Seriously, this website makes me want to hurt myself sometimes. I always have to go back in and re-post my chapters because everything gets all messed up and makes it unreadable. I'm really very sorry. I just got back from Colorado and saw this and freaked out. Well, here's to hoping it works!
Chapter Six
~Nellie~
Thursday night passed by. I spent most of that evening waiting in the hospital wing with Fred and George as Madame Pomfrey fixed a potion to make the twins look like sixteen-year-old boys again. Once they were cured, I dedicated the entire journey back to the Gryffindor common room to teasing them mercilessly about their failed Aging Potion. I was repeatedly told to be quiet by the both of them. They even placed their hands over my mouth in an attempt to shut me up, their faces as red as their hair from embarassment.
Then it was Friday night. We were seated in the Great Hall, Fred on my left and George on my right as per the usual. Students were milling around, socializing, while Fred and George made funny faces at me from our seat at one of the tables. Dumbledore stood at the front of the room, before the teacher's table, beside the Goblet of Fire, which was still emitting blue flames. "Sit down, please," he said kindly. Every person in the room took at seat at either a table or one of the benches on either side of the Hall. The Headmaster took on his official, loud voice. "Now the moment you've all been waiting for: the champion selection."
Fred and George stopped with the strange faces and scowled. I turned to George and pinched his cheek between my thumb and index finger. "Why the long face, sunshine?" I asked him, smiling.
"We don't get to be chosen because we're not old enough," Fred grumbled from my other side. George nodded, still tolerating me pinching his face. "This sucks, Nell. We wanted to be in the Tournament."
I raised my eyebrows at him. "Why would you want to risk your lives over a silly little cup?"
They didn't answer me. Dumbledore waved his hand and all the fires that had been lit around the room died down, creating a hush over the Hall. Slowly, he approached the Goblet of Fire, laid his palms upon its sides, and then drew back a foot or two. Suddenly, the fire turned from blue to a pinkish red, and a singed bit of parchment flew into Dumbledore's waiting hand.
"The Durmstrang champion is Viktor Krum," he announced after reading off the parchment. The Durmstrang boys burst into applause and Krum stood up, walking toward the Headmaster. Dumbledore shook his hand, patted him on the back, and sent him off to the room behind the teacher's table.
Again, the fire turned pink. As soon as the next bit of burned parchment landed between his fingers, Dumbledore read out, "The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour."
I tensed up, watching her stride toward Dumbledore with her usual arrogant air. Fred and George each shot me a look. "You all right?" George asked me quietly. "Is she a friend of yours?"
I snorted out a laugh. "Far from it. It'll be interesting seeing her compete in physical activities. I'm not sure how much her dance skills are going to help her here."
The twins grinned and patted me on the shoulders, falling silent and turning back to watch Dumbledore receive the third and final slip of parchment from the Goblet. "The Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory!"
The entire hall erupted with the Hogwarts students' cheers. Cedric, the boy who'd smiled at me at the World Cup, whose name I'd watched as it was submitted to the flames, got to his feet and headed for Dumbledore, accepting high-fives and pats on the back along the way. To my surprise, neither of the twins looked upset about him beating them out. Fred shrugged when I asked him about it. "Cedric's a good guy. He'll do well."
"Excellent!" Dumbledore shouted, commanding silence with one excited word. "We now have our three champions. But in the end, only one will go down in history. Only one will hoist this chalice of champions, this vessel of victory - " Mr. Crouch carried out an object covered with a sheet of cloth, hiding what lurked beneath. " - the Triwizard Cup!"
The sheet flew off the cup as the old wizard pointed to it. There was a collective gasp amongst everyone in the room. The cup glowed bright blue, set with ornate silver carvings that were intricately designed. It was beautiful.
As everyone applauded, no one seemed to realize that the Goblet of Fire was going slightly haywire, spitting flames in every which direction. When the commotion finally died down, we all turned our attention back to the Goblet, which had turned bright pink again. Dumbledore approached it, holding up his hands as the flames flared up. A beam of fire shot directly upward, a single bit of parchment riding the stream only to gently glide down into the Headmaster's waiting hand. Everyone was silent.
"Harry Potter," he murmured quietly. I drew in a breath as Fred and George perked up in confusion on either side of me. "Harry Potter?" he repeated a little louder, searching the crowd for the fourth year with the glasses. The boy in question tried to shrink down out of sight.
"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore shouted, sounding furious. The sight of him looking so enraged terrified me; he came off as an easygoing old man. Jumping at the sound of his voice, I latched on to the nearest hand, which happened to my George's. He didn't acknowledge I'd done anything, but he squeezed my hand gently.
Hermione shook Harry's shoulder and pushed him to his feet. Harry looked terrified; his green eyes were wide and his hands were shaking. He walked as slow as he could toward Dumbledore, who was staring silently at him. The old man held out the singed paper, which Harry reluctantly took. Just as slowly, Harry headed in the direction the other three champions had gone in.
