The castle was mercifully quiet as Aerrow made his way back to his room. Alone with his thoughts it was a terrible feeling, not because of the tournament, that he would handle when it came to it, but more due to why and more worryingly who had put his name in the Goblet. If this tournament wasn't for Sky Knights he would have thought it was a practical joke gone wrong, that somebody had just wanted to make a fool of him or to see if he could cope with the challenges. But the truth was that the tournament was for Sky Knights, serious and trustful people who would dare stoop to such a immature level, Viktor's, Cedric's and Fleur's angry expressions at the idea of his entry had been proof enough of that. So, someone wanted the tournament to go wrong for him, someone wanted to use the danger of the challenges to cause him damage, or worse, that much Aerrow knew for certain. The question was, however, who was it?. When thinking of who would want him dead one person immediately came to mind. But how could Cyclonis have prepared this plan from beyond the grave, dead for over two years now, it was an impossible and scary thought.
Aerrow got a shock when he found himself outside his room on the seventh floor. He had been so preoccupied with his thoughts that he hadn't been focused on where his feet had been carrying him. Taking a deep breath he slowly placed a hand on the handle, turned it and stepped inside the room. Inside the common room he saw Piper sat on one of the armchairs whilst Starling Junko and Stork were sat at the dinning table, all of them waiting for him and looking worried, Ace and Finn were nowhere to be seen.
"Aerrow, what happened?" Piper asked, standing up, sounding rather nervous. Aerrow paused for a moment before answering.
"Someone's tampered with the Goblet and, I have to compete" He told them all, seeing no point hiding the truth from them.
"What?" Starling asked in surprise, standing up from the table and walking over to him. "They can't possibly tell you to..." She began to say.
"They can, if your name comes out of the Goblet your bound to compete" Aerrow cut in, repeating what he'd been told by Crouch.
"But whoever has entered you, it's playing right into..." Starling continued to protest, quickly seeing the danger, as Aerrow had done, in his entry.
"I know," Aerrow cut in again. "Where's Ace and Finn?" He asked, trying to sound casual, wanting to take the focus of the tournament.
"Finn said he was tired and went to bed and Ace is out on the balcony, he wants to talk to you" Piper answered, sounding serious. Aerrow looked for a moment to the large pained glass door, where he could just make out his uncle's silhouette on the other side, before he made his way over to it. Stepping out onto the balcony, the cool night air giving a welcome change after the somewhat stuffy castle, Aerrow saw Ace standing with his back to him, staring out across the view of the lake and surrounding grounds, only visible in the moonlight. Although Aerrow was the Sky Knight and leader of the squadron it was Ace that the Storm Hawks relied upon for experience and advice, and right now Aerrow needed it.
"Ace" Aerrow said, worried about how strained and nervous his voice sounded. Turning to face him, Aerrow could immediately tell he was unhappy.
"I just have to ask.." He began to say.
"I didn't enter, someone tricked the Goblet" Aerrow replied, knowing Ace was about to ask. Ace nodded, leaning against the wall behind him.
"What now?" He asked. Aerrow shrugged.
"I have to compete, whatever the first task is, it's in two weeks" He replied.
"I don't like this one bit," Ace muttered. "Death Eaters as the World Cup, Cyclonis's mark been seen and now..." He trailed off in worry. Aerrow could only sigh as he walked up and stood next to him, looking at the view.
"Yeah, seems I can't do anything without a bit of trouble" He said half jokingly. "But whatever is going on, whoever it is, we'll just have to figure it out as the tournament goes on" He said with confidence. But Ace's face didn't lighten.
"Even if we find out what is going on, these tasks are dangerous enough on their own" He told him.
"I'll be fine, nothing..." Aerrow began to reassure.
"I've seen previous tournaments, years ago, whoever put your name in the Goblet is no friend, people die in this thing" Ace said sternly.
"Well, I'll just have to be careful then" Aerrow replied coolly.
Walking back inside Aerrow suddenly found himself exhausted and was in no mood to talk to any of the others waiting in the common room so chose to head up to bed without another word. Inside the dorm he found Finn lying on his bed, still fully dressed. He looked up as Aerrow shut the door behind him.
"Oh hello," Finn said. He was grinning, but it was a very odd, strained sort of grin. "So," He began. "Congratulations" He said.
"What do you mean, congratulations?" Aerrow asked, staring at Finn. There was definitely something wrong with the way Finn was smiling: It was more like a grimace.
"Well, you did get chosen, not to mention entering as a fourth champion" Finn replied. "How did you do it?" He asked.
