry pacing anxiously.

"Do not say anything other than that you did not put our name in the Goblet." I hissed to Harry as discreetly as I could with the clack of Skeeter's heels trailing behind me.

Harry nodded with a worrisome expression before heading off with the demonic woman, leaving me alone with the rest of the champions.

"Ahem," I cleared my throat awkwardly as I felt the judgemental gazes seep into my soul. "So with that, I shall take my leave," I began to turn around but the beautiful French Accent of Fleur Delacour stopped me in my tracks.

"You shouldn't even be here in zee first place!"

Charming, isn't she?

"Trust me, I'm fully aware," I turned back around and placed my hands on my hips as an attempt to be more confident. "It's not like I actually wanted to be in this thing in the first place, but wait. It's not like you guys will believe me anyway so what's the point in me even trying to defend myself?"

"Vell, 'oo else could it 'ave been?" The brutish voice of Viktor Krum cut in, surprising me as he has never taken an interest in talking with me or any of the Slytherins that wasn't Malfoy.

Wait.

Maybe my future husband has taken a notice of the Reina-charm and has asked Krum to gather some information! That'll definitely earn his spot back on my potential suitor's list.

Not likely, but a girl can dream.

"Arry, zee brother of Reina probably." Fleur concluded.

"Hah! My brother is not intellectually capable of the magic required to accomplish this. Last time I checked, we both are only fourteen years old. A very definitive factor that has been consistently lacking in your ignorant plot-points by the way."

Fleur rolled her eyes at me before engaging in a conversation with Krum, probably attempting to create new conspiracy theories about who Harry and I are framing for this disaster.

I almost wish that were true.

"Surely this wasn't some sort of prank…." Cedric pondered, deep in thought. My sour mood perked up at how serious he was taking this.

"Nah, it's too calculated, too personal, and too conspicuous to be just a simple prank. I appreciate the effort though."

"So there isn't some way you can get out of this?"

"Nope," I popped out the 'p' for emphasis. Cedric's expression immediately drooped which surprised me. The boy really does care. "The Ministry-Dumbass said that the Cup is linked to some Unbreakable Vow magic that is too complex for my fourth-year fourteen-year-old mind to comprehend. If I tried to back out, apparently I would die."

"Wow, I'm sorry Reina." Cedric comforted me by putting his hand on my arm.

"Yea…me too."


Despite my mood lifting from Cedric's genuine concerns for me, I was still relatively pissed off by the time I reached Snape's office. I didn't even get a chance to eat dinner. Plus Harry told me about his experience with that woman and needless to say there is a common theme of Harry being glorified and me being an attention seeker. Hooray. That'll do wonders for my deteriorating reputation.

"Alright Professor, what have you got in store for me? Hopefully, it's some strategy to get that Skeeter moron fired from her post. I'd say that is a very good way to intellectually and magically stimulate me, don't ya think?"

"We have no time for games Miss Potter. I have taken precious time out of my grading to help you. Do not waste it or you will serve detention grading 90% of the papers."

"Got it Professor, bad day today for you as well then?"

Snape grimaced but didn't confirm nor deny it. I'm willing to bet it was the obnoxious first years. Some reason this new batch seemed particularly irritating compared to last year's fresh meat. Since the Goblet of Fire fiasco, I have had a least half of the first year class ask me for my autograph because of that alone. Not because I was the Girl-Who-Lived, no. Never.

"Take out your wand." Snape drawled.

I raised my eyebrows but made no room to comment as I took out my wand. Influenced by the Dark Arts. Hah. Right.

Snape then made a swish motion with his wand and the desks disappeared instantaneously, leaving the room bare minus the cupboards that were sealed shut before he moved to the middle.

"Professor…not trying to be cheeky…but…"

"We are going to duel." Snape declared. I walked slowly to where he stood, with my wand pointed in front of me. "Despite that inexplicably inept fraud who taught you Defense Against the Dark Art's your second year. There was one thing that Dumbledore did right. Now. Do you remember anything that you learned from that experience?"

"That my brother could speak Parseltongue." That was when I decided to be cheeky.

Snape gave me an unamused look.

"Maybe one defensive and offensive spell…." I mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"This tournament will test your strengths and your weaknesses. Both magically and intellectually. The person that put your name in wanted you specifically to be tested as well. Otherwise, it would just be your brother making a fool of himself, mucking about in all the fame."

"Why would someone want to test me?" Before I could react, Snape sent, what was presumably a disarming spell at me. His cape danced behind him from the motion. It took me off guard just how much different Snape looked as a person. It was as if I was watching a stranger with Snape's facial features. To say how that took me off guard was an understatement as that was enough to throw me off balance as I face-planted on the cold, hard, disgusting floor.