"He's a cheat!" someone shouted.
"He's not even seventeen yet!" someone else yelled.
Snape stared Harry down with a look of distaste, but I knew that was nothing unusual. McGonagall put a reassuring hand on his shoulder as he passed by her. And then he disappeared behind the other professors and I could no longer see him.
Later that evening, the Weasley twins and I were sitting in the common room in Gryffindor tower. The two were scheming over something on the sofa behind me while I sat on the floor in front of them, resting my back against their shins. "What're you boys talking about?" I asked, tilting my head back to look up at them. I'd grown tired of listening to everyone else in the room ponder over how Harry got his name selected, or even entered.
They froze mid-sentence and looked down at me. Then they grinned. "We'll show you eventually," Fred replied. I frowned at him, but he just ruffled my hair and resumed his conversation with George.
The door to the tower opened then. I craned my neck to see who had entered. It was Harry, and he seemed pretty shaken.
I pushed myself to my feet. Fred and George watched me from their seats on the couch. "Harry!" I called out to him. He jumped, startled, and gave me a wide-eyed look. I bit my lip and walked over to him, awkwardly rubbing one arm with my hand. "Er, look," I began. "I know you don't really know me or anything, but, for what it's worth, I don't think you put your name in the cup."
He gave me a relieved look, probably assuming I was going to assault him with questions about his selection. "Thanks, Nellie," he said. I gave him a smile and a small nod. "I'll see you later. Good night."
"Night, Harry," I replied with a wave. Then I headed back over to sit with the twins again. They both were giving me funny looks. "What?" I asked George, who immediately blushed.
"Nothing," he answered quickly. I would have pressed the matter further, but they had already dove back into their plotting.
The smell of potpourri and incense filled my nose and burned my eyes, making me cough as soon as I entered the room. Well, it was more of an attic area. To get inside we had to climb a ladder through a trapdoor in the ceiling. I made Fred and George go first today because every other time they whistled at me and vulgar remarks. I spent the entire class period tugging my skirt down.
"You're no fun, Nell," Fred complained, plopping down into his plush cushion on my left side. George followed suit on my right. "They're just jokes."
"They make me uncomfortable," I mumble, squirming in my seat. They both snigger.
Professor Trelawney walked into sight, her eyes large and bug-like behind her glasses. Her voice was wispy when she spoke. "Good morning, students. It pleases me to see you've all returned to me in perfect health." She glanced over at George. "Oh, Mr. Weasley, make sure you're drinking your pumpkin juice. I expect you'll be catching a mild cold soon."
George snorted behind his hand and is elbowed him. "Be nice," I hissed. The twins found the Divination professor batty and told me she wasn't fit to teach any of us. Those comments always made me scowl at them. Trelawney was an odd bat, that much was true, but she knew what she was talking about. Frankly, knowing there was another Seer in this school made me feel much better about my gift. But I would never talk to her about it.
She almost caught me on a few occasions. I read George's palm on the first day and predicted that he was going to spill his tea all over the table the following day. Well, the next day came and he got a lapful of steaming hot tea. Trelawney had looked closely at me and was about to comment on it, but Fred had saved me by shouting, "George, you did that on purpose!"
In any case, I tried to tone down my demonstration of my skills. I still was unsure of whether I wanted anyone to know I was a Seer or not. I was afraid of what the twins would say. They were so rude to Trelawney; who's to say they wouldn't start making cracks about me, too?
You're going to have to tell them eventually, Nellie, my mind told me. It'll be better for them to find out from you.
I knew that. I was just waiting for the appropriate time to tell them. Preferably a while later when our friendship was more solid and I was more confident around the two of them and everyone else. I still wasn't too sure of how well the two could keep a secret. Especially one this crucial. Sarah and Mark didn't even know about me. If I couldn't tell my two legal guardians, how could I be expected to trust a pair of boys I just met?
"Nellie?" Fred said, nudging me with his elbow. I jerked out of my thoughts and blinked a few times. The twins were staring at me, looking very confused.
"Sorry," I said quickly, trying to look like I was paying attention. "What, uh, w-what are we doing?"
George chuckled. "Tea leaves. Same as yesterday."
I noticed for the first time that both of them had already drank their tea, but my cup was still full. When had Trelawney come around to fill them? How long was I spacing off for, lost in my own thoughts and reflections? Quickly, I gulped down the lukewarm tea and swirled the dregs around a few times.
I cleared my throat. "Uh, so..."
Fred took my teacup, handed his own to George, and George slid his over to me. I smiled a little at them, a gesture that they returned. "I'll start!" Fred exclaimed, studying my cup closely and flipping through his textbook. He looked at George before speaking; they both smirked. Then he looked back to me. "Well, this looks like a baby. You wouldn't happen to be pregnant, would you, Nell?"
