It was later that week that the buttons appeared. They rotated between saying Potter Stinks and Who's Winters? in an attempt at mildly insulting Harry and I at the same time.
It was bad enough when my own sisters started wearing pins insulting their own last names, but when some of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws started wearing them because Harry and I had taken something away from their house because we'd been chosen instead of someone from one of their houses, that's when it started piss me off.
Classes had grown lonely without the twins teasing me like normal. Instead they sat together a few rows ahead of me in ever class just to cut out the risk of me blowing up if they got too close.
On top of that, in every class, people from other houses would boast about their pins without me being able to say a word. It was isolating.
"Thanks guys," I muttered to a group of second year Gryffindors who were showing off their Winters for the Win badges.
I watched them walk away and then turned my attention back to the open classroom door just a few steps in front of me.
Moody was thumping around inside, preparing his lesson for us while most of my class was already inside and watching him.
Running footsteps started echoing behind me. The sound of someone running away from something they'd done wrong.
To opt of out George running into me like he had so many times before, I quickly slipped into Moody's class and into the furthest seat back before the twins and Lee and fell into seats in front of me, panting heavily and their faces red from running.
"What'd you do?" asked Angelina, turning to face from her spot in front of them.
"Don't worry about it."
It wasn't long after that two Hufflepuff boys entered the room, looking disgruntled. They each had massive holes in their robes in the same place lots of their classmates had their Potter Stinks badges.
"What happened to you?" Moody grunted.
"I don't know!" one of them said. "We were coming out of the bathroom and all of sudden there was smoke everyone and then our badges exploded!"
"Almost like someone's trying to call out your bad teamenship?" Moody said, a small smile on his face.
All of the Hufflepuffs looked around at each other, worried for the scolding that was inevitably coming.
"Incase you haven't noticed, this is a tournament of school versus school, not house versus house. No matter which house the champion, or in our case, champions come from, it's your job to support them, am I wrong?"
The two Hufflepuffs flushed in embarrassment and Moody and I both seemed to notice that Fred and George were high fiving under their desks.
"So, a point from each Hufflepuff wearing a Potter Stinks badge," he said, causing an audible groan from all of the Hufflepuffs. "And detention to the Weasley twins and our champion from playing dirty, no matter how good the intent was."
Both of the twins went ridgid.
"Me?" I gasped. "It's not my fault that they're absolutely idiots! I had nothing to do with it!"
"Can you prove that?" Moody asked me, weirdly calm.
"I wasn't there, therefore I've got nothing to convict me?" I said, dumbfounded.
Moody just grunted and turned away from me.
"You're actually about to punish me for something that happened while I was sitting in your classroom?"
"Keep arguing with me, Winters," he said, suddenly angry. "And we'll just have to make it a week of detention. Now, today's lesson we'll be talking more about the UnForgivable Curses-"
The door of the classroom opened and McGonagall stepped in.
Moody's eye swung around to see who it was but he continued talking, not giving a chance for the intruder to interrupt.
"Ludo has asked for Winters, Moody. Do you mind?" McGonagall asked loudly.
"Thank Merlin," I muttered, grabbing my bag.
"She'll have to make up my lesson on her own if she leaves," he growled.
"I'll stay," I groaned, dropping back into my seat.
"As all four of the champions are getting pulled from their current classes, we've requested that they be exempt from this lesson," said McGonagall coldly. "Winters, come with me please."
"You got it," I said, moving to go with her.
"Descendo!" Moody said, and I was forced back into my seat, unable to get up.
McGonagall gasped, moving to block his spell, but I did it first, standing up and looking between them.
"I am not something to fight over!" I yelled, marching past them both and into the corridor.
"You don't even know where you're going!" said McGonagall, following me.
"Three doors past the Transfiguration classroom!" I said, waving her off.
It was actually one of the Creevy boys that fed me that information. He was running down the corridor saying it over and over again in his head, obviously on his way to go get Harry.
"Collin!" I said, taking a few large strides to catch up with him.
He turned, shocked.
"M-me?" he stuttered. "You're Jordan Winters! You know my name?"
I didn't want to tell him that the only reason I knew that was because he was holding a camera with his name embroidered on the strap, so I let him believe what he wanted.
"Do you know why all the champions are getting called up by Bagman?"
"Pic-pictures, for the Prophet, I think," he stuttered. "Can I take your picture?"
"No," I said firmly, pushing his camera from my face. "Is that all you know?"
He nodded nervously.
"Interviews maybe. I saw Mr. Ollivander in the room as well."
"Ollivander?" I repeated. "Thanks, Creevy."
"No problem Jordan Winters."
"Winters," I corrected. "Call me Winters."
Collin smiled widely before running away to go get Harry.
Three doors down from the Transfiguration classroom was a small classroom; most of the desks had been pushed away to the back of the room, leaving a large space in the middle; three of them, however, had been placed end-to-end in front of the blackboard and covered with a long length of velvet.
Viktor was standing moodily in a corner as usual and not talking to anybody. Fleur looked a good deal happier than anyone had seen her so far; she kept throwing back her head so that her long silvery hair caught the light. Disturbingly enough, a paunchy man, holding a large black camera that was smoking slightly, was watching Fleur out of the corner of his eye.
Ludo Bagman was sitting in one of the chairs behind the velvet covered desk, talking to none other than Rita Skeeter.