"Ow," I growled out, cradling my bruised cheek. "This is supposed to test me not kill me! That's what the tournament is for Professor!"

"Get up Potter and fight back!" Snape urged while keeping his defensive form. "Channel that anger and discipline your mind!"

With extra finesse, I pushed myself off the ground and fired my own disarming spell at him…which I missed and hit the back wall, making it crumble, shaking the room slightly.

"Not horrible…minus your deplorable aim."

"Not horrible?!" I panted out. "I completely missed as you so eloquently commented!"

"But you have power! You have a strong enough magical energy core that needs to be utilized and developed!"

I barked out a laugh, putting my hand on my head to steady myself.

"Again. This time actually block my attacks."

I nodded and immediately went into a stance that seemed appropriate, much more prepared for Snape's attack.

He sent the same spell at me and I moved my wand swiftly to the right as a poor attempt to block before feeling the impact of the spell push me back into the wall.

"Did you forget how to block Potter?!" Through my slightly blurred vision, I could see Snape pinching his nose in frustration.

"Need I remind you that I am currently running on lack of food and a day filled with fraudulent writers?"

I slowly managed to pull myself back into a straight position before noticing Snape rummaging about in one of the cupboards. I limped myself back towards the chalkboard which is behind Snape's, now disappeared desk.

"Pepperup Potion. Drink this then head down to the Great Hall. Dinner is still going on and you need your strength. Every night after the feast, you will come to my office and we will duel.

I gulped the peppermint flavored potion and felt the effects immediately. I didn't even realize that my vision was blurring from the debacle.

"I'm not going to say this for a while but, thank you again, Professor."

Snape raised an eyebrow at me, high enough to where his greasy black hair was covering it.

"For being the only person trying to make sure that I don't get killed in this thing."


"Snape is…training you?" Blaise asked incredulously as we sat down on the couch in front of the fire. Our usual spot together since first year.

"Of course, he's the only one I trust to get the job done."

"I suppose it is better than getting the old cook to prep you for your inevitable death." Blaise commented cheekily.

"If I went to Dumbledore all I would get would be cryptic riddles and messages to send to Harry so that my brother could get trained instead." I grimaced at the thought of running around the castle playing owl post.

"Exactly. So, what's it like? Training with Snape I mean." Blaise's dark eyes lit up with a curiosity that has never been present before.

"Brutal. Very brutal." I leaned forward on the couch to stare into the emerald flames that were dim in the fireplace. Maybe I should re-light it later. "But going up against him… it was like I was seeing a completely different person. There was this air around him that felt dangerous, which unnerved me a little bit since I've felt nothing but comfort since I've been in his class."

"Well, Snape used to be the Dark Lord's right-hand man back when he rose up."

"I'm aware." I angrily picked at my wristband, remembering how that would be Harry's main reason to why he suspected that he stole the stone back in first year. "That was another contributing factor to why I asked him of all people to teach me. The person who wanted me in this blasted thing wanted me in it to test my abilities. That person most likely saw me as a big enough threat to try and assess my capabilities to figure out what to do with me later on. Snape is the only professor at this damn school I know that truly does not want me to perish in the tournament, therefore he really is the only person for the job."

"Wow, someone actually wants to tangle with Reina Potter for once. Man are we in trouble."

I glanced back to see that he was relaxed against the couch wearing a boyish grin while running a hand through his perfectly combed ebony locks, before staring back into the fire.

"You should probably know that I have been trying to squash some of the rumors about your sexual exploits."

"Wonderful, I was wondering when I would start hearing about that."

"Yea they were, very erotic to say the least. But I managed to convince Draco to get Parkinson and her companions to shut up about it until the next scandal comes up."

"Really?" Blaise hmm'd. "How did you manage to convince Malfoy to do this, especially since he was the one who first insinuated it in the first place?"

"Ah Reina darling, there are some things that even best friends don't share."

I raised my eyebrows but didn't comment further.

Blaise yawned before announcing his retreat to the dormitories, leaving me to attempt to finish my homework in front of the flames as the portrait of Salazar Slytherin looked down, watching over me as I tried not to focus on the fact that my reputation may be destroyed before the tournament after all.


A/N: And Chapter 6 is done! I believe this is one of my favorite chapters to write/edit so far. Fun fact, my favorite chapter that I have already pre-written is coming up fairly soon, sometime early next month so keep an eye out for that!

I don't have much to say other than thank you guys for all the support for this story, it means so much and gives me so much motivation to keep writing and editing!

Well, that's all for now, remember to leave a review if you have a constructive/supportive comment, questions, etc etc that you would like me to respond to-as well as favorite and follow to keep track when I update!

~Aquarius