"Listen," Aerrow said. "I didn't put my name in the Goblet, someone else has done it" He told him. Finn raised his eyebrows.
"What would they do that for?" He asked casually.
"I dunno," Aerrow replied, feeling as it would sound melodramatic to say, 'kill me'.
Finn's eyebrows rose so high that they were in danger of disappearing into his blond hair.
"It's okay, you know, you can tell me the truth," He said. "If you don't want everyone else to know, fine, but I don't know why you're bothering to lie, you didn't get into trouble for it, did you?" He asked.
"I didn't put my name in that Goblet!" Aerrow said, starting to feel angry.
"Yeah, okay," Finn said sceptically. "Only you said the only reason you weren't entering was because it was of how you busy you'd been" He said. "Guess you just got bored right?" He asked but carried on before Aerrow could intervene. "I'm not stupid you know" He added with a shrug, convinced he'd come to the right conclusion.
"Well you're doing a really good impression of it," Aerrow snapped
"Yeah?" Finn said, and there was no trace of a grin, forced or otherwise, on his face now. "You'll want to get to bed Aerrow, I expect you'll need to be up early tomorrow for a photo-call or something" He snapped back as he wrenched the hangings shut around his four-poster bed, leaving Aerrow standing there by the door, staring at the dark red velvet curtains, now hiding one of the few people he had been sure would support him.
The flash of the camera was almost blinding as the reporter took yet another photograph of the four champions. Besides him was tall, skinny woman who had hair that was set in elaborate and curiously rigid curls that contrasted oddly with her heavy-jawed face. She wore jewelled spectacles and was dressed in a vile green skirt and jacket, trimmed with black fur. Her thick fingers clutching her handbag ended in two-inch nails, painted crimson.
"What a charismatic quartet" She said as she examined the four Sky Knights in front of her.
They were all dressed in their best squadron uniforms with Fleur sitting on a chair at the front of them in her silk uniform, Viktor stood to the side in his much more rugged uniform, now topped with heavy and fur trimmed winter coat as Terra Durmstrang was a very cold place, Cedric directly behind the chair in a grey two piece flight suit, and Aerrow to the other side in his jacket, t-shirt, jeans and boots. Walking forward the woman introduced herself as she shook their each of their hands.
"I'm Skeeter, I write for the Daily Prophet, but of course you all already know that" She said expectantly. "It's you we don't know, your the juicy news, what quirks lurk beneath those rosy cheeks, which mysteries do those muscles mask, does courage lie beneath those curls?" She said as she walked up to and started circling them with obvious interest. "What hides within the high flying drama of being a Sky Knight?" She continued. " In short what makes a champion tick?" She added as she stopped between Aerrow and Cedric. "Me, myself and I want to know, not to mention my avid readers, so whose feeling up to sharing?" She asked with a small laugh. When no one responded she immediately looked at Aerrow. "Shall we start with the youngest?, lovely" She said and in a second, her scarlet-taloned fingers had Aerrow's upper arm in a surprisingly strong grip, and she was steering him out of the room and opening a nearby door. "We don't want to be in there with all that noise," She said. "Let's see, ah, yes, this is nice and cosy" She added, guiding him in. Aerrow now found himself in a cramped area under a set of stairs, barely enough room to stand.
"It's a broom cupboard?" He told her.
"Then you should feel right at home then" Skeeter replied, glancing at his ever messy red hair, which had been growing quite long, now reaching midway down his neck at the back. Skeeter perched herself precariously upon an upturned bucket as she pushed Aerrow down onto a cardboard box, and closed the door, throwing them into darkness. "Let's see now..." She muttered. Unsnapping her handbag and pulled out a handful of candles, which she lit with a wave of her wand and magicked into mid-air, so that they could see what they were doing.
"You won't mind, Aerrow, if I use a Quick-Quotes Quill?" She asked. "It leaves me free to talk to you normally..." She quickly explained.
"A what?" Aerrow asked. Skeeter's smile widened. She reached again into her bag and drew out a long acid-green feather quill and a notepad, which she stretched out between them on a crate. She put the tip of the green quill into her mouth, sucked it for a moment with apparent relish, then placed it upright on the parchment, where it stood balanced on its point, quivering slightly.
"Testing, my name is Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter" She said. Aerrow looked down quickly at the quill. The moment Skeeter had spoken, the green quill had started to scribble, skidding across the paper until the words written upon it read:
Attractive blonde Skeeter, forty-three, who's savage quill has punctured many inflated reputations.
