Chapter Twenty One

October 30th

Lorcan sighed to himself, manoeuvring the dully coloured miniature mountain of food about his plate with his silver cutlery in distaste. His crystal silver orbs glanced onwards in disinterested, clouded over with defocus as his comrades chattered with conversation, buzzing about themselves. The sound of Silas' foul scowl echoed distantly through Lorcan's mind before he felt an elbow connect with his slender ribs, his eyes narrowing darkly at Tuesday's signal.

Mackenzie bounded towards the table, her dark chocolate curls bouncing about her gorgeous fair-skinned features as she perched herself beside Aiden, pressing her soft lips to his. Silas made a gagging noise as Lorcan resisted the urge to do the same, his heart growing numb in his chest, his heart beat fading away from him. The sound of her bubbling laughter caused his gut to wrench over itself furiously, his eyebrows knitting together in aggravation as he slammed his cutlery down against his untouched plate, the piercing sound echoing down the buzzing Slytherin table.

"Lorcan?" Mackenzie's gentle voice soothed over him, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, Scamander, what's wrong?" She was suddenly drowned out by irritation over Aiden's inquisition, his hands curling into tight fists.

"He's fine." Tuesday piped, brushing off the curious gazes of their comrades before tugging on Lorcan's sleeve gently, "Lorcan, calm down... Look at me."

He glanced down at her, meeting her shimmering amethyst eyes as she shook her head of uneven, short ebony tangles that framed her heart-shaped face. She brushed her slanted bangs out of her left eye, her ivory skin glistening in the candlelight as her features contorted with worry.

"As you said, I am fine." Lorcan replied curtly before his gaze shifted to Brayden whose dark, almond-shaped eyes were fixated on a bubbling redhead at the Gryffindor table.

None of the others would notice this for none of them were aware of the two meeting or even speaking since their date at Hogsmeade. Lorcan was tasked with the burden to cover for Brayden when he would sneak out, very frequently, to meet Rose Weasley, much to Lorcan's dismay. However, he had a loyalty to Brayden, as his friend, to want him to be happy and he now understood the need to see the person you love, despite any obstacles. Upon this thought, Lorcan's gaze darted to Mackenzie, his curious expression falling as his features contorted with despair.

"Good evening students," Headmaster Frampton called for attention, his tall figure framed with elegant velvet robes as his lips folded into a knowing smile, "As I am sure all of you are wondering what announcement I have for you today, I will tell you now. The Triwizard Tournament will be held at Hogwarts this year, a magical contest held between the three European wizarding schools, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Durmstrang Institute, and the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Those who partake in the tournament will compete in three dangerous tasks designed to test magical ability, intelligence, and courage, judged by the headmasters of the three competing schools. Eternal glory and honour awaits the student who wins, as well as the Triwizard Cup and a monetary prize of a thousand Galleons.

"One champion shall be chosen from each competing school by an impartial selector, the Goblet of Fire. Students wishing to participate must be of age, in other words, seventh years, to prevent any younger additions several magical defences shall be put into place. Those wishing to represent their respective schools must write their names and the school they attend on a piece of parchment and enter it into the goblet tonight. Once chosen, you stand alone, it is a test of your abilities solely, meaning no outside help from teachers or students is permitted. Tomorrow night the goblet shall elect each champion and the first task shall take place upon November 24th. Finally, a Yule Ball shall be held upon Christmas Eve night as a traditional part of the Tournament. It will consist of a feast and formal dance; any students below third year are not permitted to attend unless invited by a teacher or student of age."

Whispers erupted through the crowds of students over who would be elected their champion, convinced that it would be a student from their house.

"Now," Headmaster Frampton continued, "We will introduce our fellow schools. First the Durmstrang Institute."

A cluster of Northern European males stormed into the room, drenched in fur cloaks, fur hats, and blood-red robes that clung to their brawny builds. Their stalked towards the centre of the room, bowing to all in sight as their domineering presence silenced all whispers. The headmaster stepped forward, greeting the students in a dark, booming voice. Unruly raven curls fell about his strong features, a gargantuan beard framing his square jaw as his students moved to sit upon the end of the Slytherin table.

"And please welcome, the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic." Headmaster Frampton gestured towards the towering, iron lined doors as they swiftly swung open.

A collection of French males and females flooded into the hall, gliding with an elegant grace as their pastel blue silk uniforms fluttered about their figures extravagantly. Several Hogwarts students gawked in awe as the male students bowed gently, the females curtsying charmingly. Their headmistress sauntered into the centre of the room, her tall, slender body encased in elegant sapphire robes. Her silver tangles were pulled up into a flawless bun as a black sapphire pendant hung from her slender neck. She was easily recognisable as Phenestra Quackenbush, a former model in the Wizarding World and a notable writer.

"Thank you, Mister Frampton." She hummed in an impeccable French accent before she followed her students towards the Hufflepuff table, although several individuals moved to sit with the Gryffindors.

"Please welcome our guests with our greatest of hospitality." Headmaster Frampton chimed, "Now please, enjoy your feast."

Lorcan rolled his ashen orbs in response, pushing his glossy plate away from him before folding his arms over his chest.

"Not going to eat?" Serena inquired before pouring a spoonful of soup through her bright scarlet lips.

"I am not very hungry." He retorted, shrugging his shoulders weakly.

"I understand completely, Lorcan, those bloody Beauxbatons students nearly put me off my dinner too." She snarled, her dull grey eyes narrowing darkly, an expression meant for the foreign students rather than her comrades.

"Your jealousy is outstanding, Serena." Silas muttered, nibbling on the end of a piece of plain bread that sat in his skeletal fingers.

"Shut up, Silas." She snapped.

"Both of you can shut up before you start fighting." Brayden piped, holding his hand up towards Silas threateningly as the younger boy prepared to snap back at his twin, "Who do you guys think will be our champion?"

"A Slytherin, of course." Serena retorted, whipping her nose into the air proudly.

"I cannot help but agree." Aiden piped, drawing his attention away from Mackenzie for a mere second as she snuggled into his embrace affectionately.

"It makes me want to wretch to think that bloody Harry Potter won the Tournament years ago." Silas hissed maliciously, his piercing eyes darted towards Albus Potter who sat by himself at the far end of the Slytherin table before his gaze returned to his comrades, his trademark scowl pulling at his thin lips, "I swear I will murder him if he is our champion."

"Bah, as if Potter could ever be our champion, he is a disgrace to our house and school." His twin added as Tuesday rolled her twinkling eyes.

"For the love of the Dark Lord, his father was our champion and won despite being in his fourth year. Do not underestimate his abilities just because you are pathetic and insecure Flint." She spat.

"Why don't you-" Serena began.

"Stop it, Serena." Lorcan snapped threateningly as she reluctantly obeyed.

"I think I will put my name in." Scorpius piped, brushing his platinum tangles out of his proud elfin features as his silver eyes shimmered with confidence, "And I will be chosen... I am determined to win the Tournament."

"I would not mind him being our champion." Serena muttered before glaring as her brother moved as if to mock her.

"Why do you want to win?" Tuesday inquired with a sarcastic expression, "Because you really need the money?"

"No, of course not my dear, I am from a wealthy, pure-blooded family. However, eternal glory and honour sound pretty damn good. Plus I am sure I can find some use for that bloody cup."