"Why are they staring at each other?" Fred mocked whispered to his brother.
"I'm not sure, but I feel like they're about to get into a girl fight," George said excitedly. "I suggest we continue to observe the wild Winters triplets."
"I'll break your arms and send you back to the infirmary if you don't shut the hell up," I grumbled, crossing my arms and leaning against the wall.
My sisters were leaning against the opposite wall, a group of excited Slytherins surrounding them.
Jet impatiently checked the gold watch on her wrist.
"Time?" someone from the group of Slytherins called out.
"2:34," Jet and Jasmine corased.
"I'm really confused," said Lee, reappearing from a few meters down the corridor where him and Angelina had been talking about her entry.
"You're shaking, Jordan," Jasmine sniggered, the other Slytherins laughing with her. "Scared?"
"Bored," I drawled.
"Time?"
"2:39."
I fisted my hand into my pocket to turn my baseball between my fingers. In the other pocket, I kept a firm grasp on the small piece of parchment I'd had since the day before.
It was a waiting game. Every Slytherin there knew what they were waiting for, but freshly shaven Fred and George had just found me there, glaring at the identical versions of myself across the hall.
"2:42!" someone yelled.
"Go," said Jasmine quietly, staring down at her watch to confirm.
Jet grinned and pulled a piece of parchment out of her pocket, proudly walking up to the Goblet standing tall in the center of the Entrance Hall.
"What's she doing?" Fred asked, confused.
The Goblet accepted her entry, unlike Fred and George, and she smiled in relief. The twins were bouncing against each other, confused and angry that they'd gotten to enter and they hadn't.
By the time the Slytherin cheering had settled and Fred and George had come to the conclusion that I wasn't going to answer any of their questions, it must have been 2:44 because Jasmine took her turn and dropped her name into the Goblet, eliciting the same amount of applause from her house and her and Jet hugged each other.
"Mother and Father are going to be so excited to hear if one of you gets named Hogwarts Champion," said a shrill voice from the center of the group. Draco came front and center, glaring at me. "Not to mention all of the former Slytherin alumni."
"Watch it, Malfoy," said Fred. "Angelina's got just as much chance as they do."
"Shut up, Fred," said George as I stepped away from the wall.
"Time?" I asked, looking at some of the Gryffindors milling around the Entrance hall.
"2:46."
I stared at the parchment in my hand.
Jordan B. L. Winters.
Hogwarts.
Slowly I raised my hand, trying to force it to stop shaking, and released my name into the Goblet of Fire.
I did nothing but glance at my sisters as I walked towards the marble staircase. My body was shaking with nerves and every eye was on me as I left.
"I don't even know who she is," said a third year Gryffindor. "Better her than someone from Slytheirn, I suppose."
I was really scared that they were wrong about that.
Footsteps echoed up the staircase after me. The twins and Lee were yelling things that I couldn't quite hear through a sudden rush in my ears.
"Winters!" one of them yelled after me. "You're crazy! Absolutely nuts!"
I stopped at the next staircase and put my head in my hands.
"Awe, Winters! I meant it in a good way. Don't be upset!"
"Yeah! That was super cool!"
I looked at them my face contorted in laughter.
"Remus is going to be so mad at me!"
The feast seemed to draw on for much longer than necessary. Everyone was on edge, nervous and excited to find out who they'd be cheering on for the rest of the school year, or if they were the person the rest of their school would be cheering on.
Karkaroff had obviously heard that my name had been entered. The second he entered the Great Hall, he kept his gaze on me, glaring at me with as much force as possible.
I wasn't bothered, though. Fred and Lee were across from me, George on my right to accommodate me being left-handed.
The twins had started questioning me about my relationship with my sisters. Making fun of me for being the youngest of the three and finding it cool that I opted out of living a lavish life in Malfoy Manor intern for being happy.
When the food cleared and excited filled the entire hall, George took the moment his brother wasn't looking to wrap an arm around me and whisper "Harry birthday, Winters" to me.
Angelina winked at me, but other than her no one saw the redness creep up my face.
"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore when the hall grew silent. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" — he indicated the door behind the staff table — "where they will be receiving their first instructions."
He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes.
"Any second," Lee Jordan whispered, grinning between Angelina and I. "It's gonna be one of you."
"I hope not…" I grumbled.
The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it — the whole room gasped.
Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.
"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."
A storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Viktor rose from the Slytherin table and walked towards the staff table. He caught my eye long enough to send me a meek smile before he disappeared through the door into the next chamber.
"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him.
As the clapping died down, everyone's attention focused again on the goblet which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.
"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"
"She's not even fully human!" I groaned as a girl who so obviously resembled her veela mother got gracefully to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair, and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.
"Oh look, they're all disappointed," Granger said over the noise, nodding toward the remainder of the Beauxbatons party.
Two of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears and were sobbing with their heads on their arms.
"Oh no, Lee, go comfort them," I said, laughing at their sadness.
"Why are you laughing," George asked.
"Because I'm nervous," I said quietly.
His hand found mine under the table and our fingers intertwined.