"Lovely," Skeeter said, yet again as she ripped the top piece of paper off, crumpled it up, and stuffed it into her handbag. Now she was leaning towards Aerrow. "So tell me Aerrow, here you sit a mere boy of fourteen," She began, the quill writing on its own again.
"I'm sixteen" Aerrow corrected. Skeeter carried on.
"About to compete in one of Atmos's most dangerous events, against three other Sky Knights not only vastly more emotionally mature than yourself but have who have had many more years of service and flown in missions you wouldn't attempt in your dizziest daydreams, concerned?" She asked, the quill eagerly waiting for his reply.
"I, don't know, I..." Aerrow tried to say, but he was being distracted by the quill: even though he wasn't speaking much, it was dashing across the paper.
"Ignore the quill, Aerrow," Skeeter said firmly. Reluctantly Aerrow looked up at her instead. "Now, why did you decide to enter the tournament, Aerrow?" She asked him.
"I didn't," Aerrow replied. "I don't know how my name got into the Goblet of Fire. I didn't put it in there" He replied. Skeeter raised an eyebrow.
"Come now, Aerrow, there's no need to be scared of getting into trouble, we all know you shouldn't really have been chosen as well, but don't worry about that, our readers love a rebel" She said with a wink.
"But I didn't enter," Aerrow repeated. "I don't know who..." He tried to say.
"How do you feel about the tasks ahead?" Skeeter said. "Excited? Nervous?" She asked.
"I haven't really thought about it, yeah, nervous, I suppose," Aerrow said, his insides squirmed uncomfortably as he spoke.
"Champions have died in the past, haven't they?" Skeeter said briskly. "Have you thought about that at all?" She asked.
"Well, they say it's going to be a lot safer this year," Aerrow said. The quill whizzed across the paper between them, back and forward as though it were skating.
"Of course, your no ordinary boy of fourteen are you?" Skeeter asked.
"Sixteen" Aerrow corrected again.
"You've looked death in the face before, haven't you?" Skeeter continued, watching him closely. "The story's legend, Master Cyclonis's defeat, the collapse of her entire Terra," She almost whispered. "How would you say it's affected you?" She asked.
"Er," Aerrow said.
"Do you think that the excitement in your past might have made you keen to prove yourself? To live up to your name? Do you think that perhaps you were tempted to enter the Tri-Sky Knight Tournament because..." She began to ask rapidly.
"I didn't enter," Aerrow cut in, starting to feel irritated.
"Of course, heroics and impressive acts run in your blood don't they?" Skeeter asked. "Your father was a Sky Knight who sacrificed his life in battle against dark forces and, from what I've heard around this castle, your mother, also unfortunately deceased, was a fairly competent sorcerer," She stated, seemingly trying a different angle. "How do you think they'd feel if they knew you were competing in the Tri-Sky Knight Tournament? Proud? Worried? Angry?" She asked. It was a good thing the cupboard was still slightly dark, despite the candles, otherwise even someone like Skeeter wouldn't have been able to miss how tense Aerrow's jaw had become. How in the Atmos was he to know how his parents would feel if they were alive? He could feel Rita Skeeter watching him very intently. Frowning, he avoided her gaze and looked down at words the quill had just written, which read:
Tears fill those startlingly green eyes as our conversation turns to the parents who were so tragically lost in the cruel storm of the dark Master Cyclonis's power struggle.
The door of the room slammed shut with enough force to rattle it. His interview with Skeeter had put Aerrow in a very bad mood and he was glad that the common room was empty when he got back from it. Standing in between the dinning table and the sofas for a moment, he tried to calm his breathing as he ran a hand through his hair.
"Interview went well then?" Starling's voice suddenly sounded. Turning, Aerrow, having completely missed her in his frustration, saw that she was sat in one of the armchairs, looking at him sympathetically. He could only sigh frustratingly in response, causing Starling to nod understandingly as she stood up and came over to him. "Come on, I know what you need" She said, indicating the door leading back out of the room.
The two skimmers raced, flipped and spun freely across the clear open skies over Hogwarts. Starling suggestion of a flight had been nothing short of perfect and much welcomed to Aerrow, who was now easily forgetting his frustrations about Skeeter, the tournament and just about every other worry he currently had. "Feel any better?" Starling shouted above the noise of the engines and slight wind that had picked up. His smile and relaxed face was answer enough as they both pulled up and hovered for a moment, taking in the view.
"Thanks for this" He told her. She smiled back.
"Ah," She dismissed with a shrug and a wave of her hand. "I needed it too," She said. "Come on, last one back to the Condor washes these" She added playfully, indicating the two skimmers, before speeding off across the sky, Aerrow close behind her.