I reached over and snatched my cup back from him. "Yeah, I don't think you're cut out to be a Seer, sweetie," I said politely as he and George burst into laughter. The other students gave us curious looks but said nothing. Trelawney didn't even acknowledge us.
"Well, Freddie, I think this is a flower. A daisy, maybe?" George shook his head and shot me a secretive wink. "I don't know flowers. Anyway, dear brother, have you found yourself experiencing a new love?" Fred turned pink at tried to smack his twin. I grabbed his wrist at the last second.
"Okay, boys, let's play nice," I scolded. I looked down at George's teacup, inspecting the remains of his tea leaves. The blob in the center somewhat resembled an animal, a frog, maybe. I flipped through my book, searching for "frog". "So, it says 'a disguised handsome lover' for 'frog,'" I told George, fighting a smile.
He grinned and threw his arm over my shoulder. "Oh, that's definitely me. But I'm not in disguise. I'm always handsome."
I laughed. "Maybe if you'd cut your hair," I commented cheekily. He glared at me.
As soon as class was dismissed and we'd left through the trap door, Fred and George caught me by my arms. "Hey, Nell," Fred grinned. "You wanted to know what we were discussing the other night, right?" I nod. "Good. Well, we've talked it over, and we decided that we like you enough to let you into our little business. But first, you have to pass a test."
I stared at them both. "What kind of test?"
"Where are you taking me?" I asked, trying to pull out of the tight grip on my arms. Fred, on my left, readjusted the bag thrown over his shoulder; George, on my right, only grinned. "Come on, seriously, let go of me!"
"Do you want to be in on this or not?" Fred smirked at me. Then he glanced at George. "In here."
I was tugged into an empty classroom, where I was finally released. George went to close the door while Fred pulled three chairs and a bucket into the middle of the room. He pushed me into one chair as he and George sat across from me. The bucket rested in front of my knees.
George handed me a ribbon. "You might want to tie your hair up."
"What for?" I asked, eyeing the two of them suspiciously.
"So we can see your pretty face, of course," Fred laughed.
I knew that they were lying to me, but I did as they said and pulled my dark hair back, tying a knot in the strip of fabric to hold it in place. During that short amount of time, Fred was rooting through the bag he'd brought. George had crossed his arms and was watching me.
Fred pulled out a brightly wrapped piece of candy and a container full of water. He handed both to me. "Here you go. Eat this."
I set the water aside and took the candy from him, turning it over, inspecting it. I knew enough not to accept anything from them, but it looked harmless. So what was the big deal? "What's the bucket for?"
"For the wrapper. We don't approve of littering, silly," George answered.
I shrugged and unwrapped the piece of candy, tossing the wrapper into the bucket like George said. Half was orange, the other half was purple. Orange and grape, maybe? I gave the twins a curious glance.
"The orange half first," Fred informed me, nodding at it.
I tore the candy in half and popped the orange part in my mouth, chewing slowly. It didn't taste too bad, but -
I was thankful for the ribbon holding my hair back because suddenly I was bent over and emptying my stomach of everything I'd just eaten at dinner. So that's what the bucket's for, I think, hating myself for falling for their little joke.
There was a brief pause in the puking. Fred and George leapt out of their seats, laughing. One held my head up while the other shoved the purple half into my mouth. "Now, chew!" George commanded.
I did as I was told, and the bubbling in my stomach quickly stopped. I gasped and sat up, glaring at the both of them. "What was that?"
"Puking Pastilles!" they chimed in unison. "We invented them!"
I swatted both of their arms. "I hate you guys!"
"No, you don't," George countered with a grin. "Ready for round two?"
I took a swig from the container of water and spit it into the bucket, ridding my mouth of the foul taste of my own vomit. "What do I have to do? Are you going to make me throw up again?"
Fred pulled another sweet out of the bag and took the courtesy of removing the wrapper for me. It looked identical to the one I had just ate. At my alarmed look, he shook his head. "No, no, this one is different." He broke it in half. "Here, the orange part."
I couldn't help but think how stupid I was acting, going along with all of that. But they were nice guys, and funny. Hanging around with them was a good time. So I stuck the offered sweet into my mouth and chewed.
Almost immediately, blood poured out of my nose. I clapped a hand over it, trying to staunch the flow, but it didn't stop until George forced my jaws open and shoved the purple half in.
"You guys are horrible!" I exclaimed, wiping away the bloody mustache I'd gained from that experience.
"Well, you're not done yet." Fred grinned and handed me yet another piece of candy.
Several minutes later, I woke up in George's arms. "That was a Fainting Fancy," he told me.
"Am I done yet?" I asked blearily. I'd already sprouted yellow feathers and gained a fever in a matter of seconds. Fainting on the spot was where I finally drew the line, although I should've done it after the Pastille.
George set me on my feet. He and Fred grinned mischievously at me, and in unison, chimed, "Yeah, you're done. Welcome to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes!"