"You're shaking," he chuckled.
"Shut up, Weasley."
I tried to pull away from him in mock annoyance but he pulled me closer to him instead, rubbing my skin with the pad of his thumb.
Silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion next . . .
And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.
"The Hogwarts champion," he called.
I buried my face in George's shoulder.
"I'm going to throw up."
"Is Jordan Winters!"
There wasn't much applause, which didn't surprise me because no one knew who I was. In some ways I was glad, because I didn't want to be special. I didn't even want to be Champion.
I entered to piss off my sisters, not for any opportunity of actually being chosen.
George squeezed my hand and started shaking me.
"Winters!" he yelled. "It's you!"
I swallowed hard and stood from my seat. It was at that moment that the rest of Gryffindor realized that the Champion was one of their own.
Every single Gryffindor jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as I stumbled past them to make my way past the teachers' table. Dumbledore winked at me, McGonagall seemed overwhelmed with joy, Moody was staring at me with both eyes, and Karkaroff broke a wine glass from squeezing it too hard.
I found myself in a smaller room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. The faces in the portraits turned to look at me as I entered, congratulating me for being chosen.
Viktor and Fleur Delacour were standing around the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. Viktor, hunched-up and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the Fleur. Fleur looking just a beautiful as normal, her veela smile looking past me, waiting for her Headmistress to enter the room.
I was no match for them.
Viktor looked at me, shocked and a big, yellowed toothy grin spread across his face. He rushed towards me, moving faster than I'd seen him move since he'd arrived at Hogwarts and he swept me off my feet, hugging me tighter than any normal person should be able to withstand.
Then the door of the small room opened and we all turned to see Harry wandering in looking nervous and shocked.
"What is it?" Fleur asked. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"
She thought he had come to deliver a message. Harry looked like he didn't know exactly why he was there or he didn't know how to explain what had just happened. He just stood there, looking at the three champions.
I broke away from Viktor and put a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"What's going on?"
There was a sound of scurrying feet behind him, and Ludo Bagman entered the room. He took Harry by the arm and led him forward.
"Extraordinary!" he muttered, squeezing Harry's arm. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen . . . ladies," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other three. "May I introduce — incredible though it may seem — the fourth Triwizard champion?"
Fleur tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."
"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"
"There's no way!" I said, pulling Harry away from Bagman. A sudden maternal instinct forced its way out of me. "He's too young, there's no way he could have put his name in! Fred and George Weasley aren't old enough by a couple months and they couldn't put their names in. Harry's not old enough by almost three years!"
"Well . . . it is amazing," said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down at Harry. "But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his names come out of the goblet . . . I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage. . . . It's down in the rules, you're obliged . . . Harry will just have to do the best he —"
The door behind Bagman opened again before I could grab at the collar of his coat, and a large group of people came in: Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mr. Crouch, Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape.
"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"
"Butt out you veela-"
Viktor's hand covered my mouth before I could continue.
"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" Maxime asked impatiently, apparently not hearing, or not caring about what I'd said of her star pupil.
"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions — or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"
His eyes fixed onto me and he seemed to be thinking of whether it was wise to continue on.
"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," said Snape softly. His black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here —"
"I've been with him since this morning!" I lied. "Unless he put it in last night after I watched him and his friends go to bed, then I really don't think that a fourteen year old could have put his name in. No offense Harry."
"Thank you, Miss. Winters," said Dumbledore firmly.
I managed to tune out the rest of the conversation. The accusations drove me mad and the look on Harry's face was enough for me to know for sure that he had nothing to do with the fact that his name came out of the Goblet.
Moody's eyes shifted between Harry and I as the conversation drew on. A gnarled smile would sometimes unintentionally shift onto his face, but quickly disappears as soon as he noticed me looking.
I glared at the row of professors and ministry officials until my name got brought up and I found myself listening all of a sudden.
"Both Jordan and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do. . . ."
"Ah, but Dumbly-dorr —"
"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it." Dumbledore waited, but Madame Maxime did not speak, she merely glared.
"Well, shall we crack on, then?" he said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honors?"
Mr. Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie similar to the one I'd been in moments before.
"Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes . . . the first task . . ." He moved forward into the firelight.
"The first task is designed to test your daring," he told us. "So we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard . . . very important. . . ."
At the mention of the word courage, McGonagall seemed very excited. Though the circumstances weren't ideal, she had two students from her house competing in the tournament and anyone could agree that was something to be proud of.
"The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges. The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."
Mr. Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore.
"I think that's all, is it, Albus?"
"I think so," said Dumbledore.
"Harry, Jordan, I suggest you go up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling at both of them. "I am sure Gryffindor is waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."
Harry glanced at me and I grabbed him by the arm, dragging him out of the room as fast as possible.
"I hope you know," I told him. "Even if no one else believes you, I do. I know you didn't put your name in the cup."
"What makes you say that?" he asked.
"Because you and I have a knack for finding trouble and not wanting anything to do with it."
Three people in the Legilimans registry were born October 31st.
George Weasley