Skeeter sent me a sly grin and I knew that my fate was about to be broadcasted across the Daily Prophet by a woman who not only hated me, but my godfather as well.
Harry entered a little while later and Skeeter pulled him into a sad looking broom closet from an interview. Viktor and I stood next to each other as all of the judges poured into the room. Fleur attempted a conversation with me but I had to bite my tongue as to not insult her.
When Dumbledore pulled Harry out of the broom closet, he looked a lot angerier and red in the face than he had just minutes before. Skeeter, on the other hand, looked utterly delighted.
We all sat in chairs near the door, staring ahead at Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Mr. Crouch, and Ludo Bagman.
"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?" said Dumbledore, taking his place at the judges' table and talking to the champions. "He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."
"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" said Mr. Ollivander, stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room.
Fleur swept over to Mr. Ollivander and handed him her wand.
"Hmmm . . ." he said.
He twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. Then he held it close to his eyes and examined it carefully.
"Yes," he said quietly, "nine and a half inches . . . inflexible . . . rosewood . . . and containing . . . dear me . . ."
"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela," said Fleur. "One of my grandmuzzer's."
I could hear the gears in Harry's head turning at this one.
"Yes," said Mr. Ollivander, "yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands . . . however, to each his own, and if this suits you . . ."
Mr. Ollivander ran his fingers along the wand, apparently checking for scratches or bumps; then he muttered, "Orchideous!" and a bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip.
"Very well, very well, it's in fine working order," said Mr. Ollivander, scooping up the flowers and handing them to Fleur with her wand. "Miss. Winters, you next."
I stood, handing him my wand anxiously.
"Ah yes, yes, yes. I could never forget a wand so personal. Made it for at your request if I'm not mistaken. Ten and a half inches, ebony, springy and containing hair from your godfather, Remus Lupin, in his lunar state."
"Quite an incredible wand, if I do say so myself. Then again, I made it. Aguamenta!"
Water shot out of the tip of my wand and splashed onto the judges table.
"Incredible," he said, smiling.
"Mr. Krum, if you please."
I tuned out a lot of the rest of the weighing of the wands. I didn't want to be there anymore than anyone else. Skeeter kept staring at me for, an evil grin on her face, and in the time it took for my wand to be examined, she'd filled two entire pages with nonsense about me that I was sure would be in the paper later that week.
After a long series of pictures where I was instructed to smile and then look serious and then stand next to Harry and then alone and then next to Dumbledore and then next to the rest of the champions, I was tired of all the people in that room.
Karkaroff had whispered threats into my ear on more than one occasion and Madam Maxime had told Dumbedore and the girl's uniforms are ugly and then offered to make me something a little more appealing for the tournament. Bagman asked about my Squib friend from the World Cup and if he'd been okay since being hurled around in their air like a doll.
When the photos were finally done, dinner had already started. I stood in the entrance of the Great Hall for a few moments, trying to find a place to sit and be alone.
Lucky for me. The Gryffindor table was packed as normal. The only gaps were people actively avoid sitting near the Creevy brothers while they attempted to jinx something in front of them, two seventh years that were sucking face, and the twins at the end of the table, obviously plotting something. Not even Angelina was sitting with them.
I paused for a moment, contemplating my words before coughing a little to get their attention.
"Not now," said Fred, not even looking up at me.
"Oh…" I said sadly. "Sorry."
Both of them looked up at me with shock across their faces.
"Winters!" George said, panicked.
"I thought you were Alicia or Angelina," said Fred, standing up to keep me from walking away again.
"I just wanted to say thank you… for the blowing up the Hufflepuff badges," I told them. "I don't want to bother you, though. You seem busy."
"You're not bothering us!" said George. "We're not busy either. Just… actively trying to make it seem like we are."
"Why?" I asked warily.
The twins both glanced down the table to Angalina, Alicia, and Katie Bell. The three girls were whispering and looking towards the twins with malice.
"What's up with them."
"They're pissed off," said George.
"Obviously. Why, though?"
"Apparently girls don't like it when you tell them you'd rather watch paint dry than be around them if they're going to say horrid things about people you care about," said Fred.
"And for two of the most rambunctious people I've ever met, that really says a lot," I said, smiling a little. "You're both dumb."
"Are we dumb enough for you to sit and have dinner with us?" asked George, scooting over so I'd have room next to him.
I smiled and sat next to him.
"It's been awfully boring without you around, Winters," said Fred.
"Yeah it's like all we can do is think about Bagman or our prank products."
"Isn't that what you always used to do?" I asked.
"Yeah, but you've made us a lot more level headed since then."
"So where'd you end up going for all of DADA?" asked George.
"The Weighing of the Wands Ceremony," I said in my fanciest voice. "Ollivander was there. He just checked to make sure everyone's wands were working and then they took some pictures of us for the paper. I feel like Harry made the front page."
"Why do you say that?"
"Remember the Rita Skeeter lady that was publishing all of the awful things in the Prophet about the Ministry whenever everything happened at the World Cup?"
Both of the twins nodded grimmly, apparently know all too well.
"Guess who's reporting on the tournament."
"You're kidding!" said Fred agerily. "She's going to make all of you look awful."
"You're telling me," I said, resting my face in my hands.
George rubbed my back soothingly.
"Don't worry about her. She can't make that big of an impact on you."
Turns out Rita Skeeter can in fact make an impact on you.
-George Weasley