Astraea didn't flinch as the camera flashed once again, capturing the photo of all five of the champions. Astraea stood between Harry and Cedric behind the chair where Fleur sat. Astraea watched as a woman dressed in a hideously green business skirt and blazer stepped out of the smoke from the camera flash.
"What a charismatic group," she smiled a sickeningly sweet smile.
No one said a word, Astraea assuming they were equally uncomfortable. It was one thing to forced into a competition that Astraea wanted no part in, but to now be supposedly famous, it was overwhelming for Astraea.
"Hello," the woman smiled as she approached to shake everyone's hands, "I'm Rita Skeeter! I write for the Daily Prophet, but of course you know that don't you? It's you we don't know."
Astraea carefully shook the Skeeter's hand, Skeeter making uncomfortable eye contact with her, "you're the juicy news."
"What quirks hide behind those rosy cheeks, what mysteries do those muscles mask, does courage lie beneath those curls?" Skeeter walked behind Cedric and Astraea, wrapping her arms around their shoulders, making Astraea tense, "in short, what makes a champion tick? My, myself and I would like to know, not to mention my rabid readers."
Astraea shrugged Skeeter's hand off her shoulder without a word, stepping closer to Harry as to not be so close to the woman. Not that Skeeter paid any mind to the gesture.
"So, who's feeling up to sharing?" Skeeter looked over the five faces staring back at her and when nobody answered, she put on her business face, "alright, I'll start with the youngest."
Without necessarily asking, Skeeter whisked poor Harry off into a small broom closet at the corner of the room. It was only then did the four of the champions let out a breath they didn't realize they were holding.
"She's...a character," Cedric chuckled, scratching the back of his head.
"I agree," Fleur smiled.
Astraea wordlessly walked over to a rather ornate armchair and sat down, crossing her legs lazily and leaned her chin on her palm. Victor frowned.
"For someone who's supposed to be my competitor, you seem very nonchalant about everything," he said.
Astraea cast him a side glance, "how else am I to react? Should I being jumping for joy that I'm in a competition I didn't wish to be in?"
"Don't pretend that you didn't put your name in that cup," Victor said.
"What I chose to do or not do is none of your business, Krum, and I suggest you remember that," Astraea said disinterestedly.
Victor didn't take her threat very lightly, slamming his staff on the stone floor, "don't you dare threaten me?"
"Oh, did I hurt the golden boy's feelings?" Astraea rolled her eyes, "for being in a competition, you sure let your competitors get the best of you."
"I will win this tournament for Durmstag!" Victor declared.
"Yes, louder, I don't think you're precious headmaster heard you," Astraea said, looking straight at Victor, getting only slight entertainment from the look on his face.
Scratch that, she was getting immense entertainment from the boy's expression. He looked close to stuffing that ridiculous hat down her throat, and Astraea was eating it all up.
"That's enough, there's no use in arguing," Fleur said.
"Yes, I agree," Astraea said, a smirk on her lips, "however, perhaps I am being too relaxed in the face of competition."
"I'm glad you agree-"
"I'll be sure to wipe any chance of Durmstag winning any trials," Astraea smirked, "in the spirit of competition."
If looks could kill, Astraea was sure Victor would have her mauled by a bear by now. But just in time, Skeeter walked back into the room, dragging a frazzled behind her.
"Alright, I'll take the next youngest!" She said, nailing her eyes on Astraea.
With a silent sigh, Astraea stood to her feet and walked into the broom closet, Skeeter closing the door behind them.
"You can sit there," Skeeter pointed to a small crate.
Astraea sat down, Skeeter sitting across from her, her levitating quill and paper ready to write.
"My, look at you," Skeeter smiled, "a picture of beauty, a walking Aphrodite."
Astraea didn't say a word as the woman rambled on.
"Now, Astraea, first names are fine between us girls, right? Tell me, what's it like to be a transfer student here at the glorious school of Hogwarts and to be entered into the Triwizard Tournament? You must of been scared out of your wits when you're heard your name called!"
"I wasn't," Astraea said.
"You don't have to be brave here dear, I understand-"
"I'm afraid you don't understand," Astraea cut her off.
Skeeter stopped looking at what her quill was writing and looked over to Astraea. The woman smirked and leaned forward in her chair.
"I understand that you transferred here to Hogwarts with no previous school record, not even so much of an address," Skeeter said, her voice low, "I understand that there are no records of any of your family, not to mention your parents. I understand that until the start of the year, there was no such thing as Astraea Glass."
Astraea felt her blood began to boil as she let out a shallow breath. Even so, Skeeter wouldn't relent.
"How about you explain your relationship with your partner, Harry? Or your mentor, Professor Snape-"
Astraea abruptly stood to her feet, "we're done here."
Storming past the woman, Astraea slammed the small door open. Astraea stalked through the room, heading toward the door.
"But I hardly asked any questions!" Skeeter exclaimed as she stepped into the room.
Astraea didn't say a word and simply slammed the door shut behind her.